It's such a strange feeling of helplessness, because as he knows he isn't truly helpless, but even still to be forced to react so strongly isn't something he's used to. It's novel and alien both.
He frowns at being called sensitive, even though the evidence of such is plainly there. Though he has to admit that Byleth's laugh is really rather charming, the awkwardness of it is endearing in the same way a stumbling baby animal taking its first steps are.
"Yes, well, it is not as though I am accustom to this." He says with a little bit of defiance to his voice, though not enough to truly mean anything, nor is it meant to deter Byleth. Not that it matters anyway, when Byleth goes on to touch his chest and tease his nipples, causing him to suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. The flush in both his face and ears begins to travel to his shoulders and chest as he holds back a moan that's in his throat.
Fortunately for him, the swapping to the feather doesn't result in any tickling, instead the soft, tantalizing sensation feels nice and teases him. Causing his breath to hitch a little as his brow knits and his eyes close. While he attempts to restrain the whine that builds in his throat, he doesn't particularly succeed, and he shifts in place as he can, trying to move his hips to no avail.
Then Byleth moves on, and each spot he gives an answer as is expected of him, and none are as severe at his under arms/armpit area. They are as follows:
Sides are seven, belly is three, hips are six, thigh meeting groin is five, legs are four, feet eight.
With Byleth giving him that momentary break, that reward for his compliance, he breathes out a pleased sigh as he feels that fist around his wanting cock. He cannot move much, but he does try to rock into that stroking hand, wanting to fuck it as he's able. He can feel it, he can feel himself getting close, his mouth hanging open as his eyes screw shut, his abdominals growing tight, the pressure building and—the hand is gone, and he's left whining in displeasure and need as he looks to Byleth with frustration.
Though, his frustration is only beginning with that, as Byleth starts the cycle of edging and tickling, which is honestly so maddening he almost considers attempting to break his bindings and fucking Byleth himself!
He does not do this, however, and instead he endures. Endures as much as he can, even as his dick is left dribbling pre from its tip, throbbing with need, pink with sensitivity from the attention and denial. There's tears in his eyes from the mirth milking, and he's breathing heavily from it all, his body slightly trembling.
Considering the merits of begging for release, his eyes fall to his poor dick, but he decides that he cannot simply give in so easily. He will not be broken by this, no, he will endure.
"Is this all you have for me?" His voice is shaken, strained, and does not sound as confident as his words imply. He lets his gaze meet with Byleth's, and for as watery as his glowing eyes may be, there's affection behind them, enjoyment, and determination.
no subject
He frowns at being called sensitive, even though the evidence of such is plainly there. Though he has to admit that Byleth's laugh is really rather charming, the awkwardness of it is endearing in the same way a stumbling baby animal taking its first steps are.
"Yes, well, it is not as though I am accustom to this." He says with a little bit of defiance to his voice, though not enough to truly mean anything, nor is it meant to deter Byleth. Not that it matters anyway, when Byleth goes on to touch his chest and tease his nipples, causing him to suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. The flush in both his face and ears begins to travel to his shoulders and chest as he holds back a moan that's in his throat.
Fortunately for him, the swapping to the feather doesn't result in any tickling, instead the soft, tantalizing sensation feels nice and teases him. Causing his breath to hitch a little as his brow knits and his eyes close. While he attempts to restrain the whine that builds in his throat, he doesn't particularly succeed, and he shifts in place as he can, trying to move his hips to no avail.
Then Byleth moves on, and each spot he gives an answer as is expected of him, and none are as severe at his under arms/armpit area. They are as follows:
Sides are seven, belly is three, hips are six, thigh meeting groin is five, legs are four, feet eight.
With Byleth giving him that momentary break, that reward for his compliance, he breathes out a pleased sigh as he feels that fist around his wanting cock. He cannot move much, but he does try to rock into that stroking hand, wanting to fuck it as he's able. He can feel it, he can feel himself getting close, his mouth hanging open as his eyes screw shut, his abdominals growing tight, the pressure building and—the hand is gone, and he's left whining in displeasure and need as he looks to Byleth with frustration.
Though, his frustration is only beginning with that, as Byleth starts the cycle of edging and tickling, which is honestly so maddening he almost considers attempting to break his bindings and fucking Byleth himself!
He does not do this, however, and instead he endures. Endures as much as he can, even as his dick is left dribbling pre from its tip, throbbing with need, pink with sensitivity from the attention and denial. There's tears in his eyes from the mirth milking, and he's breathing heavily from it all, his body slightly trembling.
Considering the merits of begging for release, his eyes fall to his poor dick, but he decides that he cannot simply give in so easily. He will not be broken by this, no, he will endure.
"Is this all you have for me?" His voice is shaken, strained, and does not sound as confident as his words imply. He lets his gaze meet with Byleth's, and for as watery as his glowing eyes may be, there's affection behind them, enjoyment, and determination.