For /y/

"Ah, damn it all to hell." It was no use, Strange thought as he looked down on what would probably be yet another wasted hardon. The computer screen flickered away but images and sound could only do so much. For the first few months, he had blamed it on pride. That a man with his history of conquests would have to go back to hunching over a laptop in the dead of night, there'd certainly be a little trouble to be sure. The pride had healed; The hands had not. Still stiff, still shaking and entirely unsuited to providing the stimulation he'd been lusting after for months. It couldn't have been that long, he thought. The truth was worse, as he counted. It had been even longer. The last real encounter was with some new nurse, a petite little thing with bright hair and wild eyes the staff had practically fed to him in the call room. It made for an awkward few weeks after when all it took was the scent of iodoform and the musky hint of an unwashed body to get him hard again.

Something shifted in the room behind him, sending the kind of terror through him that he had sworn he left back in middle school. Strange scrambled to cover himself and wheeled around, spare hand already sparking orange with the beginnings of a rune shield.

But he saw nothing, until his eyes adjusted a little. Two small, glinting golden wings peeked back at him.

It was that damn cloak again.

The thing was a regular Harry Houdini, it had managed to escape every form of confinement Strange had devised. It would always be back in its glass case in the morning or at his side when he called it. Before, he was content to leave it to its own nocturnal devices. The increasingly ridiculous series of padlocks and trunks, closets and cases were in response to this new habit.

"Third time this week." He sighed and winced, releasing the bit-too-rough modesty clamp he had on his depressingly disused cock. It was far from the first time the cloak had seen him like this. Some other leftover teenage instincts pulled him back to the laptop, closing out browser tabs. "You keep showing up like this, people are gonna think there's something going on..." He expected it to sneak away like it had always done before.

Tonight was different, as he felt the cloak's weight and the cold silk lining slinking up his back and around his shoulders. The collar fluttered against his cheek and gently caressed his jawline. Another corner slipped down and traced along the inside of his thigh.

He tried to stifle a moan but caught only part of it, making a low growling noise from the depth of his chest. The texture on delicate skin flashed from suede to beads to embroidery and back, inching ever upward to its goal. This was really happening, he thought. Sure, it had tried before but Strange had blamed the increasingly brazen fondles and groping on the wind. It was too weird to fathom. It didn't make sense.

Not everything has to, he remembered, and surrendered. "It's rude to tease, you know." He tried to grab hold of the cloak to drag it up faster, impatient as ever.

The cloak clearly didn't care for that one bit as Strange quickly found both of his hands pinned above his head and trussed together in velvet coils. He had a bare moment to gasp and gulp air before his vision was occluded in reds, the silken lining dragging on his beard as he rolled his head into the grasp. It smelled of old books, gunpowder and his own sweat. The weave was so fine it trapped the wetness of his ragged exhales and clung to his face, peeling away in strands and sticking again with each breath.

It was enough distraction that he didn't know when it had stopped rubbing along his thigh or when exactly he had been lifted from the chair. The cloak dragged a much rougher portion of prickling burlap around his shoulder, across a tender peaked nipple. It traced a line downward again, only to stop barely past his navel. His balls throbbed and he knew from the cold sting that his cock was streaming away with pre. He whined a bit and keened even louder when the touch ceased, writhing to liberate his face or hands to no avail. All it afforded was a brief glimpse in a nearby mirror, sweating and drooling with skin rosy from exertion.

Surrender, he thought again. As he relaxed into the cloak, it resumed. He felt a cord, stiff and lumped snaking around his waist and finally settling in to his ass at the top. It had formed into a lovely curve of embossed velvet as it probed away, gently touching first at his tailbone. It prodded at his hole, perhaps harder than it intended. Strange yelped, and shied away from the sensation and was surprised when it did not return. Instead, the touches continued their path, pressing and tapping along the ridge and tender skin until they reached his balls and returned, dragging along back. He knew where it was looking for and saw the same jet of spots and sparks, felt the same near-choking, toe curling pleasure in the cloak's press as he had on those drunken nights of Anatomy 112-fueled experimentation when it rubbed the right place.

So close, so close, but still not enough. The cloak knew, and wanted nothing more than to please its new master. It wrapped the silk lining about his cock, coiling from the head and rolling up and down. If Strange had been worried about getting semen on the Cloak of Levitation it did not show as he thrashed and choked, jerking and thrusting away coming deep into its folds. Gently, it put him back down on the chair and released its hold on his hands and face. Strange knew he was a mess before the cloak finished slipping off his softening cock. Cum spilled away, rolling off the tip and back down the side of his leg, even pooling a little at his heel. His chest heaved, and he didn't protest getting what he could only describe as a kiss on the cheek before his new, bizarre lover slipped away back to whatever it was it did at night.

He grabbed at a towel and started to clean himself, trying to make sense of the encounter that had left him more satisfied than he'd been in years. Aside from a hope for another, he only had one thought as he slipped into bed later.

"I need to wash that cloak before I wear it again."