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Starts where the torches go out in the tunnel
The first ones are extinguished. His heart skips a beat in both fear and anticipation. D3rlord can only assume the thing that is extinguishing the torches is the same thing that was following him in the cave. He keeps moving.
The next set of torches goes out. His throat goes dry and the words he wants to say out loud seem to get stuck in his throat. His voice comes out weaker than he wants, “I’m not scared.” It does very little to convince even himself. He turns back around to continue walking.
The rest go out and D3rlord stops in his tracks. His breathing barely audible to even himself. This isn’t normal, he thinks to himself. He turns back around to nothing there. The once lit tunnel now only has light coming from the entrance. D3rlord takes a shaky breath, nerves on edge.
He can hear them ever so faintly. Whispering sweet nothings into his head. D3rlord’s body goes rigid, as if he no longer has control. It’s wrong.
Something is wrong.
His mind becomes sluggish, the sweet whispers seemingly enter his brain without any care. The edge of his vision turns a sickly sweet yellow as he hears a voice that is not his own.
His body no longer feels his own. His legs move towards the edge of the tunnel on their own accord. The whispers now talk to him louder than before. D3rlord’s body sways. He watches helplessly as his body keeps moving towards the edge. He can just barely make out the sweet words now.
Come. Come. Come. Come. Come.
His body simply leans over the edge and he’s falling. D3rlord seems to get back control of his limbs as they now flail. The fall is long and he swears under the water he can see something there, waiting. He hits the water hard, his armor drenched as the weight of it pulls him down. But it’s not just his armor pulling him down, something is in the water.
It’s almost impossible to see them, but D3rlord feels the hands all over him, pulling. Multiple sets of hands which doesn’t seem possible. A pair of hands on his hips, a pair grabbing his legs, a pair forcing his hands behind his back, they’re all over him. D3rlord struggles against them but he’s smart enough to know that he can’t get out. The hands aren’t exactly hurting him, but they feel almost….intimate.
His vision begins to fade, being under water with no air will do that, but it sparks a panic in his chest. The hands keep pulling, he can’t see where to, but they're pulling him somewhere. He struggles against the hands as strong as he can manage. They tighten around him, and a new pair wraps around his neck causing what little air he had left to be squeezed out. D3rlord thrashes as best he can but it’s useless. As his vision fades he can faintly feel the hands hold a little tighter.
As his consciousness slips he can faintly hear the whispers again.
Little lord. Little lord. Little lord.
He wakes in the oasis. His brain hurts and it takes a few minutes to start running again. He groans as he pushes himself up with his hands, feeling the hard ground under his fingertips. D3rlord sits ups, taking in his surroundings with a pounding head. How did I get here? The phantom feeling of hands on his body sends a shiver down his spine and the memories flood back. He brings a hand up to his neck remembering where the void pair was before.
He shakes his head and stands up, looking around at the seemingly endless amount of trees. He sighs and looks down at the small lake he was dragged through. D3rlord can see the opening at the bottom and quickly dives in to plug it up.
After that’s done, he wanders around and on top of the trees. He takes note of the three signs and makes his way towards where they converge. It takes a little digging to eventually find the next tunnel. D3rlord takes one last look around the oasis before dropping down.
He walks to the end of the tunnel and is surprised to see a…village? This place seems abandoned. He thinks to himself. As he walks, he enters a few houses, checking to see if anything of value is there for him to use. Dragging his feet through the village, head still pounding, he spots the angel statue. “Well that's creepy.” He says to no one but himself.
He climbs to the top of the statue and sits for a while, breathing heavily as his head starts to hurt some more. D3rlord buries his head in his hands, groaning as the pain worsens. He takes some deep breaths, hoping the pain will subside even just a little. As he lifts his head he spots it, just on the outskirt of the village, another house.
He pulls himself up to his feet and makes his way down the statue and to the house. His head feels like daggers are being stabbed into it with every step he takes. By the time he reaches the house he has to take a moment to collect himself. Black spots dance at the edge of his vision as he steadies himself against the house. He takes a deep breath through his nose and enters. It takes a few minutes before he finds the trap door hidden. He collects himself enough to head down.
D3rlord looks around the rather sad basement before picking up and reading the book. Ramblings and warnings of a king are scribbled onto the pages. D3rlord gave it a once over before putting it back down, sighing with indignation. “This is dumb.” he says. He sighed and looked around the basement, breaking somethings here and there in frustration before knocking over the bookshelf in the back. His breath hitched as a set of doors were revealed behind. The book said to turn back… he continued forward.
I should have turned back, he thought to himself. Something was wrong with this cave but he couldn’t place his finger on what it was. He came to a crossroads and looked both ways, neither really calling out to him before he decided to go left.
As his feet carried him through the cave something in his gut started twisting. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as his feet carried forward. The pounding in his head seemed to worsen with each step he took. D3rlord staggered forward as the cave opened to reveal a large yellow door. He leaned against a nearby wall, breathing shallow as the pain became almost unbearable. His brows furrowed as he took deep breaths.
He weakly lifted his head up from the wall to take in the sight of the yellow doors before him. “I can do this.” He mumbled to himself. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up from the wall, legs weakly carrying him to the doors. His armor creaked and groaned with each step as if warning him to go back. He stood in front of the doors, looking at them slightly ajar.
D3rlord hadn’t even noticed that the whispers were back, ever so faintly. He walked through the open door to what seemed like an empty room. A soft yellow hue seemed to radiate from everywhere. He looked around, the sinking feeling in his stomach felt strong enough to make him throw up.
Little lord.
The voice was so clear in his head that it startled a gasp from him. He turned back to see if maybe the voice had come from outside the doors but behind him he saw nothing. No doors anymore, no cave, no light, just the black room he seemed to find himself trapped in now. His breath caught in his throat, this is not good.
Little lord you’re finally here.
“Who’s there?” a slight pause, “I’m not scared of you.” D3rlord rasped out as the pain in his head seemed to multiply by ten fold.
Little lord I’ve been waiting for you.
The voice was syrupy sweet but also had the slightest tinge of animosity, like it was trying too hard to sound appealing.
The yellow hues of the room seemed to culminate in the middle as a large, slender figure began to appear. The Yellow figure seemed almost ethereal, D3rlord thought. The face was obscured by shadows. He tried to get a glimpse but was met with a hand grasping onto his jaw so tightly he thought it would break. It was too fast for him to comprehend before he was being pulled forward.
My little lord you made it here, where you belong.
D3rlord struggled in the grasp, his body instinctually fighting being held like this. “Let go!” The grasp his jaw was in felt like nothing at all but at the same time a burning sensation. More hands reached out from the shadows behind him. In an instant D3rlord was on his knees, body covered in hands, and jaw still in the hand of the figure. It was an embarrassing position to be in, D3rlord thought.
My little lord, why fight something we know you both want?
D3rlord’s head felt like it was going to explode as his eyes finally met the king’s.
So many thoughts that were not his own flooded into his head. Glimpses of past, present, and future overloaded all his own thoughts. That throbbing, painful headache now felt like he was being given a lobotomy without any anesthetic. The hands temporarily let go of him and he immediately curled in on himself gasping, his own hands flying up to his head as if holding it would alleviate the pain he was feeling.
A raw scream ripped its way out of his throat as the thoughts kept coming. D3rlord’s breathing became laboured as if he couldn’t get enough air. The king simply watched, a coy smile barely visible on his shadowed face.
The king reached out to D3rlord and grabbed his face forcing him to look up at him. His eyes widened as the king was mere inches away from him before he was pulled forward into the shadowed figure.
The pain alleviated in an instant and D3rlord’s breath seemed to catch in his throat.
Oh my little lord, I can give you everything you want. Everything you could need.
“W-what?” D3rlord could barely register the words
Focus on me little lord.
But D3rlord couldn’t. The pain in his head was gone, yes, but all the thoughts were still there, just floating around in his head. Who is Avery, and why could he see him? He wasn’t supposed to know him, why did he know about him?
Little lord focus on me.
The king gripped the side of D3rlord's face tightly, and just like that the thoughts stopped flowing. His eyes widened slightly as he felt the hands on the side of his head.
There you are, little lord.
“My name is D3rlord” he managed.
The king gave a knowing smile barely visible by the shadows covering his face. He seemed to be observing D3rlord. All the while D3rlord was observing the king as well. Well, as best he can.
“What do you want?” his voice was barely audible. The king looked at him, still silently observing. He tilted D3rlord’s head slightly to the left, revealing skin hidden under the armor.
My little lord, why do you hide under all this armor?
Hands reached out from the void and the next thing he knew his helmet was gone. A soft gasp escaped his lips as his helmet was lifted. His face and neck now fully visible. He felt exposed, and the king knew it. The king didn’t seem to acknowledge his uncomfortableness however and kept his head slightly tilted to the left.
The king leaned forward and before D3rlord could even register what was happening he felt a fair of lips on his neck. His brain short circuited. “Wait!” But the king wasn’t stopping. D3rlord tried to move, to push the king away but hands reached out from the void and wrapped themselves around him, pinning his hands behind his back. He felt trapped, and oddly enough that stirred something in him. “Wait stop!”
I don’t think you want me too little lord.
“You’re wrong, I do-” and again, before he even realized, a hand came from behind and grabbed the back of his head. Fingers seemingly entered into his skull and brain. The words died on his tongue and his body went limp, he collapsed into the king's many arms. The king, seemingly satisfied, hummed a hauntingly beautiful tune and turned D3rlord’s body around so that his back was against the king’s chest.
D3rlord could barely register what just happened, all his limbs felt like static. He could barely feel the tips of his fingers.
My little lord, I could make you feel so good.
The king's breath felt like fire and ice both at the same time against D3rlord’s neck. A flush of red found its way up his face and neck as he struggled to move even just a little bit. “Please don’t” was all he could gasp out.
Oh my little lord, you say that but your body tells a different story.
It took a moment for D3rlord to understand what the king was talking about before a hand brushed against a painfully obvious hard on. His eyes widened slightly as his mouth fell slightly open.
Naughty little lord. Be a good boy and just let it happen.
A small groan escaped from D3rlord at those words. His mind was still fighting against his body but he couldn’t move to do anything about it. Hands came from the void and made quick work of his belt. And all D3rlord could do was watch with a mixture of anticipation and horror.
The hands were cold against his body, he felt like he struck up a fever. A hand slipped into his waistband and grabbed his hard on not so gently. D3rlord threw his head back against the king's collarbone as he closed his eyes and his brows scrunched up in pleasure. A soft groan escaped his lips as the hand began to stroke him. The groans turned to soft moans as the hand kept a steady rhythm.
See little lord? I can make you feel so good.
D3rlord felt a hot coil begin in his stomach. The hand wrapped around his length was moving like it had done this before. His lips, now parted, couldn’t hold back the string of moans escaping from him as more pairs of hands began to touch him.
One wrapped around his throat just enough to make him lightheaded, sending a thrill down his spine.
A pair snaked their way under his chest plate and shirt, squeezing and pulling on his nipples.
Another brushed against his parted lips, dipping in ever so slightly.
And another was slowly making its way down his back, and that caught D3rlord's attention. The arm went past his waistband and pressed itself against his hole. His breath came in short hot puffs as his fingertips twitched from the fading static. His brows furrowed as he looked up at the king, who was staring down at him. The king just looked at him as he continued his movements.
Do you want something little lord?
It was a loaded question. D3rlord knew it. The king knew it.
“P-please..” he rasped out.
Please what?
D3rlord groaned in frustration, he knew the king knew what he wanted, but he was torturing him by making him beg for it.
“Please I need it..” he sounded absolutely wrecked. The hands all over him were beginning to feel overstimulating but in the best way. The one jerking him off had not stopped its movements at all. The king gripped his chin to keep D3rlord looking up at him.
Beg for it little lord.
Tears welled up in his eyes in both frustration and pleasure. His breathing was short and hot puffs of air as he struggled to find the correct words for what he wanted.
“Please, please, just please...” It felt like a weight had lifted off him as soon as he said those words.
There you go little lord.
The finger that entered him felt like ecstasy. He moaned out as the king continued all his movements. His hands, after finally gaining feeling, grabbed onto the arms that were jerking him off. His whole body felt hot, and his mind was on fire. Little moans and groans escaped him as he felt the coil in his stomach get hotter. The hand at his hole added another finger causing D3rlord to moan out louder. The hands worked in tandem together and didn’t allow for one second of breathing. D3rlord mumbled out incoherent words as his pleasure kept building. Mixes of yes’s and pleases were all that he could manage.
The king began sucking on his throat again, biting occasionally and leaving dark purple marks. D3rlord subconsciously tried closing his thighs but another pair of hands pulled them back apart. He let out a rather pathetic moan as he was unable to do anything but take it.
The heat began to crescendo as he little pleases morphed into incoherent ramblings.
“Please please don’t s-stop.”
The king released D3rlord's neck from his teeth and leaned close to D3rlord's ear.
Give yourself to me little lord. Let go.
And he did. His release felt like nothing else he had ever experienced before. The pleasure was so blinding that his eyes rolled back. The hands all over him milked out every sound of pleasure they could get. D3rlord shuddered and moaned rather pathetically as he came down from his high. His breathing sounded like he could barely get any air. All the hands removed themselves from his body except the one grabbing his chin.
His head remained held up by the last remaining hands, forcing him to continue looking at the king. His eyelids felt so heavy.
My little lord, you’re so perfect.
All D3rlord could do was give a hum of acknowledgement. He had no energy left in his body. The pain in his head was a distant dull ache and his body felt more tired than ever. He simply leaned back against the king as he felt his eyelids begin to shut. As he slipped into sleep he could hear the king say one last thing.
You’re mine little lord.