Chapters Ysrii the Dalsur Chapter 7
Please note, this story includes themes of violence, sadism, and abuse not shown on-screen in my previous works.
A couple months in, I hate to say, I had become accustomed to my new life, to being entirely helpless and treated like dirt. I missed the pedicures and luxurious beds of the old manor in the hills of course, but any time I tried to use my phantom toes, or saw myself in the mirror, or thought about Elias, I remembered that this was all I was good for now anyways, this was all I deserved.
I was drowning in shame, but Alyal said clientele desired a toy with a bit more fire, spite, struggle, and so the torture increased every night in hopes I would reach my wit’s end, lash out. I was hung upside down, flogged, whipped, waxed, choked, spanked, slapped, anything you can imagine, and plenty of things you can’t. I was fucked every which way, my mouth and ass taking up the mantle my pussy once had, the latter of which hurt like no other, spread wide to hold whichever phallic implement a patron wished. I could do nothing to protect my last hole as it was used and abused, slowly stretched, even as the aphrodisiac made me want even more back there so that maybe, someday, it would feel like my lost pussy.
One day, when we were preparing for the cellar doors opening, I asked Aian if I could wear a collar. My body harness held my body tightly everywhere in a complex leather web, everywhere except my neck, and as a dalsur bred to serve, collared from birth, it still felt abhorrent to not have something firmly encircling my neck. Well, I got what I asked for. He talked with Yusso and Alyal and I indeed received a collar, a dog’s collar with an electroshock unit placed right over my larynx. Every welp or sob or plead that night resulted in a harsh shock to my neck, and within a few days they didn’t just own a limbless punching bag but a silent one too.
Seeing Jak at the start of my evening had become the light of my night. He would leave his post, sneak down the hall, push the unkempt hair out of my eyes and touch me with care. Sometimes he would ask which of the patrons treated me the roughest the night before and sometimes they got the message from him during their next pat-down. He would always ask me how my sleep was, how I was feeling, if anything hurt (more than usual, that is). I know he felt guilty, partially responsible, but I didn’t blame him, he was my only ray of sunshine in this place, and he was vulnerable with me. As limited contact as we had, he treated me like a person, and I was starting to think I’d never been treated like that, even by Elias.
But this night I first wore the collar, from my hanging chain by the entryway, my harness biting into my sides and bottom in a way I was sadly used to by now. I could only look down at my ridiculous cock reacting, throbbing to the meal I’d just ate, and wait for him to open the doors. His eyes locked with mine like they did every night, a quiet smile lighting up behind his beard, before I thoughtlessly called out, “Jak!” and instantly bit down in pain. Oh he practically ran to me with his thunderous steps, held my cheeks in a way he hadn’t touched me before, then gently pulled my chin up until my head touched the tether, so he could take a closer look at the collar.
“That’s fucking enough.” I heard him say under his breath before heading past me in search of Yusso, and even though I wanted to tell him to come back, that it wasn’t worth it, I knew it wouldn’t get far past my lips without more pain.
My head was buried between a patron’s legs when I next heard that gentle giant’s bassy voice in the club. “…enough of your fucking shit, Yusso. Look at her! Look at what you’ve made her into!” Yusso was too underspoken to hear though, and the patron’s hand entangled in my hair, pushing my tongue harder into her pussy, well it was no match for what little purchase my hips and shoulders had below, twisting and bucking to see this man fight for a worthless slave like me. I tried to ask her to let me up but the damn collar shocked me again, and the next thing I heard was, “I’m not leaving here without Ysrii.”
But he did. Eykki said she saw him floor two guys before being shown out at gunpoint, and when I saw the doors open the next day there was an unfamiliar face standing guard.
I was distraught, alone, with the one man I had seen as my protector-to-be thrown out and disposed of in whichever way Yusso pleased.
Yusso himself took an interest in me after Jak left, sitting me on his lap as he played cards, tweaking or clamping my nipples to make me squirm, tying belts or my new collar around my neck one loop too tight to make the night more ‘exciting’ for both of us. He used me like a doll, showed me off to new guests. One of these guests brought an open-mouthed hood after his first visit and would often put it on me, sealing off all light and muffling sound. With my shock collar this left my senses almost totally useless, every sense save for touch, and with my harness and collar tight about me I felt trapped in my own skin, as I was. Like this I often spent my nights between people legs or under their feet, my ass fucked and filled until it leaked with cum, a mess I would invariably have to clean with my tongue. I was once even held on the bed in the back room by a crying man I could not see, hear, or talk to. I was used for anything and everything.
But never was my cock used, by any of the patrons. I would receive pleasure and pain from this unnatural member, especially as they stroked me on their way into the cellar, but never did my female patrons ever take me to the back and fuck themselves on me like they wanted. No, on top of everything else, the worst torture was my endless need, stymied by the tainted mash, of pleasuring others endlessly but never being truly fucked, like I had wanted Jak to do that first night. Oh Jak…