To Take Away His Voice

Becoming His Bitch

Brynnan had spent a sleepless night. The locked tower room felt bleak and cold. Hunger gnawed at his belly: he was without food for the last three days. He awaited a promised visit from the Warlord, and that visit promised not to be pleasant.

“Tomorrow, I will fuck you,” Lord Samir had said. It was now tomorrow.

Brynnan was thirsty, but there was water. He awkwardly picked up the bowl with his near-useless hands and drank, thinking about the Warlord’s other threat; that the water eventually would be poisoned with a memory-destroying drug.

There was nothing to do but wait. Brynnan’s harp stood in the corner of the chamber with him, the irony being that his injured wrists made him unable to play. He stared at the harp, and in his mind, he could hear the music. The memories haunted him.

Eventually, he heard voices and footsteps in the corridor outside. The heavy door opened, and the Bard’s stomach clenched in reaction to the sound. The time for his latest torture was here and now. Guards came through the doorway, weapons at the ready. Then the two torturers entered; tall, burly men with shaved heads. And finally, the Warlord Samir walked in and stood before his prisoner.

The Warlord evidently had just returned from the practice arena. Brynnan knew that Lord Samir kept his muscular body hard with daily tactical workouts: in former times, Brynnan had sometimes worked out with him. The Warlord wore leathers: tight breeches and heavily-spiked wristbands that could turn his wrists into deadly weapons. A studded leather harness across his chest held sheaths with six throwing knives. Brynnan could smell his sweat.

“Efan, cuff him,” Samir addressed the red-haired torturer.

Both torturers moved forward. Roughly seizing the Bard, they stripped the clothing from him until he stood naked and shivering. They pulled his arms behind his back. Brynnan winced in pain as Efan attached heavy iron manacles on his bandaged wrists, then they forced him to his knees.

Samir grasped Brynnan’s hair in a fierce grip that effectively controlled his movements. “Kai, collar him,” he commanded the second torturer.

Kai took the key from Samir and opened a chest he had placed on the table, removing the collar from it. The cruel claws inset around the rim were retracted just now and would only deploy if the Bard struggled, but the Warlord’s grip kept him still as the collar was placed and locked around his throat. 

Dark-skinned Kai picked up a chain leash with a leather handle and attached it to the collar, then handed the leash end to the Warlord. “That’s it, my Lord, he is secured.”

“Good. Then take my blades and place them on the window’s ledge.”

Kai obeyed.

“Bard, do you understand what I am about to do?” Samir demanded.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“You are about to fuck me… in the ass,” Brynnan replied.

A slight tug on the collar chain immediately brought the spikes pricking into his neck. “…Lord,” he added reluctantly.

“That is correct. I am about to fuck your ass. You are a virgin in that regard, are you not?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

Samir exposed his cock and rubbed it against Brynnan’s face.

“Suck,” he commanded.

A tide of inevitability rolled over him. The Warlord had made Brynnan suck him the day before but without the presence of the guards and torturers. He wondered what that meant. Samir’s cock, now rock-hard, was insistent. Brynnan bent to his task and began to suck. No tension on the neck chain constrained him, so he was free to move his head, although Samir kept a grip on his hair.

As he worked to the root of the big cock in his mouth, he caught the aroma of leather and sweat, and it stirred something primal within him. Brynnan closed his eyes, oblivious to his surroundings, even to the pain in his wrists as they strained against the iron manacles. He had no control of the situation, bound and collared as he was, with the ever-present threat of the claws at his throat. The Warlord groaned in pleasure, his cock engorging even more as Brynnan sucked hard.

“Enough,” he commanded.

The Bard found himself being guided to his feet by light pressure on the collar. It was an effective control device. The two torturers, Kai and Efan, took his arms and pushed him over the heavy wooden table in the chamber. He wanted to struggle as he felt the Warlord close behind him, and he exerted himself to be still, knowing that struggle would bring damage and pain.

“Pass me a lamp,” Samir directed the torturers.

Efan brought one to him. The lamps contained oil from pressed fruit. Brynnan could see the light extinguished from his position against the table’s surface. Then he felt Samir’s hand, covered in lamp oil, seize his testicles and massage them. As the Warlord’s fingers probed his ass, Brynnan drew in a deep breath and tensed.

“I will get in you easier if you relax your muscles,” Samir advised him.

Brynnan exhaled and forced himself to relax. Then he felt Samir’s hard cock probing against his anus. Samir pushed, and the head of his cock entered the Bard. Brynnan stifled an involuntary cry and waited for more pain, but the cock was still.

“Relax, Bard,” Samir warned him again.

The painful, throbbing tightness eased a little. Brynnan felt more oil on his ass as Samir lubricated his cock, and then pushed it deeper. The Bard took it, although he felt as if his ass would tear. Samir began to thrust in and out slowly.

Brynnan felt hands on his cock and balls and knew it must be one of the torturers. He shuddered at the thought that they might be allowed to suck them. He detested them. They had beaten him daily for a year, and even though he knew it was on Samir’s orders, he felt hatred towards them that he did not feel for the Warlord. Once in the distant past, he and Samir had shared a relationship based on mutual respect.

Samir started thrusting in earnest, one hand in Brynnan’s hair, the other controlling the neck chain. His cock penetrated the Bard deeply, and Brynnan felt the slap of Samir’s heavy balls against his ass. He maintained his steady breathing and endured it.

Then Kai was kneeling on the floor. The torturer began to jerk off Brynnan’s cock. Samir thrust harder and faster, and like the day before, the dual sensations started to arouse him, and he felt a sweep of lust. The sudden urge to submit himself to Samir was strong, and he fought it. The cock inside him began to stimulate his prostate, and the need to come was sudden. He controlled himself with effort.

“Tell me how you like it now, Bard,” Samir demanded.

“It’s making me want to come,” he gasped.

“You will hold off.”

Samir then waved the torturers away. Kai spoke to Brynnan as he stepped back.

“Tomorrow, your ass may be ours.”

Brynnan felt an involuntary wave of revulsion and rage. Being fucked by his two torturers would finally be a bridge too far. His body shook with an unaccustomed emotion. The Warlord must have felt Brynnan’s involuntary response.

“You are mine. I will decide who fucks you. And right now….”

Samir then pounded into him with a tiger’s growl. Brynnan could do nothing but endure. Then he felt Samir pull out.

“I am going to come on your ass.”

A few strong jerks of his hand and hot semen splashed all over Brynnan’s flesh, and the Bard felt himself losing control.

Samir, sensing it, said, “Cum now.”

Brynnan cried out and spilled his load, shuddering with the force of it. He felt the collar prick his neck, barely puncturing his flesh except in one spot. He was aware of a warm trickle of blood on his throat.

Samir leaned over him and growled in his ear, “Whose bitch are you?”

“I am your bitch,” Brynnan conceded as he finally allowed himself to submit.