"Arabian Nights"
Part 92
by Beryll
- Warning: contains torture, rape and evil magic -
More torches had been lid in the two cells holding Viggo and Eric, shedding
their light on details Viggo would have preferred to stay oblivious of, casting
too many constantly moving shadows. They were also adding to the heat of too
many bodies in such an enclosed space, making everyone sweaty and aggressive.
Not that anything would have been needed to make the men in Eric's cell any more aggressive or cruel. They were not only paid to inflict pain, they enjoyed it - Viggo was sure of that after watching them for countless hours. He was trying to remember their faces, trying to keep a mental list on who needed to die the most painful way for everything he had done, but it was all starting to blend into each other. An endless parade of filthy, ugly, brutal men torturing and raping Eric.
The only one who truly stood out among them was the tall broad man with the many tattoos creeping over his bald head. He was presiding over the whole show, ordering the guards here and there, correcting them when he thought they were not working Eric hard enough. His gleeful smile mixed with his cold professionalism was the creepiest and most disgusting thing Viggo had ever seen. Viggo had quickly reserved a special place for him in his heart.
They had changed the way Eric was bound. His hands shackled on his back and reattached to the chain going up to the ceiling, the chain pulled tight so Eric was forced to bend forward or twist his own arms out. It put him in a perfect position for them. His last clothes had been cut off him, leaving some angry red marks that had much too fast disappeared under fresher wounds.
First they had whipped him. Not too much. Just enough to open a few just closing cuts from his last beating. Just enough to make him groan in pain through gritted teeth.
Then the bald one had taken over, switching to heated irons. At first he had only singed the hair on his arms and legs, giving Eric just a little taste of the pain. Then he had picked out a spot on Eric's hip and started really burning him, creating an intricate pattern of tightly packed small burn marks. That was when Eric had first screamed.
Viggo could not see much of Eric's face with the other man's hair hanging into his face but he was sure he had never seen him in such pain.
After that they had gone back to whipping him. Not just his back but his legs as well, covering him in welts and bruises and open cuts. By the time they seemed to be done Eric had hung limply.
He had been giving just enough time to recover his senses when they had thrown a bucket of dirty water at him to wake him fully.
Viggo had known it was going to happen but Eric obviously hadn't as his eyes had flown wide and he had screamed in pain and rage as the first of them grabbed his hips - right where those burn marks were - and shoved into him without warning or preparation. He had fucked Eric hard and fast, grunting like a pig. Viggo had watched as his friend struggled helplessly and in the end had no chance but to submit. There had been blood on the man's cock when he pulled out. The one taking his place hadn't minded one bit.
There seemed to be an endless supply of guards who wanted a turn. Viggo had lost count of them. The mixed cum and blood running down Eric's thighs was testament of how many had raped him.
The first few who had tried to fuck his mouth as well had been bitten but by now he was barely conscious, spitted on cock in both ends, they were pushing him back and forth like a rag doll.
It was pure horror. A sight Viggo was sure would be with him in his nightmares for many, many years should he survive this. Still Viggo would gladly have traded places with him. At first because he had wanted to take his friend's pain on his own shoulders. By now because he could no longer bear what was being done to him, because Eric's fate seemed preferable.
Viggo's only pain was the fact that his arms were still bound high above his head, muscles aching from the strain of carrying most of his weight. But apart from that the most intense pleasure he had ever felt in his life was coursing through every nerve. The hard cock deep inside him rubbed all the right places, caressing him inside, moving slowly, steadily in and out. The arms wrapped around him tight, the hands caressing his skin, leaving burning trails of pure bliss. Kisses and gently bites covered his shoulders and neck. It would have been the perfect fuck - actually even the perfect love-making - if it hadn't been going on for hours, if he hadn't been forced to watch what they were doing to Eric at the same time.
It was the man with the gentle eyes who had stepped behind Viggo when they had started whipping Eric. Viggo had expected the same treatment as Eric was receiving but instead he had been carefully stripped. And then those elegant fingers had first touched his skin and it had send sparks flying in his blood. Viggo was sure the man was using some kind of magic, nothing natural could feel this good. He had been prepared with the utmost care while Eric suffered right before his eyes.
When Eric had screamed Viggo had moaned in helpless pleasure as that cock had first entered him.
Now his whole body was on fire but there seemed no end to it. He needed to come, he craved it more than he had ever wanted anything in his life but he couldn't. Even with those skilful fingers wrapped around his cock, constantly coaxing him to new heights there was no release. The same magic that provided this impossible pleasure denied him completion.
Still he refused to beg.
Eric had screamed with pain but not once had he begged for them to stop.
"End it, princeling," that sweet, sad voice whispered in his ear again like it had so many times in the last hours, "end his pain. I know you want to. Let me stop this. Allah knows I can't bear to see you two like this anymore. I beg you princeling, say the words."
With an incoherent groan of pleasure Viggo jerkily shook his head. He would not give in.
-
"He is ready for you now, my lord."
It was hard to keep his voice down to the meek obedience his master expected but somehow Craig managed. Like he always did. It wasn't harder than all the other things his master demanded. In fact it was one of the easiest chores.
"About bloody time!" Lord Christopher looked up from the papers he had been studying, regarding Craig with contempt. "What is it, are you and Vosloo losing your edge?"
Craig knew his master didn't expect an answer so he kept his icy reply to himself. Not that he would have voiced it anyway.
"Well then, get me there!" Lord Christopher demanded impatiently, "You don't expect me to walk, do you?"
Of course not. Why would anyone expect a man who didn't even do his own torturing to walk to his dungeons?
In silent obedience Craig whisked them both to the cell he had spend almost the whole day in. An imperceptible shudder ran through him as he again faced what he had been forced to do. Prince Viggo was covered in sweat, his eyes glazed with the intense pleasure still wracking his body, his erection was straining against his stomach, his body was twisting helplessly, seeking any kind of contact, silently begging for release.
Craig hated himself like he had so often done in the years since he had first been forced to serve Lord Christopher.
You are doing this for a reason, he told himself silently. You are doing this for your love. It did not help as much as it used to but it still was something to cling to.
Lord Christopher stepped up to the prince, let his greedy fingers run over hot skin, delight in his eyes as Viggo unconsciously leaned into the touch. Then his eyes cleared enough to recognize who was touching him and he recoiled.
"Well?" Lord Christopher demanded.
For a moment Craig thought - hoped - the prince would have changed his mind, would have found some more strength to resist.
"Please..." Viggo whispered, shattering that hope.
"Please what, my sweet pet?" Lord Christopher asked with malicious glee now tinting his voice. Again he caressed the prince's body and this time he suffered the touch.
"Please..." Viggo seemed to choke on the words but he forced them out anyway, "fuck me."
Craig almost expected his master to draw it out longer, to try to force more submission from the prince but Lord Christopher had broken many slaves. He knew when to push and when not to. He stepped behind Viggo, loosening his robes and then quickly shoved his already hard cock into the well fucked hole.
Viggo cried out in pleasure, his head falling back against his hated captor, every muscle in his body tense as he strained to gain release at last.
Craig held his spell. If he allowed the prince to come before his master did there would be hell to pay.
Lord Christopher was taking his time, fucking the prince in long, slow strokes. His intention to make Viggo suffer as long as possible was clear to Craig and it made bile rise in his throat. There was not much he could do to defy his master but Craig decided this was a moment where it would go unnoticed. Gently he extended his spell to his master's body, making his excitement rise. He smiled as Lord Christopher rammed into Viggo harder, both of them moaning in pleasure. It took only a few more deep strokes and then Craig released both of them, making them come together.
The prince hung in his shackles limply, occasional shudders wracking his body.
Lord Christopher wrapped his arms around the prince's body, cradling him almost lovingly.
"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it pet?" he crooned softly, "That went well for your first lesson. I'm sure we will make a good fuck of you yet."
Craig turned away. He knew his master's words were true. It made him want to scream. But he wasn't allowed to.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
go to PART 93