Work Text:
“My, what a lovely present to return home to.”
When Gortash’s low, gravelly voice rumbled from the doorway, Kvothe squirmed in his kneeling, bound position on the floor. His tight bindings, composed of the thick, red ropes, dug into his legs, arms, and torso with biting force. A strand of thickly woven hemp was wrapped around his mouth, muffling his breathy exhalations as he listened to the sound of Gortash’s footsteps circling him like a vulture. Slow, easy strides approached closer, and through the loose, dark waves of his hair, Kvothe could make out the pointed red devil tips of his lover’s boots staring up at him.
Gortash leered down at Kvothe, his son of Bhaal and tiefling lover, pleasantly surprised by the sight before him. Kvothe was on his knees directly ahead of the foot of the bed, his hands behind his back in a neat shibari knot. His head hung parallel to the wooden floor and his silky tresses fell over his face alluringly. Kvothe’s ridged, mauve-coloured skin was already beading with sweat, and his slender form was subtly trembling. Gortash let out an appreciative hum as he took in the full splendour— and that wasn’t all that was on offer this evening when his gaze flicked up towards Kvothe’s backside.
Oh, but he had lucked out with such a naughty little Bhaalspawn, hadn’t he?
Feeling fully on display and completely exposed, Kvothe lifted his head and watched the wicked grin grow on Gortash’s face. The perverted leer became more potent, and Kvothe knew his lover’s gaze had landed on his backside. Kvothe eagerly awaited for his lover’s instructions, breathing quickening in time with his heart. He had hoped wrapping himself up like a present would evoke the newly minted Duke’s desires to a fever pitch, and Kvothe could already make out the swelling bulge in Gortash’s trousers.
Gortash assessed the tiefling’s lovely posterior from where he stood, lasciviously licking his lips. “I must say, greeting me like this is rather innovative of you, especially on such short notice. I wasn’t even gone that long, merely dealing with a trifling matter down in Wyrm’s Rock. You made quite good use of your time.”
Past the curtain of his hair, Kvothe spied Gortash striding closer, the metal tips of the Duke’s gauntlet-like rings caressing the length of his spine. A bolt of pleasure shot down to his core. Moaning against the drool-soaked bind covering his mouth, Kvothe attempted to turn his head towards his lover, but the restraints around his neck held him in place.
Gortash chuckled, his voice deep and raspy, airily trailing his fingers down, down, down, until hovering over the spectacular sight of Kvothe’s tail, bunched and tied up at the base of the tiefling’s sacrum. The remainder of the appendage was buried deep inside the Bhaalspawn’s ass, twitching as Gortash’s hand approached.
The Duke crouched down to get a better look. “How did you manage to pull all this off, my dear? My first theory was an army of Mage Hands at your beck and call.”
When Gortash stroked the base of his tail, Kvothe practically jumped from the sensation despite his limited mobility, whining and wiggling his rear, pleading for more instead of answering the question. His inner walls clenched around his tail, and his empty cunt dripped in anticipation.
SLAP!
Kvothe keened against his gag, his shout garbled. The piercing sting of Gortash’s ringed hand against his backside was short-lived but sent a rush of pulsing pleasure right to his clit. Craning his head as far as the unforgiving bindings would allow, he caught a wicked gleam in Gortash’s eyes.
“I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Did you cast Mage Hand?” Gortash enunciated, gingerly brushing his hand up and down the swell of Kvothe’s ass before striking it down in another resounding slap.
Kvothe felt tears prick his eyes from the pain. He moaned and nodded his head fervently.
Another slap echoed against the walls. This time tendrils of pain and pleasure branched out, making his toes curl and legs twitch. Kvothe closed his eyes, trembling as the sting slowly dissipated, prepared to face the onslaught of whatever else Gortash chose to give him.
Gortash teasingly soothed the newly pink-tinged flesh, relishing in the way Kvothe’s muscles quivered in response to his touch. “Such a naughty, desperate display deserves a reward, don’t you think?” Gortash purred. He scraped the burnished talons adorning his hand along the ridges and mounds of Kvothe’s body before disengaging entirely, cruelly leaving his lover aching and wanting.
While his own cock throbbed within the confines of his trousers, Gortash wanted to draw this out for Kvothe as long as possible before indulging his own desires. Waiting invited pleasurable torture, after all.
Kvothe heard footsteps retreating, and he whined. This whole endeavour would have been a waste of time if Enver had no intention of actually fucking him, breaking the promise laden in his sweet, beguiling words—until the creak of the nearby chair set Kvothe’s arousal aflame again. Peeking to the side, Kvothe saw Gortash in his periphery. He was sitting in that very chair, his posture relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, his usual nefarious smirk plastered on his face.
Kvothe dutifully awaited his lover’s next move.
“Well, considering this entire display was orchestrated using Mage Hands, I think we should have a bit of fun with one. It’s only fair that one gets a turn for all the hard effort.” With a wave and an incantation, Gortash summoned a spectral arm. It was unlike any other Mage Hand for it was tinged a corrupted shade of black and imbued with Bane’s magic. Directing it, Gortash placed the ghostly arm in line with Kvothe’s slick pussy and immediately commanded the hand to slot two digits deep into his lover.
Kvothe whimpered, bucking eagerly to greet the fingers spearing into him. His muscles tensed, and feral, muffled groans fell from his lips as the phantom fingers curved inward to tap the richest vein of his pleasure. Heat hotter than the Hells themselves sizzled through his body as the hand edged him closer and closer to the cusp of a powerful orgasm…until it abruptly retreated. Kvothe let out a loud, frustrated wail.
Gortash tsked and shook his head. “Now, now. Let’s take a moment to relax, yes? Don’t want to end this show too soon.”
With a turn of his wrist, Gortash directed the hand lower, commanding it to rub teasing circles around Kvothe’s swollen nub. Gortash smirked when the tiefling cried out past the gag and attempted to steady himself on trembling limbs, pulling the ropes even tauter and indenting his skin. A delicious sight for the Duke’s eyes.
“I want you to fuck your ass with your tail while I do this,” Gortash crooned. “Think you can manage that?”
Kvothe could hear the slyness in Gortash’s voice, and that slyness merely spurred him on further. Concentrating past the bombardment of pleasure, Kvothe’s tail shifted, sliding in and out as far as it could before the resistance from the bondage impeded its movement. As Gortash’s spectral fingers worked his sensitive clit, his hole was stretched at the base of his own tail. The very thought of how deep it was rattled Kvothe’s brain.
Gortash nipped his lip, palming himself through his pants, electrified by the resplendent display of wanton debauchery occurring at the feet of his makeshift throne. If his time was not so limited, he could see himself playing with Kvothe in the bedroom for days on end. This fleeting moment would be locked in his memory for a long time to come, and would serve him well through even the dullest and most tedious of his meetings.
Thankfully, the hourglass had not yet run out, and time was on his side. He closed his fist, halting the ashen Mage Hand dead in its tracks a second time. A guttural groan beneath his feet signaled his lover’s displeasure, causing a wide smirk to form on Gortash’s face again.
Kvothe cursed the hand’s cruelty. If he hadn’t been bound, he would have slammed his fist against the wooden floors. If his mouth was uncovered, he would not mince words and launch them unfettered at Gortash to express just how incensed he was about being brought to the verge only to be denied yet again.
“Patience, pet,” Gortash’s voice rumbled. He rose from his seat, stalking over to Kvothe’s lovely, hunched form, undoing his laces as he did so. He lowered his trousers, releasing his pent up cock, before he sank down to his knees and laid his hands upon Kvothe’s shapely ass.
Kvothe remained as still as possible, quivering with excitement, his skin growing warm from Gortash’s palms as they parted his cheeks. There were so many possibilities, so long as Enver finally fucked him like he wanted. Then, the flat plane of a tongue licked up his folds all the way to his tender hole, a toe curling action that resulted in a wanton mewl and back arch.
Gortash hummed, avidly swiping up his lover’s juices and savouring them with each pass. Berry-like sweetness mixed with the tang of the oil coating the tail and hole. Pulling back and licking the remains from his lips, Gortash grabbed hold of himself and moved forward, slamming himself into Kvothe’s tight cunt in one fluid stroke.
Kvothe yelped at the sudden insertion. His tail exerted pressure against the thick cock stuffed inside and generated a heightened sense of bliss. He moved his tail faster, timing it to match Gortash’s pace in an alternating pattern.
Gortash gripped Kvothe’s hips tightly, angling them to meet his punishing thrusts. Wet sounds enveloped them, and the litany of heady noises from his bound lover were music to his ears. “My beautiful Bhaalspawn, so libidinous, ravenous for my cock. Such a good boy for me,” Gortash praised, before making the mage hand resume its ministrations with a mental order.
Kvothe whimpered, the overload of sensations engulfing him whole. As his clit was stimulated and his body was penetrated with ardent, harsh thrusts, the feeling of being so full had him teetering at the edge of a cliff. Gortash’s cock filled him completely, a perfect fit, and when timed with his own tail’s motions, everything crashed over Kvothe like a tsunami. A stifled bellow managed to sneak past his lips, his inner walls spasming around his tail and cunt fluttering around the prick ramming into him. A fizzle of static buzzed in Kvothe’s ears, and his vision went near white in orgasmic haze as the mage hand worked him over the peak.
Gortash fucked Kvothe like a man possessed, reveling in the squeeze and heat enveloping his shaft. He reached forward and snagged onto the strands of Kvothe’s hair to give a solid tug. It forced a more pronounced arch to the tiefling’s back and he leaned over to flick his tongue along the shell of the pointed ear. “Seeing the son of Bhaal on his knees, tied up, taking my cock like this? No greater sight on Toril,” Gortash remarked huskily, rapidly quickening his tempo as the rise of his own climax began to build. When Kvothe shivered beneath him and his pussy clenched harder, Gortash spilled over. A low groan resonated from his chest and he grunted with each molten spurt that shot out of his cock.
Kvothe was floating, boneless, as his cunt was fucked raw. The aftershocks of orgasm persisted, bombarding every nerve ending until Gortash gradually halted and the mage hand vanished. The room was bathed in the smell of heady sex, lavender oil, and something uniquely them that Kvothe knew was as a result of their bond.
As Gortash regained lucidity, a smirk grew on his face again. With measured slowness, he withdrew his cum-sodden cock from Kvothe’s pussy and admired the stream of fluids that slowly trickled out. “As pretty as a picture, if I do say so myself. You know,” Gortash sat back on his haunches as he tucked himself back into his trousers, “I believe I’m due for an audience up at High Hall with a few upper-city Patriarchs. I’m afraid I don’t have time to assist you with undoing your binds.”
Kvothe let out a surprised, muffled grunt, silently arguing against being left like this, defenseless and unable to conjure mage hands, but it was already too late. When Gortash made up his mind, there was no use resisting, and Kvothe knew that well. In spite of being a point of irritation, it actually re-fueled Kvothe’s lust and desire for the man all over again. How Kvothe craved more from his lover— his insidious, nefarious, intelligent lover— that he would give up control to this degree just to sate his desires.
Gortash chuckled to himself as he walked over to the bedroom door, stopping directly ahead of it before turning back around. Kvothe was staring up at him from an awkward, no doubt painful angle, glowing violet eyes heavy and wanton, and it was enough to sway Gortash– if only a little.
“Don’t worry, pet. I won’t leave you here without something to keep you occupied.” Gortash flashed a salacious grin before casting the spell for a new smoke-colored Mage Hand to appear. When Kvothe caught sight of it, his pupils visibly dilated, and his breathing audibly hitched, much to Gortash’s immense satisfaction. The dark hand drifted over and around Kvothe’s body, where it immediately plunged two fingers back into the tiefling’s soaked cunt.
Kvothe expelled a heavy breath, lids closing as he caved to the pleasure. The only sounds he heard as he fell into the pool of euphoria were that of Gortash snickering.
“I hope you have a pleasant rest of your afternoon,” Gortash purred, his voice a sensual whisper.
Following the slam of the heavy wooden door, Kvothe listened as Gortash’s footsteps receded until he was left alone, his only company the mage hand inside him.
