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Please Don't Look At Me	By : NekoMalik Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3396 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, this is a fan-made work, not for profit

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Everything hurt. Sebastian groaned, his bruised body screaming out in pain as insistent hands pulled hurriedly at his pristine white armour. He felt himself cry out as, after one fairly harsh tug, the strapping gave way, causing him to fall back into the cold, crumbling brickwork behind him. As his other senses slowly began to return, Sebastian came to realise that there were not one, but two sets of foreign hands scrabbling at his clothes. A distant ripping sound made its way to his ears, quickly followed by what felt like a blast of cold air across his arms, chest and back.
The young prince knew that something was terribly amiss with the situation he appeared to be caught up in. His head spun as he tried to lift it, forcing his heavy, unresponsive eyelids open. His right eye refused to cooperate, sending jolts of pain and nausea through his face and down his spine, but the left one seemed to be relatively undamaged.
Blinking to clear his vision as best he could, Sebastian glanced around the room he was in; it was spacious but bare, with ancient stone walls and an uneven floor, also stone. Each of the four walls was adorned with a variety of different types of restraints, from simple iron cuffs to full body strapping. The wall directly opposite from where Sebastian had been left slumped on the floor held what appeared to be the only way in or out of this strange and forboding room; a single, heavily reinforced wooden door, with a metal hatch at eye height.
The centre of the room contained a single, large table, also equipped with a selection of restraints, most of them leather from the looks of things. The brunette narrowed his one good eye, his eyebrows knotted together. He’d seen such devices before, in the torture chambers back home, and had a pretty good idea what it was used for.
Something was missing. Sebastian’s focus was pulled suddenly away from the focal point of the room, his left eye scanning the room once again; he had to have missed something. Where were the owners of the two pairs of hands that had been undressing him moments ago? He hadn’t felt or heard them move away, nor had he heard the heavy wooden door open or close. More importantly though, why were they undressing him and where had they taken his clothes? Not that it mattered much, if the ripping sound he had heard was anything to go by he’d need a new set anyway. He was fortunate, he supposed, that they had left when they did; at least they had left him with his trousers, admittedly unfastened, but rather less embarrassing than the alternative.
Stretching his body to try to discern what damage had been done and how easily he’d be able to free himself from this place, Sebastian found two fairly major problems; his arms had been shackled rather successfully above his head, and both his legs had been broken. He wasn’t going to be going anywhere fast.
Slumping back against the wall again, head still spinning as another wave of nausea hit him, he began to wrack his brains as to how he had managed to get himself into this little predicament. He remembered being at the docks with Anders; they’d been sent on an errand by Hawke, in another vain attempt to force the pair to ‘get along’. Of course they’d ended up arguing, again. Sebastian winced from the memory; he’d said some rather cruel things to the mage, things which were uncalled for. He could vividly recall the hurt look that had crossed Anders’ face, and then the mage was gone, retreating quickly across the courtyard they were standing in. Sebastian hadn’t bothered to follow him.
Nothing else was coming back to him after that. Perhaps it was Anders who had locked him in here, as revenge? He wouldn’t blame the mage, not after what he’d said. Sebastian knew as soon as the thought crossed his mind that it couldn’t have been Anders; the mage was a lot of things, but cruelty and sadism just weren’t in his nature.
So who else had he made an enemy of? The prince smirked to himself; who else HADN’T he made an enemy of? Between his less than glamorous work with Hawke and the others, the way he’d handled those who had murdered his family and his own attitude towards others, he was surprised that he had any friends left.
Would Hawke and the others come for him? He wasn’t going to be able to worm his way out of this one alone. He suspected Hawke would; she was far too kind for her own good, particularly where he was concerned. Varric would without a doubt, and Isabella would follow Hawke wherever she went, but the others...he knew none of them liked him overly much.
The door across the room finally creaked open and four large figures entered through the narrow gap, each of them wearing an identical mask. Standing to one side, as if to attention, the four bowed their heads slightly in respect as a fifth person entered the room, smaller than the others but still distinctly male.
The prison seemed to go deathly cold. Magic? No, this was something far worse, Sebastian could feel it. As the door clanged shut, he pressed himself further into the wall. The bolts that slid across from the other side, trapping him once again, made his protesting muscles twitch. He was very afraid of these men, and had no idea why.
They moved as one, the four masked guards, two holding him in place as the other two unfastened the shackles that held him in place. Sebastian tried to throw his weight against them, to buck out of their grip, but they were so very strong and without the use of his legs he didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t even see the punch coming, landing hard across his already swollen face, making his head spin. His mouth quickly filled with bile as he tried, unsuccessfully, to prevent his stomach from emptying its contents onto the damp stone floor.
Strong arms hoisted him up onto the table, his chest pressed against the wood as cruel leather straps were fastened around his wrist and neck, his head angled away from his captors. Sebastian screamed as his trousers and boots were removed and tossed aside, jostling his broken legs. He managed to bite his bottom lip to muffle the second scream as both legs were forcibly strapped into place, hanging vertically off the edge of the table. Had he been fully aware of his surroundings, the prince would have blushed at the position he was in; completely naked and spread open for the world to see.
“Disgusting.” A heavy, foreign voice purred from somewhere above his head. “Do you see? Do you see how disgusting you are, little prince?” He knew that voice. How did he know that voice? “Don’t worry too much though, princeling, my boys don’t care how disgusting you are.” A loud bark of laughter followed, as the man moved away, standing across the room with his arms folded, staring intently at his helpless prisoner.
Sebastian’s head suddenly cleared as a large, calloused hand closed around his flaccid cock. His eyes widened as he threw himself full force against the restraints holding him in place, ignoring the pain in his muscles and his legs as he tried to get away from the unwanted touch. He could do nothing though, not with his thighs and ankles strapped into place as they were. The hand continued its molestation, surprisingly gentle, teasing him until he was half-hard. Sebastian forced his eyes closed, trying desperately to ignore the pleasurable tingles that were threading their way through his lower body.
A calloused finger ran over the swollen head, collecting the small amount of pre cum that had begun to collect in the slit and smearing it down the shaft. Sebastian’s shame was evident; his face and neck flushed with embarrassment, even as his breathing began to shift, becoming shorter and more erratic as the pleasure began to build. The masked man increased his pace, pumping the brunette’s leaking shaft hard. A strangled cry erupted from Sebastian’s throat as he came, painting the floor beneath him white with his essence.
He wasn’t allowed to rest, though, as a fat, cum-covered finger probed forcefully at his entrance. He knew this was coming and would not give his captors the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, biting down on his bruised lip as a spike of pain ran up his spine; the digit had breached the ring of muscle. He could feel it wriggling and writhing about inside of him, stretching him a little. Another hand made its way back to his cock, tugging rather more roughly than the first one had. The finger inside him seemed to find what it was looking for, as a jolt of pure pleasure shot up Sebastian’s spine and down to the end of his cock. His eyes opened in surprise as his body bucked back onto the intruding digit of its own accord, drawing an evil chuckle from their otherwise silent spectator.
Now that the finger had found his prostate, it rubbed against it mercilessly, making his skin quiver and his cock twitch. The combination of the internal stimulation and rough handling of his shaft was enough to tip him over the edge once again, silently this time. His body slumped down against the wooden table, too exhausted to protest as another finger was pushed into him without too much effort. The process began to repeat once again, with the sticky hand pulling insistently at his cock and the fingers rubbing at his prostate. His overly sensitised cock protested at the rough treatment, stinging initially as it was brought to hardness for a third time.
“Alright, that’s enough of that. Get on with it boys, I’m starting to become bored.” The spectator was clearly annoyed at Sebastian’s lack of response to this level of degradation, although the mask hid any outward signs of irritation.
No sooner had the words been spoken than a third finger was added, making the brunette wince as he was spread open. They were quickly removed, as a large, wet object began to force its way inside in their place. Sebastian cried out in pain; the cock that was piercing him was far larger than the three fingers had been, and he could feel his insides tearing as it thrust in and out, the blood providing some lubrication but doing nothing to deaden the pain. It seemed like an age before the fingers gripping his hips tightened to a bruising pressure as the man grunted his release, filling Sebastian’s insides with hot cum before pulling out.
The next cock didn’t hurt as much; Sebastian couldn’t decide if it was smaller or if he’d simply been stretched so far that the muscles had stopped protesting. It began thrusting, slowly, angling downwards to collide with his prostate. The gentle rhythm, combined with the added stimulation, quickly had Sebastian hard again, much to his shame. He came quickly, clenching around the large object in his ass, pulling the guard over the edge with him.
It continued, over and over. Sometimes they would let him cum, sometimes they would pound into him so violently that it felt like he was going to snap in two. Eventually, though, even that was getting him hard. He had stopped caring about his own embarrassment, stopped focusing on who was doing what, as his body took over and his mind shut itself off.
After what must have been hours, an unexpected, horrific pain shot up through his balls and down his cock as they finished one such round, causing his face to screw up in agony and snapping his mind back to the present. A silent motion from the spectator made the four masked guards move back. Sebastian opened his good eye and stared up at the man as he circled the table, admiring his handiwork. One gloved hand whipped around and grasped Sebastian’s aching cock, moving down to fondle the aching ball sack. He didn’t bother resisting as he was once again teased to full hardness, tensing up as he eventually came, the same excruciating pain lancing up through his body as before.
“There, now do you see how disgusting you are? You’ve even run out of cum! How pathetic, to think that you’d give your body up to us so easily.” He moved around to stare Sebastian in the eyes, his mask remaining in place. One of his gloved hands reached across to cup the brunette’s face gently, almost tenderly. “We’ll be back again tomorrow, little prince.”
Moving away, two of the guards began to unstrap him from the table, lifting his prone, exhausted form up and manoeuvring him back into the wall shackles. He didn’t bother to fight them, instead hanging his head and remaining silent as they left him alone and naked in the sex-stained room.
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Please Don't Look At Me