A Much Needed Break

Damn but he'd been looking forward to a hot bath. "Yes, Mistress."

Bridgette pulled his braid and guided him into a gentle kiss. "Good boy. Wash."

He took a few deep breaths, steeled himself, and slid into the icy water. It was always easier if he got it over with quick, but the sudden shock of cold stole his breath away all the same. He sat there for a minute, breathing deep even as his teeth started to chatter. As soon as he got his hands working, he took the bar of soap that Bridgette offered him.

Since temperature regulation had become a matter of public health, Garrett had done some experimenting with the cold. Then, after some cajoling and reassuring that he would be fine damnit, he'd convinced Arlon and Bridgette to experiment with him. The end result had been a spell that had quashed the crown prince's fever while simultaneously introducing all three of them to a new type of play to add to their casting books.

"How's the water?" Bri teased even as she took his hands and slid a focus down every finger. They sparked as they touched his skin, but his fingers were already too numb to feel it. He bathed as quickly and as he could, but Bri tsked when he went to pull himself out. "Wash your hair, too."

Garrett let out a quiet noise of protest, even though he knew there was no fighting her on it. The decision wasn't up to him tonight. He shivered, teeth chattering, but he did as told. He pulled the tie from the end of his braid before dunking his head under, the cold hitting him like a physical blow. He didn't so much wash it as he wet it thoroughly before he resurfaced with a gasp. Shaking, he pulled himself from the frigid water.

Bridette came up behind him, and her fingers felt hot enough to scald as she raked them through his wet hair. Garrett moved to kneel automatically as she started combing the long, brown locks. Orc hair grew long and thick and strong, but it took forever to get there. 78 years, and it was barely to his hips. He'd never cut it, and never would, if given the choice. It had been a fight to even let Bri trim the ends, but he had to concede that it kept it all healthy. Now, she was gentle as she ran her oiled fingers through the thick hair to keep it soft before twisting it into a long plait down his back.

Even though the baths were hot with steam, he shivered under her hands, losing himself to her touch. It took him a long moment to realize she had finished. He forced his eyes open and found her at the sink, yet when he realized what she was doing, he let out a low moan. She returned a moment later with a filled waterskin and a small wooden funnel.

"Bottoms up, love," she said with a smirk.

At least she was getting some satisfaction from his misery. He moaned as he knelt on his front and lifted his ass up, burying his face against his arm. This was never his favorite part of the spell, but it was effective at dropping at his core temperature. During their trial and error, he'd told them to use water straight from the ice pool, but it had caused his stomach to cramp so badly he'd had to stop. They'd learned a lot since that first botched attempt, though it never got easier to submit to.

Bridgette slicked the tip of the wooden funnel before sliding it into him. She held the waterskin tight around the other end, and when she squeezed the bag, the water flowed into him. It was a strange, creeping sort of cold instead of the sharp jolt of the bath. It made him shiver all the same.

His stomach cramped a little, though the water was just chilly instead of unbearable, and it warmed as Bri continued to fill him. He groaned and clenched his fists even as he relaxed his stomach. The water settled like a weight, filling him until he felt fit to bursting.

"Mistress." His voice came out in a quiet whimper.

Bridgette hushed him gently. "Almost done."

Finally, she pulled the little funnel from him. Garrett stayed crouched, his face firmly buried against his arm. "May I please get up, Mistress?"

"Yes, you may. Go clean up."

Garrett shuffled over to the lavatory and released the water, shivering with humiliation and cold. Enemas had been used medicinally for centuries, yet he still felt a hot stab of shame every time he was subjected to one at the hands of his wife. But Bridgette liked him clean, and he'd never been good at saying no to her.

As soon as he was finished, he went back into the baths and sunk to his knees in front of her, eyes lowered. He could almost feel the heat of her gaze boring into his shivering body. Her hand wrapped around his braid to pull his head up, her other hand cupping his cheek. Her skin felt hot, and he leaned into her touch on instinct.

"Too cold?" she asked.

Garrett shook his head. They'd dropped his core temperature too low the second time they'd tried this spell, and he'd needed a warm enema, a hot fire and a pile of blankets to get his pulse to strengthen and his shivering to stop. It had taken some convincing to have them try it a third time, but he'd managed. "It's fine Mistress, thank you."

Bridgette smiled and pressed her lips against his. It sent a jolt through him, like the touch of a hot brand, except he had no urge to pull away. He returned the kiss, shivering even harder.

When she pulled back, her thumb stroked his cheek. "We'll take care of you tonight," she promised. Then she grabbed his braid and coaxed him to his feet. He stood, his whole body feeling leaden and heavy from the cold. His thoughts had slowed to a crawl as that familiar sense of calm washed over him. They knew what he needed, and he was happy to surrender to them.

Bridette led him out of the baths, and though he knew where they were going, he didn't quite register the trip. When he blinked again, they were in the dungeon. Bridgette pushed him to his knees before she turned the globes up high, sending light into every corner of the large room.

Garrett's shivering only got worse in the cold room. He kept his eyes lowered, body curled in on himself to try and warm up. A moment later, they heard Alron's heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Let me guess," Arlon said, his voice suddenly very close. "He wanted to work tonight?"

"Shocker, right?" Bridgette teased.

Something cold and wet dripped onto Garrett's shoulder. "Can never leave work behind, can you?" Arlon asked. It was awfully ironic, coming from him, but Garrett doubted he'd be able to say as much around his chattering teeth.

"I had a feeling you'd bring your work here, so I made something for you," Arlon said and held out the wet parcel for Garrett to see. He pulled the cloth back to reveal a thick, clear phallus that dripped as it melted.

Garrett's eyes went wide as a shudder wracked his body. Arlon looked pleased. He held the phallus out to him. "I carved you a mold myself. Filled it with water and set it out this afternoon. Good thing it's been so godsdamned cold out or else this never would have frozen." Arlon pushed the tip of it against his lips. "Why don't you give it a taste."

Garrett whimpered at the cold, but knew it would only get worse. Even so, he obediently opened his mouth. The shock of cold made him grunt all the same, and it was a fight not to recoil. It numbed his tongue and lips as Arlon fucked his mouth shallowly. His tusks scraped across the underside, and it took everything in him not to pull away.

Thankfully, Arlon didn't keep him at it for long. He pulled the rod free and Garrett gasped, water and spit dripping from his frozen lips. "You know, when I told Bri what I was making, she didn't think you'd be able to handle it, so we made a little wager on how long you'll last with this inside of you," Arlon said with a grin. "Lets see if you can win me a little money tonight."

Garrett shuddered hard, a miserable little sound escaping him. They'd used ice in the past, but never quite like this. He had a feeling Bridgette might be right - he was already so cold, and the thought of that thing inside of him made me quiver. The focuses around his fingers sparked as he moved to his hands and knees and lifted his ass.

Arlon nudged his knees apart. "Show me where you want me to put this," he ordered. Garrett shivered even as he reached back to grab the mounds of his ass, exposing his hole. A drop of cold lotion landed on his entrance before Arlon's finger pushed him into.

The warmth of his touch made Garrett moan in relief and he arched his back, face resting against the cold stone. Arlon was quick about it, spreading him and slicking him, and Garrett couldn't stop a quiet whimper when he pulled away. Then the cold tip of the phallus pressed against the pucker of his ass, and he couldn't stop a yelp.

Bridgette chuckled.

"Relax," Arlon ordered.

Garrett focused on his breath and forced his muscles to relax as the cold tip slid into him. He groaned, burying his face against the stone as it slid a little deeper. He shivered hard, the cold near unbearable. Every frozen inch that entered him was a test of his endurance.

Arlon started to fuck him shallowly with the unyielding rod, moving it deeper with every thrust. It started to feel good in a distant sort of way, but the cold numbed him, turning the glide of the phallus into a torment. Garrett clenched his teeth, hands pulled to fists as the cold pierced him to his core. "Master," he groaned. "Please."

But Arlon knew his body just as well as his wife did, and he knew how much he could take. The phallus angled just so, hitting his prostate. Garrett wailed, his cock jumping inside of the cage. His fingers dug into his skin, and it took all of his self control to stay still and take it. The cold was overwhelming, and it turned sharp as Arlon fucked him deeper.

"Master please! No more," he begged.

Arlon seated the phallus deep before his warmth pressed against Garrett's back, keeping him pinned even as he vainly tried to pull himself out from under the other man's weight. Garrett threw his head back with a tormented wail as Arlon twisted the phallus inside of him.

Pain and pleasure collided in him, breaking him between them. It took only minutes to reduce him to begging, though to Garrett, it felt like a lifetime. Desperate pleas fell from his lips, but Arlon gave a few more deep thrusts before he finally pulled the ice out of him.

Garrett sobbed with gratitude and went limp under him. His head spun, and he shivered so hard that he felt like he might come apart at the seams. Then Arlon's warm embrace wrapped tight around him, pulling him to kneel. "Good boy," he praised. "So very good."

Bridgette appeared in front of him, straddling his legs as she pressed her warmth against his chest. She took his hands and kissed them each before plucking the glowing focuses from around his fingers. His numb fingers hadn't even felt them charge. "Have you had enough work for tonight?"

Garrett's teeth chattered too hard for him to answer, so he just nodded and buried his face against her neck. Arlon's chuckle rumbled against his back. "We'll warm you back up."

Arms tightened around Garrett from behind, hot enough that it made his chilled skin ripple. Warm lips pressed against his neck like a brand. Bridgette took his hands and slid them under her shirt. She flinched at his cold touch, but she didn't allow him to recoil, her grip strong around his wrists.

Instead, she guided his hands around the mounds of her breasts and arched into his touch with a little sigh of pleasure. Garrett kneaded the soft, warm flesh until the feeling returned to his fingers. Then he continued simply because Bridgette allowed him to, though she claimed his lips as her payment. She plundered his mouth, sucking and nipping at his trembling lips.

His cold-chilled nerves came alight under their attentions. He arched as Arlon bit down on the skin of his neck, marking him, claiming him. As he threw his head back, Bridgette's mouth found his exposed throat, her tongue tasting his skin.

Between them, he began to thaw. Their warmth leeched the cold out of him, and though he shivered, it was for an entirely different reason. The cage started to feel tight again, and his cock ached in the tight confines. A hand reached down to toy with his trapped balls, and his hips bucked entirely without his permission. He moaned, helpless between them.

Gods damn, but it had been a long two months.

Behind him, Arlon tsked and grabbed his arms. He pulled them behind his back sharply. "You're nowhere near done for tonight, love."

Metal cuffs closed over his arms, just above his elbows before a sturdy metal pole connected them. Garrett arched his chest to accommodate the strain on his shoulders, feeling the cold bar against his back. He spent so much of his day hunching - over sick beds, over patients - that being forced to bend the opposite direction felt like one big stretch.

"No, Master." They were just getting started. He had a month to make up to them, after all.

Bridgette pulled away, and Arlon yanked him to his feet. His legs had melted to puddles at some point in time, but he wasn't on them long. Arlon grabbed the bar between his arms and used it to maneuver him to the large bed.

Garrett landed on his front, his ass hanging off the edge of the side. Arlon's hand forced his face into the covers as his weight pressed against his back. His legs were kicked apart and Garrett could feel Arlons' erection through the fabric of his trousers like a promise.

A strong hand grabbed his braid and yanked his head back. He shouted more out of surprise than pain, though his scalp started to ache as Arlon held him there. The grandmaster leaned down, lips barely brushing his ear. "You've been so negligent these past months," Arlon murmured. "Do you know how many times your wife has been up to visit with you working these long hours?"

Garrett had been there for two visits, and knew for certain of 10 more. Bridgette liked to tell him about it when she was taking him with her favorite phallus and harness. She'd whisper it into his ear. Tell him all the things they had done to each other while his useless cock was locked away in that cage.

Then there were the times Garrett had sent a runner to let her know he had to sleep over at the clinic. He was sure she went then, too. She didn't like to sleep alone.

A hand clamped over his mouth, and Arlon answered for him. "Too many."

It was an accusation, but Garrett growled against his hand. What else was he supposed to do? When the bad cases looked like they were a cough away from falling into Quietus, he had to stay. If there was any spell on his necklace that could help, he had to try.

Arlon breath sighed his neck before he pressed a soft kiss against his skin. "I know it can't be helped," he murmured. "But you have to take care of yourself too. You're not expendable either."

The fight went out of Garrett with a quiet groan. He knew Arlon was right, but translating a good idea into action was hard. There was always one more thing he should do, one one person to check on. Arlon seemed to read his mind. "But since you can't seem to manage that, we'll take care of you."

Arlon's hand lifted from over his mouth. The shiver that racked Garrett's body felt like gratitude. "Thank you, Master."

"However," Arlon said. "I think you owe your wife a proper apology."

Garrett's breath sounded loud in his own ears. "Yes, Master." He watched as Bridgette crawled onto the bed, her clothes gone. Seeing her naked never failed to send a jolt of lust through him, but after two long months, Garrett strained against the cuffs, desperate to get to her.

Arlon chuckled. "Your husband's missed you, Bri."

Bridgette smirked as she crawled towards them, her silver hair flowing over her shoulders. Her soft hand cupped his cheek before she barely brushed his lips in a kiss. "Did you now?"

Garret whimpered. "Yes, Mistress."

She hummed, unconvinced. "Make me believe it."

Garrett's pulse roared in his ears. "Yes, Mistress."

Bridgette laid on the bed in front of him and spread her legs invitingly, a finger trailing down between her wet folds. The hand on his braid let go, and Garrett followed her finger with his tongue. She angled her hips to meet him even as she took control of his braid to guide him. Wherever she directed him, he worshipped, pulling her petals into his mouth, gently nibbling them with teeth and tusk.

Bridgette's moans were music, and he felt a bit of a thrill to know that he had been missed, too. Arlon's tongue could get the job done, but he'd been the one to split his for his corpimancy mastery. The two forks could move independent of each other, and he'd use it to undo both of them more than once. Now, he used it to tease around the hood of her clit.

Bridgette cried out and held his head there as her hips rocked and twitched. Then, Garrett felt his legs pushed further apart. Cold lotion slicked his hole, and he gasped between Bridgette's thighs, only to have her force his head down, smothering him to silence.

Arlon's cock teased him for a moment, the tip just entering him. The grip on his arm bar tightened, and Garrett whimpered, feeling lightheaded between Bridgette's legs. She let him up for just a moment, and Arlon used the opportunity to sink into him, forcing Garrett's breath back out on a cry of bliss.

Garrett had warmed up, but Arlon's his cock still felt large and hot sheathed in his body. Bridgette didn't give him a chance to recover before she pulled his head down again. Gods, this was what he had craved. When he was between them, he could lose himself. Let go of the titles, the rumors. He only existed as the object of their pleasure, and the role was a relief to fill.

Alron started to fuck him, slow at first, rolling his hips to push his length deep. It wrung a low moan made out of the man, and Garrett shivered as his eyes slid closed. Bridgette's sweet taste filled his mouth, and he felt her thighs tighten around his head as she cried out in pleasure. Garrett's tongue massaged her rippling walls as she ground her slit against his face, wringing every last second out of her orgasm.

She slumped under him, and released his head enough to give him a wordless pat for a job well done. Garrett nuzzled into her hand before Arlon grabbed the bar connecting his arms and yanked, pulling him to a kneel on the edge of the bed. The man's cock sunk deep into him, and Garrett cried out, jolting back into himself.

"Do you think he's earned his freedom yet?" Arlon asked even as his free hand wrapped around Garrett's throat. The half-orc sagged against Arlon's shoulder even as the grandmaster thrust deep again, making his cock jump inside the cage.

"No," Bridgette said. "Not yet."

Garrett moaned miserably as Bridgette cupped his testicles. He vainly tried to buck into her hand, but Arlon's cock speared him to the spot. Bridgette grinned up at him as she squeezed and kneaded the tender flesh, the pressure just shy of painful. She slid down and ran her tongue over the wrinkled skin of his balls before teasing his cock through the bars of his cage.

Garrett wailed as Arlon thrust deep, cock dragging against that spot inside of him hard enough that his vision sparked. His cock began to leak as Bridgette teased him through his cage with her tongue and fingers, stroking and pinching.

The need for release burned away the last of the cold. Arlon set a punishing pace, fucking him hard and deep, all but pulling Garrett onto him with every thrust. It had been two long months, and Arlon's cock was bliss as it stretched him, piercing him to his core. Garrett felt like kindling about to catch fire as the pressure built behind his testicles.

Both Arlon and Bridgette had done their part to train him. They'd milked his prostate to allow him to cum from penetration alone, but that wasn't in Bridgette's plans tonight. Instead, as soon as Garrett felt himself getting close, Bridgette clamped her fingers around his testicles and tugged them down.