Chapter 3: Rising Action
Arne would awake in a new room, completely naked with his clothes burning in a fire infront of him. He would be completely bare, and seemingly not restrained to anything.
The room was dimly lit, with a single torch flickering in a holder on the wall. The air was thick with smoke from the burning clothes, and the scent of charred fabric filled his nostrils. Arne's eyes widened as he took in his surroundings, his heart pounding in his chest.
He would be completely naked, and seemingly not restrained to anything. The room was dimly lit, with a single torch flickering in a holder on the wall. The air was thick with smoke from the burning clothes, and the scent of charred fabric filled his nostrils. Arne's eyes widened as he took in his surroundings, his heart pounding in his chest.
He would stand up and immediately try to cover his penis with his hands.
He would look around the room in confusion and fear. He would see a large mirror on the wall and would walk towards it. He would see a figure standing behind him in the reflection. Arne would ask, his voice shaking.
The figure would turn around slowly, revealing itself to be a tall, muscular man with piercing green eyes. He would be wearing thick armour, adorned with various weapons at his waist.
"I am the Dungeon Master," he would say, his voice deep and authoritative. "And you are my new slave"
Arne's eyes widened in shock and fear. "Slave?"
"You have one chance to obtain freedom. If you can kill me, you may attempt now." The Dungeon Master's voice was cold, almost clinical. He stood tall and imposing, his green eyes piercing through Arne's frightened gaze. Arne's heart pounded in his chest as he took in the man's imposing figure, the weapons at his waist glinting in the flickering torchlight.
Arne's mind raced as he tried to process the Dungeon Master's words. Kill him? How could he possibly do that? He was just a young man, not a trained fighter. But the thought of being a slave, of being at this man's mercy forever, filled him with a primal fear.
He looked around the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon.
The Dungeon Master would throw him a broadsword and smirk.
"Let's see what you've got, boy."
Arne fumbled with the sword, his hands slick with sweat. He had never held a weapon like this before, let alone used one. He pointed it at the Dungeon Master, trying to look intimidating, but he knew he fell short.
The Dungeon Master laughed, a deep, mocking sound that echoed through the room. "You arent going to get anywhere down here with that small of a sword. And I am not talking about the weapon I gave you."
He would gesture to Arne's small penis, almost laughing.
"I am afraid you will be nothing more than a submissive twink."
The Dungeon Master taunted, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Arne felt a surge of anger and embarrassment, his grip tightening on the sword.
"I am not a twink!" Arne snapped, his cheeks flushing with heat. "And I am not submissive!"
The Dungeon Master raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is that so? Then prove it. Come at me with that sword."
Arne took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He knew he had to do this, had to show the Dungeon Master that he was not just some weak, submissive twink. He raised the sword, pointing it at the Dungeon Master's chest.
He took a step forward, then another, trying to build up the courage to lunge at the man. The Dungeon Master watched him, his expression unreadable, his arms crossed over his chest.
Arne took a deep breath and charged, the sword held out in front of him. He aimed for the Dungeon Master's chest, hoping to catch him off guard. But the Dungeon Master was ready. He moved faster than Arne thought possible, sidestepping the attack with ease. Arne stumbled past him, off balance, and the Dungeon Master grabbed his hair and swung him into the brick wall.
Before Arne could further react, the Master would pin his arms behind his back and force him to drop his sword.
Arne struggled, trying to free himself from the Dungeon Master's grip, but it was no use. The man was too strong.
"You're pathetic," the Dungeon Master growled in Arne's ear. "You can't even land a single blow."
Arne glared at him, his heart pounding with anger and humiliation. "Let me go," he spat.
The Dungeon Master chuckled, his breath hot on Arne's neck. "That was your chance. Now you will be my slave." The Dungeon Master's voice was cold and unyielding as he held Arne in a firm grip. Arne struggled against him, but it was like trying to move a mountain. The Dungeon Master's strength was overwhelming.
"Let me go!" Arne snarled, trying to kick out at the man's shins. But the Dungeon Master was ready for that too. He shifted his weight, avoiding the kick and pinning Arne's legs down with his own.
"You're pathetic," the Dungeon Master growled again, his voice echoing in the small room. "You can't even fight back. You're just a weak little boy."
Arne's face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
He couldn't believe he had been so easily overpowered. He had always thought of himself as strong, as capable. But this man, this Dungeon Master, had made him look like a child.
"Let me go," Arne repeated, his voice shaking with anger and humiliation. "I won't be your slave."
The Dungeon Master laughed, a deep, mocking sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine. "You don't have a choice," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "You're mine now."
Arne glared at him, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way out of this situation. He couldn't just give up, couldn't just accept being a slave
The master would then throw Arne to the ground and point a sword at him.
Afterward he would pull out a leather harness.
"Put on this." The Dungeon Master tossed the leather harness at Arne's feet. It landed with a thud, the buckles jingling softly. Arne looked at it, then back up at the Dungeon Master, confusion etched on his face.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The Dungeon Master smirked. "Your new uniform, slave. Now put it on."
Arne hesitated, then picked up the harness. It was made of thick, black leather, with straps and buckles that seemed to go on forever. He looked at it, then back at the Dungeon Master, who was still pointing the sword at him.
"I don't understand," Arne said, his voice shaking slightly. "What do you want me to do with this?"
The Dungeon Master's smirk widened into a cruel smile. "Put it on," he repeated, his voice sharp. "Now."
Arne hesitated, then began to struggle with the harness. It was complicated, with straps and buckles that seemed to go on forever. He fumbled with them, trying to figure out how they all fit together.
The Dungeon Master watched him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "10 seconds or I kill you and find another twink." The Dungeon Master's voice was cold and unyielding as he pointed the sword at Arne's chest. Arne's heart pounded in his chest as he looked up at the man, his eyes wide with fear and determination. He couldn't let this man win so easily.
Arne's hands trembled as he continued to struggle with the harness. He could feel the Dungeon Master's eyes on him, watching him with a mixture of amusement and impatience. He knew he had to hurry, had to find a way to escape this man's grasp.
Arne managed to buckle the last strap. He stood up, his body tense and ready for whatever came next.
The master would pull out a leather jock strap that had a penis cage attached. It also had a ring for tightening around the testicle. He would throw this at Arnie.
"Put this on too."
Arne looked at the contraption in his hands, his eyes widening in disbelief. "That, my dear slave, is a chastity device. It will ensure that you can't pleasure yourself, or anyone else, without my permission." "I'm not wearing that," he snapped.
The Dungeon Master's smirk faded, replaced by a cold, hard expression. "Ten seconds."
Arne glared at him, his mind racing.
He couldn't just give in, not to this. He clutched the harness and the chastity device in his hands, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.
"You're bluffing," Arne said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "You won't kill me. You need slaves, right? You can't just go around killing them."
The Dungeon Master's eyes narrowed, and he would glare at Arne. Without a second notice his hands would wrap around Arne's neck and he would begin choking him.
Arne's eyes widened in shock and fear as he struggled to breathe. He dropped the harness and the chastity device, his hands flying to the Dungeon Master's wrists, trying to pry them off his neck.
"Let... go..." Arne gasped, his face turning red from lack of oxygen.
The Dungeon Master's grip tightened, his eyes gleaming with a cold, cruel amusement. "You're right, slave," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't need to kill you. But I can make you wish you were dead."
Arne's vision began to swim, spots dancing in front of his eyes. He could feel his strength waning, his body growing weak.
A magic pair of hands would appear and force the device on Arnie as his face would turn purple.
The master would slam Arnie against the brick wall behind him multiple times.
"YOU DO AS I SAY." The Dungeon Master's voice was a low growl, his grip still tight around Arne's neck. Arne's vision was starting to tunnel, his lungs burning for air. He nodded weakly, his hands falling limply to his sides.
The Dungeon Master released him, and Arne crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. He could feel the chastity device in place, the cold metal and leather pressing against his skin. He looked up at the Dungeon Master, his eyes filled with fear and humiliation.
The Dungeon Master smirked, looking down at Arne with a mixture of amusement and contempt. "I am feeling kind today. Well- I am actually much to tired of fucking corpses, for now." The Dungeon Master's voice was cold and dismissive as he looked down at Arne, who was still sprawled on the ground, panting and trying to catch his breath. "But don't worry, I'll find a use for you eventually." Arne looked up at him, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and defiance. "What do you mean?"The Dungeon Master chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine. "You are mine. Alive or dead."
The Dungeon Master turned and walked towards the door, leaving Arne alone in the room. Arne watched him go, his mind racing with a mix of fear, anger, and confusion. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He had gone from being a free man to a slave in the blink of an eye.
He looked down at himself, at the leather harness and chastity device that now adorned his body. He felt a surge of humiliation and anger. He couldn't let this happen, he couldn't just accept this fate. He had to find a way out.
He stood up, his body aching from the Dungeon Master's rough treatment. He looked around the room, searching for any means of escape.
The room was bare, save for the torch on the wall and a small wooden table in the corner. There were no windows, no other doors, just the one the Dungeon Master had exited through. Arne's heart sank as he realized he was truly trapped.
He limped over to the table, his body still sore from the Dungeon Master's rough handling. He picked up the lone object on the table, a small, worn leather flask. He uncorked it and sniffed, recoiling at the strong smell of alcohol. Whiskey, by the smell of it.
He took a swig, the liquid burning its way down his throat. It was strong, but it helped to calm his nerves.
He took another swig, then another, until the flask was empty. He set it down on the table with a thud, his head already starting to swim.
He leaned against the table, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to find a way out of here, had to escape the Dungeon Master's clutches. But how?
He looked around the room again, his eyes landing on the mirror. He pushed off from the table and stumbled towards the mirror, his legs still unsteady from the whiskey.
He stood in front of it, looking at his reflection. His eyes would wide as he would realize he was erect.
He would look down at his crotch in shock and disbelief. The chastity device would be pressing against his skin, making him uncomfortable and aroused at the same time. He would try to adjust himself, but it would be no use. The device was locked in place, and he could feel the metal pressing against his sensitive flesh.
He would look up at the mirror again, his eyes meeting his own reflection. He could see the fear and humiliation in his own eyes, and it made him feel even more ashamed. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He had always been so confident, so sure of himself. But now, he felt like nothing more than a helpless slave.
His sexual desires would increase sharply, and he would begin sweating profusely.
He would try to rub himself against the table, but the chastity device would prevent him from getting any satisfaction. He would groan in frustration, his body aching with unfulfilled desire.
Suddenly, the door to the room would swing open, and the Dungeon Master would walk in, a smug smile on his face. "Having fun without me, slave?" he would taunt, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Arne would quickly turn around, trying to hide his erection. "I-I wasn't doing anything," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
The Dungeon Master chuckled, walking closer to Arne. "Liar," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"You were trying to rub yourself against that table like a pathetic little animal." The Dungeon Master's eyes raked over Arne's body, lingering on the bulge in his leather harness. Arne's face flushed with humiliation, and he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide his arousal.
"I wasn't," he insisted, his voice shaking slightly. "I was just... trying to get comfortable."
The Dungeon Master laughed, a cold and mocking sound. "You expect me to believe that? You must have had some of the aphrodisiac..." The Dungeon Master's voice trailed off, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Yes, that must be it. I put some in your whiskey." He looked at Arne, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You're welcome, by the way. It's not every day I provide my slaves with such... entertainment."
Arne's eyes widened in shock and betrayal. "You drugged me?" he accused, his voice shaking with anger.
The Dungeon Master shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "You chose to drink it. I never said it was meant for you. Follow me down stairs. You do not want to waste any time." The Dungeon Master's voice was stern, and he gestured towards the door with a wave of his hand. "Come along, slave."
Arne hesitated for a moment, still trying to process the betrayal of being drugged. But he knew he had no choice but to follow the Dungeon Master. He took a deep breath and walked towards the door, his steps slow and uncertain.
The Dungeon Master led him down a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The air was thick with the scent of old stone and something else - a faint, sweet smell that made Arne's stomach churn. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the sound of his own footsteps echoing off the cold walls.
The Dungeon Master walked ahead of him, his boots clicking on the stone floor with a confident, almost arrogant, rhythm. Arne couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him as they descended deeper into the dungeon. The air grew colder, and the darkness seemed to close in around him, threatening to swallow him whole.
Finally, they reached a heavy wooden door, banded with iron. The Dungeon Master pushed it open, revealing a large, dimly lit room filled with men. They were all dressed in similar leather harnesses and chastity devices, their eyes downcast and their bodies tense. Arne's stomach churned as he took in the scene, realization dawning on him.
These men were all slaves, just like he was now. The Dungeon Master led him into the room, his boots echoing on the stone floor. The other slaves looked up as they entered, their eyes filled with a mix of fear, curiosity, and something else - a spark of defiance that made Arne's heart race with hope.
"New blood," the Dungeon Master announced, gesturing to Arne. "He's a feisty one, too. I think he'll fit in well here." The other slaves watched Arne, their eyes appraising. He could feel their gazes on him, assessing him, measuring him up. He stood tall, trying to hide the fear that was coursing through his veins.
He wouldn't give the Dungeon Master the satisfaction of seeing him cower. The Dungeon Master walked around the room, his boots clicking on the stone floor as he surveyed his slaves. He stopped in front of a tall, muscular man with short black hair and piercing blue eyes. The man's gaze was defiant, his jaw set in a hard line.
"Ah, this one," the Dungeon Master said, turning to Arne. "His name is Kai. He's been here the longest. He thinks he's special, that he's different. But he's just like the rest of you. My property."
Kai's eyes flashed with anger, but he said nothing. The Master would push Arnie against a table and slap his ass.
"This little shit drank all of the aphrodisiac."
The Dungeon Master chuckled, slapping Arne's ass again, harder this time. Arne yelped in pain and surprise, his face flushing red. The other slaves watched, their expressions ranging from amusement to pity.
"Don't worry, Kai," the Dungeon Master taunted, turning back to the tall man. "I'll make sure he gets plenty of attention. He's got quite the appetite, it seems." He gestured to Arne's erection, still visible through the leather harness.
Kai's eyes flashed with anger, but he bit back his retort. The Dungeon Master smirked, clearly enjoying the power he held over them.
"I am going to show you what happens when you don't listen to daddy." The Dungeon Master's voice was low and menacing as he grabbed Arne's hair and pulled him towards the table. Arne stumbled forward, his hands reaching out to steady himself. The Dungeon Master pushed him down onto the table, his hands gripping Arne's wrists and pinning them down.
"Please," Arne begged, his voice shaking with fear. "I didn't mean to disobey you." "You always say that, slave. But you never learn."
"If you don't want to choke on your own cum, you are going to have to follow my directions. Otherwise it will build up in your body and you will die.
Now, let's see how well you can follow orders." The Dungeon Master's voice was cold and unyielding as he released Arne's wrists and stepped back. He knew he had to do this, had to prove to the Dungeon Master that he could follow orders. He looked up at the man, his eyes filled with determination.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through his veins. Arnie would feel his stomach growl and he would grab it.
"I want you to bend over on the table, and spread your asshole for me. I have to take your virginity."
The Dungeon Master's voice was low and menacing as he spoke the words that sent a shiver down Arne's spine. He looked up at the man, his eyes wide with shock and fear.
"No," Arne whispered, shaking his head. "I won't let you."
The Dungeon Master smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Then you will die from the aphrodisiac."
Arne's heart pounded in his chest as he realized the full extent of his situation. He was trapped, a prisoner in this dungeon, at the mercy of this cruel man. He had to find a way out, had to escape.
But for now, he had to play along. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed himself up from the table, his body still shaking with fear and humiliation. He turned around, his back to the Dungeon Master, and bent over the table, his hands gripping the edge tightly.
The Dungeon Master chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine. "Good boy," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Now spread your ass for me."
Arne hesitated for a moment, his body tense and resistant. But he knew he had no choice. He slowly spread his legs and reached back, his fingers trembling as he gripped his own ass cheeks and pulled them apart.
He could feel the cool air on his exposed flesh, and he shivered at the sensation. He heard the Dungeon Master's boots click on the stone floor as he approached, and he braced himself for what was to come.
The Dungeon Master's hands were cold and rough as they gripped Arne's hips, pulling him back further. Arne could feel the man's breath on his skin, hot and heavy. He heard the sound of a zipper being lowered, and then the rustle of fabric as the Dungeon Master freed himself.
Arne's heart pounded in his chest as he waited, his body tense and ready for the invasion. However there woild be a pause of silence.
and then the Dungeon Master would laugh.
"Oh, this is going to be fun." The Dungeon Master's voice was filled with amusement as he released Arne's hips and stepped back. Arne looked back over his shoulder, confusion and relief warring in his eyes.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
The Dungeon Master smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'm not going to take your virginity just yet," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to break you in slowly. Make you beg for it."
The Dungeon Master would drop his exterior armor. This would reveal sexual equipment of his own. He would be wearing a leather suit with a leather hat
and a leather mask that covered his face. He would have a large, blackened penis that he would stroke.
"First, we'll start with this," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Most slaves have to train for my dick, but I frankly hate you."
Arne's eyes widened in shock and fear as he took in the sight of the dick. It was huge, easily the biggest thing he had ever seen. He shook his head, his body tensing as he tried to pull away.
But the Dungeon Master's grip was like iron, holding him in place with an unyielding strength.
"Please," Arne begged, his voice shaking with fear and desperation. "I can't... I can't take that."
The Dungeon Master chuckled, a cold and mocking sound. "I thought you were an adventurer" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You're mine to do with as I please."
He released one of Arne's hips and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of lube. He poured it onto his fingers and began to rub it into Arne's asshole, his touch rough and demanding.
Arne tensed at the intrusion, his body resisting the invasion. The Dungeon Master's fingers probed him, stretching him, preparing him for what was to come.
"Relax," the Dungeon Master growled, his voice low and menacing. "You'll take it all eventually."
Arne bit his lip, trying to hold back a whimper of pain. He could feel the Dungeon Master's fingers moving inside him, stretching him, making him ready for his cock. He tried to relax, to let his body accept the intrusion, but it was difficult. He was a virgin, and this was painful and humiliating.
His body was tense and resistant, but the Dungeon Master's fingers were relentless, pushing deeper and deeper into him. Arne could feel himself starting to relax, his body adjusting to the intrusion. The Dungeon Master's fingers moved in and out of him, stretching him, preparing him for what was to come.
"Good boy," the Dungeon Master murmured, his voice low and approving.
Arne gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a whimper of pain. He could feel himself starting to get used to the sensation, his body beginning to accept the invasion.
But just as he was starting to relax, the Dungeon Master withdrew his fingers, leaving Arne feeling empty and wanting.
"No," Arne gasped, his body tensing as he braced himself for what was to come next.
The Dungeon Master chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "Patience, slave," he said, his voice cold and dismissive. "We're not done yet."
Arne could hear the sound of fabric rustling, and then the Dungeon Master's hands were back on his hips, pulling him back further. He could feel the head of the Dungeon Master's cock pressing against his asshole, hot and insistent.
Arnie would sweat further realizing that cum was building up in his dick, he would begin to cough as it would exit his mouth.
"Hurry up!" Arne's voice was urgent, his body tensing as he felt the pressure building inside him.
"Patience, slave," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I want you to beg for it."
Arne gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the urge to push back against the Dungeon Master's cock. He could feel the pressure building inside him, the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, making him desperate for release.
"Please," Arne begged, his voice shaking with desperation.
"What was that?" The Dungeon Master smirked.
"A little louder."
The Dungeon Master taunted, his voice low and mocking. Arne could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his humiliation growing with each passing second. But he knew he had to beg, had to plead for release.
"Please," he said again, louder this time. "Please, Master. I need... I need you to fuck me." The words felt foreign on his tongue, but he forced them out, his voice shaking with desperation. "That's better," he said, his voice low and approving. "But I want more.
I want you to beg for my cock like it's the only thing that can save your life." The Dungeon Master's voice was cold and demanding, his grip on Arne's hips tightening.
Arne's breath hitched in his throat as he realized the full extent of his predicament. He was at the mercy of this cruel man, his body aching with unfulfilled desire and his mind racing with fear and humiliation. But he knew he had to play along, had to give the Dungeon Master what he wanted if he wanted any hope of survival.
"Please, Master," Arne begged, his voice shaking with desperation. "Please give me your cock. I need it. I need you to fuck me hard.
I need you to fill me up with your cum. I need you to make me yours." The words tumbled out of Arne's mouth in a rush, his voice shaking with desperation and humiliation. The Dungeon Master chuckled, a cold and mocking sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine.
"Good boy," he said, his voice low and approving. "But I want to hear you say it again. Louder this time."
Arne's face flushed with embarrassment, but he knew he had no choice. He took a deep breath and repeated the words, his voice louder and more insistent.
"Please, Master," he begged. "Please fuck me hard.
Please fill me up with your cum. Make me yours, Master. I need you." Arne's voice echoed through the room, his desperation and humiliation hanging heavy in the air.
"Good boy," he murmured, his voice low and approving. His dick would begin rubbing against Arnie's asshole.
"Scream for me." The Dungeon Master's voice was low and menacing, his grip on Arne's hips tightening as he positioned himself behind him.
Arne's heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for what was to come. He had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. He took a deep breath and let out a scream, his voice echoing through the room as the Dungeon Master's cock pushed into him.
The pain was intense, unlike anything Arne had ever experienced. He could feel every inch of the Dungeon Master's cock as it stretched him, filling him completely. He let out another scream, his body tensing as he tried to adjust to the invasion.
The Dungeon Master's hands gripped his hips tightly, holding him in place as he began to move, thrusting in and out of Arne with a slow, steady rhythm.
Arne could feel every movement, every inch of the Dungeon Master's cock as it slid in and out of him. The pain was intense, but it was beginning to morph into something else - a strange, overwhelming sensation that made his body ache with need.
He could feel the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, heightening his senses and making his body respond to the Dungeon Master's touch in ways he never thought possible. He could feel himself getting harder, his own cock pressing against the table beneath him.
The Dungeon Master noticed, his grip on Arne's hips tightening as he began to thrust harder, faster.
"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You're a little slut, aren't you?"
Arne gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a whimper of pain and pleasure. He could feel the Dungeon Master's cock hitting that spot inside him, the one that made his toes curl and his body ache with need.
"Yes," he gasped, his voice shaking with desperation. "Yes, I am.
I'm a slut for you," Arne admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The Dungeon Master chuckled, a low, menacing sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine. "You're learning quickly."
Arne could feel the Dungeon Master's cock sliding in and out of him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through his body. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his body aching with the need for release.
"Please," he begged, his voice shaking with desperation.
The master would roll hid eyes and remove his penis from Arnie's asshole.
"Please what?" He would ask with a smirk on his face.
"Please, Master," Arnie would plead, his voice shaking with need. "Please let me come. I can't take it anymore."
The Dungeon Master would chuckle, a low, mocking sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine. "You want to come, do you?" he taunted, his voice low and dangerous. "You want to fill up your little cock with my cum?"
Arne nodded eagerly, his body aching with the need for release. "Yes, Master," he begged. "Please let me come.
I can't take it anymore," Arne begged, his voice shaking with desperation. The Dungeon Master chuckled, a low, mocking sound that sent shivers down Arne's spine. "Yes, Master," he pleaded.
He would then shove his fist inside of Arnie and directly assault his prostate.
Arnie would scream in pain and pleasure as the Dungeon Master would continue to fuck him with his fist while stroking his own cock.
"Please," Arnie begged, his voice shaking with desperation.
The Dungeon Master would then kiss Arnie, swabbing the inside of his mouth with his tongue.
Arnie would try to pull back but the Dungeon Master would hold him in place, his grip on Arnie's hair tightening. During the kiss, a magic would take hold of Arnie, and his asshole would shift.
It would become looser, more accommodating to the Dungeon Master's fist. Arnie would feel a wave of pleasure wash over him, unlike anything he had ever experienced. He moaned into the Dungeon Master's mouth, his body writhing with ecstasy.
The Dungeon Master broke the kiss, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "There you go," he murmured, his voice low and approving. "You're taking it like a good little slut now."
Arnie could only whimper in response, his body still writhing with pleasure. He could feel the Dungeon Master's fist moving inside him, stretching him, filling him completely.