Michael lay in total darkness, curled into a ball on the stone altar, his hands and ankles having been un-cuffed. He cried softly, feeling an emptiness inside of himself that he knew would never be filled again. Ilara had cast him aside, taken the token of her affection away and left him at the mercy of her family. The girls that were his caretakers now were sadistic in their games. He could not get off, no matter what was done to him, it would not happen because they had complete control over his body. Darkness was his world now, between sessions with his cruel Mistresses. If he thought Ilara had ever done anything sadistic or intentionally harsh to him, he had been wrong a thousand times over. He did not know how many days had passed since she left, but each and every one was tortuous. He would know when someone was coming to play with him when he was awoken by the sound of the stone door moving and the sudden burst of light from torches or candelabras. They would not physically hurt him, much. Their game wasn’t painful, body disfigurement torture, but psychological in nature. A pretty woman would burst in the room, unchain him, whisper to him that she would save him, and lead him away. They would walk down the hallway for what seemed like hours and then stop suddenly and turn into a doorway that lead right back into his room with the same stone altar and chains, waiting for him. But instead of chaining him up again, there would be some grotesque monster to pleasure. The worst part was never getting release. For hours afterward, Michael’s balls would ache, and he would try to pleasure himself, hoping for a release. Nothing happened, except more pain. He was barely himself anymore. Michael couldn’t have known anything else in the world but pain. And Ariella. He could not forget her face. Now that he was free of Ilara and if he could escape, then he could be with her. He had wanted so badly to tell her the truth about her trials, that it was all a set up. He had tried, but his compulsion had left him a stuttering mess. In the darkness her face floated up to him. Wishing him to be strong, for her. Sometimes he would talk to her, try to tell her he was coming for her, but she would fade, leaving him feeling more and more empty. He didn’t know how much longer he could fight, to hold on to hope, but he must try. So it was, when the door opened, Michael flinched away, trying to hide himself. He peaked out from between his arms and saw the most beautiful Fae he had ever seen in his life. She stood tall and proud, her shoulders held back regally, like she was used to giving demands and having them followed without questions. Her black hair fell to her waist, straight and shinning in the dull glow of light from the passageway behind her. Her eyes glowed a soft red, filling the room with their subtle light. She was wearing only a see through, black robe, naked underneath like all the Fae when in their home realm of Nypharum. It flowed with otherworldly grace around her ass and legs when she walked. “What is your name?” shed asked, walking over to him and bending down, caressing his face with her hand. He flinched back from her touch, not wanting to give in to another trick. Whatever game this was, he would not fall for it. “Just get it over with,” he said, pain filling his voice. “Dear, I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help you,” she said. Michael looked at her face, the soft red glow he found there filled him with comfort, and warmth. He felt his resolve lapsing. Giving in would mean a fate worse than death, he must still fight. “I’ve heard that before. I’m not falling for your game. Just do what you came to do and leave,” he said, turning to her, removing his hands, defiance on his features. “You mistake me. I am not a low Fae. I am from the High Court. And, I want to know your name,” she said, bending down and kissing him gently on the lips. “Michael,” he said, figuring that she already knew it, but that this was a test. “My name is Kythaela,” she said, stepping back and taking her robe off. She hung it on a hook by the door that had not previously been there. “I have a proposition for you, Michael. I want your help.” “What could I possibly do for you from here?” he asked, sitting up. “More than you will ever know. Now, you have met this Ariella that everyone is talking about?” Kythaela asked, walking back over to him, sitting down on the altar next to him. “Yes. Is she ok? What has happened to her?” Michael asked, concerned. “She is fine. Her gift has awoken and now she is the most powerful mortal to walk the face of any realm. I need your help in turning her from Ilara. She discarded you and you owe her no more loyalty, am I correct?” she said, running her fingers up Michael’s arm to his shoulder, she began rubbing his muscles. They ached fiercely due to malnutrition and abuse, and her ministrations were the most amazing sensation Michael could ever remember having. “You already know the answers. Tell me what you want from me or leave,” he said defiantly. He could not bring himself to shrug off her touch. “I want you to stay here, in captivity. But when Ariella comes to rescue you, leave with her. Tell her that you know a safe place to hide, tell her that you know who has helped her all along. Will you do this, for me?” said Kythaela, sliding over to nuzzle her face in his neck, brushing her lips against her skin. “I...Why would she come here, for me?” he asked, barely able to control himself. If only she would continue to touch him, to fill that emptiness inside him. The power emanating from her was palpable. “Because, my sister will not be allowed to have control over her. Ilara wants to dominate Ariella and use her to gain prestige in the High Court. Ariella is more special than that, I have seen it with my own eyes,” she said, whispering the words into his ear, lips brushing the skin, causing a chill to run down his spine. He shivered, for once, not because of the cold. “I want to protect her, keep her from any harm that Ilara would do to her. You’ve seen what she is capable of. I am not like my sister.” The words were ringing in his head, his whole body seemed like it was vibrating. His arms, that had been holding him sitting up, gave way and he fell onto his back. Kythaela continued caressing his chest and neck. “I wanted to protect her. I tried to warn her, but I couldn’t resist. I wasn’t strong enough,” he began to sob. “Do not blame yourself, there was nothing that you could have done,” said Kythaela. Her hand trailed down his chest onto the muscles of his abdomen, tracing their diminishing shape. “If you do this for me, help me protect her, I can do something for you.”Kythaela’s hand trailed down, between his legs and began massaging Michael’s cock. The sore and overly full feeling ebbed away under her touch. “I will do it. If it’s the only thing I can do to protect her, I will,” he said, closing his eyes against the beautiful sensation growing inside his balls. His cock was growing stiff and hard, naturally, not by magical means, and it felt wonderful. He no longer felt that he needed to cum, but that he was about to, an orgasm building up, about to get the release he sought.“Good. I will reward you for helping me. Every time my cousins visit you, I will ease your pain,” she said, rolling onto her side. She grasped his cock and began to lightly stroke it, up and down. “Their power pales in comparison to mine.” Kythaela bent over Michael and took the head of his dick in her mouth. She gently sucked on the tip, flicking her tongue on the underside. Her long hair fell around her face, flowing over her shoulders and down onto Michael’s thighs and abdomen. He arched his back and thrust up, deep into Kythaela’s mouth. She took as much of his length as possible down her throat, his cock had swollen to the largest it had ever been. Kythaela rolled up on her knees, squatting beside Michael, now taking his full length, mashing her lips and face against his pelvis. She continued to caress the muscles of his chest with her right hand, while she massaged his balls with her other. The feeling of warmth flowed throughout him, filling every part of his being. He wanted so desperately to cum, to feel that release he was so often denied, but he also did not want her touch to cease, and it would, when he came. She pulled back, trailing saliva from the tip of her tongue to the head of his swollen cock. Kythaela climbed over his legs and positioned herself above him, grasping his dick with one hand, guiding it into her waiting, wet sex. She slid him in easily, settling herself on his hips. He moaned, and grasped her hips, dug his fingers into her skin, clutching her as if she was his only hold on sanity or life. Kythaela leaned forward, resting her palms on his pectoral muscles, and lifted her hips, pulling him out of her slightly. Rocking her hips up and down, her guiding his dick into and out of her elicited his moans and grunts. She moved slowly at first, not wanting him to get off too quickly, but sped up as he got into a rhythm with her movements. “Mistress, may I come,” Michael said out of instinct.“I am not now or will I ever be your mistress,” Kythaela said. At her words, he thrust up into her while pushing her down on his dick with his hands on her hips, and released his semen inside her. For minutes, his dick quivered as he released what must have been building up in his testicles and causing him such pain. As he came, his seed started pouring out of her pussy, making soft squishing noises as he thrust up into her with every convulsion. Kythaela, sensing he was finished, climbed off of him and turned around, positioning her pussy above his face, dripping their combined juices on him. “Let’s clean each other up, shall we?” she asked, spreading her legs and pushing her pussy onto his face. She bent over and began licking the hot seed from his quickly softening dick. Michael began to lick at her pussy, pushing his tongue into it so that their nectar ran over his face and into his mouth, swallowing it. Kythaela tasted like nothing he could explain. His seed made her taste slightly salty, but she seemed to be gushing out the pure essence of sex. He lapped at her, not wanting to miss any of her precious vitae. Michael wrapped his lips around her clit, and began working his tongue back and forth, flicking at it quickly before burying his face and mouth into her vagina. Kythaela quivered as she worked his cock with her mouth. She lifted it with her hand and ran her tongue up and down its length, cleaning the cum off of him. Using her finger, she scooped it off of his stomach and popped it into her mouth. Michael could tell she was close to orgasm, and he desperately wanted to pleasure her after what she had done for him. He brought his hand up and felt for her asshole. Every part of her was soaking wet and he had no problem pushing the tip of his finger into her rear hole. Michael tried to tease her at first, but she rocked her hips back and forth, sliding his finger in and out by herself, while rubbing her pussy on his mouth.Kythaela came hard, pussy and asshole clenching, pushing out more of their cum onto his face. She dug her finger nails into the soft skin of his upper thighs, drawing little lines of blood from small cuts, as she rode the waves of pleasure that were washing over her. As her orgasm receded, she sank down, laying her head on Michael’s legs, resting her face next to his limp, but still large cock. Her breath came fast and her heart was racing. When she recovered, she took his dick in her hands and kissed it. He shuddered. She rolled off of him, standing on the floor next to the altar. “Rest, my hero. You will need your strength in the coming days,” she said, taking his head in her hands, bending down and kissing him on the forehead. As she turned to leave, he was already asleep. It was the first time in a long time that he had actually rested and pleasant dreams of Ariella and Kythaela filled the darkness.