Story is based on a recurring fantasy I’ve been having. Any comments/notes/ideas welcome <3 Note as the title says, this is a WIP, not very polished, but hopefully there are enough ideas here that you can see where I’m going with this.
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I’ve been magically kidnapped by two young nymphs to their colony in the wilderness. These nymphs require semen to survive the way vampires require blood, so each pair of lover nymphs is assigned a boy by the high priestess, for them to regularly milk as they please.
Now, I’m bigger than these two girls, and if it were just the three of us I could take them out and make my escape, but in addition to a milk-boy, each pair is also assigned a body guard. Their guard’s named Serge and he’s younger than me too, but lean and muscular and good at wrestling. He does the girls’ bidding and his instructions are to enforce my discipline.
The girls want a good load from me each time they milk me, as their life depends on it, and they only milk me once every week or two to get a good build-up, so they keep me in a chastity belt between milkings. The only time they release me other than that is for regular tease sessions, so that I produce even more when the time comes.
For these, I’m restrained on my back in my bed. One of the girls is in a 69 position on top of me with her arms hooked under my thighs for stability, teasing my shaft, while the other is prone between my legs, nibbling my scrotum. They giggle and coo as I wiggle around, loving the challenge of controlling me as I buck, but they expertly ensure not even a drop of precum is lost. Then, with me red-faced and begging, they apply ice packs to the area until I shrivel back up, and — “nope, back in the cage you go. You’re just gonna have to be a little patient” and then the one on top of me condescendingly pecks me on the cheek before releasing my binds.
They keep me busy between milkings too, forcing me to go to school with the other milking boys from other households. I have to wear a ridiculous school uniform, complete with white collared shirt, vest and tie, which they think is adorable. I get assigned homework and Serge sits with me in my room to ensure I do it, while the girls cuddle on the couch in the living room and watch tv. They can hear me struggling out loud with math in my room and smirk about it.
When I misbehave, like talk back, late on my homework, or get so horny that I try to pick my chastity belt, I get a strike and some corner time, or have to give the girls back or foot massages until my hands cramp, or perform anulingus on them. If the girls allow, sometimes I can work off strikes by doing chores.
Three strikes earns me a spanking with Serge.
When he comes home with his paddle, my heats sinks, and I know I’m in for a long dark night. The fear overrides my pride and with a lump in my throat, I beg the girls if they could please just give me one more chance and I swear I’ll never do it again, but Serge grimly guides me to my room. He shuts the door so he can deal with me in privacy, but the girls can still hear the spanks and cries through the walls. Afterward I have to write an apology letter and go out to them and stand there, shaking like a leaf, reading it with tears streaming down my face. I’m barely intelligible from terror, for Serge warned me that if they don’t accept the apology then I’m coming right back for round 2 and a second draft of the letter.
Mercifully they always accept the apology, seeing how remorseful I am, and they invite me to cuddle with them on the couch to soothe me until I calm down.
Anyway, a rule of this world I haven’t mentioned — If they don’t get semen from their assigned boy by at least the third week from the previous milking, then he is magically set free, they don’t get a new one, and slowly starve.
So it happened that for the first time since I’ve been kidnapped, they get greedy for an *extra* big load from me so they let my milking lapse on the second week and now we’re approaching the third. I’ve had a whole extra week of tease sessions and my balls feel like they’re about to explode. When I get an erection in my cage now it’s painful.
But I also know that if I can somehow just withstand their extraction methods this one time — if I can just deny them my cum tonight — then I can end this. My plan is to use kegels to squeeze as hard as I can while they’re blowing me this time to give them a dry orgasm, and then I’m home free.
Well, unfortunately they’re wise to this plan and not taking any chances, so unbeknownst to me, they decide to take preemptive measures:
The night of, the girls and Serge escort me in just my boxers to the “ceremony room” where we always go. The way the ceremony has always worked is, I’m tied down on my back on a bed just like for our tease sessions, with the only difference being of course that this time they let me pop.
I know this is their last chance to get my cum and I’ve been exercising my kegels all day in preparation. “I’m going home. I’m going home. I’m going home.”
We cross the threshold into the room and I see the ceremonial bed, which has always been in the center, has been pushed into the corner, and in its place there is now what appears to be a padded massage table, complete with donut face-rest attachment and mean looking straps all around.
I hear the door gently click shut behind me, and it’s at this point the girls explain that they know what I’m liable to do and they have no intention of taking that risk, so what we’re going to do is have Serge obstruct the muscles necessary to have a dry O. I am to lie face down on the table with my dick through the hole and have Serge be inserted into me as the girls take their prize from underneath. It’s a milking table.
This is the last straw. I cross my arms and tell them they can go fuck themselves; I’m not doing it, but my voice cracks and I’m already on the verge of tears. They only have two hours to midnight. C’mon, I just need to stall. Just two measly hours. The girls walk past me saying “we’ll just see about that”, and go prop themselves comfortably on the bed in the corner to watch what happens next.
At this point, Serge strips off his shirt, shoes and socks, so now he’s clad in just grey sweatpants, and gently pats the soft pad of the table — “cmon buddy, let’s get this over with”
“I said NO” I blurt out and shove past him to the door — I’ll just run. But that’s a no-go. The door won’t budge, even when I prop my foot up on the door frame for leverage and put my back into pulling the handle.
Behind me, Serge is busy lowering the table using its hydraulic legs. When it reaches the floor, he calmly walks over and bear hug-carries me over to it. He wrestles me kicking and screaming face down onto the table, straddles my back, and snaps this thick padded restraint around my waist, pulling it taut, quick as a wink. Then while still sitting on my ass, presses a button and the hydraulics start going back up.
The girls have been watching from the bed fascinated. They’re never more turned on than seeing me getting absolutely mastered by Serge. But now they get up and assist with the rest of the restraints. Two pairs of cuffs; one pair for my thighs just above the knee, the other for my ankles. One of the girls can’t resist and tickles my feet a little with her sharp nails. I involuntarily shriek more girly than I would’ve hoped and jerk my feet as much as possible, which is almost not at all, and pound my fists into the table padding to cope. My feet are extremely ticklish and if she wanted to, this could easily become actual torture for me. But she stops after a few seconds and with a satisfied tone says “well looks like the restraints work”. I bitterly call her a bitch, knowing how pathetic that sounds coming from me in this predicament.
The other girl has gone around to the front, and with Serge forcing my face into the donut attachment, loops one restraint around my neck and another around the back of my head. I try to budge, but my face is now firmly set in the heavily padded donut. From my position, I’m forced to look down through it at her and Serge’s feet.
She leans down and twists her head up to look at me through the face hole and with a smirk asks me how I’m doing and I say “fuck you”. Somewhere behind me, the other nymph is “walking” her fingers up my back. The only part of me not immobile yet are my arms and I pathetically try to swing back to swat her away. I can feel her smile sadistically. This reminds them to lastly cuff my hands underneath my face, and just like that, the patient is ready.
One final step: They explain to me that they’re going to give me a little something to relax and help with the procedure. “Before we begin we’re going to use this little enema bulb here to flood your cute little tushy with the serum of our native Harmony bush”. The local vegetation in this realm includes the so called bush of Harmony which produces a milky white substance with narcotic effects similar to heroine. It also makes a fantastic natural lubricant. I then hear a liquid burble somewhere behind me.
Up until this point, I’ve been so mentally exhausted and bewildered that I’ve almost forgotten why we’re here. Well that sound, and the inexorable fate that’s before me, snap me back to reality and now I really lose it. I yell and buck but right then Serge once again sits on the back of my legs, and the girls both straddle my back. Serge uses a pair of medical scissors and makes quick work of my boxers. My caged dick plops out and swings down freely through the glory hole, and now my naked ass is exposed to the three of them as if they’re surgeons about to operate.
The girl on my back closest to my ass spreads my cheeks apart and Serge recommends to me that I hold my breath for a moment. Begrudgingly, I do. He slides in the narrow rubber of the enema bulb and squirts, and I can feel the warm liquid spread into my bowels.
The effect of the Harmony serum is almost immediate and when I exhale, my mind begins to cloud in euphoria, my fists unclench, my body relaxes, and a warm irrational contentment washes over me. The girls climb off my back and one comes over to my face to see my eyelids drooping and mouth slightly agape. She slowly kisses me on the forehead, which feels amazing, and whispers “good boy”.
Then she stands and with a smile proclaims “I think we’re ready”.
The lights are dimmed down low and the girls go around lighting the ceremonial candles. Then from somewhere behind me, I hear Serge stripping off his sweatpants, and through my hole I see them silently sail across the room to the corner with his shoes and socks landing with a soft thud, and his boxers quickly follow suit.
I know that I should be terrified but for the life of me I can’t bring myself to feel the emotion.
There are hushed whispers behind me as my captors pow wow, and I can do naught but lie there with my muscles *completely* disengaged at this point. I can feel the full weight of every point of contact of my body with the sturdy padding of the table. The dim room with faint flickering of the candles accentuate my relaxation.
Then suddenly back by my legs, I feel the cushioning of the table give as Serge climbs back on. He whispers “ok buddy, I gotch’you”. The moment has come and in my stupor I again remember what he’s about to do. I feel him on the table, on his knees between my tethered legs, inching towards my ass and I whine. He says “shh shh shh shh, hey none of that” and gently rubs the back of my legs up my hamstrings reassuringly.
Then he’s at my ass and repositions to straddle my legs just below it. I feel the padding by my right shoulder give as he props his right arm there for support, a moment after I feel the girth of his cock sliding up and down my crack, searching for the opening. I whine even more and try my hardest to form words, but it’s impossible. The head of his cock finally makes contact with my anus, and he steadies himself before giving a little push. Then a little more. On the second push, I muster the strength to try and lift my right arm a bit, but forgot it was cuffed to the other so neither ended up making it far.
On the third shove his head went in and I let out a long groan, my hands coming up to hook into the donut. His left hand hand goes up and down my back to soothe me and says “allllmost there” in a labored whisper. Then he heaves forward and the lubricant does its job. He slides in the rest of the way and under the narcosis, the sensation was both in my body and not. My entire body shakes in tremors underneath his weight, and the foreign object that is now securely lodged up my ass. His body is now flush with mine and he rubs my neck and tells me how well I did.
After what seems like a few minutes. The girls come around to see how I’m doing. I feel absolutely defeated.
In a final coup de grace, one of the girls drapes a thin bedsheet over the both of us and the sudden intimacy of both of us under a sheet like this now is deeply humiliating. However, what’s undeniable is that after 3 weeks of teasing with no orgasm, and no human contact besides that, now being here with Serge’s full weight on top of me; his feet on mine, the weight of his legs on mine, his abs and chest on my back, and his cock pressing perfectly on my engorged prostate… I secretly feel completely at home and taken care of and I fucking hate myself for it. Fucking sick. I try my best to not like it.
Both girls get in front of my face once again, so I can see them through the donut from just about their chest and down, and strip to their bras and panties. They’re wearing matching black and suddenly my caged cock down below wakes up a little.
“And for doing such a good job, we’re going to reward you”
Though the lubricating effects of the Harmony serum last for hours, the natural narcotic effects are actually quite short-lived, and now I can slowly feel myself coming out of it.
The girls lift the sheet draping over the sides of the table and crawl underneath, out of view.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/q8kgl6/me_serge_and_the_two_nymphs_wip