C/W for: non-consensual bondage and machine cock milking, machine anal penetration, abduction, gagging and blindfolding, electrotorture, foot fetish, public humiliation, mild (non-graphic) violence.
Disclaimer: the events depicted in this story are purely fantasy. The author does not support any non-consensual acts between real people.
Often, magnanimous choices were the ones with the most dire consequences. For Polaris, those “consequences” involved being dragged blindfolded and gagged through some dank, unknown corridor towards an equally-unknown destination by two strong, likewise-unknown captors.
That was too many unknowns.
Polaris wanted nothing more than to break free from the pair of hands gripping his wrists, to rip the blindfold from his eyes and the foul-smelling gag from his mouth and demand that his assailants answer for their abduction of him. However, despite the constant and enormous effort he poured into powering his muscles, he could not bring his body to move an inch. His knowledge of mysticism afforded him a quick explanation: a paralysis spell, and a quite powerful one at that, to hold someone like him for so long.
And long it had been – he estimated at least 30 minutes, since his attackers first captured him. Now, as his heavy armor clanked against the floor, occasionally catching on a crack or divot and prompting his carriers to violently jerk him along, his racing mind continually replayed the incident.
It happened just outside Pelinal’s Academy Hospital, the restoration-magic-focused building on the northern edge of campus grounds. Though affiliated with the Academy, the Hospital was open to all for free healing, serving as both a means of training new healers and providing healthcare to locals and visitors from far and wide.
Polaris, as a Paladin in training, had just finished a 14-hour shift of near-nonstop healing, having been pulled from floor to floor all day to work his restoration magic on more people than he could count. Although his shift technically only lasted 8 hours, Polaris did not like leaving anyone without treatment, so his days often stretched far longer than the 8. Moreover, since his healing abilities were unnaturally powerful – more so than even the most practiced scholars of the Academy – his presence was highly sought.
Polaris did not believe he was anything special nor find his magic to be particularly potent, but he could not deny anyone in need. Besides, he loved the work, the work of restoring life and vitality to those who, for one reason or another, risked losing it forever. Not for the grateful looks or the awed faces at others seeing his magic work. He would rather not have the attention at all. But seeing the hope, the joy, the life return not only to the patient, but to the whole family – that was all the motivation he needed. More than anything in his life, he loved helping his patients.
That night, he was walking an older couple to their car, a skinny red fox and his newly-healed husband, a brown-furred wolf. Since the fox could not effectively support his much larger husband, Polaris, who towered over both of them, had offered to do so. It was a pleasantly warm evening, the smell of nearby blooming honeysuckle and peonies giving the air an equally pleasant scent. A tranquil silence settled over the night, broken only by the drone of insects and the light chatter of his two charges talking among themselves.
Slowly making their way through the parking lot, they were just about to the vehicle when the wolf’s nose suddenly twitched. Polaris recognized the preconscious warning, and the guardian side of his Paladin training kicked in as his free hand snapped to the shield on his armored back over his cloak. Another second, and the air was filled with the sharp clangor of metal on metal as his shield deflected an incoming sword.
The couple screamed when they realized they were under attack. Polaris, one arm still supporting the fox, yelled, “Go, they shall not harm you!” They doubled their pace toward the car; it was just a few yards away now. Behind his helmet, Polaris’ eyes scanned the darkness for the blade that had nearly pierced his shoulder, but he could make out nothing of the sort now.
Then, just as the couple were about to reach the car, Polaris suddenly felt something tighten around his armored ankle, followed immediately by a powerful force yanking him backward, hard. If he had not been supporting the wolf with one arm, he would have been able to keep his footing, but with his stance thusly compromised, Polaris found himself tumbling to the ground, the wide-eyed wolf falling out of his grip to thankfully land against the door of the car, unharmed. At the same time, the impact of falling knocked the shield out of Polaris’ hand, where it rolled a few feet out of reach of his gauntlet.
Now on the ground, Polaris had barely a moment to make a crucial decision. He could move for his shield and stand up to face his aggressor, but that would leave the pair of civilians completely defenseless for a precious second. Alternatively, he could pour his magic into powering a ward around the two, which would ensure their safety until they were able to get in the car and drive away. Of course, doing so would leave Polaris himself defenseless.
Yet, it was not much of a choice for him. “Escape from here, as quickly as you can!” he growled. His palm glowed before exploding with a bright red energy that enveloped the wolf and his husband, protecting them as they leapt into their car and fumbled over the ignition before turning the key and bringing the vehicle roaring to life. With a final, terrified glance back at Polaris, who waved them on emphatically, they tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.
The Paladin kept the ward up until their car was well out of sight. When he finally released it, he felt his head spinning from the fall and the intense magic strain he had just put on his mind. Coupled with the long day of healing, he did not think he would be casting any more spells for some hours.
Which was not good, considering a boot was now stepping on his outstretched wrist reaching for his shield.
Grunting from the painful pressure still discernible through his gauntlet, Polaris tried to swing his legs around to kick at his attacker. He did not carry a weapon on him; all he had was his martial prowess with which to defend himself now. But before he could even move his feet, a pair of strong hands gripped his ankles tightly, holding him down to the pavement. He reflexively pushed back, managing to throw off the assailant from his legs through his sheer strength. His reward, though, was a hard kick to the helmet from the other one standing on his arm. The impact sent stars across his vision before the other boot came down to crush his free hand as well.
“Damn it, this one’s a fighter!” a voice growled above him. Male, and gruff-sounding.
“Just keep holding him down and use the fucking spell already!” the other barked, also a male, this one with a distinctly higher voice.
Polaris still had not glimpsed any faces or otherwise defining characteristics of either of the two men assaulting him, and he could barely focus between his exhaustion and the pain from the attacks he had already suffered. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded loudly, still struggling to stand by kicking his feet blindly behind him. “Who are you and what is your purpose?” Perhaps if he made enough noise, one of the night guards would hear and come to his aid….
Before he could do anything more, though, a terrible feeling suddenly washed over him, cold and foreign. It spread from his head down to his toes within a second. Magic . Immediately, not by any will of his own, his movement ceased. All the fight drained out of his body, which now relaxed limply on the concrete. No! Polaris thought. He could not even move his mouth to talk or yell. His heart raced as he realized what had happened. No, fight this, do not succumb to this!
The deeper-voiced male sounded satisfied as he gave Polaris another hard kick to the head. No sound escaped the knight; he could only lay there in mute pain. “Finally. Now stay down and shut up, tin can. It’s over.”
Bootsteps sounded next to Polaris as the other walked up to his accomplice. “Took ya long enough. Boss didn’t mention he’d be this big.”
“Or this public. Come on, let’s get him in the van and get to the dropoff. We’re already pushing our luck.”
Boss? Van? Dropoff? What was going on? And why in the world was he suddenly the subject of these orders? From the way his patients had been allowed to escape seemingly unpursued, it appeared to Polaris that the target of this attack had not been them, but rather, him .
That was worrisome.
His attackers grunted as they pulled the Paladin to his knees, putting great strain on his arms and shoulders with the manner in which they ungracefully dragged him along. His helmeted head dangled down toward his chest, so all he could see through the eyeholes was the concrete moving below him. The entire time, he tried with all his might to move his hands, his feet, anything , but it was futile. The paralysis spell was strong.
Very strong, he realized. To hold someone as large as him fully incapacitated for more than just a few seconds, it would require days to charge up such a spell. From the sound of it, his attackers had not been the ones to actually create it; he did not sense very strong magic from their bodies. They were clearly mercenaries of sorts – but working for whom?
He felt a jolt of pain as the two captors grunted and lifted Polaris up into what felt to be a small metal interior. The back of a van, he guessed. Was he truly being abducted by these men? The thought sent a mixture of fear and anger through him. He had patients who were counting on his care, he could not afford to be taken away, whatever the purpose!
Perhaps he should have been thinking more of himself, though. His altruism never was particularly healthy.
“Fuck, this is one heavy hunk of metal!”
“Quit bitching and get ‘im in before we’re busted!”
Polaris felt one pair of hands lowering him quickly and painfully to the floor of the vehicle. They left him with his head leaning against the side, so he could actually catch a glimpse of the two attackers standing silhouetted against the back door of the van. They were both wolves, clad in dark leather, though one appeared to be a whole head taller and a fair deal more muscular than the other. Both had light gray fur, almost white, common among northerners.
As Polaris took in their appearances, trying to memorize as many details as he could, he saw the skinny wolf mutter something to the taller one. Then, the latter was kneeling right in front of Polaris, holding something in his hand.
“Since you were so cooperative earlier, consider this a little gift from us. Call it insurance, in case Boss’s spell ain’t what he cracked it up to be.”
Before Polaris could even process what was happening, he felt his helmet being ripped off, exposing his onyx-colored draconic visage to the faces of his two aggressors. A rush of dread filled him. He never took off his helmet in front of others; most people feared dragons, and he did not care for the looks of hatred and prejudice he used to receive. The Academy claimed to be a safe space for all to study, but he knew words were easier to control than people. It was better, he thought, to err on the side of safety, to hide his nature behind a barrier of metal.
Now, though, that barrier had just been ripped clean off his head. He could only watch in silent horror as the two aggressors exchanged a look of surprise, before the bigger wolf turned back to him with a sinister-looking smile. “Well, Boss also forgot to mention our target was a filthy lizard.” He snorted. “Makes me feel a lot better about what’s coming to this fucker. World’ll be a better place without scum like you stinking it up.”
Polaris felt the old feelings of self-loathing come rushing back upon hearing those words. Yet, even if he wanted to, he could do or say nothing to defend himself. His bright red eyes stared sadly ahead at his captors.
“Yeah, yeah, save your self-righteous crap and put the fucking gear on ‘im already,” the short wolf interrupted, tapping his boot against the floor of the van impatiently.
The big wolf just smiled wider. “My pleasure. Open wide, lizard.” Polaris had no time – or ability – to react as his assailant opened up his jaws with one hand and pushed a big, cloth gag deep into his throat, before wrapping it tightly around his muzzle with practiced speed. The taste of mildew and something rotten filled his mouth, and even his breaths, the one action that had been unimpeded by the spell, were difficult now. No! he wanted to shout, and spit out the horrid instrument, and slam the helmet back on his face before running far away from these terrible people.
Of course, he could do nothing but watch as the wolf finished tying the gag, looking extremely satisfied with his work. “There we go. Nice filthy gag for a nice filthy beast.” His expression suddenly changed slightly, though Polaris was not sure to what. “You sure we don’t have a few minutes to kill here? He’s actually a handsome fucker… for a lizard.” The wolf traced a finger down his breastplate, coming to rest over his crotchplate, and Polaris mentally tensed. “I think we could have a little fun .”
That last word sent Polaris’ heart racing in fear, and he threw all his might into trying to move his body. No, no no no! Of course, his muscles did not budge. The wolf’s grip down there tightened, and he licked his lips in hunger. Gods above, please, no!
“Absolutely not,” the other wolf said, crossing his arms. “We have to go now . Besides, Boss’ll kill us both if you use him first.”
The wolf looked disappointed as he sighed and removed his hand, for which Polaris was intensely relieved. “Always a buzzkill. Fine, you’re right.” He met Polaris’ eyes one last time to grin and say, “Goodnight for now, lizard; we’ll see you soon.” Then, a blindfold was pressed over his eyes and tied behind his head, and Polaris was left to stew in his self-disappointment and apprehension of what was in store for him as he felt the vehicle’s engine come to life around him and take off.
He did his best to memorize the turns and estimate the miles as they drove, but all the thoughts running through his head were making it hard to concentrate. He kept coming back to this “Boss”; who were they, and what did they want with Polaris? Was this an enemy of his? He did not think he had any, as he tried to be good to everyone, but maybe someone had discovered his identity as a dragon. It could be a hate abduction. But then, why not tell the mercenaries about what he was beforehand?
It just made no sense, and before he knew it, the van had already stopped and the engine was killed.
A few minutes of being dragged down hallways later, and he was in his present predicament: paralyzed, gagged, and blindfolded, with no idea where he was or what was in store for him. Though, he would soon discover that the reality of his situation was far worse than he could have imagined.
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