"Do you know why all these people are here?"
Damon weakly raised his eyes to his tormentor, who was sitting in a velvet-cushioned armchair in front of him. Tyrell waved to the denizens of the laboratory below, whose pathetic moans and whimpers could be heard even from this far away. His green eyes were fixed on a tome he was reading, putting on a disinterested air. Damon knew he was anything but. He didn't answer Tyrell, mainly because he was currently being subjected to the latest iteration of the choke horse.
Given everything his ass had been put through a few hours earlier, the buttplug was swapped out for a slightly smaller one—though not by much. It hardly mattered when Tyrell activated something and a faint, constant pulse had overtaken his ass from the inside. By some work of magic or dwarven engineering, he had installed a vibrating plug on this hellish machine—a device that was steadily driving Damon insane with its inconsistent rhythms and intensity. More than once, he'd drifted close to orgasm only to have it yanked from him when it calmed. If this was intentional on Tyrell's part, it certainly produced a massive amount of drool with which to polish his cock.
The strange, U-shaped metal clip had seemed an odd choice to replace the ball-crushing mallet head of the last choke horse. That was, until Tyrell had pulled a cable linked to the horse, and the hinge in the center of the clip made the metallic walls collapse around his nuts. Tyrell had been careful not to crush them outright, only really tightening it if his fucktoy stopped sucking him off. Instead, there was a constant minimal pressure, enough to hold onto his balls and make every forward lean painful as they were stretched away from his body.
Nevertheless, between his vulnerability and the periodic tugs of his leash reminding him of his position, Damon found himself dripping more often than he cared to admit. Especially so when his mind drifted back to the events of a few hours prior. He'd been so thoroughly fucked, in more ways and positions than he could've imagined, to the point where thinking was all but an impossible task. Tyrell had, within the space of an hour, regressed him to his old mentality, to a humble pet of the Templars, subject to their every whim and perversion. All thanks to a vulnerability he still hated to admit: part of him had always loved being a toy.
The freedom in surrendering to the power of his captors, the ability to worry about nothing except the pleasure of his owner...Damon could no longer deny the allure of such a life. Years he'd spent conditioning himself not to instinctively respond like a dog whenever a Templar issued an order. Years he'd worked to harden his spine and sharpen his teeth so he could never be made a slave again. Labors it had taken Tyrell mere hours to undo. This was why he'd been so afraid in Tyrell's office, why he'd hesitated and trembled when he was given the offer. Deep down, he knew how easily he could fall again, how easily he could break if pushed just right.
And he had
broken
.
Having his own cum fed to him was nothing new, but getting his ass creampied with his own emissions was a fresh humiliation he had not expected to be so potent. Tyrell had gotten everything he wanted from Damon, ripped it from him like a brute, and worst of all, made him
love
it. Distantly, he wondered if the Templar would still keep his word and release him after one day, or take advantage of the situation to make Damon a permanent addition to his toy collection. Surely Cassandra and the others would eventually realize something was wrong and come to find him...
But what would he say when they did? How could he even look her in the eye after this? Contrary to what he kept telling himself, nobody had forced him into this deal, no one had forced him to submit to this sadist and sell his body for the artifact. Weeks he'd gone without making love to Cass, whether due to excessive stress or sheer exhaustion, and now his first coitus since was with a man? A man he'd as much as told her he hated—and he had
enjoyed
every second.
Damon was rudely yanked from his thoughts by a sharp tug on his leash and Tyrell's cock lodging deep in his throat. Damon choked and gagged and stared up at him pleadingly.
Tyrell's eyes were still fixed on his book. "Every one of them is a mage," he said. "Even the damned qunari. Was one hell of a time making
that
acquisition, let me assure you. But so worth it."
Right as Damon's eyes began fluttering, Tyrell let him breathe, though he never removed his cock from Damon's mouth.
"See, I had this theory back at the Tower, one that I tested with you and a few others. A theory that necessitated many, many mage subjects to confirm. I didn't quite get a breakthrough until I got my hands on you." He somewhat gently grasped Damon's hair and tugged his head back and forth on his dick. "I wanted to double-check my findings, but I had to save enough to buy you off Gennair again. Sadly, the Tower fell long before that day came." He tugged harder, roughly bobbing Damon's head on his cock and forcing it in deep. "And I was forced to resort to..." he grunted and thrust in to the root, "lesser subjects."
Damon's muffled moans rippled around Tyrell's pulsing cock as he felt cum splash down his throat.
"Took me years to get back on track." Tyrell pulled back just enough to let him breathe, then twisted the clamps tight around his balls and watched him squirm. "See, I surmised that the reason Blood Magic makes mages so powerful is a channel of raw lyrium in their fluids. Blood, being among the primary and most concentrated of these fluids, contains a highly volatile type, not dissimilar to the primeval red lyrium known for driving people mad. But what if there were another fluid which contained lyrium?"
Damon's eyes widened slightly, though he remained silent for the cock pushing against his tonsils.
"Lyrium in the reproductive system would certainly explain a few things, not least of which the excessive libido and quick refraction period enjoyed by nearly every Templar and mage. It wasn't until
you
that I found a notable reaction to backfeeding cum. Don't get me wrong; you were always talented, but not exceptionally powerful. And now? Well, I think we both know it's a different story now."
Damon felt a pressure on his chest as something was pulled and held, remembering too late that Tyrell had clamped his nipples and linked them with a chain. He whimpered and gasped around Tyrell's dick.
"Thanks to those people down there, I finally got a viable process for extracting this lyrium and providing a steady source for my Templars. But more than that, I discovered hidden properties created by the interaction between seed and lyrium—mutagenic properties."
Tyrell leaned forward in his seat, plunging his cock in to the hilt and keeping it there until Damon met his eyes with a pleading look. Then he smirked and withdrew, walking off toward the desk he kept in this private chamber. Damon gasped and hacked for air, restraining whimpers at the grip still clenching his balls and the chains tugging on his nipples.
"See, every mage has the capacity for transformation—it's how demons turn them into abominations, and some mages can shapeshift into numerous beasts."
A few things rattled from behind Damon. He didn't bother trying to look, since it would only tug on his balls more.
"But most of these transformations are extremely drastic or damaging, or both. What if we could find a way around that? A way to let it interact with a mage's body more naturally, as if simply activating a new limb?"
Tyrell finally released the clamp around Damon's balls, untying him from the horse and gently hoisting him upright. Damon groaned at the buttplug's exit, shuddering at the faint splash of lube that splattered his thighs. Tyrell was still smirking as he led Damon to the X-cross and shackled him to it, spread out like a display ornament.
"That," Tyrell whispered, "is what
this
is for."
He held up a small syringe in Damon's eyeline. It was then that he felt alarm shudder through him and started tugging on his bonds. He stuttered and lisped around the ring gag in his mouth, trying to protest, but the look in Tyrell's eyes was implacable.
"Imagine, being able to transform your body at will, tweak even the most minor of details." Slowly, Tyrell wiped off a section of Damon's arm and pressed the needle to his skin. "To change your hair, your build, your race—" a smirk played over his lips, "—cock size." His smile widened. "Even your own sex."
Damon's violet eyes widened dramatically as he moaned and squirmed. The needle pierced his skin, and Tyrell's thumb depressed the plunger, slowly injecting its contents.
"To become
anyone
at the snap of your fingers. That is my gift to you, Inquisitor—the capability to infiltrate the courts of all your enemies or acquire a new friend using a face you could not otherwise bring to bear."
Damon panted and breathed heavily, feeling the serum spread through his system like a numbing heat, making him woozy and breathless with each heartbeat.
