The Serpent Teased (Story) (Patreon)

She screamed again, the sound long, lingering, almost musical in the way it rose. With her scream rose the notes of her plight. Desperation, passion, resentment, the barest hints of sobbing. Orochi brought her gaze down at the device between her legs, still spinning at its maddening pace. She had hoped against hope for some small mercy that would have broken the machine, yet still it spun. It was simple enough in its construction, a wheel outfitted with a surface of soft, unyielding feathers, and it was its simplicity that made it so dangerous.

An unwilling sob cut through her moans as she tried to squeeze her legs together, but the binds around her ankles would not let her protect herself. The last shocks of her orgasm began to fade. <i>Oh gods, no, no, no, <b>no!</b></i> Orochi threw her head back, wailing as the hypersensitivity transformed the slow ache of the feather into a sharp, steady thrum that sent white-hot shocks chasing after the last quakes of her climax. She leaned herself back, as far as she could go, but the very tips of those merciless feathers could still reach her clit. She shut her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to control her shivering, gasping breaths.

However small, it was still a respite, one she welcomed after gods know how long she had already lasted.

“P-plehease…” She was able to let the words out in a long, shuddering exhale. 

Orochi knew exactly why she was here, but who could have made such a setup happen? Not everyone had taken too kindly to all of her pranks, sure, but who could she have pushed to such an extreme? The worst was not that no one could come to mind, but the opposite. Too many faces flashed in front of her, flushed with anger and irritation. She could see how her pale skin had reddened on her bared breasts and thighs. No doubt her own face was a study in that color by now.

She clenched and unclenched her fingers, twisting her hands in her binds. There was purpose at first, when the treatment had just started. Her twisting was dexterous, born from years of training, now it was a mad scramble at the binds that anchored her arms to the floor behind her. The silk rope was a warm kiss against her wrists; she should at least be thankful for that small comfort, but it was hard to weigh her emotions more clearly in such a predicament.

Her eyes widened as her hips sank to the floor, returning her body to her previous positioning. Thankfully, the worst of her sensitivity had gone, so at least the feather’s brushing was not quite as painful as before. Instead, she was faced with an entirely different problem.

Orochi shut her eyes again as the gliding warmth of the spinning feathers filled her every sense. She could feel the nectar dripping between her lips, drenching the floor beneath her, but the moisture did nothing to soften or slow the presence of the feathers. If anything, it made the touch all the more maddening, as she could feel every vane cling briefly to the under-surface of her clit in the brushing path upward.

The feathers were wide enough to glide further between her lips as well. The maddening stiffness, unrelenting in its course, and somehow teasing enough in its caress, pressed between her petals. She pressed her lips together, shook her head from side to side, dug her nails into her palms, kicked her heels against the floor, but it was all to no avail. She knew this dance. All it had taken was a few minutes to become intimately attuned to it.

Orochi’s lips parted again, her tongue emerging as her moans rose in a weak, breathless rhythm. 

“Ple… ple….” She couldn’t even form the words. Perhaps worst of all, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to. There was a little voice in the back of her mind, one that rose a little too clearly and made a little too much sense to her.

<i>You’ve already been struggling so much… has it helped? What option for escape is there that you actually haven’t already explored?</i>

Another little sob choked in the back of her throat, the sound quickly dissolving into a moan.

<i>Why not enjoy it? It’s not like you had a hard time with that last one… or the one before that… or the one before that…</i>

Her fists were wound so hard her knuckles stood white against her already pale skin.

<i>What’s left to fight against? I think a part of you already likes it…</i>

The truth in those words is what scared her the most. Her juices flowed sweet and heavy between her legs, and not just from the stimulation itself. Bound against her will, made to scream, beg, squirm… How many times had she already found that sweet release? The wheel never picked up speed, it never changed pattern, and yet Orochi somehow found the sensations more intense. Soon, her hips were moving on their own, and there was little she could do to stifle her motions, even if she wanted to. Orochi had tried to stop herself before, determined not to give the imagined onlooker in her empty room any satisfaction in her unwilling climax, but was the point? Who was left to witness her bitterly cling to her pride? Certainly not her.

<i>Ohh… another one’s coming…</i>

She clenched her teeth. Her hips were rocking back and forth, leaning against the feathers in time with the turns as much as she could with what little movement she was given. The others she had tried to resist, almost building their intensity by trying to stave them off as well as she could. This one caught her entirely by surprise, the liquid hot climax an inundation compared to the crumbling feeling of the others. Her scream filled the room, her shoulders shifting with her bondage, but all the same, she could do little to wipe the dazed smile off her face as she leaned back again to prepare for the next.