#deaddovedonoteat

Sitting in the afterglow, you imagined smoking a cigarette.. looking outside your window, watching the pitter patter of the rain against the now vague view, colored in only greys and blues as you struggled to make out the scene you were so familiar with wholly covered by the heavy rain's bulk and haze. Looking back at your pillow, you smiled contentedly and leaned into it, putting yourself at the crook of Zuma's neck and feeling the softness of the fabric.

Ah.. the whole family was asleep right now. It was great. She'd wash the pillowcase herself, and the pillow itself, of course, too.

Completely fucked out, she fell asleep, leaving a politely confused Zuma wondering what the fuck a lady was doing completely straddled on him, as he reached around his waist for confirmation of.. the uncomfortable feeling of a belt that was definitely not his size. He needed to sit up, but upon first impressions, there was just no way of knowing where the hell this was and why it was happening. Was it an alien? Sitting up and stirring her awake as he moved her off of him, her shoulders leaving his, she started blinking herself awake in horror at him moving. He put her off of him, or attempted to. Complexed by why when he tried to establish distance between them it seemed not to work, until she got off of him herself. Legs trembling half from confusion, unsure of her actions, and strap-on slipping straight out of her with a sharp flail towards his stomach. She watched in silent shock as his jaw dropped, watching the glistening.. thing of it lay flat on his stomach, as he quickly reached around to find how to undo the belt. "Y.. you have to." She seemingly manage a choked whisper, her hands slightly twitching out toward his waist, "It's.. you loosen it.. and slide it off.."

Was this a dream? The feel of a man's hand at your shoulders.. no doubt about it! This was a real live human. Being. He quickly slipped the thing off of him, putting it away and stood up, seemingly intent on leaving. For some reason, despite having zero interaction or capability to talk to a guy, you wished he wouldn't leave. Just not yet, at least. You wanted to stroke his belly.. as you did so very often fantasised, his chiseled firm.. wait, right infront of him?! You couldn't believe your audacity.

As if the heavens themselves were shining down on you, the door seemed unable to open.

Convinced this was an attack by a serpo, or that this was a UFO, he sized her up, wondering if he'd even be able to beat an answer out of this shaky, anxious, small figure on the bed, turned away from him to bite down on her thumb. She seemed about as shocked as he was. She seemed not even intent on looking at him, confused and nervous.

"Hey.. not to like.." Completely stilling at the sound of his voice, he almost felt bad to even talk to you. "Bother you. But can you tell me what was happening.. before.. this?"

'Why the fuck are you standing on business' her look seemed to say. Completely unnerved by sitting on a dude, she froze looking at him like a deer in headlights. She couldn't even hold a guy's hand. She just fell asleep on him with her ass on his dick. What the fuck did he mean she had to talk to him now?

Exasperated by the situation, he cupped a hand to his brow, really not feeling up to beating up a girl in her underwear. "Can you open this door?" He only watched as she turned the knob hopelessly, while the door refused to open. "Were you kidnapped here?" She blinked at him, his voice ringing in her head as she tried to keep a straight face, "No. this is my.. home."

It was taking everything out of her to just talk to him. Neither of them knew how small her voice was, as he looked to her almost guilty of the emotional distress he's put her through. "I-- I've been dreaming of this a ho-" 'horribly long time' she couldn't bring herself to say, "..a long time.. so maybe.. that's why.."

He seemed even more at a loss, now. 'Who the fuck even are you?' His face yelled.

If.. she didn't want him here, would this all go back to normal? Or.. well. If it didn't, then his plan would not only be useless, but a disaster waiting to happen. If his plan was to trap her in a room indefinitely with a guy he forces her to hate. "Why the fuck would you do that?" Oh well. He could maybe beg for forgiveness after. He had no choice.

Bile trying to burn its way up your stomach and out your throat, you could only keel over and bow for forgiveness, tears threatening to soak the mattress. "This is what you mean when you want to chase your dreams?" Blubbering, you could only shake your head, hoping that he could forgive you in his heart one day. So this is what it's like to be scolded by him..!

He shook his head tentatively, and changed his tone. "Can you wish for something else?" It was only natural~ that he couldn't get mad at a lady. What a gentleman! Your hand clutched at your chest, flattered by his presence, his kindness.

Closing your eyes and wishing for a watermelon to appear in your hand, he was left with disappointment while you shook your head. 'Maybe you're stuck with me forever..' your voice truly couldn't leave you. 'I couldn't wish for anything else, right now.'

He started picking his nose, and eating it after. You blinked, unsure of what to make of the scene. Then, he farted. "I wanna take a shit,"

Magically, a toilet appeared in the room, 'What the fuck?! You wanna watch me shit?!' He seemed to silently curse you as he jumped at the toilet that appeared right before his eyes. "Okay. Okay." He seemed to mutter under his breath, and you wondered if you needed to wash the bedsheets too after he threw the used strap-on down at the mattress.

'She's an enemy..' he thought to himself, her everything unassuming and without a doubt.. not at fault for all this. Neither of them seemed comfortable in this situation. He sat on the floor, blinking, and looked around the room for something to take hostage. He needed to sway her heart.

Then, he found it. That disgusting thing. Grabbing the strap, he threw it in the trash bin. Shocked, she blinked at him. Why was she excited?! Did she misunderstand?! How could she remain so consistent in this situation??

Suddenly, a frown befell her face. Was.. was his plan working..?? He genuinely had no clue.

Anxious to leave, he tried to get to know her better first. Turning off the air con, he began to ask her what she does in her free time. Completely stumped once she couldn't get the word 'masturbate' out.

Somehow.. it felt insulting. To know he didn't.. find her.. well, rousing.. in this.. situation. A lady gets off a dick right on top of you.. half naked, and he's.. is he gay? Erectile dysfunction? Even though she knew he was a nice guy, this pissed her off. This was the last place she'd want him to maintain a professional distance..! Though, at the same time.. it was quite endearing. She wanted to suck his dick.. he was so perfect. She couldn't even watch as the toilet changed, and bound him to a wooden chair where he was left to twist and struggle against the binds. She was doing all this. Oh god, he's gonna hate her. Why the fuck were her regular fantasies coming to life? This was the last thing she wanted.. to make him hate her.

"Hey.. actually, um." She paid attention to his words. He didn't sound upset. "Do you think that we'd be able to leave after you're done with me?" She shook her head, agonising, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'll just start hating you, so.." "I mean.. that we'd be free if.. you just get this over with.."

He sighed a long moment.. he didn't really wanna fight her, to like abuse her in any way just to get out of this mess, but honestly it seemed like a better option amidst the plethora of other choices regarding not beating some hate into her. For her to feel so guilty about what she was putting him through was genuinely disturbing. He'll have to shoulder this burden alone!

As she willed him out of the chair and instead into his sweats- another fantasy of hers that was more tame but about basically as eager to get a piece of him in that, he shot out and punched her in the gut, a 'no hard feelings' steeled into his chest as he watched her fall back on the bed, clutching her stomach that had already been sore from riding the strap for so long. "I'll kick my way out of this." He said dumbly, grinding his fist into her stomach again. For some reason, she held her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, completely accepting the situation. Was leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but he was honestly getting impatient after seeing her almost curse herself out for his misfortune. He furrowed his brow slightly and choked her, wondering if this would be the last blow. But she seemed to..?!

Letting go of her, he watched her stop tensing her legs together, and catch her breath, looking away from him to hide her smile.

She couldn't be serious..

Wiping her tears, she could die happy right then and there. He touched her.. stomach..! And his.. he was so strong.. doubling over, she held herself in pain, while he crouched down at the floor head in hands wondering where he went wrong.

"..you just wanna fuck, right?" It was actually insane. How he maintained his composure, just barely. "Well I can't do that. Looks like we'll be in here forever."

She blinked at him, eyes watering. "N-no.. we- I.. don't.." "Then what do you want?" Still out of breath from the punching and choking, she mourned the loss of his touch as the ache and warmth only served to remind her of his attention, "I.. I want to.. touch your abs.."

Mind a jumbled up mess from his abuse, he squinted at her. What a simple fucking thing to leave. In no time, he grabbed her hand, and put it on his stomach, standing beside her, fully certain that he'd begin to leave the moment it happens. Feeling her hand twitch and press her fingertips lightly against him, she genuinely wanted to vomit. No, not like this.. why was she touching him there..? She wasn't ready..

Pulling her hand away from him, he held firm on her wrist, keeping her on his stomach. "So? Get to it. Don't waste this opportunity," Biting her lip, her hand simply moved against him, not around the surface of his skin but unable to keep still from having so much contact with this.. attractive hulk of a man. "I can't." She sputtered, looking at him, "I can't do it." "It's your dream, you know?" "I'm gonna vomit."

She pressed a hand to her mouth, while he remained unflinching. "Maybe.." Her hand was placed under his shirt, now- skin tight as it was already, she felt the full warmth of his sculpted build. She felt tears grazing her eyes. What the fuck? It just hit her that he was holding her hand. Did he.. want to get married? Who treats a lady.. so forward.. "Zuma. I'm gonna vomit." "Are you okay? This is getting kind of.." "I can't do it."

On that night he hadn't been interesting in fucking Jaskier. Instead he had decided to see how many links of the enchanted silver chain he could feed past the rim of Jaskier's puffy (no longer virginal looking) asshole. 

Each link was as thick as two of Geralt's fingers held together and as long as an egg stood on its end, not a challenge when compared to the other things Geralt had successfully stuffed into the bard already.

And all that before you took into account the size of Geralt cock, which the bard was taking regularly with minimal preperation required at that point.

The challenge came in the sheer number of links available. The chain measured nearly fifteen feet and was heavy enough (and valuable enough) that it normally lived in a special enchanted pack attached to Roach's saddle.

The special pack was also treated on the inside so that the silver chain was less likely to tarnish, a slick film covering the surface.

---

Jaskier's ass was spread open and pointed up to the sky, his head and upper back touching the ground while his knees rested bent near his ears shoulder width apart. Geralt had heard the pose called a plough, and had put name and form to function using it on numerous occasions for fucking.

It gave the best vantage point for seeing what could be stuffed into that much beloved body.

The bright cold silver almost sparkled in the moonlight as Geralt pressed link after link down into Jaskier's depths. He had an upclose view as the weight of the chain drew the length deeper and deeper.

The first few had been easy. The puffy wrinkled rim opened over the widest part of the chain link before reflexively clenching tight from the chill of the metal.

Jaskier's rim fluttered open-close open-close with each new addition. Between the weight of the links and the contractions of over worked muscle each new silver link seemed to almost be pulled down one after the next.

A little past a quarter of the way there was a wave of muscular spams that rolled through Jaskier's usually pliant body. Geralt had to stop and massage the lightly haired belly. His little toy was likely cramping from the weight and unusual pressure being placed against his insides.

If he pressed down hard enough into the soft vulnerable flesh of Jaskier's body he could almost feel where the hard metal chain was starting to bunch up. He could hear the faint rubbing of silver against silver with his Witcher hearing. The dull rasping metallic sound audible even through the layers of flesh, muscle and skin.

At the midway point Geralt had to start adding more pressure behind each new insertion. Each new link pushed the last link deeper, but there was only so much space to start with.

The constant hard pressure of the metal links moving across and up against his prostate had Jaskier's cock leaking a near steady burble of clear seminal fluid. The bard's cock was only halfway to hard, more flacid than not, but from that point on Geralt made it a point to include it in the deep massaging rub. The belly was noticeably more pooched out than when he'd started.

He developed a routine. He would push a link in, run his fingers around the sweetly swollen rim of Jaskier's asshole (bisected by the chain still remaining), and then make a circuit with his hands over the rest of his favorite parts on display.

He would roll his knuckles, deeply pushing hard along the seam of perineum, cup and squeeze Jaskier's not unsurprisingly large testicles, ring his fingers around the full blown erection for a few pumps before turning his attention to palpating under his friends belly button, up over abdominals and back down to his asshole. He'd push in the next link and repeat.

Over and over untill with a good 18 or 20 inches still left Geralt decided it would probably be safer to stop.

The last link was only half way inside, the widest part of it kept pushing out and back into Jaskier along with his breathing. He was overful, burdened by the odd position and the heft of feet of silver resting inside his body.

Insertion done with Geralt sat back onto his knees and prepared the main part of the evening. Sure to wear his friend out so that the next days peace was guaranteed. A sore tired bard would welcome a chance to doze on the back of Roach and wouldn't sing, or compose verse, he would just be docile and thankful to Geralt for the kindness.

His favorite variety of Buttercup.

He quickly rolled the bard over onto his back. In that position the swell in his belly was obvious. The taut stretched skin appeared almost embossed by the chain visibly straining against it's over full container.

Geralt took the very last link in the silver chain and staked a long 'U' shaped stake through it and into the hard sod covered ground. Jaskier wouldn't be going anywhere.

The thing about enchanted silver is that it reacted much like his medallion, vibrating in the presence of specific spells.

Geralt cast Quent, erecting a protective circle around his friend. Immediately the entire length of the chain began to writh and vibrate. Jaskier's confused over stimulated, and overwhelmed body tripped over into a climax, cum spurting out on to a belly vibrating from within.

Three or four links had been forced out of Jaskier's ass by the contractions of his channel. He'd likely push more out with each following orgasm too.

The slick seed of Jaskier's release danced rapidly up and down, it looked like a rain puddle disturbed by the passage of a herd of trampling horses, or left over wine dancing within a goblet, disturbed by the loud noise of a banquet hall.

Geralt added his own cum to the oscillating mess.

The spell should last untill dawn. Meanwhile he could rest and still have time to retrieve the chain, clean it, pack it, and then quietly meditate before the potion wore off and Jaskier regained consciousness.

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