Jesstrogen: soooooo tell me more about the cute boy we're inducting to the culeHypnospacePsychonaut: we are not inducting anyone new to the cule you dumb bitch <3Jesstrogen: verbal abuse, my mistress is verbal abusing me, everyone saw, i will b calling the cops in my dreams tonightktspace87: smh disgracefulKnifeWretch: ACAB applies to the cop in your head too JessHypnospacePsychonaut: Love you <3Jesstrogen: love you too whore <3
For Myrrah, setting up her Mind Dungeon had been a lot of hard work. In many ways, it had actually been even more effort than setting up her real dungeon; at least in the real world, you could just order equipment and someone else would make it for you. There were tradespeople you could call if you wanted something about the space remodelled (for dungeons, you either had to find the kinky tradespeople or the super-professional ones who just never asked questions, but that was part of the fun). If you wanted bits of your dungeon set up differently or furniture rearranged, you could just move them about with your own two hands over the course of an afternoon, perhaps get one of your local subs to pitch in if it was a two-person job or you just felt lazy.
Everything in the Mind Dungeon had to be made by her, designed by her, placed by her, and every time she left and came back it had to be maintained a little so it didn't slip away. She had to be very good at picturing everything, of keeping track of fine details and not letting the colors run or separate objects blend together. She was responsible for imagining everything working the way it should work. If a wand vibrated, it wasn't because it had batteries and an electric motor inside it; it was because she thought of it that way. If a riding crop stung when it struck a sub's exposed back, it wasn't because of physics and the delicate, complex nervous system beneath their skin, it was because she believed it did.
Riding crops had been a particular sticking point for her, actually; the first few crops she'd made didn't feel right. The weight was all off, the texture was wrong, they didn't make the right sort of noise when they struck and they didn't feel the way they should when they hit flesh. She'd spent hours in the real world just rolling one around in her hands, feeling the weight, examining each and every little detail on it. She'd gone to town on Val's back for as long as it could stand, just to see exactly how a crop performed in reality (Val's anguished squeals and moans had been a nice bonus). Then she'd had Alex tie her down and let loose on her back to get a feel being on the receiving end (and gods, the pain felt fucking good). Val had been allowed to watch that, but not to join in, even though Myrrah knew the little brat definitely wanted to after its own ordeal. Myrrah smirked at that memory: even while literally getting tortured, she'd still found a way to torment Val.
She was probably going to have to go through the whole process all over again with the bullwhip. Kate had been begging for something even more painful for Jessie and Myrrah to use on her, and given Kate's utterly superhuman tolerance for it - especially here in the dream where your physical body wasn't a limit and your flesh couldn't scar - Myrrah was fast running out of ways to keep her satisfied. Whips were gonna be complicated because they had all sorts of special considerations like slack and wind-up and the crack as it broke the sound barrier. The way the tip could move so fast that skin simply didn't have time to crease and deform to move out of the way, instead getting carved apart like a knife through butter. That was going to take a lot of work and a lot of real-world experimentation to get right. Oh well. Val had once said it wanted a few permanent marks on its back. She could check if that was still the case.
Yes, setting up everything in here had been a long, gruelling process of trial, error and experimentation. It had taken years of hard work, and there'd been mistakes and missteps along the way. There'd been frustrations, disappointments and simple, unavoidable failures. There'd been times she'd felt like giving up on the project. It had taken so much work to teach anyone else how to get here, let alone perceive and imagine their dream selves in a way that made anything in here the slightest bit useful.
But when she looked at it now, with five other members of her polycule assembled in it, one of them whining and struggling desperately on the X-cross, she knew it had all been worth it.
ktspace87: no but for serious whos lucasktspace87: you do shout outs for precisely nobody precisely once every neverJesstrogen: i know he's not a client because you haven't tried to send him to me insteadHypnospacePsychonaut: He is my little secretHypnospacePsychonaut: And not the fun kind of secret you saucy and o'erbold bedlams are welcome to try and pry out of mektspace87: oh so its weird dream shitJesstrogen: deffo weird dream shitKnifeWretch: Damn guys Daddy deployed the Shakespeare paraphrase it must be real seriousHypnospacePsychonaut: Val gets it, good rat <3KnifeWretch: Squeak >.<
Myrrah cleared her throat, smirked, and began speaking. "Thank you all for meeting me on such short notice! We gather tonight to decide the case of Weird Dream Polycule vs. the wretch Val. Who do we have in attendance, and why are you here?"
The first to step forward was a short, mostly-human girl with silver hair, large, expressive tawny cat ears on the top of her head and a long, constantly flicking tail that hiked up her too-short skirt to the point that the bulge in her panties was visible. Her emerald eyes were alight with malicious glee, and she clutched at the leash she was holding as she began to speak in a high-pitched, rapid-fire midwestern accent. "Jessie! I was told we were gonna tame a brat, and I wouldn't miss it for the world!"
The other end of the leash Jessie was holding was clipped to an ornate black-and-gold posture collar on the neck of a humanoid bat. Her fur was a pale, creamy off-white, and she was completely naked except for a pair of ironic black-tape Xs across her nipples. Her ears - each one almost as big as her head - twitched gently from time to time, making gentle jangling noises as the dozen or so gold rings running up their sides struck one another. She spoke in an unplaceable, vaguely southwestern drawl. "Katie. Mistress Jessie's here doing kink stuff so I'm, like, contractually obligated to show up? But I also wanna remind Val which one of us is the bottom bitch. It's gotten too many ideas lately, and I wanna put a stop to that."
This elicited a muffled protest from the squirming creature on the bondage cross, but it was ignored.
Next to volunteer himself was a brightly-coloured ophidian monster almost as tall as Myrrah. His body was distinctively snakish, though not based on any one particular snake. He had the hood of a king cobra, the thick, bulky proportions of a boa constrictor and the stark red, black and yellow markings of a coral snake. He was still sporting a human-ish set of legs and only a single shaft for now, but there were plans for the future. "Alex. Val took my name in vain," he growled in a distinct south Dublin accent, a terrifying smile playing across his reptilian mouth, "and the rat should know by now what happens when it calls the snake."
The last member to step forward was a short, stocky avian with white feathers. They had no wings, instead sporting a pair of reasonably human arms, albeit covered in feathers and ending in sharp talons. When they spoke, it was in a high register, chirpy, with a soft German tang to it. "Riley! I'm just here because I turned up at the right time, but also this little shit was giggling way too hard last time Daddy was doing falconry with me. It should know how easily I hold grudges!" As their speech got increasingly heated, a thin crest of pale yellow feathers began to rise from the crown of their head.
Myrrah smiled and nodded in turn as each one of her lovers explained their grievances, and then turned to the fifth member of the party, who had thus far not been able to speak.
The very first time Val had been brought into the Mind Dungeon, it arrived already on the X-cross. This was by design, as Myrrah's chosen way of inducting it had been to strap its real body to a very similar cross, put it into trance and take it all the way into dreaming sleep. It was, all in all, the most practical way of ensuring that the correct sensations to bring its consciousness into the Dungeon were present. The happy little accident that spawned from this, however, was that it happened every time Val entered the dungeon. Apparently, its poor little brain had so strongly associated the sensation of arriving in the dungeon with being helplessly bound to the cross that it couldn't separate them. This hadn't been intended, but nobody seemed to have any objections - least of all Val. Tonight, it was particularly appropriate.
Although the wretch could take any number of forms, its preference was to always start out looking exactly like its human self, which meant a long, unkempt cascade of wavy black hair, even more piercings than Myrrah and a matched set of tattoos around its wrists, ankles and throat that were something halfway between rose thorns and barbed wire. Apart from the slim, stainless steel ring that sat around its neck and a black neoprene muzzle strapped around its head, it was completely naked, leaving its limp cock on full display, swinging gently to and fro as it pulled and strained uselessly against the thick rubber straps that held it to the cross. Its eyes darted between the other five occupants of the room who, despite it being the subject of conversation, were largely ignoring its existence.
Myrrah cracked her neck, and then her knuckles. "Well, I don't think I need much of an introduction, but I'm Myrrah and you all call me Daddy. Even," she crooned, lifting Val's chin with a claw, "this one, when it's deciding to behave itself. Now, you all have really valid issues with its behaviour, and clearly the trigger phrases it had me put in its head and let me tell all of you aren't working to keep it in check, so it feels like we're gonna have to get way more hands-on in our correction! But this is a trial, and the defendant should get a chance to speak for itself!"
Myrrah stepped towards the cross, planting a knee firmly against Val's chest to keep it still, and unbuckled the muzzle. She immediately got her cheek wet as Val spat on her.
"Fuck you, lousy stuck-up pigwhore!" The wretch's voice dripped venom that sounded odd coming from such a quiet, reedy little windpipe.
The hyena merely chuckled as she dragged her paw down her face and wiped it off on the bridge of Val's nose. "Feisty today, aren't we? Racking up the infractions?"
"Y'know, if it wasn't such a reprobate," Alex sneered, "I'd actually be pretty impressed it got the hang of spitting in here. Still can't get that right m'self."
Val thrashed against its restraints, snarling between grit teeth. "Fuck you, fuck your kangaroo court, fuck your rules! I'll never behave! I'd rather DIE!"
"Then die, you disobedient, ungrateful, worthless little fuck-thing," Katie replied, her eyes narrowing to vicious little slits and her voice practically oozing malice.
There was a very long, very uncomfortable silence, in which Katie and Val just stared at each other with a poisonous contempt that could almost be tasted in the air. Then Val snorted. Katie fought desperately to keep her face rigid, but it was no use. Alex started giggling, and within seconds Riley was holding onto him for support as their sides heaved. Jessie was on the floor, howling. Against brand for a hyena, Myrrah held out the longest, but when she finally broke, she was laughing by far the loudest.
It took about five minutes for any of them to gather themselves enough to speak again, and it was Val who spoke first. "Okay, okay, okay, okay, can we... hoo boy, can we, can we try that one again? I promise I'll try to keep a straight face this time."
"Fuck you, Val!" Katie was still trying to compose herself, and this new comment sent her into a whole new fit of laughter.
"Katie, Katie, sweetie, sweetheart, princess," Jessie wheezed, struggling to get the words out between giggles, "I love you so much, but you are dogshit at being mean."
Jesstrogen: but is he cuteJesstrogen: if he's cute you legally have to tell usHypnospacePsychonaut: jess come onHypnospacePsychonaut: he is absolutely cute as fuckJesstrogen: SEE I CALLED ITktspace87: yeah woo myrrah picks a cute one big whoopktspace87: real nostradamus level shit you got going on mistress
After the little incident with Katie, it had taken at least fifteen minutes of dream time for the polycule to be able to take each other seriously again, and they had basically had to take the whole thing from the top, which meant putting Val back in the muzzle, listing its various crimes and transgressions, taking the muzzle off again, asking it if it had anything to say in its defence and receiving a new and even more vicious barrage of abuse, threats, curses and spit.
After she got done thoroughly drenching her paw in spittle and wiping it off all over Val's face, Myrrah turned to the rest of her lovers and rolled her eyes. "I motion that the wretch's disgraceful conduct proves its testimony won't be reliable on its own. Do all here assembled agree?"
"No! Fuck you all, fuck-" Val screeched, before getting its mouth roughly pinched shut between two massive fingers.
There was a chorus of "ayes" and a flurry of raised hands and nods.
Myrrah counted smugly on her free hand. "With all votes cast, Myrrah, Jessie, Katie, Alex and Riley voting 'aye' and only the wretch voting 'nay,' motion passes five to one. The wretch's testimony as it stands is declared unreliable. All in favor of using the pre-arranged corrective measures to compel reliable testimony from the wretch?"
Again, five hands were raised with a harmonising "aye."
Val's lips were briefly unsealed, so it could scream out "no! No! You can't! I'll never break! I'll never-" before getting casually silenced again.
"Again, with all votes cast, we have a five to one verdict in favor of compelling testimony via the pre-arranged corrective measures," Myrrah declared, turning back to face the prisoner, baring her teeth in a wicked grin as the others approached the cross, penning the captive in on all sides. "Now, little gutter-crawler, you know as well as we do that lying is second nature to a thing like you, so do you remember the puppet strings we put in your mind? The ones that let us pull and tug until that wretched second nature no longer bothers you?"
"No, no, no," Val whimpered as it was surrounded, vainly trying to look away or squeeze its eyes closed. "No, no, no, I won't, I don't want-"
Five sets of hands reached out to grasp its head, hold it in place, force its eyes open. All the rat could see was the predator's eyes staring straight into its inner self.
Myrrah spoke just four words, barely above a whisper, but sharp as a knife. "No more lies today."
Val's mind unwound, a shiver passing from the base of its skull all the way down its spine, a freezing chill, dreadful and ecstatic. The sensations were so profoundly overwhelming the impulses even reached the real, and its distant flesh body whimpered and moaned in Myrrah's arms in the bed they shared, curling in on itself and pressing its back tighter against her chest. In the dream, its body twitched, straining all at once and then going limp, hanging in the restraints. Any concept of saying something other than the truth faded from its overtaxed consciousness, locked away behind an impenetrable wall of non-desire. It railed against the wall uselessly, but even that quickly faded - forget telling a lie, it couldn't even want to tell a lie.
The others crowded around it, tongues of snake, cat, bat and bird, inches from its twitching ears. The primordial terror of these ancient predators burned in its stomach. "No more lies today," each one whispered in turn, sending a new, crushing shudder of surrender down its spine. They repeated the trigger phrase over and over, and every time that sensation rolled down its arching back, it went a little further, pushed out a little harder until it jerked violently, let loose an agonized scream and a twitching, thrashing whip of flesh burst from its tailbone. The rat had grown its tail.
For a moment, it simply hung, totally limp in the restraints, consciousness blown wide by sensation. Even though it didn't need to breathe in here, it was gasping for air like it was suffocating. Suddenly, there were hands again, but this time gentle, buoying it up, supporting its weight. The hyena's paw lifted its chin once more, and there were those piercing eyes again, but this time full of concern and compassion.
"Val," Myrrah whispered, stroking its hair. "Val, color check."
Val took a shaky breath, but held its head up on its own. "Green. Green. GREEN. Oh god, oh god, green green green!"
Myrrah wasn't too proud to breathe a sigh of relief. "Sometimes even I forget just how far you can go, love."
ktspace87: the only surprising part is the cule not expandingHypnospacePsychonaut: I told you it's not about the polyculeHypnospacePsychonaut: He's just a guy I metHypnospacePsychonaut: and there's nothing between us.KnifeWretch: Oh so this is an Alex situation~HypnospacePsychonaut: Did you bitches not hear the bit about NOT prying this secret from meKnifeWretch: That statement just pushes the needle even closer to an Alex situation~Ophidian_Solace: My ears are tingling, who's talking about me?HypnospacePsychonaut: Val if this behaviour continuesHypnospacePsychonaut: I will not hesitate to deploy The Trigger PhrasesKnifeWretch: You say that like it could ever be a real threat <3
"You can no longer speak anything but the truth," Myrrah said. It was blunt, a simple statement of fact.
There was a fight inside Val, so pathetically short it didn't even cause a noticeable delay. "I can no longer speak anything but the truth."
"You can no longer refuse to answer a question," Myrrah said. Again, it was not a question, nor was it an opinion.
Val tried its very hardest - truly, sincerely, earnestly - to say anything other than what it said, which was "I can no longer refuse to answer a question."
"You can no longer answer questions any less than fully," Myrrah said. No ambiguity or room for interpretation; this was simply a truth of the world.
Val struggled simply for the struggle's sake, to fight what was now years of careful, loving conditioning. All fruitless. "I can no longer answer questions any less than fully."
All these things were true. The wretch could not speak anything but the truth, nor could it refuse to answer a question, nor once it began answering could it stop until it believed it had answered the question completely. It told itself, in the deepest recesses of its mind, that it could, it could if it really tried, but it no longer wanted to try. Even if the ability remained, any desire to exercise it had been stolen away.
Myrrah looked up to the rest of her lovers, surrounding the bound creature. "Do all those assembled here agree that the wretch's testimony has been made reliable?"
There was a chorus of "ayes," the hands upon its body gently stroking, petting, running along its skin in condescending, demeaning praise. It squeezed its eyes closed as tears began to well up, weakly adding its own voice to the assent.
Myrrah growled approvingly, a triumphant smirk on her face. "With all votes cast, the verdict is unanimous. With correction successful, the wretch's testimony can now be held trustworthy. Now, does the wretch consent to interrogation?"
Val nodded. Val could only nod. It could no longer deny, even just for fun, that this was what it wanted.
Myrrah once again raised the rat's chin up with a finger. "Val, why do you act out?"
This one - this question - actually caused a fight inside of the wretch long and fierce enough for others to notice. Perhaps the conflicting emotions showed themselves on its face, perhaps it hesitated in answering long enough for the rest to notice, but it was a futile struggle. It had broken so many times before, and given the answer it was inevitably about to give every single time. It truly did want to give the same answer again, even if it tried not to want that. Its cheeks flushed red. "I act out because when I do, you and the others punish me, and I love it when you punish me."
"Fuck, that's a mood," Katie blurted out. This brought another round of chuckles and laughter, and Val had to fight really hard not to break down giggling again.
Myrrah, not wanting to have to spend another fifteen minutes bringing things back to order, cleared her throat and quickly returned to the interrogation. "And why do you love being punished, Val?"
No, god! This question was even more brutal than the last. Every time they made it admit this, it felt like pain, like agony, excrutiating, annihilating, obliterating torment that it needed so badly it ached but also desperately tried to deny itself, to protect itself from. This vulnerability was agonizing, terrifying, monstrous, please, it begged, please, I can't go through this again even though I want it, even though I need it. It was a full ten seconds before, voice shaking and tears flowing freely, it finally answered: "b-because here, oh god, oh god, because when you're p-punishing me, I h-have your full at-at-attention and I kn-kn-know I'm w-w-wanted and it's th-the only time I feel t-totally s-safe, and... and... and..." Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! "... it's the t-time I c-can m-most clearly f-feel your love for m-me!" It let out the last part as a shriek like a wounded animal, whip-tail thrashing as fire touched its soul.
Suddenly it was enveloped on all sides. The hands on its body were moving again, squeezing, fondling, caressing. Lips and tongues touched its skin, on its cheeks, its arms, its nipples. The contact was never smothering, never overwhelming, never more than it could take, but always riding the line as close as it possibly could. Its mouth opened in an uncoordinated wail, its tongue seeking something it couldn't find, until it felt Myrrah's jaws wrap around its own, their tongues met, whatever noise it was making drowned in the hyena's throat as they kissed. Its real body safe in the arms of one of its lovers and its dream body held in the arms of five, Val sweated out all its built-up poison and anguish and self-doubt until its blood ran clear again.
It wasn't sure how long they had all held each other like that. It had cried - actually, really cried. Even here in the dream, its eyes burnt. Its throat was hoarse. Its eyes had gone completely black, and its ears had sprouted into massive, nearly-circular things that sat on top of its head, rather than at the sides.
Myrrah had been crying too. "Oh fuck, fuck, Val. Color check."
Val, still tied to the cross, couldn't wrap its arms around the hyena, but it had just enough movement in its neck to press its forehead against Myrrah's. "Green, Myrrah. Green. God, thank you. Fuck. Fuck. Thank you." And then an urgent thought struck it. "Myrrah. Color check."
Myrrah let out a choked little chuckle. "Green? Yellow? I... just... give me a minute." She wrapped her arms around the bound creature even tighter. "Fuck, I love you so much."
"Don't worry, Daddy. Take as long as you need," Val replied. And then it felt the urge. It knew it would really be in for a beasting if it did, but it had been told to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth... and so, with a shit-eating grin, it did so. "... we all know not everyone can handle as much as me."
An evil gleam falshed in the hyena's eyes, and her teeth came out in a terrifying leer. "Oh, you little bitch. Okay, five minute break, everyone, and then..."
Val smiled the smile of the utterly doomed.
HypnospacePsychonaut: Okay no listen I'm being actual for real serious about thisHypnospacePsychonaut: Lucas is a cute boy I met while free associatingHypnospacePsychonaut: Some Weird Dream Shit happenedHypnospacePsychonaut: Which is the reason i was gone for a whole ass dayHypnospacePsychonaut: He has Shit Going On, and I tried to give him a little help with itHypnospacePsychonaut: I think it is safe to sayHypnospacePsychonaut: that we have all known the pain of having Shit Going OnHypnospacePsychonaut: And what happened between us happened in confidenceHypnospacePsychonaut: This is as much as (and probably more than) any of you are entitled to know on the matterHypnospacePsychonaut: And that is NOT up for discussionHypnospacePsychonaut: Do I make myself absolutely clearOphidian_Solace: Yes DaddyKnifeWretch: Yes Daddyktspace87: yes daddyJesstrogen: yes daddy
It took a bit longer than five minutes for everyone to collect themselves again. Katie had slipped her leash to go make out with Riley in a corner, and so Alex and Jessie had busied themselves pretending to get all the tools ready; it wasn't necessary in the dreamspace, but it was good to keep in the habit anyway. Eventually, though, everyone gathered around the cross again.
Myrrah raised her hand. "Do any of those assembled here believe the wretch has been sufficiently punished yet?"
Val was the first to answer, loudly declaring "no!"
There was a snort from Jessie, and a couple of chuckles from others, but five "nays" rang out nonetheless.
Myrrah raised an eyebrow. "Well, with all votes cast, the verdict is once again unanimous. The wretch's aberrant behaviour requires additional correction, a fact that it has itself freely admitted to. Seize it."
The hands on its body, once soft and comforting, became vice-like, pinning it to the cross even tighter, forcing its night-black eyes wide open. The hyena was once again a predator, violent, fleshraking teeth and drool-drenched, squirming tongue flashing animal terror into the rat's threat-seeking mind.
The nightmare creature opened its mouth, and the voice that leaked out was like train wheels sparking. "Do you have anything to say before sentence is passed, wretch?"
Its whole body trembling and helpless, Val yelled out the first thing that came to its mind. "Fuck me harder, Daddy!"
A giant, furry set of hands shot out to grasp its head, and the rat-thing came face to face with those awful eyes.
Gnashing, gnawing death spoke to Val, and it said only three words: "rats can't speak."
A cold horror gripped Val as the gift of speech was withdrawn. It opened its mouth to beg, but only aphasic, toneless warbling came out.
The predator loomed in closer to the trembling prey, holding its head tighter. "All the words you use to act like gutter-trash? Gone. All the words you use to disrespect your betters? Gone. All the words you use to make a nuisance of yourself? Gone. You have just five words left. What are those words?"
Mechanically, Val repeated the only five meaningful sounds it still had the ability to make. "Red. Yellow. Green. Pistachio. Safeword."
Gnashing, gnawing death nodded approvingly. "Good rat. When I say color check, you will say one of...?"
"Red. Yellow. Green."
"When I say color check, everything is too much and you want us to stop, you will say..."
Val shook a little. "Red."
"When I say color check, things are getting too heavy and you want us to ease off, you will say..."
"When I say color check, things are fine and you want us to keep going, you will say..."
Without a moment's hesitation, the trembling little rat cried out "green! Green! Green!"
Gnashing, gnawing death chuckled at the rat-thing's eagerness. "Good rat. Your personal safeword, which you can say at any time to make everything stop and aftercare start immediately, is...?"
"Pistachio." Val actually found it had a little trouble enunciating the word, so rarely did it use it.
"The emergency safeword, just in case you forget your regular safeword, is...?"
"Safeword." This one was as natural as breathing, clear as crystal. When Myrrah had first experiemented with taking Val's speech, it was the first safeguard she'd implanted.
Gnashing, gnawing death seemed pleased. "And so, little wretch: color check?"
It was trapped in someone else's dream in a sleep from which it could not possibly wake even if it wanted to, a misshapen half-rat half-boy half-girl thing tied to a cross and surrounded by predatory creatures its basal instincts knew would soon surely rip its flesh and feast on its delicate organs, unable to speak, unable to scream, unable to lie or deceive or plot any escape, faced with the grinning, toothy maw of death itself. Its entire being, down to the barest spark of consciousness, trembled with terror.
And yet it knew it was in the safest place it would ever be.
HypnospacePsychonaut: GoodHypnospacePsychonaut: god sorry i didn't mean to go off on oneHypnospacePsychonaut: Just need to set a clear boundary therektspace87: youre goodKnifeWretch: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push.HypnospacePsychonaut: It's okay. You're a good rat.KnifeWretch: Squeak >.<HypnospacePsychonaut: But we're going to the dungeon anywayKnifeWretch: o.o
The rat-thing had lost the ability to determine where any sensation was coming from, and in what order. Alex's finger-sized fangs were still planted deep in its shoulder, and it didn't need a nuanced, realistic bloodstream for the venom to do its work - all it needed was to believe in the snakebite, and believe it certainly did. Freed from the real, Alex could have his venom do whatever he told the rat-thing it would, and so long as the rat-thing accepted it, that's what would happen His forked tongue had whispered in the helplessly twitching ear which he clutched too-tight in one of his scaly hands, telling the wretch of the cold numbness that would flood through it before the crackling burn against every single nerve ending it touched lighting its helpless body up like a Christmas tree. He had told the wretch exactly how much it would hurt, how much it would chill, how much it would burn, and asked for a color, and it had mumbled green.
At some point they had taken it off the cross, and it was now hanging suspended from the ceiling with its arms above its head, but it couldn't remember the moment it had been unstrapped or the moment it had been hoisted. Moments no longer followed sequentially, time's train of logic broken, and so the rat-thing existed in snatches of sensation - the agony of Alex's bite, the burning discomfort of having its arms hoisted above its head, the pleasure of Myrrah's cock sliding inside of it, the sting as the points of Riley's beak touched against its navel and taint when they began licking its limp, unfeeling cock.
Good choice to let Riley suck me off, it thought, several times in a row, losing focus each time and having to rebuild the idea from the ground up, I guess birds would give the most uncomfortable blowjob.
Myrrah was like a machine. The rat-thing had absolutely no conception of how much time had passed, but it had enough wherewithall to understand that Myrrah had been inside it essentially from the moment it had been taken off the cross and hoisted up to hang from the ceiling, and that had been a long while ago. Here in the dream, though, you didn't run out of breath, your muscles only ached when you wanted them to, and if you exercised enough self-control, you could ride a wave of pleasure forever and never, ever reach orgasm. Her thrusts just kept going at their relentless, jackhammer pace, in and out of the rat-thing's ass, over and over until... until nothing. They just kept going, kept getting faster, harder, deeper, like a rollercoaster rolling down and down a hill but never reaching the bottom.
Every so often, a voice would intrude on the wretch's consciousness, saying the only words it still understood. "Color check."
Every single time, it knew it didn't want this to stop, and the way it made sure that it didn't stop was to reply "green." The rat-thing didn't even really understand that it was speaking, only that this if it made the collection of noises with its mouth, the kaleidoscope wouldn't stop turning.
A new set of fangs were buried in its neck, and there was a warm sucking sensation. Weakly, it looked at the giant, gold-ringed ears wiggling in front of its face. Katie? It felt itself growing paler, somehow, its eyes rolling back, vision going grey at the edges and heart fluttering as the bat supped from it, making delighted little moaning noises as she slowly drank the rat-thing's life from it. In an almost... sarcastic manner, she reached a winged hand down to gently stroke its still-limp, still-senseless dick. Some time passed, and then her blunt, red-smeared snout was pressing against the wretch's lips, which parted weakly to exchange tongues. The rat-thing tasted salt and copper and let out a weak, keening sigh. The bat gave it a tight, warm hug.
"Color check," she cooed, gently stroking the rat-thing's head.
The rat-thing whined as its chest erupted in thin lines of flame, impossibly dense sensation whittled down to five razor-sharp points that sliced apart layers of skin as they drove across it. Each line of cuts started in a different place, raking up and down, left to right, at every possible angle. Through heavy-lidded eyes, it saw a look of fierce delight plastered across a mostly-human face crowned with twitching, tawny ears as she raked her catlike claws across the wretch's stomach. Seeing that her victim was watching her handiwork, she purred softly, and those two words came out again.
As she chirped "color check," Jessie lifted both her hands off of the wretch.
Jessie gave a very cat-like smile, and went back to work. The rat-thing only later realised she was playing tic-tac-toe on its chest.
HypnospacePsychonaut: If the trigger phrases are no longer a useful threatHypnospacePsychonaut: Clearly we need some better tools to keep you disciplined ValHypnospacePsychonaut: Who wants to help me do some brat taming >:3ktspace87: oh im inJesstrogen: me me me me i want inOphidian_Solace: Oh, absolutely.ZeroBird: lmao of course I would miss this whole conversation but get here just in time to torture ValKnifeWretch: Hahaha! I'm in danger x.x
Valor Neige woke, not with a start like it used to, but gently. Checking the clock on the bedside table, it was about 5 in the morning. It and Myrrah had turned in pretty early; mostly so they could spend as much time as possible with the Euro people, but also because the kind of sleep you got when you were in the Mind Dungeon was not precisely restful, and so you usually needed to sleep off whatever you'd been dreaming about afterwards. All in all, they had both gotten about twelve hours of sleep. It was difficult to keep track of exactly how time spent in dreamspaces equated to real time, since Myrrah had never managed to get clocks or watches working reliably, but they must've spent at least six hours down there.
With well-practiced tenderness, it gently disentangled itself from its lover's arms, taking great care not to do anything too fast or with too much force. Unentwined at last, Val had gotten halfway to a seated position when a firm hand grasped its shoulder. With a yelp, it was pulled back into a tight embrace.
"Hey," Myrrah whispered, "morning, nightlight."
The pet-name sent a shiver down Valor's spine, and it melted back into its lover's strong arms, feeling the gentle rhythm of her breathing against its back.
"I wasn't sure if you were awake," it mumbled. "Didn't wanna pitch anyone you were still hosting into the Void."
Myrrah gently brushed some of Valor's hair out of its face. "Aw, you're always so considerate! Nah, they all left hours ago. After the scene was over, I told them to go get some actual goddamn sleep, but I'm pretty sure Katie and Riley snuck off to a beach or a spaceship somewhere to fuck like rabbits."
Val snorted. "Christ, can you even imagine what it's gonna be like when they finally meet in person? We're gonna need a pressure washer to get it off the walls."
"The Unstoppable California thirst queen meets the Immovable German strap god," Myrrah joked with a smile, "one for the philosophers." She slipped a finger underneath the ring around Valor's neck and tugged, just gently enough to pull its ear close to her mouth. "You were very good last night, Val. I mean it. You were such a good rat for us."
Every tense muscle in Val's body slackened at the trigger phrase, its eyes rolled back and it let out a dull, soft squeak, leaving it all but immobile in Myrrah's arms.
With a shivery breath, Val replied with the only thought it could form. "Th-thank you, Mistress..."
Myrrah gave an approving rumble. "You were such a good rat," - there it was again, that trigger phrase shooting pure, liquid submission through Val's veins - "that I think you deserve a nice, big reward."
The only thing Val could do, its body rendered servile to its mistress by praise and deeply-ingrained post-hypnotic suggestion, was whine softly in anticipation.
Myrrah grasped the wretch's insensate crotch and squeezed tightly, before letting go and taking Val's numb, distant shaft between her fingers, rolling it around. "I'm passing the light over your cock, over your cock, over your cock... and you can use it again."
Suddenly the dull, empty void between its legs roared back into sensation, and in just seconds its cock was fully erect and throbbing in its mistress' hand. The sensations overwhelmed its self-control, and it immediately began thrusting into her palm with a series of adorable whimpers, which earned it a gentle bite on the one part of its ear that didn't have metal in it.
"No, nightlight," Myrrah chided, "this is a reward for good behavior. You don't get to cum. You get to be made to cum, by me. Hips still. No thrusting."
With a whimper, the wretch tried to bring its breathing and the jerking of its hips under control, fighting its own basic impulses for a good twenty seconds. Immediately, Myrrah's hands clutched tight around its shaft and began jerking with sharp, deep strokes that made Val bite down hard on their lip hard enough to draw blood. Myrrah had four years of practice at this point: she knew exactly where to grasp, exactly how to stroke, exactly what to rub to drive her pet wild. And it wasn't just its cock - Myrrah had spent a long time cataloguing every single way she could make Val squirm and moan - biting its neck, pinching its nipples, the knee pressed firmly between its legs and up into its taint, warm tongue tracing the curve of its jaw, free hand squeezing its breast hard enough to make it cry out. And the words. The words in its ear.
"Such a good rat you were," its lover, its mistress, its goddess growled, "such a good rat surrendering yourself so completely, spilling all those things you think are secrets over and over again because you gave up the power to hide them, such a good rat letting all those predators feast on you over and over and over, poison flooding through your veins, sharp talons raking your body, your meat in their mouths, your blood in their mouths, whining and tilting your head to let them take more..."
"Such a good rat, taking Alex and Jessie and your mistress inside of you, obliging them over and over and grunting, moaning, begging for more until your body is swollen and glowing with new life..."
"Such a good rat, just letting me crack that poor, helpless little brain open and tie strings to every little thought and feeling I want to pull on..."
"Little good rat cumdumpster fucktoy painslut mindpuppet..."
Myrrah could feel her pet's body tensing up, rapidly approaching the edge of climax, and so she leaned in very close to the poor, overstimulated toy's ear and whispered "color check."
The reply was a riotous, unrestrained howl of "GREEN! GREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGREENGR-GR-GR-GR-"
Myrrah gave her pet's ear one more gentle nip, and then whispered "then cum for me, nightlight."
Val's entire being exploded into bliss. Its whole body twitched violently, trying to curl in on itself as a fiery wave of ecstasy rolled outwards from its groin, down its legs, up its spine, with a pressure that felt like it was trying to burst outwards through its skin. Despite the prohibition, its hips bucked wildly into its mistress' grasp, riding out burst after burst of pleasure that seemed to build higher and higher, one after the other. At some point it had begun to scream, and so mistress had tilted its head and swallowed its cries. Locked in a tight embrace, kissing the love of its life, Valor Neige rode out the mind-shattering high of its first orgasm in 46 days.
By the time Val's fires had burned low and it was able to process meaningful thoughts again, ten or so minutes must have passed. Myrrah had shifted both of them on the bed so that they were lying facing one another; she had broken the kiss and was just gazing lovingly at her pet.
Val blushed sharply, burying its head underneath the crook of its mistress' chin. "Thank you. God, thank you, mistress."
Myrrah sighed happily, kissing Val on the forehead. "I love you awake and asleep, nightlight."
There was a slick, slimy sensation as something moved between them. With a look of deep chagrin, Myrrah pulled her hand out from under the covers, absolutely dripping.
"Oh! When Riley and Katie meet up in the real world," Myrrah grumbled, in an intentionally poor approximation of Val's voice, "we'll need a pressure washer to get it off the walls! Says the rat who cums like a fucking firehose!"
Val grinned sheepishly. "I'll... go get some clean sheets."
AlternianDidact: Hey. I wanted to say sorry for dashing off last time. I just had a lot to think about.HypnospacePsychonaut: Lucas! hey no probs buddy, i know shit can be tough to work through sometimesHypnospacePsychonaut: honestly i'm just glad you're okay! I was a little worried.AlternianDidact: No, I'm good, or at least as good as I usually get. Get up to anything fun last night?HypnospacePsychonaut is typing......HypnospacePsychonaut is typing......
HypnospacePsychonaut: oh, you know
HypnospacePsychonaut: nothing unusual