Garrison Fawkes’ POV

“I’ve never fed. Physically,” said Uriel. 

My mind halted. What did that mean? Was Uriel a virgin? But how? They were so old—I was assuming a few hundred at least—and they looked like that! “Why not?” I choked out.

“I did not need to, so I did not want to.”

I cleared my throat lightly. “And now?” 

“Now I wish these were better circumstances.”

Uriel’s hands were clasped in their lap. I took them in mine. “Will you let me then?”

They shake their head. “I don’t want to hurt you. I am too…hungry.”

“What if I touched myself for you?”

Uriel tried to pull away with a frown. “Garrison, stop. You don’t have to. It wouldn’t be enough; it would be mere rations compared to what I need. Don’t waste your energy.”

“Then let me do this for you and take me when your control returns. We have time.”

I waited then, for their reply. It felt like decades had passed when only minutes had. “Yes,” they agreed.

Carefully, I knelt before them on the bed. Uriel was sat up against the pillows, watching me as I loosened the buttons of my shirt. The half-veil, as always, prevented me from looking into their eyes. 

Nothing I did or could do would have stopped the full-body blush spreading from my chest to my neck. I bit my lip as I unlaced my breeches. Being stared at so unwaveringly as I touched myself in pleasure was either embarrassing or arousing. I couldn’t decide. 

But I had to. Uriel needed me. I ignored the part of me that said Uriel didn’t need me that much and that I wanted this, had practically begged for it. Already, I was half hard from being looked at. I took myself in hand and brought myself to fullness with a few strokes. 

It was a good thing I wasn’t standing. My thighs trembled as I rubbed the cock jutting proudly from my lap, unable to hide the tiny moans in my throat. 

I had not properly removed my shirt, leaving it unbuttoned but still loosely covering my body except for the sliver of skin in the middle where the fabric was parted. But my movements had caused one side to slip off my shoulder, exposing half my chest to Uriel. 

“Touch yourself,” instructed Uriel. “Show me.”

I couldn’t help the quiet whine when I did as told. One hand on my cock, the other rubbing at my nipple until it was red and puffy. “Uriel,” I gasped. 

“Do you want to come?” they asked. “You do, don’t you?” Uriel remarked. “But you won’t until I say so, isn’t that right, Captain?”

It was then I remembered that they could hear my thoughts. Everything they said, I had not realised I wanted. “Yes, please,” I moaned breathily. I’d do anything they told me to.

“Come then,” they said like they were granting me a favour. In some way, Uriel was, and the permission granted burned through my body as I painted the sheets with ropes of cum.

I was still breathing hard when I looked up at Uriel. “How do you feel?” I asked. Did it work? Or had I just humiliated myself?

Cautiously they studied me. “I feel fine. How do you feel? Tired?” 

“Not more than usual,” I answered truthfully. If Uriel had drained any energy, I could not feel it.

“Remove your pants and come here,” they beckoned. 

Flushing, I did as told, crawling over until I was hovering uncertainly over the black lace covering their legs. Uriel pulled their skirt up. My jaw dropped. “Can you take this?” they asked. 

Mouth dried, I answered. “I-I will need to be stretched.”

“Stretch yourself then. There’s oil there.” 

It was cruel how they could command me so unaffectedly while I felt like a fumbling virgin. Still, I coated my fingers and pushed them into my own body, eager to ready myself for the truly monstrous girth between Uriel’s legs. 

My legs were already weak from the earlier orgasm, and I couldn’t quite balance with one hand behind as I prepped myself. Everything about Uriel made me feel off-balance. I fell forward, eyes widening when their hand came up to cup my exposed chest, thumb brushing my abused nipple. Uriel squeezed. 

I whimpered. Their hand had the dual benefit of teasing me while holding me steady. My length had stiffened once more, dripping and aching for touch. “You are ready,” they pronounced. 

Was I? I had barely gotten four fingers in. Wide-eyed, I looked at Uriel.

“Do you trust me?” they murmured, leaning forward so that their lips were whispering warmly into my ear. I nodded. “Good.” Uriel’s hands moved to my waist. “Have a seat, Captain.”

All feeling narrowed down to the press of the heated thickness into my body. Vaguely, I could hear coaxing and cooing praises as I sank, jaw slack, onto Uriel. It didn’t feel painful, but there was a very, very uncomfortably thick cock in me. My chest heaved, body feeling like it was going into shock, like it couldn’t decide whether to breathe or throw up. 

“You’re okay, Garrison,” Uriel rubbed my flanks warmly as I panted shallowly from the fullness, a faint sheen of tears in my eyes. “It’s alright.” 

We stayed that way until my stomach didn’t cramp, and the discomfort turned to pleasure. Uriel had distracted me from the hurt by touching my cock, tracing teasing lines from my chest to my neck and sucking wet kisses under my jaw as I clutched desperately at the black lace of their shirt. It helped. 

The top few buttons had burst under my uncontrolled grabbing and a pale triangle of skin shone through tantalisingly. I wanted more.

It was hard to move though, speared through with a bluntness that shouldn’t have felt so good. My knees shook when I lifted myself only mere inches before they buckled, and I collapsed back on Uriel’s cock with a cry. The fat head nudging as deep as it could go in my overstretched chamber.

I tried again. Uriel added more oil. Movement grew easier as the friction lessened. Soon, I was bouncing in their lap and moaning like the best-paid whore in the land as they squeezed and touched every part of my body they could grab. 

“More, please,” I begged. “I need—I need—” I couldn’t even finish my sentences, but Uriel was already slamming my hips downwards the way I wanted them to, cock rubbing endless and insistent on the almond-sized bundle of nerves. They were so thick that there was no reprieve from the stimulation. I screamed; chin tipped up as I hollered my pleasure into the chamber ceilings. The cotton of my shirt was soaked with sweat.

But I couldn’t climax yet. There was one more thing I needed from Uriel before I could let go. 

“Uriel,” I gasped through the vigorous exercise. “I can’t—”

“Yes,” they cut me off. “You can.”

Swallowing my pleas, I did. I kept going, moaning and crying as they thrust viciously. 

Just as I was about to beg for mercy again, “Come,” they commanded. It was as though I had lost control. My body was simply a vessel for the pleasure crashing through it as I jerked and convulsed from the force of my gratification.

Pleasure abated and I was tired. I was so tired now. My eyes slid shut and I fell forward, too exhausted to even flinch as Uriel’s cock slipped from the clutch of my loosened muscles. Dimly, there were snatches of consciousness; my body being shifted and wiped and someone pulling me close before I truly fell into the darkness of sleep.