this is nsfw

He attempted to move, but he realized he couldn't. His senses grew on high alert then as he twisted his wrists that were behind him.

Coarse ropes bound Kubo's hands behind what he realized was a wooden chair, the twine biting into his skin. More rope pinned his torso to the chair, and even more rope lashed his legs to the chair's legs, keeping him in place.

Kubo twisted against his bonds, testing their strength. However, they kept hold of him like a snake coiling around him, the ropes seemingly tightening around him the more he tried to struggle. It was then that he realized he couldn't move the chair either—it was likely bolted to the floor, preventing further escape.

Kubo cursed under his breath. And without his axe, there was no way to escape from his predicament.

But the real question here was… whoever took him, why were they keeping him alive? As a knight to the prince of Viris, he should have been killed by now. If anything… Hilmir should have been the target, not Kubo.

His heart ached at the thought. No. He shouldn't think about the prince like that. Kubo would rather be the one here than Hilmir.

"Is he awake?"

Kubo's head shot up at a gruff voice, muffled from above him.

"I heard some struggling down there," another voice chuckled, "he's definitely awake."

Kubo's ears twitched again as footsteps grew closer to where he was. After a minute, two men walked down the staircase, their pace unhurried. One of them, the "injured" one that Kubo attempted to help before, grinned when he saw the knight.

"You're finally awake, little knight," he sneered, as he and his comrade approached the helpless elf.

Kubo didn't try to struggle; he knew that doing so would fuel his captors' sick pleasure. Instead, he glared at them both, his teeth clenched.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, gesturing at the ropes holding him to the chair. If he was going to find a way to escape, he needed to figure out what these bastards want.

"For a knight who serves the royal whelp," one of his captors taunted, "you were quite easy to capture."

"You have used the goodness of my heart to capture me," Kubo growled, "you're cowards, both of you!"

"And your prince isn't?"

"Do not speak about him that way!" Protectiveness kicked in for the knight then, as he writhed against the ropes. "Once he learns that you have kidnapped a knight who serves the kingdom, he will make sure to send an army after you both."

"Oh, that won't be necessary, knight," the other man chuckled, "if anything, he'll come running."

Kubo paused his struggles, the bravery in his eyes faltering when one of his captors said this. Yes, Hilmir was reckless, but… he knew better than to go by himself to save just one knight.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Kubo demanded.

"You're bait," one of his captors taunted, "you and the royal whelp are close, and the prince would fetch a pretty coin for us. However… his damned father always keeps an eye out for his son, so what better way than to lure the prince himself here than to hold his dog hostage?"

Kubo's heart stuttered in his chest, his eyes widened. No. He was bait? For Hilmir? He wouldn't let that happen. Not now. Not ever.

"I will never let you hurt him," Kubo growled, "I will make sure of that." His voice remained brave, but it was faltering slightly due to his worries. If Hilmir ended up getting hurt trying to save Kubo… Kubo would never forgive himself.

"Will you?" one of his captors chuckled, pulling something from his back pocket that Kubo couldn't see. "We'll make sure he'll fall for our trap."

He approached Kubo, who struggled and barked out threats against his and the other man's lives.

"I will destroy you both! I will not let you harm h—mmgh!"

Kubo's shouts were rendered muffled, as a thick, dirty cloth was shoved between his teeth and tied behind his head. The man tightened the cloth behind Kubo's head for sadistic pleasure before stepping back, enjoying the sight.

Kubo glared at them both, growling muffled threats and shouts. Both of his captors laughed at his state.

"Now," one of the men chuckled, "be a good little hostage and stay right where you are. Your prince in shining armor will come for you soon."

They both hid in opposite sides of the room, and Kubo could feel their smirks as they eyed the staircase. The staircase that Hilmir would eventually run down in.

Kubo shut his eyes, tugging against his restraints as his thoughts were filled of Hilmir. His prince. The man who scoffed at the knight at first, only for him to warm up to Kubo. The two were close, inseparable. It wouldn't be surprising when Hilmir would eventually burst down the stairs to rescue the knight he considered a friend.

No. Kubo didn't want that to happen. He was the one protecting Hilmir, not the other way around! If something happened to Hilmir…

“I can’t see any information on the display,” he said in a rush, tensed against the chair restraints as David continued to grope. Marcus inhaled sharply but didn’t cry out as heard and felt his fly being unzipped. Don’t. Not this.

“Good. Eyes front, Lev.” 

He obeyed, hoping it didn’t show when he shivered.

“There may come a day when you are taken captive out in the field. It is possible that they will demand you reveal information that you do not have. It is imperative that you behave as though you do know what they want. Why is that, Lev?”

“That--” His voice gave out as fingers grazed him through his boxers. Why... Marcus dug his fingernails into his palms and swallowed. “That gives the team time to attempt an extraction.”

“Correct. For the first part of your time here, you will need to resist telling me about what you didn’t see on the display.”

Marcus' jaw flexed as he tried to take a deeper breath. If you can’t be calm, breathe deep and fake it. Of course, that advice was usually about enduring the last grueling part of a training exercise, not ignoring while an officer molested-- He froze for a moment as the hand withdrew from his pants.

“I’m going to hurt you until you tell me what I want to know.”

He instantly resumed his paced breathing, ignoring as he heard David walking away. Toward the counter. Marcus hid his sigh of relief, counting silently though his exhale. I can do this. 

“They say that not being able to see where a blow comes from makes it more painful.” 

Marcus was grateful for the blindfold as he heard something swish through the air and flinched, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut. Breathe through it. Breathe until it stops. I can-- The tap against his upper arm was light, quiet, and done with something more narrow than a baton. It took an effort to keep facing forward. 

“Not ready to talk?” Thwack.

He wasn’t given any time to respond before a line of fire lit up his arm. Marcus stopped breathing and gritted his teeth as the pain sank in. Cane. Has to be. Fuck. Fuck! While whippings were the most common public punishment for transgressions, occasionally canings were meted out, too. 

“That’s fine.” Thwack.

Marcus grimaced as a second line blazed across his arm directly below the first; he hadn’t caught his breath yet.

“I can wait.” Thwack.

At least punishments include the number of blows to come, his reeling brain offered unhelpfully. Marcus shuddered as his upper arm seared from the three strikes. Even his fingers hurt, right to the nail beds. Shit shit shit! 

“Or you could end this.” Thwack.

Marcus groaned through his teeth as the next blow drove into his other arm. 

Thwack.

He ducked his head, turned his face away as the fifth blow stole his breath from his lungs, forcing out a wheezy cry. His entire body wanted to curl up from the pain, as if that could save him. Tears beaded up on his lashes under the blindfold.

“Tell me.” Thwack.

Marcus bit down on his lower lip. I can’t. If I say anything, I’m dead. Was he bleeding? There was no way to feel anything but the pain. It throbbed, like a broken bone. 

“It can be anything.” Thwack.

He gasped, then moaned. It felt like a knife had cut open the length of his thigh. Marcus started to tremble. 

“A place.” Thwack. 

Marcus’ stomach lurched as his other thigh lit up. 

“A name.” Thwack. Thwack.

He wanted to swallow, but he couldn’t stop panting. Now he was grateful for the blindfold; he didn’t want to see his thighs split open. He leaned into the chest straps, unable to straighten up. Shaking broke out here and there, in his arms and legs, stoking the lines of fire slashed across his limbs. He groaned, feeling and not caring that he was drooling. He desperately did not want to be hit again. I can’t! 

“Say it, and I’ll stop.”

The cane swished through the air, and though no blows landed, Marcus moaned. 

“Should we switch to hitting bone?”

No. Marcus didn’t resist as his right fist was pried open, his palm pressed flat and held against the chair arm, trembling fingers splayed. 

“Last chance.”

No no no... 

“If I break you enough, they’ll kill you anyway, right?”

The cane came to rest across his knuckles. Not there! Marcus jerked against the straps, yelping as it made every cane stripe flare. Don’t! 

“Why would they pay to fix you when you’re so easy to replace?”

At least the needle wouldn’t hurt. Or would it? It would be like AMTEC to make the consequences of a final failure hurt like any other punishment. I can’t. I need to breathe. I ca-- 

Thwack.

Marcus yelled and didn’t stop until he ran out of air. 

...

“Oof. Not very pretty, is it? All those little bones, and under such thin skin...” David flexed the cane between his hands as he watched Marcus shudder under his restraints. “I hope that wasn’t your shooting hand.”

The levy gasped, then choked out a whimper. He shook his head again and again and again.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to say?” He lowered the cane and gently gripped Marcus’ jaw, lifting until Marcus’ head was resting against the back of the chair. “Why go through more of this?”

His breathing hitched. 

“Nothing? Alright.” David grinned and set his hand on Marcus’ left fist. “On we go, then.”

Marcus resisted having his fingers separated and his palm forced flat, but it wasn’t much of a fight. His lips were pressed bloodless to hold in a sob.

“Crying already?” He stood in front of Marcus and touched the side of the cane to levy's cheek. 

He gasped and jerked away from the contact.

“Eyes front,” David ordered softly. He smiled as Marcus complied, slowly facing forward and cringing as it brought him back into contact with the cane. “Looks like you can keep your mouth shut. That’s your first test passed. Good boy.”

Marcus’ lip trembled before he could bite down on it.

“From this point forward, I’m going to expect this level of performance from you in all things.” He stroked Marcus’ cheek with the cane. 

“Y...yes,” he replied, visibly struggling to get his breathing back under control, “Captain.”

“When I come to you in the future, you’ll have more to show me than you did in that cleaning closet.” He lowered the cane and rapped it against the metal of the chair, grinning when Marcus flinched. “Yes?”

Marcus shuddered, then gasped -- he’d tried to clench both hands into fists.

“You’re a special case, Lev, and we’re going to see more of each other after today.” He headed back to the counter. He used a spray and paper towels to wipe down the cane. “If you attempt to deny me in any way, I promise that you’ll be assigned another round of special training. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

“Excellent.” David pulled open a drawer, plucked out the gag he needed, and retraced his steps to Marcus. “Open your mouth.”

Marcus sagged against the belts keeping him upright in the chair, his chin nearly resting on his chest.

“I gave you an order, lev.”

“Y...y-you...” 

David’s smile widened into a grin as he watched Marcus struggle. He couldn't tell if Marcus was too afraid or in too much pain to think straight, and either worked for him. He gripped the blindfold and raised Marcus’ head, enjoying the little sounds he let out on each strained exhale. There was no rush; inside these walls, his authority was absolute. David gave the knot of the blindfold a twist, just to hear Marcus gasp.

“You said...I passed.”

“Did you think that meant that you could leave?” David wished he’d taken the blindfold off. He put his knee on the chair and slowly pushed it into Marcus’ groin. 

“C-Captain--”

“We’re not done here until I’m sure you’ve absorbed every lesson I had you brought here to learn, little lev.” David fished the ring gag out of his pocket and tapped Marcus on the nose. “Open up.”

“Please,” Marcus breathed. Goosebumps coated his arms between leather straps and cane weals.

David gave the blindfold knot another twist. When Marcus cried out, he rammed the ring into his mouth, wedging it behind his teeth before grabbing the straps.

Marcus tried to pull away and smacked his head into the back of the chair.

David simply guided the straps around the headrest. 

“‘Ahh!”

“Shhh,” he soothed, moving behind the chair to tighten and secure the gag strap. Once that was done, he circled around in front of Marcus, watching him alternate between struggling and wincing. “You’re a tough little thing, aren’t you, lev.” He stroked Marcus’ temple, then worked a finger under the blindfold and eased it up and off his head. 

Marcus blinked against the light, his eyes flooded with tears. His eyes went wide as David leaned in close.

“You’ll need to be more than tough for what I want out of you,” David explained, grabbing a leather strap dangling from the headrest and laying it across Marcus’ forehead. “You’ll resist at first, and that’s fine.” He tightened and secured the strap, but didn’t back off. David ran a finger over Marcus’ lower lip. 

He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard and fast.

“Such a shy boy.” He smirked and stuck his finger into Marcus’ mouth, stroking his teeth and tongue. 

A soft groan of disgust snuck out as two fingertips mashed his tongue down. His eyes flew open as he gagged, but he stared straight ahead.

“Please,” David taunted, chuckling, “don’t pretend for my sake. Struggle, if you like. Scream, for all the good it will do you.” He scoffed and removed his fingers, swiping them dry on Marcus’ shirt before moving away. “You seem inexperienced with...swallowing.” David threw an amused look back over his shoulder. “Do I have that right, levy?”

Marcus coughed, but didn’t move; couldn’t move.

“With that gag in, you won’t be able to bite or spit. If you even tried, I’d activate your chip until you blacked out.” He rummaged through another drawer until he found the dildo he wanted, along with a coil of leather cordage. He shook out the cord as he walked back to Marcus. He stopped in front of him, letting him watch as he tied the cord around the flared base of the dildo. “This little guy is for an extra special bit of training I’ve wanted to give you since I first laid eyes on you. Can you guess what it is?” he asked, waggling the flaccid toy at Marcus with a smirk.

“Noh...”

“No?” David moved closer and tapped the head of the dildo against Marcus’ lower lip. “No you can’t guess?”

“‘E-ease noh.” 

“If you stay calm and learn to be in command of that pesky gag reflex, you won’t suffocate.” He stared into Marcus’ wide brown eyes, watching the tears build as he struggled against the headstrap and gag. “Understand, little lev?”

“‘Ease,” Marcus begged, his good hand squeezed into a bloodless fist.

“Now, now, where’s that fighting spirit?” David worked the dangling ends of leather cord under the gag straps cutting across into Marcus’ cheeks. “This is only half of what I’ll need you to do.” He pushed the head slowly into Marcus’ mouth.

The leather straps keeping Marcus in the chair creaked as he struggled, crying out in pain and alarm.

“Shh. It’s not all at once. You can breathe.”

“‘Ease!” The word was partly muffled; the diameter of the shaft was a tight fit into the ring.

“Listen, little lev, or I’ll give you a zap to clean out your ears.”

Marcus’ eyes went wider still, tears running down his face.

“Relax and breathe,” David urged, eating up the revulsion and fear naked on Marcus’ face. “You’ll gag, but you won’t choke. Ready?”

Marcus sobbed, then gagged as the dildo filled more of his mouth.

“You can breathe.” He stared, lips parted as Marcus’ coughed, teary eyes narrowed. David tugged on the ends of the leather cord, eliminating the slack now that most of the dildo was in Marcus’ mouth. “Relax. Try to vomit and it’ll be coming out your nose.” He knotted off one cord at a time, securing it to the gag straps so Marcus wouldn’t be able to push out the dildo. “How will you breathe, then?”

Gagging made Marcus strain against the chest straps, again and again. 

“You’ll get used to having your throat filled.” David sighed, content as he watched Marcus fighting to stop the waves of motion rolling through his body. “Fuck you look good like that, lev.” He cupped under Marcus’ chin, letting a fingertip lightly rest against his throat, needing to feel each attempt to retch. An ache pulsed in his cock at the thought of feeling Marcus struggle from the inside, hot and wet and squeezing. “Good boy. You’ll be capable of so much by the time I’m done with you.”

Marcus coughed between bouts of gagging, forcing drool out around the dildo. 

“Shh. Breathe through your nose. Relax and take it.” David chuckled as Marcus’ frown deepened. “Good. Stay focused.” He let his hand fall away as the times between gagging lengthened. He palmed between Marcus’ legs instead, fondling gently through his boxers. 

Marcus’ yell ended in a gurgle and sparked a fresh round of coughing and gagging. 

“Mmm.” He worked a hand into Marcus’ boxers and started stroking. He smiled, knowing that each time Marcus squirmed his fresh cane weals would burn and throb. “Steady, lev. Let’s get you nice and warmed up...”

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