The Alchemist

It was a slow day in the shop when the slave walked in, clutching an envelope and looking uncertain. Estren looked up from his logbook, grinning at his customer with as many teeth as he could. It tended to put people off, and judging by the widening of the slave's eyes, it was working. "What can I do for you today?" he asked, beckoning him closer to the counter. "On an errand for your master?"

"Ah, yes, I..." The slave's speech was hesitant, as were his footsteps. In the lanternlight closer to his counter, Estren could see him better now--a half-demon slave, with elegantly curled horns and a violet tinge to his pale skin, throat interrupted by a black leather collar. "She, she said to..." Flustered, perhaps by Estren's overly wide smile, he handed over the envelope.

Estren took it and opened it, leaning closer to his lantern to read the letter within. His eyebrows raised, and he glanced inside the envelope once more per the letter's instructions. In there lay a small silver key.

"Tell me your name, boy," Estren said, folding the letter and removing the key.

The slave swallowed, the collar around his throat bobbing with the action. "Cloé, sir."

"Cloé, Cloé." He nodded. "Give me just a moment to lock up. Your mistress doesn't want you to be gone too long, I assume."

He walked out from behind the counter and to the front door, flipping the window sign to say "CLOSED" before turning the deadbolt. He drew the shades down a bit over the display windows, then beckoned to the slave once more. Obediently, Cloé followed him into the back room.

"Clothes off," Estren instructed, starting to pull out the vials and other tools he'd need. "Fold them neatly, put them on the stool by the door." He didn't turn to watch, but the shuffling of cloth and footsteps told him the slave was obeying. "When is the last time your mistress let you come, Cloé?"

The tight little gasp is what made Estren turn to look, a deep blush creeping up the slave's face. "T--two months ago," he admitted, hesitant as he pulled down his breeches and underclothes to reveal the silver cage wrapped around his cock.

Two months! This batch was going to be very potent indeed. Estren made a note to label it as such and price it accordingly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the slave delicately place his folded clothes, shoes on top, onto the stool. "Good boy," he praised. "Go sit in the metal chair next to the worktable."

Estren finished his preparations without checking on the slave, imagining that he was squirming; it wasn't the most comfortable of chairs, with only half of a seat, but it was the best for harvesting pent-seed from, giving the alchemist easier access to the subject's prostate to milk as much as he could. He stacked up vials and the enchanted wooden massager onto a tray and carried them to the worktable.

"Now, sweet Cloé," he said, putting the tray down and holding up the little silver key. "Your mistress is being very generous and letting me harvest from you without payment. I expect you to behave for me--this means no begging or whining."

"Yes, sir," the slave said meekly, his crimson, slitted eyes focused on the key. Estren smiled and reached down, running his finger along the bottom edge of the collar before starting to strap him in. Leather went over wrists and ankles, securing the slave in a manner that would not result in injury if he had to squirm--and squirm he probably would.

Estren always thought it was cute when they squirmed, even the willing donors.

He knelt between the slave's spread legs, reaching up to free his cock from the chastity cage. He turned the key in the little padlock, removed that, then worked the cage off carefully, not wanting any cuts or scratches to result in an impure ingredient or angry owner. He heard the slave gasp with relief when it was off, indents clear on the sensitive skin. He started massaging the organ, watching it twitch and engorge as it was allowed to breathe and expand for the first time in two months. That same dark blush crept up to the tip as it began to harden and grow; the tiny gasps and moans coming from the slave told him how desperate he had been for freedom, as well as how desperate he was to be good and not beg.

"Does your mistress know you make such cute noises?" Estren asked, continuing to gently work the slave's cock in his hand, switching from massage to stroking its increasing length.

"She, she does, sir," the slave answered promptly, voice breathy. "L-likes it when--hnn!--when I--"

Estren looked up, noting that the slave had quite lost his composure, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he panted and moaned. Well, he couldn't blame the boy. Two months without touching his cock, and Estren was sure he'd go crazy. Just listening to the noises this slave was making was making his trousers tight in the crotch. "You're adorable," he cooed, leaning forward to wrap his mouth around the now erect cock.

It was hot against his lips and tongue, but not unpleasantly so; an effect of the demon blood in the slave's veins, no doubt. Estren gently suckled on the cock, running his tongue up and down the ridge on its underside. The moans above him had risen in pitch, the slave desperately aroused and thrusting his hips forward and back in an effort to get more friction. If he just wanted to do this for his own pleasure, Estren would have kept going--but this was for the noble pursuit of alchemy.

He slid himself up off the slave's cock, his tongue lingering for a moment and leaving a thin string of precum and saliva as he moved back and looked up at the slave. His eyes were slits, teeth showing as he bit down on his lower lip in a clear effort to keep from begging.

"Good," Estren said again, wiping the fluids from his lips and standing. "Very good, Cloé. But we've got more work to do than that."

Not giving the slave a chance to recover, Estren stood and picked up the massager and a bottle of oil. He moved around behind the chair and knelt once again, then coated two fingers in the oil. He leaned in and was pleased to see the slave's hole already twitching, craving to be filled. No reason not to give it what it wanted. He reached up and probed at the entrance, smiling at the startled gasp and at how easily his fingers slid inside. He worked his fingers against the slave's walls, pushing in far enough to find the prostate. He pressed on the little nub and was pleased to hear the slave moan and feel him press back against his fingers.

"Not yet, Cloé," he chided, backing his fingers out a bit to continue lubricating his walls. Another soft moan was all the response he got as he withdrew. He wondered briefly if the slave had even been allowed to finger himself in chastity, but from the way he was acting like a bitch in heat, he doubted it.

The massager got a helping of the oil next, and Estren worked it over to ensure an even coating. He pressed it against the slave's entrance, watching it slide in easily and catch on the wide base. He wiggled it around a bit til he got that same needy moan and backwards thrust as he hit that sweet spot. "Does that feel good, Cloé?"

The slave moaned and nodded. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, sir, it feels so good."

Estren hummed, pleased with the answer, and he activated the rune on the massager's base. The wooden tool warmed and began to animate, the tip shifting forward and back against the slave's prostate. His moans and whimpers began anew, high in pitch and near breathless. Estren made sure the massager would stay in place without his hand and stood, walking back around to watch him writhe.

The slave's body was flushed all over, tinting his skin a gorgeous shade of violet. He tried to buck against the tool slowly working inside him, at the same time trying to find some friction for his cock. Estren rested his chin on his hand, admiring the display. He would've liked to spend more time toying with him, but unfortunately, his mistress would want him back before midnight. Once he noticed more precum starting to dribble from the tip of his cock, he grabbed a vial and held it in position.

"Do you want to come, sweet Cloé?" Estren asked, watching the slave's desperate movements.

"Pl--yes," the slave said, remembering even in his lust-filled haze not to beg. "Yes, yes sir, I want to come."

Estren watched his face a moment longer, enjoying the tears squeezing from the corners of his closed eyes, the way his mouth hung open as he panted. "Come, then," he said, stroking the slave's cock a few times to help him along.

It didn't take much more than that. Thick gobs of pent-seed burst from the slave's cock, landing safely in the vial. Estren continued to stroke, urging more and more of the fluid to find its way out, the massager and the months of frustration extending his ejaculation. He didn't stop even as the slave's moans gave way to pained little cries, his oversensitive cock forced to continue on beyond its limits.

To the slave's credit, he never once begged or whined for mercy, and when Estren felt he had milked as much as he could he pulled his hand away and shut off the massager. "That's a good boy," he said, setting the vial on the table and stroking Cloé's cheek, wiping up tears with his thumb. "Your mistress trained you expertly."

"Thank you, sir," Cloé breathed, tension melting out of him as he looked up at the alchemist with half-lidded eyes.

"You stay sitting a moment after I free you," Estren said. "I'll fetch you a tonic to get your strength back so you can make it home without needing to be carried." Cloé only nodded, letting his head drop onto his shoulder as Estren started to undo the leather straps. He stayed in the chair as instructed, and when Estren brought him a small bottle of a clear green fluid, he drank it from the alchemist's hand without complaint.

"When you feel up for it, clean yourself up and get dressed," Estren said, placing a towel in his lap. "I'll just write a response to your mistress."

"...Shouldn't you put the cage back on, sir?" Cloé asked, voice small and hesitant.

He smiled at the boy. "I think you've earned a reprieve. You'll be sensitive for a bit, and I don't think you'll want to touch yourself for a bit." Cloé nodded his agreement, and Estren felt those pretty crimson eyes as he wrote on the back of his mistress's note, praising the slave's good behavior and recommending a break from the cage--but that he would very much like to see him again in a few months' time.

Once the boy was up and dressing, Estren folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope with the key, and then he tucked the cage into his breeches pocket. "Be safe on the way back home, sweet Cloé," he said, patting the boy on the head and showing him to the door. He nodded and ducked his head shyly, hurrying out of the shop.

The door closed with a chime, and Estren went back to the workroom. The vial of pent-seed was right where he'd left it, and as was ever the case with alchemists, curiosity got the better of him. He dipped a finger into the fluid, fetching a tiny amount that he brought to his mouth and licked up. It was still warm, the taste smokey--and his tongue and throat tingled pleasurably as it went down. His own hardening cock started to tent against his trousers, a pleasant heat filling his loins.

Estren smiled widely to himself, unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock free. No reason not to harvest some of his own seed as long as he was in the mood.