okokokok trust trust- this is a papa lizard gideon safe space, right? Remember the upside down exam table thing grace (blessed be the baby girl) was strapped into when she first woke up in the care home? hear me out... do I need to say it.... I'm not saying it...... I'm just saying....... the possibilities are endless......... đđ
tags & content: NSFW, rape/non-con, sexual content, restraints, cunnilingus (reader receiving), oral sex (reader giving), vertical 69 i guess???, suffocation, asphyxiation, passing out, afab reader
Waking is a slow, disorientating process. The first thing you feel is a tight ring of pressure at the top of your head. It almost aches to open your eyes, fighting against the pulsing, heavy strain. Blood rushes to your head in a heavy, persistent rush, and even when you try to blink, your vision smears into darkness and blurry shapes that refuse to settle. For a second, your heart flutters. You know something is off, and then it clicks.
The realisation hits all at once, and your body jerks in an instinctive reflex to curl in on yourself, only to find you canât move freely. Your wrists and ankles are buckled securely by thick, leather cuffs, securing you in place with ease. The rigid tableâgurney, whatever it isâis cold and unyielding against the curve of your spine.
You can barely choke out a panicked whisper. You inhale too fast, panic cinching your throat tight. You try to crane your head up to assess the situation, but pressure builds uncomfortably behind your eyes, and your body is drained of all feeling and strength.
The gurney shifts as you collapse back, sucking in wheezy whimpers of fear.
From the glimpse of skin you briefly caught, you know youâre not wearing anything but a thin cotton t-shirt and your panties. The raw vulnerability that creeps uncomfortably up your spine makes your head swim with a newfound dizziness. Through your disorientated vision, you suddenly see him. In the corner of the room, a figure, cloaked by darkness, sits impossibly still.
For a moment, you wonder if heâd even noticed you, but your sudden stillness must have alerted him. He regards the file in his hands with a quiet hum of interest, folding the contents and placing them on the desk in front of him.
âI had expected you awake much earlier,â Gideon murmurs, in a way that makes it seem like heâs speaking to himself. You barely even hear him over the pounding of your own heart, squinting wearily at him as he slowly approaches you. âPerhaps I miscalculated the dosage. An error on my part.â
Weakly, you twist at the restraints, your arms tensing as you try to pry the straps off your limbs. They donât budge, not even a little, a flare of panic hot and bright in your chest. Gideon tilts his head as he observes you clinically. His forked tongue darts out for a split second to wet his lips, like a snake tasting the air, before cooing softly at your efforts.
âI wouldnât do that,â he advises gently. âYouâll only hurt yourself. Contrary to what you might believe, I donât intend to cause you any harm. You are vital for my masterâs workâŚâ
You bite back another pained whine when your head pulses again, your temples throbbing from the incessant pressure. You struggle to even wake up your tongue, heavy and slow in your mouth.
âWhoâWho are you?â You stammer. Your vision keeps tilting and swaying, like someone is trying to pry it apart. It makes it difficult to take him in clearly, but you already feel scrutinised under his piercing gaze, even behind that thing on his head. Your thighs automatically twitch, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Heâs quiet for so long, just observing you, that you wonder if heâs going to indulge you at all. Finally, he smiles.
âDr. Victor Gideon,â he answers slowly, as if ensuring you remember it. You tense when he steps closer to you, so close that you canât see all of him. It makes your breath hitch, trying to crane your head up just to keep an eye on his face, but your vision keeps being tugged apart.
Gideon raises a hand, and you feel his fingers, large and cold, brush against a slither of exposed skin between the line of your panties and shirt. You gasp, writhing against your restraints.
âMy masterâs genius is nothing short of extraordinary,â he sighs, and no matter how much you try to jump away from his touch, he keeps leisurely exploring. You can only see the top of his legs, your vision blocked as he stands directly in front of you. âAnd watching youâŚI see what he sees. To call him a visionary would beâŚpedestrian. Your results are truly remarkableâ
Thereâs a layer of deep admiration in his voice that makes you shudder. You donât know who his so called master is, or what results heâs even talking about, but you donât care. When you jerk against the cuffs with a little more force, Gideonâs head tilts slightly. His fingers linger on your waist, smoothing over the lace trim of your panties. He exhales, soft and measured.
âShh, donât struggle,â he murmurs softly, and you canât help the gasp that escapes you when his fingers pry at the thin fabric right between your legs. âYouâll let me run a few more tests, wonât you, my dear?â
Pushing your panties aside, his cold fingers prod firmly at your folds. The sensation is invasive and vile, and you feel hot tears sting your eyes. You try to open your mouth to say something, but you can only managed a strangled sob. Your ankles strain against the cuffs, but it does little to deter him. Gideon runs a large finger down your slit, to your clit, clearly unsatisfied by the lack of arousal he feels. When he removes his fingers, you wonder if perhaps heâll lose interest if you donât react. But then his fingers are replaced by his tongue, and your whole body jolts violently against the gurney.
âStop!â You cry out, a shudder hurling down your spine. âPleaseââ
He doesnât. The texture and shape of his tongue is uncomfortably different against your cunt, your hips twitching in some vain attempt to get away from it. Heâs so close now that you feel claustrophobic, flinching when he dips down further to press his mouth firmly against you. His tongue massages your folds before the forked end tickles your clit, and you jerk more violently against his mouth before you can stop yourself.
Itâs harder to breathe like this, and the pressure in your head mounts to a painful level. Your head cranes up instinctively to try and relieve the pressure, but your forehead bumps against the notches of his belt, and with a frustrated sigh your head falls back against the gurney. The motion doesnât go unnoticed by the doctor.
His mouth parts as quickly as it had appeared, stepping back an inch so he can look down at you. The sensations had stirred up minimal arousal, and the wetness feels more noticeable against the cold air. Gideon lets out something akin to a breathless chuckle, and his fingers begin to unwind the loops of his belt with quick ease. You donât even see it at first, only hear the sound of clinking metal making you freeze.
âIf you insist, my dear.â
The words donât even register at first, but your breath hitches when your vision clears for just a second. He works himself out of his pants, his cock long and heavy in his hand, and even the blurry sight of it makes your eyes widen. You whimper out something nonsensical, not even making sense to yourself, trying to crane your head away from him. It does little to deter his efforts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your red cheek, before his hand covers the side of your face and forces your lips closer. With some force, he eases himself into the warmth of your mouth, your fists clenching until they shake.
You can barely breathe like this. Heâs big, too big to take it all, and even when he bullies a few more inches with a slight rock of his hips, it makes your jaw ache tenderly. Your nostrils flare as they desperately try to inhale air, but like this, you know youâre going to suffocate.
âThatâs it,â he praises, his thumb brushing against your cheek like heâs trying to soothe you. It trails up to your jaw, then relaxes against the base of your throat, rubbing the skin there gently. âI donât think I could reach your throat without causing any permanent damage. This will have to do.â
His mouth returns between your legs, his tongue stroking more insistently through your folds, occasionally sealing his greedy lips around those sensitive nerves to suckle. The occasional, but gentle thrust into your mouth makes you lurch, your jaw stretching uncomfortably before a wave of numbness spreads over you.
âDelicious,â he murmurs raggedly against your flesh, his forked tongue catching on the hood of your clit before prodding against your hole. You jolt without realising, but itâs getting harder and harder to draw in air with his cock resting in your mouth. The pressure in your head turns unbearable, your pulse slamming behind your eyes and your ears ringing faintly. Your fingers twitch, curl, strain hard against the cuffs, but your strength slowly bleeds from your limbs. You canât see anything, obstructed by the seams of his pants, but even then spots are starting to distort the darkness.
Your thoughts quickly start to blur. The sound of his mouth slurping against your cunt becomes dull, distorted, like itâs being pulled underwater. You try to inhale around him, but one particularly brutal thrust steals any slither of air left in your burning lungs.
Warmth suddenly spreads along your tongue. Itâs thick and cloying, and Gideon eases himself slowly out of your mouth as he comes with a breathless, satisfied groan. God, how much time had passed?
When he breaks free, saliva bridging from his cock to your filled mouth, you inhale hard enough to choke on his cum, erupting into a violent coughing fit that makes your entire body spasm. You struggle, doing anything to expel the stickiness from your throat.
When your airway clears, you raggedly gasp for air. Your face is a wet, sticky mess, his coughed up release and a mix of saliva running down to your temples. You donât even know when heâd stepped back to watch, observing your struggle with an interest so intense you canât get your throat to work in protest.
His form shifts and distorts, the room narrowing and collapsing inward. Each desperate breath drawn is like glass in your lungs, before everything dims all at once at the edges of your vision until thereâs only fragments. With a final, wheezing cough, your body slumps back against the gurney, and your eyes mercifully roll to the back of your head.
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