The Truth of Desire Ch. 03

"Do you know why all these people are here?"

Damon weakly raised his eyes to his tormentor, who was sitting in a velvet-cushioned armchair in front of him. Tyrell waved to the denizens of the laboratory below, whose pathetic moans and whimpers could be heard even from this far away. His green eyes were fixed on a tome he was reading, putting on a disinterested air. Damon knew he was anything but. He didn't answer Tyrell, mainly because he was currently being subjected to the latest iteration of the choke horse.

Given everything his ass had been put through a few hours earlier, the buttplug was swapped out for a slightly smaller one—though not by much. It hardly mattered when Tyrell activated something and a faint, constant pulse had overtaken his ass from the inside. By some work of magic or dwarven engineering, he had installed a vibrating plug on this hellish machine—a device that was steadily driving Damon insane with its inconsistent rhythms and intensity. More than once, he'd drifted close to orgasm only to have it yanked from him when it calmed. If this was intentional on Tyrell's part, it certainly produced a massive amount of drool with which to polish his cock.

The strange, U-shaped metal clip had seemed an odd choice to replace the ball-crushing mallet head of the last choke horse. That was, until Tyrell had pulled a cable linked to the horse, and the hinge in the center of the clip made the metallic walls collapse around his nuts. Tyrell had been careful not to crush them outright, only really tightening it if his fucktoy stopped sucking him off. Instead, there was a constant minimal pressure, enough to hold onto his balls and make every forward lean painful as they were stretched away from his body.

Nevertheless, between his vulnerability and the periodic tugs of his leash reminding him of his position, Damon found himself dripping more often than he cared to admit. Especially so when his mind drifted back to the events of a few hours prior. He'd been so thoroughly fucked, in more ways and positions than he could've imagined, to the point where thinking was all but an impossible task. Tyrell had, within the space of an hour, regressed him to his old mentality, to a humble pet of the Templars, subject to their every whim and perversion. All thanks to a vulnerability he still hated to admit: part of him had always loved being a toy.

The freedom in surrendering to the power of his captors, the ability to worry about nothing except the pleasure of his owner...Damon could no longer deny the allure of such a life. Years he'd spent conditioning himself not to instinctively respond like a dog whenever a Templar issued an order. Years he'd worked to harden his spine and sharpen his teeth so he could never be made a slave again. Labors it had taken Tyrell mere hours to undo. This was why he'd been so afraid in Tyrell's office, why he'd hesitated and trembled when he was given the offer. Deep down, he knew how easily he could fall again, how easily he could break if pushed just right.

And he had broken.

Having his own cum fed to him was nothing new, but getting his ass creampied with his own emissions was a fresh humiliation he had not expected to be so potent. Tyrell had gotten everything he wanted from Damon, ripped it from him like a brute, and worst of all, made him love it. Distantly, he wondered if the Templar would still keep his word and release him after one day, or take advantage of the situation to make Damon a permanent addition to his toy collection. Surely Cassandra and the others would eventually realize something was wrong and come to find him...

But what would he say when they did? How could he even look her in the eye after this? Contrary to what he kept telling himself, nobody had forced him into this deal, no one had forced him to submit to this sadist and sell his body for the artifact. Weeks he'd gone without making love to Cass, whether due to excessive stress or sheer exhaustion, and now his first coitus since was with a man? A man he'd as much as told her he hated—and he had enjoyed every second.

Damon was rudely yanked from his thoughts by a sharp tug on his leash and Tyrell's cock lodging deep in his throat. Damon choked and gagged and stared up at him pleadingly.

Tyrell's eyes were still fixed on his book. "Every one of them is a mage," he said. "Even the damned qunari. Was one hell of a time making that acquisition, let me assure you. But so worth it."

Right as Damon's eyes began fluttering, Tyrell let him breathe, though he never removed his cock from Damon's mouth.

"See, I had this theory back at the Tower, one that I tested with you and a few others. A theory that necessitated many, many mage subjects to confirm. I didn't quite get a breakthrough until I got my hands on you." He somewhat gently grasped Damon's hair and tugged his head back and forth on his dick. "I wanted to double-check my findings, but I had to save enough to buy you off Gennair again. Sadly, the Tower fell long before that day came." He tugged harder, roughly bobbing Damon's head on his cock and forcing it in deep. "And I was forced to resort to..." he grunted and thrust in to the root, "lesser subjects."

Damon's muffled moans rippled around Tyrell's pulsing cock as he felt cum splash down his throat.

"Took me years to get back on track." Tyrell pulled back just enough to let him breathe, then twisted the clamps tight around his balls and watched him squirm. "See, I surmised that the reason Blood Magic makes mages so powerful is a channel of raw lyrium in their fluids. Blood, being among the primary and most concentrated of these fluids, contains a highly volatile type, not dissimilar to the primeval red lyrium known for driving people mad. But what if there were another fluid which contained lyrium?"

Damon's eyes widened slightly, though he remained silent for the cock pushing against his tonsils.

"Lyrium in the reproductive system would certainly explain a few things, not least of which the excessive libido and quick refraction period enjoyed by nearly every Templar and mage. It wasn't until you that I found a notable reaction to backfeeding cum. Don't get me wrong; you were always talented, but not exceptionally powerful. And now? Well, I think we both know it's a different story now."

Damon felt a pressure on his chest as something was pulled and held, remembering too late that Tyrell had clamped his nipples and linked them with a chain. He whimpered and gasped around Tyrell's dick.

"Thanks to those people down there, I finally got a viable process for extracting this lyrium and providing a steady source for my Templars. But more than that, I discovered hidden properties created by the interaction between seed and lyrium—mutagenic properties."

Tyrell leaned forward in his seat, plunging his cock in to the hilt and keeping it there until Damon met his eyes with a pleading look. Then he smirked and withdrew, walking off toward the desk he kept in this private chamber. Damon gasped and hacked for air, restraining whimpers at the grip still clenching his balls and the chains tugging on his nipples.

"See, every mage has the capacity for transformation—it's how demons turn them into abominations, and some mages can shapeshift into numerous beasts."

A few things rattled from behind Damon. He didn't bother trying to look, since it would only tug on his balls more.

"But most of these transformations are extremely drastic or damaging, or both. What if we could find a way around that? A way to let it interact with a mage's body more naturally, as if simply activating a new limb?"

Tyrell finally released the clamp around Damon's balls, untying him from the horse and gently hoisting him upright. Damon groaned at the buttplug's exit, shuddering at the faint splash of lube that splattered his thighs. Tyrell was still smirking as he led Damon to the X-cross and shackled him to it, spread out like a display ornament.

"That," Tyrell whispered, "is what this is for."

He held up a small syringe in Damon's eyeline. It was then that he felt alarm shudder through him and started tugging on his bonds. He stuttered and lisped around the ring gag in his mouth, trying to protest, but the look in Tyrell's eyes was implacable.

"Imagine, being able to transform your body at will, tweak even the most minor of details." Slowly, Tyrell wiped off a section of Damon's arm and pressed the needle to his skin. "To change your hair, your build, your race—" a smirk played over his lips, "—cock size." His smile widened. "Even your own sex."

Damon's violet eyes widened dramatically as he moaned and squirmed. The needle pierced his skin, and Tyrell's thumb depressed the plunger, slowly injecting its contents.

"To become anyone at the snap of your fingers. That is my gift to you, Inquisitor—the capability to infiltrate the courts of all your enemies or acquire a new friend using a face you could not otherwise bring to bear."

Damon panted and breathed heavily, feeling the serum spread through his system like a numbing heat, making him woozy and breathless with each heartbeat.

"Or, in this case..." Tyrell's tone and gaze took on a teasing quality, "exploring new carnal horizons previously closed to you.

Damon could barely listen to him for how much he was feeling. Everything, every nerve in his body, was twice as sensitive and buzzing like a hive of angry bees. Long minutes passed in relative silence broken only by his thrashing and gulping gasps of air. It wasn't until his vision went completely white that he slowly came back to himself, enough to see Tyrell clearly.

"Well?" he asked. "How do you feel?"

Damon was about to grunt at him for asking when he was gagged. Then his sore jaw moved, and he realized Tyrell had removed it at some point during his fugue.

Damon's mouth opened. "Fine, I think?"

His violet eyes widened sharply at the voice that came out of his mouth—higher-pitched, sultry, and altogether feminine. He rapidly replayed Tyrell's words in his head, horror gripping him as he hesitantly looked down toward the source of the tingling between his legs. His toned chest was no more, replaced by the unmistakable buxom curve of breasts, and beneath that there was no male member to be found.

Slowly, Damon looked back up at Tyrell in horror. "What have you done to me?"

Tyrell set the syringe aside. "I've unlocked the hidden potential of your magic. With time and practice, you will be able to transform at will, but for now, it seems your body has chosen the most radical of all changes for your initiation." He grinned and unshackled Damon's limbs. "Lucky me."

"W-Wait," Damon whimpered.

He looked down and saw Tyrell's cock—completely revived and utterly turgid.

"Wait! Hold on!"

Tyrell threw him over his shoulder and tossed him onto the bed. Damon's new limbs were sluggish to respond, though they nevertheless scrambled him further back on the mattress. A futile effort.

Tyrell crossed the distance with a single leap, pinning Damon's wrists to the bed as he—as she squirmed and kicked her legs. Legs that were quickly captured and pushed above her torso, bending her into a mating press. Tyrell's hardness rubbed against her new pussy, slick as it still was with Damon's saliva. The sensation alone made Damon squirm and whimper. It was so unlike having his cock played with, like all the nerves in his manhood were being dragged against a raging fire.

"Stop! Please!"

Tyrell halted, resting his cock on Damon's pussy.

"I don't want..." Damon panted and caught her breath. "I don't want...my first...like this..."

Tyrell's head cocked slowly. The same unsettling devious glint from earlier sparked in his eyes. "Not yet, you don't."

At which point, Tyrell pushed his cock further down and pressed it into Damon's ass. Seemed the transformation hadn't changed everything about her body. Her asshole still swallowed Tyrell's cock like it was made for it. And it was no less pleasurable being assfucked in the body of a woman. In fact, it was even more intense, though she couldn't tell if that were thanks to the nature of her new body or the aftereffects of the serum.

Or maybe it was just Tyrell and his tyrannical ownership of her body that ignited some perverted pyre in her head.

Whatever the cause, Damon held back her voice for a scant five minutes before he had her moaning like a cheap whore. Lubrication drizzled freely from her pussy, trailing down her navel and puddling under her new breasts (which she noted absently looked a little smaller than Cassandra's).

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," came her breathless refrain as Tyrell slowly, relentlessly pounded her ass.

Then Tyrell reached down and flicked his index across her tiny clit. Her eyes flew open, meeting his sparkling green. He kept rubbing and tweaking it as she squealed and thrashed as best she could. Her hips pumped and spasmed uncontrollably. Her pussy ran like a faucet. Damon's unsatisfied lusts from the choke horse suddenly came back like a bolt of lightning, reminding her she had yet to cum since being filled with her own seed. Then, suddenly, he stopped, his cock lodged halfway in her ass, his thumb poised over her clit without touching.

Damon's tongue had long lolled out of her mouth by now, but she slowly drew it back in as she teetered on the edge of climax.

"Sir?" she gasped.

He didn't respond except to stare at her.

"Sir, please don't stop. Please..."

She whimpered as he slowly dragged his cock back through her innards, enough to rile her but not enough to push her over the edge.

"Please let me cum," Damon whined.

Tyrell flicked her clit again. Her hips spasmed and abs tightened with lust.

"Please, sir, please! I need it!"

Tyrell looked down at her with disdain. "Do you really?"

"Yes, sir! Please! I've been a good fucktoy, sir..."

He grabbed her hair tightly—it was longer than she remembered—and hissed in her face. "How badly do you want it, slut?"

"So bad...so fucking bad, sir. I'm gonna fucking lose it if I can't—ugh fuck—please—"

He thrust up inside her twice, slow and steady.

"Please, please..."

Tyrell stopped moving, waiting until she met his green eyes, then smiled cruelly. "Beg me to fuck your pussy."

Damon's eyes widened, denial on her lips. Tyrell cut her off when he flicked her clit hard, almost hard enough to rocket her through orgasm—but not quite.

"Fuck!" she screamed. "Sir, please...not that. Anything but tha—aaaahhh!"

Tyrell pounded her ass hard and fast, rolling her clit between his fingers, then slapping her across the breast. Damon screamed as the explosion of pain made her orgasm retreat.

"Nuh-nuh—please, please!"

"Please what, slut?" Tyrell demanded, pinching her nipples and pulling them hard.

"Please just let me cum!"

"Beg me to fuck your pussy."

Her head shook violently. Almost as violently as Tyrell slapped her tits, sending them jiggling amid screams that sent a shock of delicious agony from her nipples to her clit. Then he grabbed her tits hard and slapped his hips against hers hard enough to rock the bed.

"Fu-uu-uuuck," she moaned, eyes crossing and rolling back. "Sir...mercy, please..."

Tyrell reached down and grabbed her throat, squeezing the sides of her neck. "No fucking mercy, bitch." He sneered. "You beg me to fuck your pussy, or I will edge and deny you all fucking day until our time is up." His manic eyes widened. "You think I won't? Think you can last until then? Keep saying no. See what happens."

Tyrell stuck a finger inside her drenched pussy before she could respond, curling it upward and stroking her insides. Damon's tongue lolled as stars exploded behind her eyelids. Then it stopped. She whimpered and moaned pathetically, weakly swatting at her tormentor with motions that got even weaker with every almost-finish he teased her to. The long minutes that followed felt like hours as she was shifted into several positions, all of which teased her ass in the ways she loved, yet none were able to get her off. She had tried to verbalize her denial every time Tyrell told her to beg for his cock in her pussy.

Every time, he plowed into her or tweaked her nipples or stroked her clit in a way that made her eyes roll and all coherent speech or thought take a sudden vacation. Soon, she barely had enough strength to shake her head. It wasn't until he had put her on her back, head draped over the side of the bed, and shoved his cock down her throat, that he had finally worn her down. At some point, he'd tied her hands behind her head to keep her from rubbing her clit to completion. Her body was riddled with red marks from all the slapping and no small amount of biting.

Her nerves were all alight with pain and pleasure, to intensity and degree enough to drive her mad. Damon was losing her fucking mind, and she finally grasped that he could in fact do this all day. Given that barely an hour had elapsed between the deal being made and Damon eagerly admitting to wanting to be Tyrell's fucktoy, she knew it would be well over a dozen more hours before she was free again. So it was with a cough and whimper at the cum Tyrell forced down her throat that she broke once again.

"Fuck me, sir," she slurred, drunk on cum and her own frustration. "Please fuck my pussy...breed me, sir..."

Tyrell trailed a hand over the side of her head and smiled down at her. "See? Was that so hard?"

Damon choked and sobbed as she was flipped around and bent back into a mating press. Tears streamed from her eyes as she surrendered and held her legs back for him, well beyond the point of scruples or thought. She needed release, and nothing else mattered. Her eyes slipped shut as she saw Tyrell position his cock at her neglected hole. They popped back open when he slapped her face hard enough to make her just a little coherent.

"Eyes open, whore," he growled. "I want you to watch. You look away, close your eyes, and I will never let you cum. Understand?"

She whimpered, bit her lip, and nodded.

"Good. Now watch."

Damon looked down at her pussy, runny and creamy with all its wasted lubrication—though wasted no more. The red, swollen head of Tyrell's cock teased around her opening, circling her clit, stroking her labia. Damon squirmed and cursed and panted for breath, but she never looked away, terrified he would withhold her finish.

"You watch my cock, or you watch me," Tyrell commanded.

It was at this that Damon looked up to see his green eyes boring down at her, making her shrink on the inside with every torturous second that passed.

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded.

She bit her lip. "Yours, sir."

A slap to her tit. "Speak up, slut!"

"Yours, sir!" she screamed.

Tyrell waited for her voice to echo through the bedroom, then grinned, all teeth. "Then let's make it official."

In one long, savage stroke, he plunged his thick cock into her pussy, deflowering and filling her all at once. Damon screeched like a banshee at the pain that surged through her nethers. Pain that confused her, stimulated her, drove her ailing mind from one insanity to another. Pain that peaked a half minute after he bottomed out inside her, giving her that time alone to get used to his girth.

Then he pulled back and fucked her like an animal.

With each bed-shaking thrust, her ass bounced off his hips and legs waggled in the air. Her neck, bent in its odd angle, nevertheless had no issue keeping her eyes on Tyrell as he honored her wish and bred her. Damon's tongue waggled dumbly, eyes barely able to stay straight thanks to the intense throbbing heat spreading throughout her lower body.

"P—lee—eaase!" she screamed.

Tyrell grinned and held her gaze as liquid arousal splashed across her thighs and navel, some droplets even falling between her lips. Seemed he hadn't given up on feeding Damon her own cum, even in this form. He pounded her pussy, hard and slow, making her thighs jiggle and tongue loll with every thrust. Then he grabbed her neck and squeezed, hissing in her face.