Chapter Text
The room is grey, lit only by the white glow of artificial lamps. Shelves line the walls, filled with bottles, vials, books and tools, like a laboratory, but with an examination table standing alone in the middle.
Neuvillette isn’t sure if he is still in Fontaine. The technology around him seems to mix machines from the Research Institute with Sumerian designs. One certain thing however, is that he shouldn’t be here, strapped to this examination table.
He woke up like this, restrained, naked, and legs open and firmly attached in stirrups. His arms are also tied up, rendering him virtually unable to move. He can barely bend his neck enough to look at the machine between his legs that has been violating him for what feels like hours.
The machine is box-shaped, for lack of better description, and is equipped with a mechanical arm ending with a tip that was shoved inside him while he was asleep. He shakes in his bindings once more, trying to get some leeway, anything to free himself. In vain.
He’s had time to wonder about his situation. Waking up like this, his connection to the Primordial Sea and the Hydro element cut… Who can do that? Subduing a Dragon Sovereign in possession of his full Authority…? There aren’t many culprits possible, and all of them are terrifying.
He’d rather not dwell on the aching loneliness of being locked away from his birthright once more, the reality of his situation more overwhelming for now.
The mechanical arm pushes in deeper, and he groans in discomfort and shame. He’s so deeply and utterly violated, and his anger doesn’t even grant him the strength to break free.
The gag in his mouth is just as offensive. Wide enough to keep it open, the shape occupies most of his palate. Any sounds he could make are effectively muffled, but he doubts this is the only use for such a specific shape of gag.
Why on Teyvat can’t he feel the water around him?
The machine stills, something stings inside him briefly, and he jerks with a cry. What is going on? Is it some kind of powerplay? Why not just rape him if his abductor puts him in this position? What is the goal there? He squirms again, trying to pull away from the machine.
The thing moves again, changing angle and aiming at his prostate dead on. Neuvillette chokes, biting on the gag, fists clenching. His muscles tense. The machine doesn’t move, pressing relentlessly. Neuvillette shakes his head and tries to breathe in slowly. When the machine finally moves, he realises with deep shame that his cock is hardening.
Whoever is doing this to him will pay for this humiliation.
A door creaks open, the sound of footsteps breaking Neuvillette’s mental struggle against the machine. He turns his head but can’t glimpse at his abductor yet. He only hears the ruffling of papers and the beeping of screens.
A scientist definitely.
Neuvillette’s breath stops when he finally sees who the stranger is. Shivering in barely concealed worry, he has to come up with an escape plan as soon as possible. Because the other option would be to stay with the Doctor.
Neuvillette knows of the Doctor’s deeds. He has seen documentation from the old House of the Hearth, his experimentations. He knows what the Doctor’s capable of, and empathy and kindness are certainly not amongst his qualities.
The Doctor reaches for a screen, the beeping breaking the silence, and the thing inside Neuvillette stills and changes form, its length growing. A strangled, surprised shout escapes him and he struggles again with how deep the thing reaches into him. Nothing has ever penetrated him quite so far.
It stills at some point, fortunately, but it doesn’t pull back, leaving Neuvillette deeply uncomfortable. He jerks up when the same brief sting surprises him. What is going on, he wants to know. He’s not just raped, this is an experiment. But what for?
The Doctor approaches him, but he doesn’t even acknowledge him. He simply keeps flipping his pages and turns his gaze towards Neuvillette’s crotch. Neuvillette struggles anew when a hand slowly reaches his half hard cock to gather some of his come leaking from the tip between two fingers. The Doctor tests the texture between his index and thumb, rolling the liquid with a thoughtful hum.
Neuvillette’s anatomy is unique, neither dragon nor fully human. And his come is too liquid by human standards. But surely, that can’t be what intrigues the Doctor so much?
The machine is still there, too deep.
Finally, the Doctor looks at him. “How does this body of yours work?”
Neuvillette frowns, incensed by this impudence. Abducting him and forcing him into this situation to ask this ?
The Doctor unclasps the gag, and as it’s pulled away, Neuvillette sees the opening in the mouth. It’s made so he can be force-fed without taking it off. The Doctor intends to keep him here long term.
“How dare you capture me!” Neuvillette snarls in a rare show of anger. “Release me this instant!”
the Doctor briefly laughs, absolutely unbothered. “And what if I don’t?”
Neuvillette can’t reply to that.
“You see, I made a useful discovery recently, thanks to the Petrichor Mass Hallucination incident and one very unfortunate vishap by the name of Scylla.” The Doctor tilts his head. “Remurian spells and seals combined with my own genius were quite useful in creating shackles for a Hydro Sovereign.”
This shouldn’t be enough, Neuvillette screams in his head. The genius of the Doctor must be off the charts to be able to come up with something so strong capable to cut his connection to the Primordial Sea. This shouldn’t be possible!
“Asking again, now. How does this body of yours work?”
Neuvillette growls, the sound inhuman. “Die.”
The Doctor chuckles, the deep rumble of his voice resonating with Neuvillette’s dread. He turns to the side to roll a cart closer to the examination table.
“A shame you don’t want to cooperate. But do not fret. I can find the answers myself.” He grabs a scalpel, cleaning it with a sterilised lotion and then following with the skin of Neuvillette’s belly. “The internal sensor wasn’t precise enough anyway, cutting you open will be much faster.”
Neuvillette blanches. Could it be bluff? The Doctor approaches the scalpel calmly, not overly slow but clearly not in a hurry. One hand moves Neuvillette’s cock away from his lower belly while the other flattens the surface of the skin.
This can’t happen right? Not without some kind of anesthesia.
Neuvillette is tied under the chest but he’ll move too much if he’s cut open like this.
Surely it can’t be?
The first incision barely stings, the movement that comes after hurts.
“Stop, I-” The scalpel stops, a fine line of blood trickling down his hips. “I will talk. What do you want to know exactly?”
Staying alive in one piece is more important if he ever wants to see his husband again.
The Doctor calmly puts the scalpel away, a delighted smile on his face. For the first time in his long life, Neuvillette is afraid.
“Tell me. You look quite human, but my sensor,” he taps the machine still whirring inside Neuvillette, “can’t see exactly what’s going on inside. Maybe a too pure concentration of Hydro disturbs it. What I caught, however, is that you have no intestines or digestive system.”
Neuvillette frowns and, resigned to his fate, he sighs. “Since my Authority was returned to me, I am now a being of hydro first and foremost. I do not have a digestive system because I do not even need to eat. But if I do, everything I ingest will be turned into water that I will expel.”
The Doctor hums. “Fascinating. So what is the use of your rectum then? A remainder of your time as a human?”
Neuvillette winces. He is a private person by nature. And talking about this, naked, tied up with what he knows now is a sensor inside his ass is clearly not a situation where he wants to be forthcoming.
“I am… for lack of better terms, intersex. What looks like a human digestive system is actually part of my reproductive organs, ah-” He winces as the sensor pricks him again. “I can’t tell you more as I do not know more.”
He’s lying but there is no way he’ll reveal his relationship to Wriothesley and how they’ve been contemplating the idea of having a family of their own one day.
“Any relationships where you received?”
Neuvillette remains quiet, an air of offense on his proud face.
“Staying silent won’t do anything, and you know perfectly well who I am and what I can do to you while you’re in this state.”
Neuvillette sighs and turns his head, annoyed.
“Yes, I have been receiving. But I use my Authority to reject the creation of life so it can never take. This is more of a precaution, as I do not actually know if I can get pregnant.”
How he wishes he’s sterile suddenly, because this conversation doesn’t bode well for him at all.
The Doctor smiles, a creepy thing that tears shivers down Neuvillette’s spine. “I'm glad we can trust each other. What you told me is exactly the same as what we found in this Meropide nurse’s files.”
In an impressive show of strength, Neuvillette struggles to get upright as much as he can, shaking the table and showing his teeth with a snarl. “If you hurt Sigewinne, I shall-”
“Hm? No.” The Doctor shrugs. “Why would I want people to know I’m interested in you? Silly dragon.”
Does it mean that no one knows he’s been abducted yet? How long has it been? Wriothesley said he’d be busy at the Fortress for the next few days and would probably not be able to see him, but surely the Maison Gardiennage or Sedene would tell him if the Iudex did not show up to the Palais Mermonia?
How long until the alert is given?
“How does reproduction work for your kind?”
Neuvillette must stall as much as he can. He doesn’t want to answer, which helps in some ways, but the Doctor’s threats aren’t empty. If answering can avoid some unnecessary pains, he supposes that’s not a bad trade. But each new question brings its share of dread and Neuvillette fears to understand where it’s going.
“Are you supposed to receive a male’s semen to fertilise the eggs inside you?”
Is he supposed to have human babies or eggs? He does not know. Everything is instinct for him. He wasn’t born with some kind of manual on Sovereigns, he was born alone and human. But… maybe having eggs sounds natural to him?
The questions keep coming, overwhelming and spinning in his head. Is he supposed to receive eggs from a male specimen or shall he receive sperm to fertilise what he has already? Hydro vishaps aren’t ovipositors and the females receive sperm to conceive with their own eggs, and then they eject a solid egg that she covers until hatching. But Neuvillette isn’t a vishap… He frowns, unable to recognise this emotion rising slowly but surely inside him. He knows what will happen, he knows but he doesn’t want to believe it, cannot wrap his mind around it. This whole conversation is a promise of what kind of nightmare he’ll be subjected to.
But why?
Without warning, the sensor suddenly retreats and he sighs in relief, finally empty from the offending intrusion… only to be cut off by the gag being put back in place.
“It’s a shame you’re the only sovereign I could subdue, but it’s amazing that you have a humanlike body and that you’re the one governing life. I’m sure you will be a perfect subject.”
The Doctor smiles as he grabs a tray and places it distractedly on Neuvillette’s belly. The cold of the metal is sharp against his skin. He squirms away, raising his head to see what is going on… and he feels a hand grabbing his cock.
The pressure is steady, not painful, but not reassuring by any means. The Doctor holds his cock clinically, his thumb and finger retracting his foreskin. It is invasive already and Neuvillette is scared to know what’s next. He squirms away, in vain, but the Doctor doesn’t even notice him. He simply takes a swab and cleans the tip of his dick, moving in circles around the head.
He then takes a syringe on the tray and tests it before inserting it into the hole. Neuvillette struggles anew. Nothing shall be inserted in there, especially if he doesn’t know what it is! He shouts through the gag but the Doctor holds his dick firmly, a smile lifting the corner of his lips.
“If you move too much, I could miss and hurt you seriously.”
The threat is clear, but there’s no way Neuvillette can just endure and-
The syringe penetrates his dick and soon, cold, viscous liquid fills him. Once the syringe is empty, the Doctor pinches the tip of his dick and waits. It stings but it doesn’t hurt. Actually Neuvillette feels his cock getting more and more numb. When the Doctor finally releases him, he glimpses at his dick to find the hole dilated.
There’s no time to panic as the Doctor grabs a catheter next and plunges it into the dilated hole. Neuvillette groans in discomfort. There’s no pain, once again, but the fullness is foreign to him, the easy slide disgusts him as if it was a betrayal of his own body.
He gasps in shame when the tube finally reaches deep enough and lets his urine flow freely.
“Oh? Colorless urine? How peculiar.”
Closing his eyes, face turned away, Neuvillette would rather not see or hear. The Doctor chuckles again as he leaves his dick finally alone, the catheter closed and not linked to a collection bag as Neuvillette would have supposed. After all, the point of those things is to not bother about natural needs anymore…
“You’re all set up now.”
Shame. Deep shame fills him. His cock doesn’t feel like his own anymore, and he dreads to learn about the next thing he’ll be forced to endure. The Doctor has taken the tray away, back to him, busy with something.
Neuvillette should stay calm and try to find a way to escape. He can’t just stay here and wait for the mad man to… to create eggs. This is the plan of a lunatic, and there is no way Neuvillette can accept this. But how can he escape? The shackles are, despite his hatred for the man, a marvel. They can break his connection to his own element too efficiently.
He cannot move, cannot act, and how can he stall if he cannot even speak? The Doctor barely pays attention to him, there’s no way to distract him.
The Doctor turns back to him and reaches for his gag. He doesn’t take it off, no. He only opens the front and pours a vial directly inside Neuvillette’s throat. The part inside his mouth goes too far in his mouth for him to try and block it away. He swallows, in fear.
Then they wait.
The Doctor grabs his notes, pen in hand, one eye on his screens. “Collection of genetic material is needed first. In order to gather the purest sample, I’ll first proceed by cleaning the urethral conducts of the subject.”
He’s a subject . And isn’t that terrifying.
Neuvillette squirms in his bondage, an uneasy feeling growing inside his bladder. It’s like a burn, an itch inside his dick that he can’t shake away. He needs to pee. He shivers in humiliation.
“The diuretic I gave you is pretty strong, don’t try to fight it.”
Neuvillette shakes his head, fighting against this new level of treatment. He won’t surrender. He has to fight back. He already replied to the questions earlier; he cannot also give up on his dignity.
“Oh so you wanna play this game?” the Doctor sighs. “You’re aware that it is closed right? What do you think will happen if I don’t open it?”
The Doctor knows Neuvillette has no control over his own bladder anymore. The Doctor can choose when and if he can empty himself and this enrages him as much as it shames him.
His abductor is a scientist, that’s certain. A mad one, but he’s also a sadist.
The clock is ticking and Neuvillette slowly understands that he’ll have to beg to have the right to even pee and that breaks something in him. Eyes filling with tears of shame he struggles anew in his bonds, his bladder is so full, his dick burns in what is the weirdest sensation of fullness he has ever felt.
He whines, pitifully. Please, he wants to say. Please open it.
The Doctor laughs again, a hand slowly caressing his belly until it presses against his bladder. “Do you want to urinate?”
Neuvillette chokes on his shame and nods. But even then, the Doctor waits some more just to see him in pain. When he finally opens the catheter, Neuvillette sighs in relief, the tension arching him slowly drifting away.
He can’t even get offended as the Doctor gathers some in vials for testing. “Colorless and odorless?” He says with surprise. “And barely warm too. Very interesting. I wonder, is it close to water in composition?”
A tear escapes Neuvillette’s eye.
He must endure. He must hold on until the right moment, he must wait for an opening, a seal getting loose, anything. He must not despair, despite the shame. He can endure. He must endure.
“Now, let’s gather what I need.”
There aren’t many ways to gather genetic material as the Doctor put it, hence why Neuvillette isn’t overly surprised when he grabs another tool and inserts it in his ass. This one is probably one of those new pleasure toys he’s seen in some specific Fontainian shops. To think he’d be acquainted in these circumstances…
The toy buzzes suddenly, the vibration a weird sensation. The Doctor moves it against his prostate and Neuvillette arches in a long bow, muscles spasming and toes curling in forced pleasure. His whole body trembles against the assault, his brain disconnected, overwhelmed.
It’s so brutal in its pleasure that it hurts. Eyes scrunched up, he chokes on his gag. He needs air or he’ll die, he must breathe or he’ll die, he-
He comes by surprise… and to his shame.
His cum slides down the tube, too liquid to stick to the sides, to be directly received into small vials, and finally, as he can barely hold his shouts, the device is turned off.
Tension leaves his body, and he sags in relief. He’s not naive enough to think he’ll be left alone. But he hopes it’ll be enough to keep the mad man busy for a long while.
“Your sperm is very liquid,” the Doctor says with a frustrated sigh. “I hope it won’t be a problem.”
Neuvillette would tell him to fuck off if he could.
He’s left alone after that. And he doesn’t know how he should feel about it. His spent dick is still filled with the tube, closed now. And the Doctor didn’t even pull the device from his ass. He’ll be back and will rape him again. Neuvillette knows.
Until he can escape, this is going to be his new routine.
A wave of anger overwhelms him. He who usually finds his emotions hard to understand, he finds that now they’re very clear. Boiling together are the shame, pain, despair and fear, but above all, anger is the strongest. He’s never felt such strong ire towards someone.
He cannot wait to be saved by someone. He has to do something now.
The door creaks open, and Neuvillette closes his eyes, ready to endure another session.
“The sample was too liquid. You need to produce more sperm.”
Neuvillette shoots him a glare that goes completely ignored.
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Neuvillette frowns in surprise as the Doctor pulls the device out… and comes back with a syringe.
Neuvillette pulls away, in vain, when he sees the syringe too close to his crotch. There’s no way he wants this there, he-
The Doctor grabs his balls firmly in one hand and, with careful ministrations, slowly empties the syringe inside. Neuvillette whines. It burns. The hold is uncomfortable but the product itself burns. It spreads like a numbing sensation and an itch at the same time, something overwhelming all of his thoughts.
He cannot breathe.
The Doctor releases him when he’s done, observing for a second, and then he moves away, busying himself with his screens.
Neuvillette keeps squirming, the discomfort not abiding. He arches, tries by any means to get some friction but nothing works, nothing helps. It’s overwhelming in the most insidious, painful way. Biting on the gag, he shakes his head, whines and pleads.
Is he going mad? He feels like his testicles are so inflamed they’re swelling. What did the madman inject him with? What kind of crazy thing is he doing to him?? There’s no way he will “produce more sperm” if his balls fall off because of the burn!
“Oh.” The Doctor moves back to stand between Neuvillette’s legs. “It seems I underestimated your body’s capacity to adapt.”
He chuckles and flicks Neuvillette’s balls unkindly, tearing a shout from Neuvillette. Uncaring of his discomfort, he grabs them fully and squeezes.
“Do you feel how swollen they are?” Neuvillette squirms, crying in pain. “That’s because you’re so receptive to it. My drug was only supposed to kickstart a higher production, but here you are…” He inserts the plug back into Neuvillette, taking care to stimulate his prostate as he keeps hurting his balls. “With swollen balls and getting off on that pain, you’re eager I’d dare say, to give me all I need to properly breed you.”
Neuvillette arches off the table, muscles taut with the onslaught of sensations. He’s hard, painfully and shamefully hard, but screaming in pain as the burning sensation mounts like a tidal wave, drowning him in a pleasure he cannot reject.
He comes with a long shout, filling the bag with way more cum.
“That’s good. But not enough.”
Neuvillette blinks tears away, screaming anew as the tool inside him doesn’t stop.
Thrashing in his restraints, losing his mind, he wonders briefly if this is how he dies. The pain is becoming some kind of twisted pleasure, the burn only appeased by his orgasms, torn forcefully from him. The Doctor’s hold on him hurts even more, he doesn’t let his balls go, forcing him back on the table as he pulls in and out the tool to make him go crazy.
It’s too much, but also not enough, he cries and shouts and screams.
The Doctor suddenly slaps his balls in one loud hit, and Neuvillette comes with a muffled gasp, tears streaking down his face unrestrained.
Only then does it stop.
The Doctor leaves the toy inside his ass, unbothered, and he finally releases Neuvillette’s tender, swollen balls. They still itch and burn, but he’s so keyed up, in so much pain and exhaustion that it almost becomes an afterthought.
The Doctor inspects the bag with a thoughtful hum, visibly pleased. Then he turns back to Neuvillette and looks directly at him for the first time.
“Your reactions are quite entertaining. I did not expect to enjoy working on you so much.”
Neuvillette wishes he could hold back his tears; he doesn’t want to give this man the satisfaction of seeing him break even more. But those are big words from someone who’s trying as hard as they can to gulp air from their nose so they don’t pass out.
His muscles are still spasming, and he can feel his anus retracting against the tool as if he was sucking it inside. The Doctor left it positioned so the handle grazes his swollen balls. Shame. His spent dick lies limp against his belly, the last drop of semen trickling down the now closed exit. So much shame.
Neuvillette waits to be alone for his tears to flow freely. How foreign it is, when usually his emotions only overflow the skies.
He is proud of who he is. The Hydro Dragon Sovereign, heir to the Ancient Seas’ Authority. And here he is… naked, tied up and sealed, being experimented on…?
He’s being raped.
When the Doctor comes back too soon―it will always be too soon―when he turns on the toy again and hits him, Neuvillette doesn’t care about his tears anymore. As new orgasms are torn from him with excruciating pleasure, he cries. As he moans and begs, he cries.
It becomes a hellish routine where time has no hold on Neuvillette anymore.
He supposes that he is fed at least once a day, maybe twice, so he tries to count with this base. He’s only fed through the tube in his gag, the thing unceremoniously plugged when it’s time. And then he’s forced to swallow water until the Doctor deems it enough. The taste isn’t revolting, but it has a lingering unnatural aftertaste that worries him.
His every day torture becomes the “milkings”, as the Doctor calls them. It enrages Neuvillette to no end, being treated as such, being subjected to this… Being utterly powerless.
According to what Neuvillette caught from the mad scientists’ observations as he talks into his recorder, Neuvillette’s genetic material’s composition is too different from a human and as such he needs to study it. His only hope for now is that it takes too long to analyse and he can get rescued in time.
He swallows, uneasy. He has to be rescued on time.
He must endure despite the new tools, despite the new humiliations and the new pains. Every day gets worse. Since the first day where he was injected with something to produce more, he hasn’t felt like his body was his own. And he’s ashamed when he feels the swollen and heavy things dangling between his legs. But at least now they don’t hurt anymore… only when they’re stimulated with the Doctor’s new toy.
Neuvillette knows he shouldn’t feel ashamed, that his dignity is still intact, that he is a victim. But the way he’s tortured and treated worse than livestock is taking a toll on him.
For now he’s lying, breathless, blissfully alone. The Doctor’s new device finally stopped, but it’s still uncomfortable around his balls. He is unfortunately getting used to the forceful penetration in his ass, which breaks him, but the new… case wrapped around his balls is a proper nightmare. It’s tight around them, constricting them in an almost painful cage after the injections from the first day, and it’s linked to some kind of Electro device.
Every time it’s turned on, it hurts like hell, electricity running through his body mercilessly. Combined with the prostate stimulation, it drives Neuvillette insane, screaming and in tears, stealing orgasm after orgasm as he slowly loses his mind.
He doesn’t even know the use of all this. The Doctor said at first it was to produce more sperm but surely there is enough by now? Is it sadism to break his will? If it’s some kind of mad man’s plan, he doesn’t know and it drives him crazy-
He tries to breathe in deeply, to calm down. At least this device isn’t turned on too often, because Neuvillette is certain he could die of overuse.
He must endure. He is Neuvillette, the Iudex of Fontaine. He’s the Hydro Dragon Sovereign and husband to Duke Wriothesley, Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide.
He can hold on, he must hold on.
The tool in his ass turns on again, moving in and out with a low buzz, grazing his prostate softly. He arches in pleasure, toes curling as his cock hardens with arousal. His eyes roll in their orbit and he moans despite himself, his precum leaking into a collection bag. After the torture his balls went through, this one feels like a lover’s caress.
He whines, hurt, plaintive.
How he misses his Wriothesley.
He isn’t rescued before the torture proceeds to the next stage.
It’s just another day when he’s woken up by the water suddenly choking him.
And then it’s the same ritual of begging to pee with pitiful sobs. Everytime he begs like this, he loses something of himself. He knows he must compromise to survive, but he’s not sure he can look at his reflection without turning away in shame now.
Being forced to beg for one of the most basic needs is… an ingenious way to ensure someone’s submission.
The notable change this day is that the Doctor doesn’t make him beg for too long. Or worse, he doesn’t tickle his dick or presses on his bladder like he sometimes does to humiliate him even further.
No, Neuvillette feels unexpectedly drowsy after the feeding, so much that he barely reacts when the Doctor checks that his cock isn’t inflamed around the catheter. This time he doesn't remove it to clean it up. The first time he did it, Neuvillette remembers, he was horrified at the feeling of emptiness inside his dick… and how much he wanted it back in.
The hole in his cock is large… So much that he is afraid that a pen could slide right in, and that’s a terrifying thought.
He struggles to keep his eyes open now. The feeding tube is removed, leaving him in a lethargic state where he cannot even lift a finger. He feels that he’s untied, but he is unable to react and soon… he just falls asleep.
He wakes up on all fours, tied up again. His hips and torso are lying on support bars, tied to it, while his wrists, elbows, knees and ankles are tied to the flat surface of the table. He tries to move his head, but it’s also tied to a support holding him around the forehead.
He has no freedom of movement left at all. Not even his hips, attached so firmly that he’s sure he will bruise. And his legs… are indecently wide open. He must offer a perfect view to the door behind and, flushing in shame, he almost hopes that whoever rescues him won’t see him like this.
The mighty sovereign, ready to be bred.
Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen to him.
He suddenly hears some shuffling behind him but he cannot see, and that terrifies him even more. He’s pretty certain that the Doctor is silent on purpose.
He jerks brutally when a cold, viscous liquid drips between his cheeks, making him shiver. Two fingers gather it and spread it around in slow circular motions. It’s such a clinical way to do it. Soulless. It’s calculated to relax his muscles and it works. The fingers enter him and, with a rhythmic pulling in and out motion, they do their work. Neuvillette clenches his fists, wills himself to move away, in vain.
He hates this. He hates that he’s being treated with such care, but he’s also relieved he isn’t ripped open every time. Oh, how he wishes he could be anywhere but here, forced to open his most intimate place to… this.
“The subject is ready for the first session.”
Neuvillette snarls-
… and whimpers under the sudden intrusion.
“There there, no complaining.” The Doctor pats Neuvillette’s head with disinterested care. “I’m certain you will enjoy it soon enough. I made this one just for you.”
Neuvillette chokes, processing the stretch his ass is going through. This is not like the sensor. The sensor was invasive, the machine used to milk him was humiliating, but this one feels… different.
“It is a dildo, I took the liberty of making it big enough so you’d feel it properly.”
Neuvillette whines as the head slowly, oh so slowly, slides inside him. It is much wider than it needs to be if the purpose was just to inseminate. But of course, the Doctor wants to break him.
“And inside this dildo, I fixed, hm,” the Doctor marks a pause, deep in thought, “let’s say I fixed a breeding pump.”
He pats Neuvillette’s head again, full of contempt.
“When you orgasm, your reproductive ‘uterus’, I use that term loosely given your one of a kind anatomy, will open up and this pump will be activated to fill you.”
Neuvillette frowns.
“Indeed, you may be discovering this. But after much experimentation, you do have what I would call a ‘dragon-uterus’ that only opens when you’re in a state of intense euphoria.”
The dildo is halfway in and Neuvillette fights his instinct to squeeze it out, unless it hurts him more. Why is it so thick .
“So, if you do get pregnant, I suppose it’s because you enjoyed it, hm?”
Like hell he’ll enjoy it. Anyone would be forced to come after so much stimulation on his prostate and erogenous zones. Neuvillette, despite his strength, has a human body for the most part. He can’t be expected to resist this!
He chokes, whole body trembling as the dildo continues its long way down and finally, it sits deep inside. He feels… impaled. It must be as long as the sensor he thinks. Enough to reach the entrance of his uterus then. The shape is weird, or maybe designed specially so it presses on his prostate so well.
Muscles tensing, cock hardening, he whines. It’s so big.
It pulls away before plunging back in, the force of the motion choking Neuvillette as it gains progressively in speed. He doesn’t have time to get used to it, the motions soon pounding into him and his prostate in a cold, mechanical way that makes him moan in surprise and distress.
He has to resist, he has to! But his nerves are on fire, his body is struggling in its bounds, squirming under the relentless assault that only becomes faster. It’s so deep, it’s so big, and it hurts in such a delicious way he whimpers in confusion.
His emotions are swirling in his head in a mix of fear, rage and pleasure that he fights back, until the Doctor’s hand wraps around his hard cock and jerks him off with way too much expertise and contemptuous disinterest.
His whole body shakes as he comes in a long moan.
Almost immediately, a powerful spurt of water forces its way deeper inside him, making him jerk violently and shout in surprise.
“Oh, the pump’s strength must have been set up slightly too strong.” The Doctor tilts his head, falsely concerned.
Neuvillette can’t understand anyway. He’s moaning, the brief pleasure of an orgasm quickly overwhelmed by this weird and unpleasant sensation of being filled through his ass. He can feel his stomach growing big, the spurt ceaselessly filling him with…
Oh.
Oh no.
The sudden realisation makes him cry uncontrollably.
“I replicated your sperm and managed to make it more potent.” the Doctor explains as he’s reading his screen, uncaring of Neuvillette’s breakdown as he’s assaulted. “It is actually considerably more complicated than this, but you wouldn’t understand.”
A whine, plaintive, broken.
Neuvillette gasps in relief when the pump finally stops, leaving him bloated and his stomach swollen. He winces as he's plugged unceremoniously, and despite him pushing it back, it doesn’t bulge.
Then he’s left alone, quietly crying.
It fails.
The Doctor checks Neuvillette the day after. He uses the sensors from the first day as well as some ultrasound machine. He knows what to look for but he doesn’t find it.
So he tries again. A second time, a third time.
Neuvillette doesn’t want to count after this.
It fails every time. He’s invaded, assaulted, and then cleaned of the remains swelling him, and it starts again.
When he’s not being bred with his own sperm―and that is a kind of horror he’ll have to come to terms with―the Doctor milks him. He always needs more material, he says. But Neuvillette suspects this is all sadism and a way to ensure he breaks apart.
After a new, spectacular failure that leaves Neuvillette almost leaking from the plug because of how full he is, the Doctor’s calm finally cracks, delighting Neuvillette.
Despite everything, he can still win this. He won’t get pregnant, he will try his damndest to make it hard on the mad man.
“Still no sign of fertilization,” the Doctor says in a controlled voice to his recorder. “Could it be that for this species, like humans, the psyche plays an important role in the conception?”
He flips his note, his fingers dancing on the paper.
“Triggering a heat-like behavior like for animals could maybe make a more favorable condition for conception.”
Neuvillette blanches. Heat? Like for animals? That’s not something his body can do. Not something his body should do. He certainly does not want to .
Still, it seems that the Doctor finds this idea his only solution for the time being. He prepares a new vial that he injects in Neuvillette’s arm. Then he waits for a few minutes and bends towards Neuvillette. With two fingers he spreads the skin of his eyelid to check his pupil and he smiles, ominous.
“Very good. Let’s wait now.”
Wait Neuvillette does. Powerless, as a slow deep burn starts washing over him, tensing his body. His muscles spasm uncomfortably, and he bites the gag brutally, suddenly thirsty beyond reason.
His breath is short, he struggles to gulp enough air, and he groans.
What is this urge? He’s never felt this before. The deeply rooted instinct that orders him to bend, to present his ass and open it wide in invitation for someone, or anything, to sheathe their cock inside him.
He wants to be so full he cannot move anymore; to be restrained, to be impaled by the thickest cock he could wish for, and filled with so much cum he looks nine months pregnant.
His body wishes for it so bad, and his brain only whispers to accept it.
“I didn’t expect the drug to be quite so effective. You look ravaged and desperate.”
Neuvillette moans in pleasure as the Doctor’s lubed fingers probe his ass with a detached touch. He hums.
“With time you’ll see. I will have what I want.”
There are no breaks for Neuvillette. His body betrays him in the most awful ways, convincing his own mind that he should just submit and enjoy it. The drug―is that even a drug or something worse?―is so potent he can barely think, all that matters is raising his ass as much as he can and begging.
He wants something deep inside, he needs something. A long thick cock. Yes. That would quell his thirst, that would put out the fire burning in his veins.
He whimpers. He needs it so badly it hurts and why isn’t the Doctor breeding him?
Neuvillette shakes, he clenches his fists, plunging his nails into his palm. No. No, he must not cave in. Whatever his body tries to make him feel, he must not enjoy it.
The dildo machine grazes his rim, and he tenses in fear. He doesn’t know how he’ll resist if the machine is turned on right now. He doesn’t want to admit it…
The head slowly slides in, its slick head grabbing the rim of his ass delicately. Neuvillette bites the gag, bracing himself for the penetration, but he finds that he cannot. Instead, the contact relaxes him, and as he welcomes the new intrusion with moans of satisfaction, he wonders why he wanted to fight this.
The cock is thick, perfectly moulding itself to him, reshaping his insides anew to make itself at home. And his body is so pliant, the cock so perfect when it reaches his prostate that it makes him sing in soft moans and hushed whimpers. Neuvillette’s eyes are dazed, teary, and blissful.
Why did he want to fight this?
Why when the delicious thick cock is finally deep, so deep. He is impaled, but how amazing it is. He cannot move, he can just take and offer himself, ripe for the taking. The cock rubs in perfect spots as it pulls in and out, relentlessly reminding him how much he loves this. He’s so hard, he’s never been so hard because he’s never felt so right . He is a sleeve, made to be used.
If he comes, will he feel the spurt of the pump once again piercing him? Will he get swollen like last time? He’s hoping so hard that this time it takes. He cannot wait to experience again the wonderful sensation of his own come forcefully injected inside him where it will find a safe place.
Finally he’ll be bred, he’ll become the home of a new life.
He can’t wait to grow big and round, when finally he won’t be bloated by cold sperm but the heavy weight of-
No.
He screams in horror and pain.
No no no.
He must fight this. Please, please he needs it to stop.
He snarls, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Before it’s too late, please.
Please, Wriothesley, please… save me .
It fails.
Relief washes over him, but hidden somewhere in his mind, he hears a whisper he doesn’t want to listen to.
Disappointment.
There are two more attempts after that Neuvillette can remember with certainty. His moments of lucidity are becoming more and more scarce, the drug too potent and confusing him. He’s changing too. He cannot say how, it’s more of an instinct, but something is happening to him and he just hopes that it is reversible.
Neuvillette is a being of hydro, the element of change, life, and adaptation, but at this very moment he almost wishes he had been geo, unmovable and enduring.
“Fecondation with the subject’s own sperm led to no notable results. After further studies, I’ve come to the conclusion that the material is incompatible with the subject. Additional testing with other life forms will allow me to conclude whether the subject is sterile or not.”
After a pause, the Doctor puts his recorder away. Neuvillette hears him move, busying himself on his shelves. “Oh, but I have an idea.”
Neuvillette feels the prickle of a syringe and tenses, already knowing where this will go. He doesn’t want this again. Losing himself like this is truly terrifying. Coming back from it is always a hardship, a no-return trip where parts of himself are irremediably lost.
The Doctor left, but already the drug is taking effect. It’s faster to flare up now, so vicious. It starts like hunger, deep in his belly, growling and burning. It spreads from his cock and balls first, making it uncomfortably hard around the now familiar intrusion. It burns like an itch he needs to scratch and makes him want to bend in submission. The worst is when it reaches his entrance. It’s when the urge is so strong that he would do anything just to be violated, because everything burns so much inside that anything entering would be a cool relief.
He’s relieved he has a gag at this stage. Because he starts losing his mind at this moment, when the need is so strong that he could beg for it. He would take anything, even in his mouth. He salivates for a cock, for something thick enough to choke him and silence his brain.
Please, he wants to beg. He wants something so deep in his throat, spurting cum directly into his stomach while his ass is bred so thoroughly he stays gaping for days.
He whimpers.
No… No, that's not something the Iudex Neuvillette, Chief Justice of the Court of Fontaine, would want. He doesn’t crave this, he-
A chuckle interrupts his mental dilemma.
“Have you seen how you’re squirming now? Raising your ass like this?” The Doctor shakes his head, amused.
He doesn't say more as he busies himself with whatever new thing he found. Neuvillette can’t see but he is in no position to care, way too focused on grasping at the last threads of his sanity.
Breed me, please, breed-
NO.
He roars, the scream so sudden the Doctor startles and laughs. “You shouldn’t fight so much, it only hurts more.”
The breeding machine wires up in a mechanical sound, and Neuvillette sighs, tears of relief pooling in his eyes. He doesn’t want this, but it’s the only way to alleviate the pain.
The head of the dildo slides in so easily this time, the mushroom shape making itself at home. Oh this feels so good. The thick girth moves in long drags, always slowly at first, grazing his prostate in delicious teases of what’s to come. He rolls his eyes and sighs, the tension of the fight receding to enjoy the sweet sensation.
Neuvillette clenches his fists, unable to hold back his moans. He can’t, it’s too good. He feels so right. When the dildo finally reaches deep inside, he sags, at peace. The shape, before so invasive, is sitting inside him as if it always belonged there. As if it should never leave.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Wriothesley. His mind whispers, but it’s washed away too quickly as the dildo pulls back and slams back in.
There is no struggle anymore from this point. Only deep and thick pleasure obscuring his mind in a whirlwind of moans and begs. The dildo is fast enough to make him tremble, but it only teases for now, makes him receptive to the sweet torture.
It slides so well, dragging against his walls, making itself at home in what used to be a tight passage. Neuvillette is in bliss and out of breath, whining in soft little cries. It always takes a bit for the machine to properly angle itself towards his prostate, but once it does, he sings the most beautiful song of pleasure.
Shaking all over, his back arching, he begs for more. Harder .
“Are you a whore now?” the Doctor’s voice whispers in his ears. “Or simply so eager for a good breeding?”
The words shake him to his core. A breeding, yes, he wants to be bred so well. He- He comes with a loud moan, litanies of begs following it. It isn’t enough, he’s still burning, he needs more, it must not stop, it-
His prayers are answered. The dildo keeps hammering into him, ensuring his full sweet submission. Eyes dazed, rolling in their orbit, the overstimulation is setting in surely but Neuvillette doesn’t mind. All that matters is that he’s being bred, so thoroughly, so deeply, it’s all so good and so perfect he never wants to get off this table.
The pump starts, as powerful as the other time, it hits him hard inside and he whimpers like an animal in heat.
He’s being bred!
Soon he’ll grow fat and heavy with life. He will be so happy.
No he won’t.
No he won’t!
Neuvillette groans, tears of pleasure morphing into pain. He doesn’t want this, he- The pump doesn’t stop.
Why doesn’t it stop?
He shakes, uncomfortable as his belly swells so fast. It’s heavy, too heavy and the pump doesn’t stop! He will explode, why doesn’t it stop? He chokes, flailing uncontrollably. It starts to hurt, but his brain is still wired for pleasure and he doesn’t know how to react.
The Doctor grabs Neuvillette’s hair and, seeing a spark of sanity in his eyes, smiles widely. “Do you want to know what I am pumping you with this time?”
Neuvillette closes his eyes, tears streaming down his face. Between moans he gasps, breath cut short. No he doesn’t want to know. He’s suffering enough as it is, and the humiliation of taking pleasure in this is one nail too many on his coffin.
The pressure grows inside him and he’s coming again, overflowing the catheter with always more come.
“It’s vishap’s sperm.”
Neuvillette screams, powerless, in pleasure, hurt, angry and desperate.
“I selected an adult one, captured it and milked it. Those creatures are large , do you think you can hold everything in your body?”
Please, he wants to beg. Please no more.
“Aw, yes he can,” the Doctor makes a cooing noise, “because you’re made for this, right?”
Neuvillette’s stomach is big. So big, and he can’t even say that he hates it. He adores it. He’s so full he finally feels perfect. Releasing his hair, the Doctor moves away from him towards his desk.
He must look pregnant with such a swollen belly.
Shame burns deep inside him. The breeding pump finally stops, a large plug is inserted to force him to keep everything inside.
Neuvillette struggles to breathe between his sobs. Once more, he completely lost himself, enjoying the torture, wishing for it to continue even! What has he become? A whore? An animal in heat, only there to be bred over and over again?
The Doctor grabs his notes, turning the pages slowly. Then he turns on his recorder, and Neuvillette wishes he wasn’t able to hear.
“Words of stimulation, specifically degradation, seem to have an effect on the subject’s pleasure. It could potentially help conception.” A pause. “The vishap sperm has been successfully implanted, the subject’s belly has considerably swollen to the point of making him look six months pregnant. Despite the strain, it doesn’t seem to be too uncomfortable for the subject.”
Neuvillette sobs softly, all fight gone from him. What has he become?
The Doctor chuckles. “The subject’s body has been greatly altered due to the repeated use of the heat-inducer. He now produces natural lubricant.”
A wail.
Neuvillette will hate water by the time he’s out.
He cannot stand it anymore. Waking up with a slap, being given only a few minutes to gather his bearings before the feeding tube is turned on? That’s no way to live. But he swallows as much as he can, his annoyance growing. He doesn’t want to drink that much, he doesn’t want to be fed like he’s an animal, he doesn’t want this… and he wants what comes after even less.
His bladder fills up, the catheter is closed, and it burns.
If only the Doctor could come in soon to relieve him… A wish that still stings with sharp humiliation.
Tears fill his eyes as time passes and no one comes. He can’t swallow another drop and it spills through the gag, almost choking him. But it seems to trigger some kind of mechanism and the water thankfully stops.
His relief is only short lived though, as the need to pee grows even stronger with his focus entirely there. He whimpers, shaking. Surely it’s not good for his health to be left like this for so long?
The door creaks open and with it comes the familiar footsteps. The Doctor doesn’t say anything, he removes the water tube from Neuvillette’s gag and closes it, not letting him gulp any more air than necessary.
Neuvillette hopes, he hopes so badly that this is the moment where the Doctor starts his sadistic torture to break him, by touching his cock, pushing on his bladder. Once he jerked him off just so he would come and pee simultaneously, all the while telling him he was a good whore .
There is no way Neuvillette will ever admit it was one of the best orgasms of his life.
Though maybe he’d change his mind if the doctor could relieve him this instant. Alas, the Doctor passes by to stand behind him, leaving Neuvillette confused and desperate. A finger touches his hole suddenly, and he jerks in surprise, trying to pull away.
“Hm. Desperation makes you wet,” the Doctor mumbles. “What a fascinating creature you are, made for breeding truly.”
A series of… testing follows then. Leaving Neuvillette alone with his tears and whines.
The Doctor tests the resistance of his rectum: does the lubrication also soften or dilate it? Or does it simply ease the way in? He pushes his fingers against the rim, tugging at it. Gently at first, with one finger, and then with more force and more fingers. Neuvillette chokes in pleasure, the stimulation only adding to his desperation.
“The texture of this slick is very peculiar…” the Doctor says to himself. “I need to-”
The Doctor trails off, moving away to ruffle through his desk to find some vials. He places one under Neuvillette’s rim and massages it deeply to squeeze out enough slick to fill it. When it doesn’t work fast enough, he also jerks off Neuvillette, who sobs in utter desperation and need. Please, he wants to scream. Thick globs of slick leak out and he hopes so hard that it will be enough. That he can finally be relieved.
But it is not the time yet. A cold, metallic thing suddenly slides inside him and his breath catches. The sensation is surprising, sharp but not painful and it doesn’t go too deep inside. As a matter of fact, half of the thing sits outside, resting against his ass…
“We’ll gain so much time now that you can self-lubricate. I’ll have to see if that’s a recessive gene awakening or something else.”
The Doctor busies himself with his notepad, shuffling through the pages. “The embryo created during the last experiments didn’t stay alive. After testing, it seems the lack of freshness of the material could be responsible. Use of other types of insemination-”
Neuvillette doesn’t care, he groans and screams, the pain unbearable.
“Stop bothering me,” the Doctor snaps, irritated and finally looking at Neuvillette. “What a useless thing you are, to interrupt me like this.”
Neuvillette clenches his fists, trying to hold onto his anger, but the Doctor finally opens the catheter and he sighs in blissful relief.
“Behave now,” the Doctor adds with a sneer. “I’ll be back in a few hours when you’re ready.”
Ominous.
Neuvillette must stay calm. Whatever comes, he must endure and survive. Until now it was hell, but he managed, he will manage. He has to manage. For his husband, for Sigewinne and her sisters, for Fontaine even.
He breathes in and out, as much as he can with his gag.
He must not try to imagine what will happen. Until now, getting ready only served to fuel his panic. It’s better not to imagine, but he must steel himself and his mind.
The Doctor can and will invent worse until he’s broken and obedient, full of eggs for him to experiment on. How long has it been now? How long until Wriothesley finds him? He must not be far. Neuvillette has no idea how he could find him, where he is even, but surely, Wriothesley will find him.
He has to. Before it’s too late.
How he longs for the embrace of his husband. The soft warmth of his smile when they lay together in bed, open and vulnerable for each other. How he wishes he had not ended up here…
He hears a sudden click from behind, then a wiring sound. He frowns and jerks in surprise as the thing left inside him seems to… grow wider?
Is he being stretched?
He tenses. The stretch itself isn’t too big, just shy of being uncomfortable, and it has surprisingly stopped for now. Neuvillette clenches his fists. Is he being stretched because something even bigger will be used on him? Until now the Doctor didn’t bother with that kind of preparation, he was doing the bare minimum so Neuvillette wouldn’t tear. The sensor and the breeding pump were big, certainly, but after so many uses, Neuvillette was able to take them with no trouble.
He doesn’t want to think too much about this new constant in his life.
The Doctor said in a few hours… What would he be like after a few hours?
The answer is simple. After a few hours of this slow, progressive enlarging, Neuvillette’s hole is gaping, large enough for someone’s hand to fit. It is now fully uncomfortable, and it would have been very painful if it hadn’t been done so slowly.
But why does it have to be that large?
The Doctor comes back to feed Neuvillette yet another vial, and another drug injection in his arm. Then he adjusts the different restraints. He tightens some, adds and removes others. The position itself doesn’t change for Neuvillette, still on all fours, but the table is lower now. The supports under his hips are moved under his pectorals, and his thighs are now restrained, leaving his belly free… which doesn’t bode well.
Even his catheter, which usually hangs forgotten, has been carefully stuck along his thigh, the extra length cut short.
Neuvillette frowns. Shelves and desks are rolled all around him, seemingly further away from his isolated table. The Doctor is humming as gets busy, waiting patiently for the drug to kick in.
It’s still as awful as usual. And with such a gaping hole, Neuvillette wants to beg for even bigger this time. He groans and startles when the Doctor suddenly kneels at his level, a wicked smile on his face as he checks his subject’s dilated pupils.
“I’d rather not be here when our friend makes your acquaintance,” he says conversationally, moving around to jerk him off. “I heard that your kin can get pretty territorial with their mates.”
Neuvillette blanches.
His… kin?
What…
The Doctor keeps jerking him off, Neuvillette confused in a whirlwind of freezing fear and burning pleasure building up.
Certainly, he wouldn’t.
No.
That can’t be?
There’s suddenly a roar from outside the room, a vishap’s mating growl.
The Doctor will leave him at the mercy of a vishap in rut of all things. This is how he dies. Neuvillette flails, trying to escape. This is not real. This can’t be real, this is a nightmare from which he’ll wake up.
Neuvillette can’t breathe, can’t process. A vishap. He’s going to be raped by a vishap. By a vishap!
But to think of how big it will be inside him…
Neuvillette screams. He must fight. He must not let the drug trouble his mind. It’s a struggle he keeps fighting. The Doctor’s hand on him is too expert at wringing pleasure from him, his fingers too used to grabbing his balls, still so big and sensitive, and Neuvillette moans against his will.
“You are ready now.” The Doctor pats his ass, taking the stretcher out. “Have fun.”
Left alone, Neuvillette whines. He’s so hard, leaking, and ripe for the taking. The vishap just needs to slide in, to nest inside his gaping hole, and they’ll both feel amazing.
The stomping of the beast’s steps is getting louder, shaking the ground.
There will be no breeding if he’s eaten! Neuvillette wants to scream. It’s too dangerous, he’s going to be ripped to shreds. How could a vishap recognise him with his authority locked away from him?
“Relax, Monsieur.” The voice comes from the walls. The Doctor has already left of course. “It’s been declawed and it’s muzzled.”
Is that supposed to make it easier? How preposterous. Vishaps are huge. Muzzled or not he’s going to be impaled!
“And it’s only a young one. I don’t want you to die before you give me what I want, hm.”
Sick.
The Doctor is sick and crazy. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but how could Neuvillette even imagine such an unnatural and disgusting thing? It’s so deeply wrong, it’s a proper nightmare in which Neuvillette can barely fight, his body betraying him as it burns from need and the primal desire to be bred.
The drug washes his reason away wave after wave, leaving him hard and salivating at the idea of finally being filled as he deserves.
The vishap doesn’t pounce as soon as it enters the room. It sniffs around noisily, its breath heavy and his steps a bit sluggish.
Neuvillette is tense with fear, fists clenched as he tries to hold onto the last threads of his sanity. A fresh, humid snoot presses against his balls with curious huffs and Neuvillette jerks violently with a helpless… and loud moan?
The gag isn’t closed.
That’s why he can hear his voice so much more clearly today.
Can the vishap interpret his sounds?
Neuvillette swallows, uneasy. Will he unintentionally encourage it with his voice…? He chokes on a sob, shaking with need, and his mind on fire. Will he, against his will, moan in such a way that he will seduce the animal even more?
Coiled in fear and excitation, Neuvillette never thought he’d be torn between such extreme feelings. Eager to be touched, eager for the snout to push further, to reach along the crack of his ass…
When the Doctor said the vishap was muzzled, Neuvillette expected a cage, but he cannot feel anything of the sort so he supposes its mouth has only been wrapped… He doesn’t give much more thought to it though, too busy feeling. His balls, so sensitive since their first mistreatment, are now a perfect source of pleasure. The vishap is almost tender in its affections, sniffing his crotch curiously, pushing his snout against the soft skin.
Oh… how Neuvillette wishes it could lick him, how he wishes he could move to offer himself better. He should present for a good mate. He whines, pitifully, squirming as much as he can, and the vishap roars its answer.
It understood his need.
A long wet tongue laps at his balls, making Neuvillette startle. His breath catches, not ready. The vishap is cleaning him off, dutifully licking his balls and his crotch from all sides in relaxing and smooth motions.
Neuvillette sighs in pleasure. Who cares if the vishap is muzzled or not, in the end. The texture of the tongue is cat-like but not abrasive, the coarseness of it satisfying after days and days of no touching. It wraps around his cock too, lovingly, hugging in such a tight grip that Neuvillette arches with a moan, begging for more.
He could come like this, there is no doubt. Licked so well by a tongue as thick as his wrist, cherished even, like the small young mate of a giant beast. The lapping and licking last for a while, and no parts of Neuvillette’s body are ignored. His stomach, his torso, and even his face get a lick, but the vishap’s interest clearly lies between the globe of his ass, where Neuvillette keeps leaking.
This is where the vishap buries his snout and tongue, groaning and growling in delight as its tongue makes itself at home. Neuvillette moans, unrestrained and too far gone already. He trembles with pleasure, offering another big gulp of warm slick to his mate.
The vishap licks with urgency, starved for more, and uncaring of Neuvillette’s flailing when the sensations are too much and he begs for a reprieve. The slick tastes perfect for the vishap, and hearing and feeling how eager its mate is to please only encourages it more.
Eyes rolling in pleasure, Neuvillette shakes like a leaf, voice breaking in whines. He’s being… a good mate. He has to give more to it then, he must please it.
He’s never felt anything like this before, the slow rising of his pleasure and the non-intrusive fullness. After all the previous torments with the Doctor, this is painless ecstasy. He’s floating, his whole body relaxed with the deep caress of this vishap drinking from him to quench its thirst. And Neuvillette is only too happy to provide. He chokes, he sobs in pleasure, sighing when his prostate is grazed, flailing when the vishap understands it will get more slick if it pushes there longer.
So good, it’s so good, he’s so good. He is drowning slowly, forgetting that he’s bound, ignoring the wrongness of it all, simply enjoying. He moans loudly, his own whorish sounds foreign to him, but why should he care? He’s loving it and he should show his appreciation to his mate.
His first orgasm takes him by surprise. One second he whines, low and lascivious, and the next one he tenses up like a bow before releasing in a silent shout. He barely has time to enjoy it that the vishap is back at it, licking all the slick that gushed out.
Everything is nice but Neuvillette wants more. He whines, low and needy, submissive. Please he wants to beg, please he needs to be filled. He’s been such a good mate, no? Feeding the other and offering himself so obediently?
The vishap groans with urgency. It is excited too, which is a relief. Neuvillette was afraid that he wouldn’t be recognised as a potential mate with his Authority locked.
Speaking of… why is his Authority locked?
The vishap interrupts his line of thoughts as its giant bloody paws slam the table next to him. But at no point the pain the creature went through crosses Neuvillette’s mind, already lost with the ecstatic hope that finally he’s getting bred.
It takes some time for the vishap to place itself, the position is made easier with how the Doctor angled Neuvillette though. The beast dwarfs Neuvillette easily, his giant shadow falling over him, its head so close to Neuvillette that he can feel its breath and hear its grunts. It starts rutting against the curve of his ass and lower back, until it unsheathes a large cock that falls on Neuvillette with a heavy bump.
Neuvillette whines, quiet sobs of need racking his body.
Oh! The cock is so long it reaches the middle of his back! How he needs it inside him yesterday. There is no way he won’t be fertilized with such a massive cock.
He needs it so badly, please please please…
No he does not.
The penetration is nothing like Neuvillette imagined. The vishap moves back and tries to enter him once, twice, and the third time its cock finally catches his rim and it slides in with one smooth motion, so deep that Neuvillette cries out in pain and confused relief.
It hurts like hell, and he will most probably tear. It’s so big and so long, he can feel it in his stomach. Maybe it actually reaches his stomach. Does he already look pregnant? It’s nothing like a human cock or the machines. It’s the biggest and thickest thing he’s ever taken and it’s all moist and cold. It’s a straight cock with a pointy head, it’s weird and novel and just enough to shut Neuvillette’s brain off.
The vishap doesn’t fuck like a human either. It doesn’t move back to slam back in repeatedly. It only does it once, as deep as he can and Neuvillette shakes with the shock of the thrust as the table trembles and his restraints creak with the pressure. After it doesn’t move back anymore as little hooks on his cock catch Neuvillette’s rim and seal them together until the mating is complete.
It stings but it’s almost forgotten with the overwhelming assault of everything else. After it locks them both together, the vishap relentlessly plunges in, shaking the table, choking Neuvillette, searching for its pleasure. Neuvillette will bruise, and it hurts, but he can only cry in pleasure as his prostate is hit constantly and his insides are stimulated in brand new ways.
Tears flow freely down his cheeks, his eyes roll in pleasure, moans are ripped apart from him. He’s caged by the vishap, safe in a wild embrace where he’s powerless and submitting to his baser instincts. He’s hard and leaking, no better than the beast fucking him, and he doesn’t even think of why he shouldn’t beg for more.
His insides are rearranged to fit the vishap, and Neuvillette is only too happy to oblige. The thrusts are too many, too much, and he comes hard and fast in a long scream.
The vishap doesn’t care about the human’s pleasure however, it only takes and takes. Uncaring of the mess its mate is in and only encouraged by the wet hole he’s thrusting in and the whorish moans of his prey.
Neuvillette is nothing more than a sleeve, suffering through the pounding, his whole body learning the pleasure of this twisted pain.
There is no need to think or worry. He moans and moans, begs for more with the sweetest sounds. The sounds that his mate cannot resist. He’ll be a good mate too, open and ready. A perfect hole to pound until it’s full, until he’s a dragon unmoored and drifting in an ocean of sensations, mind lost to the currents.
The vishap stills suddenly, and a wave of cum fills Neuvillette so deep he chokes, eyes widening. It’s so brutal, the spurt is so strong, he flails and screams as he feels his stomach inflating painfully. Combined with the cock already distorting it, he looks pregnant already.
The vishap takes a long time to come. It’s not a one time thing like humans, it lasts for a long time, stopping by intervals. During this time, it stays mostly still, sometimes tugging on the hole but the mates stay stuck together. Neuvillette tries to breathe, to gather his bearings, he’s exhausted and shaking.
He came another time while he was fucked, he’s unsure when. He cannot feel anything below his hips, his hole too numb now around the girthy cock… but he feels his heavy belly. Despite all, he sighs, his body is relaxing as it receives the vishap’s offering.
He closes his eyes, chokes on a sob when the vishap moves too roughly, and the beast licks his back in silent apology. It almost… feels nice. He’s so tired now, satisfied and so big… His eyes close for a short rest.
After a while, the vishap retreats with sluggish steps. Neuvillette gasps as he’s suddenly empty and the cum leaks from his ass onto his balls, falling with loud moist sounds between his legs. He winces.
He hopes he’ll get plugged quickly so he doesn’t lose too much.
“You should see yourself.” The Doctor’s voice resonates in a speaker. “Don’t fall asleep while you’re fucked so well, little whore, it would be very impolite.”
Neuvillette frowns. His mind is too full of white noise to correctly process what’s said to him. He is exhausted, he needs to rest, he-
The vishap’s steps retreat, only to be replaced by… more footsteps. Neuvillette freezes. There’s another roar, different.
“The next one should be easy for you to handle.”
As the same dance repeats, Neuvillette finds that he cannot even scream or beg anymore. Drooling just like the beast fucking him, moaning like an animal in heat, there’s not much left of the Iudex of Fontaine after this. Only the shell of a man, fuller than humanly possible, leaking cum from a gaping hole made to pleasure wild beasts.
He passes out when the third vishap enters the room.
Neuvillette doesn’t want to wake up.
As a matter of fact, he never wants to wake up.
He wishes to be a thousand leagues under the sea, swimming in the vast darkness, surrounded by the cold waters he loves so much. He is resting on the seafloor, alone, hidden in the weeds.
But he opens his eyes to a white, cold ceiling and he holds back a sob.
He’s lying on his back again with his neck, torso and arms tied to the table. His legs are attached in stirrups again, and his belly… is round.
It’s not as big as Neuvillette feared. He distinctly remembers that when the… when he… He swallows and takes a deep breath. When it happened, he remembers that his belly was much, much bigger. He wonders what happened but he’s glad it’s back to a… more normal size, as if it was the early stage of a pregnancy. He takes a deep breath in, trying to hold back his tears.
He must not think about what happened.
He will never think about it.
Tears break free to stream along his cheeks, unrestrained. He breathes in, struggling because of the offensive gag. There’s nothing he can do except hope, and even this becomes harder by the day. Even if he’s saved, what happened will never be washed away. His body has suffered damages that he isn’t sure can be fixed. He’s a stranger in his own body, suffering through an endless string of traumas. Enduring being born in the wrong body, having his birthright as a Sovereign stolen, and now, even this human body that he struggled to come to love cannot be left to him?
He’s tired. So tired.
Where is Wriothesley? Why is he taking so long? Why isn’t he here already to save him?
He’s no stranger to loneliness but it never used to hurt this much.
What will happen to him? Will he even survive this?
A hand suddenly pats his head and Neuvillette freezes. How could he not have heard or felt the presence of the Doctor? He struggles to move away but the Doctor only pats him more as he turns to enter Neuvillette’s field of vision.
“There there now, it wasn’t so bad. You’re healthy and in one piece. And if the records are to be believed, you didn’t dislike it,” he adds with a mocking tone.
Neuvillette closes his eyes, pained, and hopelessly hoping he could hold back his tears.
“There is no need to feel so bad. After all, the experiment was a success.”
The Doctor’s hand slowly moves towards Neuvillette’s round belly, where it stays like a lover’s touch.
“Congratulations on your pregnancy, Monsieur.”