He'd be woken up twice within that span of time. Once when the medicus attended to him, though the practitioner would get barely any acknowledgement from him. Whatever minor tearing had happened in his shoulder was easily dealt with, as well as the fully body ache, from Tseng's enthusiastic first session with him. There was no reason to intervene with the healing, though the medicus attending to him would receive nothing from X'rhun, save for an exhausted side eye.
It was the clothing that caused more of a stir. A bit of wriggling would be right: he'd be woken up again in the process, and the task of dressing him would be complicated somewhat as he tried to put his barely restored strength to use. No luck, of course, he'd not rested nearly long enough, and the medicus wasn't a miracle worker. He knew well the limits of white magic, and there was absolutely no way he'd be restored to fighting fit with the attention he'd gotten. Not consider the exertion he'd been put through. Each and every motion would again cause the plug to shift in him, nullifying that fight even further, until at last his arms were clasped behind him, and he'd be left to a fitful, miserable slumber.
The first thing he'd do upon waking again, of course, was to quietly try and test the bonds that held him, pointedly refusing to look at the risque, scanty little outfit he'd been forced into. Every little twist and tug would be almost highlighted by the material itself, the sheen of fine satin and stockings gleaming atop lean muscle. Never mind how the close fitting top lightly tugged and rubbed against the piercings on his nipples, his thighs shifting to try and protect the rings along his cock from the same.
Utterly degrading, even pulling at his bonds would be a shameful display, causing a warm blush to creep across his face until he was forced to cease all movement. Tseng's presence had been noted, of course, the bound mage casting him a look fraught with dread, coupled with humiliation from the very clear memory of what had just happened not long before. The recollection of his own wild pleading and how quickly he'd fallen to pieces in the other man's hands wouldn't soon be lost to him, the sound of his cracked and broken voice begging to be fucked still ringing in his ears.
Perhaps that was what kept him silent for the moment, waiting instead for Tseng to break the quiet.
no subject
It was the clothing that caused more of a stir. A bit of wriggling would be right: he'd be woken up again in the process, and the task of dressing him would be complicated somewhat as he tried to put his barely restored strength to use. No luck, of course, he'd not rested nearly long enough, and the medicus wasn't a miracle worker. He knew well the limits of white magic, and there was absolutely no way he'd be restored to fighting fit with the attention he'd gotten. Not consider the exertion he'd been put through. Each and every motion would again cause the plug to shift in him, nullifying that fight even further, until at last his arms were clasped behind him, and he'd be left to a fitful, miserable slumber.
The first thing he'd do upon waking again, of course, was to quietly try and test the bonds that held him, pointedly refusing to look at the risque, scanty little outfit he'd been forced into. Every little twist and tug would be almost highlighted by the material itself, the sheen of fine satin and stockings gleaming atop lean muscle. Never mind how the close fitting top lightly tugged and rubbed against the piercings on his nipples, his thighs shifting to try and protect the rings along his cock from the same.
Utterly degrading, even pulling at his bonds would be a shameful display, causing a warm blush to creep across his face until he was forced to cease all movement. Tseng's presence had been noted, of course, the bound mage casting him a look fraught with dread, coupled with humiliation from the very clear memory of what had just happened not long before. The recollection of his own wild pleading and how quickly he'd fallen to pieces in the other man's hands wouldn't soon be lost to him, the sound of his cracked and broken voice begging to be fucked still ringing in his ears.
Perhaps that was what kept him silent for the moment, waiting instead for Tseng to break the quiet.