The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

Blinded, he lost track of time, but it seemed like a couple of days have passed. Kors tried to determine the time of day by the loud bird that whistled outside the window only in the morning. Nik didn’t call Verniy, but he took Kors to the bathroom and toilet. He pulled him by the chain, and Kors followed him on all fours, or if Nik was too lazy to get out of bed, he would give Kors a bottle to empty himself. From time to time, Nik made for him the sweet drink of the unclean ones, gave him wine and gave Kors injections. He took care of his natural needs, yes, not too diligently, one might say, so-so, but he did so not out of malice, but simply because he himself was messy and stupid. Nik couldn’t take care of himself properly either. Kors knew his nature too well and was grateful to Nik just for this little thing, realizing that Nik himself was sincerely sure that he was taking good care of Kors. But time passed, and Nik still didn’t release him and didn’t let him go anywhere. Kors obeyed them implicitly. It was hard for him, but he endured, not asking for indulgence. He believed that sooner or later it would end, because they couldn’t stay in this house, in this room forever. On the one hand, they tormented and limited him, and on the other hand, they gave him incredible sensations of pleasure from their caresses. Crazy orgasms overcame all the torment, Kors felt that if Nik told him now, as he once told Arel: “I allow you to come”, Kors would come. He would have come just from his word.

One day, when Kors was lying on his bed, trying not to move, so that the stick inside would not bite into his insides more, and “his boys” were resting on the bed, he heard Nik call out to him in a low voice:

“Vitor?”

Kors slightly raised his head, turning his face in his direction. He didn’t have the strength to get up and sit down.

He heard Nik get off the bed and sit down next to him.

“Vitor, well, try…”

Kors felt the gentle touch of his lips on his own ones, no longer covered with bandages. Kors felt his soft, always so sweet, as if slightly capriciously poutedlower lip, and the metal of the rings in it. He choked with happiness and the pleasure that flooded over him, answered with all the passion and dared to timidly touch Nik’s face, his scarred cheek, not feeling the usual crack and unevenness of dead skin under his fingers. Kors’ heart pounded wildly. He realized that the treatment, his treatment helped, and Nik was no longer disfigured! How Kors wanted to see him now! To confirm his feelings, he quickly ran his fingers under Nik’s bangs, across her forehead, feeling only smooth skin. And, since Nik didn’t push him away, Kors grew bolder and began feverishly stroking his face with his hands, feeling, bumping only into the piercing in his nose and lip, but no longer feeling the dent from the scar. He wanted to scream and cry with happiness, but Nik forbade him to talk. And, although his tongue was not limited by anything, like Arel’s one in the past, Kors was very obedient without restrictions and screamed only in his thoughts and never aloud. Nik let him stroke his face, he didn’t let him see him, but he let him touch him. Kors began to pull Nik towards him, simultaneously spreading his legs. He wanted Nik to pull the stick out of him and stick his cock in, alive and warm. Nik succumbed, pulled a dildo out of Kors and began to fuck him. With the same passion as Kors gave himself to him, Nik took him. Breathing heavily, he moaned, sometimes his singas he was getting completely carried away. Kors imagined his face, remembering it as handsome as it had been in the Limit. He clung to him, hugging him, and Nik smelled so sweet of death, and even stronger than before. Kors howled and whimpered, it seemed to him that not only sperm would now spring out of him, but all his insides, all his essence, everything would break out of him, from his physical body, through this small hole. He was literally twisting and bursting, it seemed that his cock would not withstand such tension and would burst, tear to shreds, and all of it would splash out on Nik, and, mixed with him, would return back to Kors with incredible pleasure when Nik, hissing, came into him. It was a unity of nonhumans. And after that, Kors felt like had died, left his physical shell, devastated it and gave everything to the Demon to the last drop, and then returned back, filled again, but already with something different, with an alien admixture. And it was fine, and all the humiliations no longer mattered.