Moonspawn (10 page)

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Shuddering from being deprived of release yet again, Kira was in abject torment. Her sex was dripping with lust, her heart aflame from within with terrible hunger.

She was chewing on the gag, fighting to get free to sate her needs.

The sound of the door opening made her immediately go still, listening to the faint traces of stiletto heels approaching her. It was Cassandra, her soft menacing voice trickling through the latex prison and reaching her ears.

‘Are we hungry, my slave? Does your thirst burn in your heart or your loins? Which starvation is of greater importance to you? If you had a choice, which one would you have fulfilled? Your vampire heart wails for blood.

It’s an interesting sensation, isn’t it? More powerful than anything you’ve ever felt before. Nothing comes close to such a thirst. But then again, there is the constant tease of that belt, bringing you so close and then cheating you.

That must be terribly frustrating. Your aching desire for release must be at unprecedented levels. I bet you’d do anything, perform any indignity, accept any man, woman or beast to find release. Wouldn’t you? But not yet. I think you can wait a little longer. First, we’ll have to punish you some more.’

A cupboard opened and the woman was furnished with a weapon before she walked back and around Kira’s helplessly splayed form.

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‘Are we ready for our chastisement, slave?’ she quizzed, pausing, holding off as she waited for the belt to start its next cycle of teasing.

In the soft quiet Kira could only wait and dwell on what was to come. Then the belt started to thrum with animation once more, drilling into her, making her quake with ecstasy.

A shock of warmth was applied to her rear as Cassandra’s hand swept down and clapped to Kira’s buttock. The hand held there, squeezing the flesh, caressing it before the spanking continued with celerity, the woman slapping each buttock in turn, imparting warmth with every swat. The impacts were minor torments, but as they continued they started to gather, conspiring together, making the new ones more and more distressing until Kira was riven with harrowing.

The clapping echo of the beating stopped, Kira’s rear aglow from within, the muscle flicking as the washes of burning sensation continued to flow through it.

Dangling by her hood she was on the verge of relief again, the belt’s assault drawing her ever onwards, the spanking having only accelerated it by arousing her further.

Suddenly a ferocious line of force crossed her rear, the welt exploding a moment later with additional pain. The cane descended again across the other buttock, making Kira strain at the latex, to try and gain air so she might set it free as screams to accurately describe her agony.

Again and again the woman chastised Kira’s rear, leaving her lost within a whirlpool of excruciating travail, unable do anything. She fought to block the blows, to throw an arm down and shield the harried regions, but the jacket prevented it. She tried to get free, but was too 85

well bound; she could do nothing save hang and be subjected to the cruel whims of the woman.

The savaging of her buttocks paused, leaving her exhausted, drained by her fanatic fight to get out. The abuse had eroded her wanton urges, driving them back under the intense pain, leaving her once more at the foot of her build up to relief.

The belt was tickling her within, making the hate she had levied against this treatment start to melt into relish.

Under the delicate vibrations and soft stabs she was soon once more inundated with the need to have more of the cane. While it was applied she loathed it, would have done anything to escape it, but in the cosy afterglow where the belt drew out her bliss and fuelled her frustration, she craved it with all her heart. To be trained like this, to be held in bondage and to suffer so she could attain servile perfection was a dream come true.

‘Would my slave like to be set free now?’ the woman asked. ‘Have you dwelt on what I’ve told you long enough?’

Kira nodded as best she could, fighting the effects of the collar to beg for release.

‘You are sure? Perhaps you want to stay in bondage awhile longer, to really learn your lesson? Is that it?’ she teased, making Kira thrash her head from side to side, barely able to offer the most minor sway against her bonds.

‘Very well… assistants!’ she commanded, and again the swivel of panels allowed the bound women exit to serve the seneschal.

Lowered to the floor, Kira crumbled into an enervated heap, scarcely capable of moving her wearied limbs.

Chains were removed, and the bonds of the skin-tight 86

latex tomb were unfurled, the straps opened, the laces set free, and then peeled from her skin.

At Cassandra’s feet Kira kept her eyes closed, her long sentence of being kept in utter darkness making the meagre light of the room terribly bright. Through a tight squint she could see Cassandra’s thigh boots, the black material winking in the light. She could barely move, every part of her raw and tender. But with a strain she managed to get her arms to her loins and try and open the chastity belt. She needed to give herself relief, but as her fingers slipped and slid against the polished steel it became painfully apparent that there was no hope of even getting a finger under the oppressive crotch-band.

The straps of the gag were released as the bulbs deflated, finally letting her aching jaws close as the saliva-sodden implement was drawn free.

A gloved hand cupped her chin and lifted her jaw from the floor before a finger drew her lips back and then tapped her incisors.

‘Oh yes, you are hungry all right, you must be going insane with the thirst,’ crooned the woman.

‘Please, please seneschal,’ Kira croaked, after drawing her first breath in what seemed like decades.

‘Wait, what have we here?’ she pondered, pulling back her lower lip, and then tapping two pronounced lower teeth. ‘Now this is unexpected. Who would have thought it? We will most definitely have to keep this little secret under wraps,’ she pondered, refusing to explain as she simply let go and backed away.

‘Assistants, pin her down.’

The women moved in and leant their cumulative strength and weight to Kira. One sat across her calves and held to her thighs, the other applied herself to Kira’s 87

rear, and the last two folded her arms across her back before dropping rubber-coated seats onto them.

Grimacing from the strain, Kira watched impotently as Cassandra removed an opaque glass flask from the cabinet. With a twist she removed the cork and stepped forward, passing the lip before her nose and sniffing deeply. Closing her eyes she gave an icy shudder and smiled, her fangs emerging with a creak as she hissed softly and licked her lips.

Coming to her senses from the trance she had seeped into, the seneschal smiled and crouched before Kira, wafting the end under her nose. The scent of blood emerged and entered Kira’s nostrils like a flash flood, the soft smell pouring through her because of her need for it. With a screech Kira launched into paroxysms, trying to get free, her jaws wide with her cry, her twin sets of fangs extending further, anticipating the rending of flesh and tasting of warm blood.

‘Not yet, slave,’ the seneschal purred, and tilted the bottle, pouring a trickle onto the floor. The sight of the thick crimson fluid stretching from the end of the bottle and spattering on the floor increased Kira’s struggle, the assistants having to fight to hold her such was the berserk fury of her need.

Cassandra started to walk away, leaving a dribbling incarnadine trail behind her. Then, straightening up, she poured the rest of the contents down her legs. The sparkling life shimmered as it flowed down the burnished latex thigh boots, winding down, shimmering over the wrinkles in the fabric until it slipped down her heels and across her toes, forming a puddle about her feet.

Kira was insane with hunger. The image of what she needed most slipping down that which she worshipped 88

was too much. With a bellowing howl she threw herself up, flinging off the serviles as though they were straw, her body imbued with new and incredible force. The women collapsed and skidded, tumbling back as they looked up with shock at having been so easily dislodged.

Kira did not even notice as the seneschal waved a hand to stop them from retrying to capture her. Flopping onto the floor, Kira’s tongue spilled forth, lapping the liquid with fanatic speed.

Shaking with pleasure she felt stolen power siphoning through the blood and into her body, charging her nerves, making it feel as though her very structure were renewing itself into a potent form.

Scampering slowly forward she left not one drop behind, fuelling her motions with the blood she stole before reaching the feet of the seneschal. The woman stood with legs slightly apart, her muscles taut and rippling the fabric as she stood tensed and defiant, hands on hips, looking down with a wicked glower upon the grovelling form of Kira.

Her tongue fawned on the latex, the tang of the erotic substance mingling with the copper taint of the blood, creating a cocktail that had her delirious with rapture.

‘That’s it slave, worship me,’ she hissed sibilantly, entranced by Kira’s performance. ‘Worship your mistress!’

Circling around the tight boots, paying slobbering homage to them as she fed, Kira ached to touch herself.

Her only recourse was to covertly tickle her nipples, caressing her teats to bestow herself a meagre bliss, her loins growing humid within the chastity belt as they ached for release from sexual starvation.

The rhapsody pouring across her palate was 89

unbelievably intense, and she was panting with lust as she continued to lap and lick, the feel of the seneschal under her tongue adding immensely to the experience.

Her lips kissed up and down the calves and thighs, suckling up the blood, removing the streaks and stains, stealing every droplet as she relished being humbled so acutely.

Once the last of it was stolen she dropped aside, content beyond measure, even though her enforced abstinence was still a fury beneath the chastity belt.

As she lay and recovered from the feast, Kira felt one of the seneschal’s boots settle onto her shoulder, holding her down as another display of power. Kept underfoot, Kira watched the assistants tidy up in her wake.

A touch to the internal controls had the pits stealing back the manacles and fetters and sealing over once more, their existence lost by the craftsmanship of this room.

The bar was put away, and her latex clothing folded up and placed back in storage.

Standing in a line and to attention, like shadows on parade, they awaited inspection and new instructions by the seneschal.

‘Bring me a leash,’ she ordered, causing one of their number to scamper back and remove a short chain link length with a black leather hoop at one end, a clip at the other.

Cassandra accepted the item and snapped its tip to the front of Kira’s collar.

‘You are all dismissed,’ she stated, and Kira watched as the four trained women returned to their alcoves.

Placing their backs to the revolving panels, the metal bands flicked up and locked with sharp tones, returning them to their bondage. They stood idle within their bonds, 90

struggling a little as the straps started to pull slowly in, tightening to them, pulling them forcefully back against the panel.

Cassandra removed her foot from Kira and placed it before her inert features.

‘Kiss,’ she said succinctly, allowing Kira to place a single peck onto the tip of one of her owner’s magnificent legs.

Without further word the woman strode to the assistants, pulling a tube from the wall and forcing it into a self-sealing socket in their gags.

‘You have served adequately and shall be rewarded with the blessing of her majesty. Accept a renewal of your lives by tasting of living death. Let the blood of the undead restore you as slaves,’ she testified with practised rhythm, the words said naturally, so often had this litany been repeated. But what did it mean? Were they being fed the essence of vampires? What effects did drinking such a potent brew have? These assistants breathed, they were warm, they had the semblance of normal mortals.

But did the ingestion of vampire blood have some other effect on them? To be made one of the undead in full, she assumed the victim had to be drained to the brink of true death before the fresh infusion came. But to simply drink it?

Threading the tubes deep, the seneschal turned a valve at the base and watched as the tinted pipe darkened with the flow of liquid. When it entered their maws, each assistant started to shake and quiver in her bondage, either through discomfort or pleasure, Kira could not tell which.

Stepping back, the slabs whirled around and snapped back into position, removing the females from view. The wall appeared to be totally featureless now. Behind it 91

though, strapped in place, were rubber-bound slaves sealed within tight prisons, unable to do anything as they awaited another chance to break the monotony of their confinement.

The seneschal wandered back to Kira and took up her lead. ‘Come with me, slave,’ she uttered, pulling upward, bringing Kira back to her feet where she swayed like a sapling, her body weak but charged with vitality, ‘we have some new lessons for you.’

She walked from the room, the door opening at her mere approach and bringing them back into the winding passages of the queen’s private domain.

Escorted down the paths, Kira trailed obediently behind her owner, watching with a burning desire the soft saunter of the woman, the latex stretching and winking upon her luscious curves. The entrancing rear tempted her greatly, making her ache to just reach forward and touch it, to bury her face between the perfect cheeks. She knew she would be horrendously punished for it, and her lack of familiarity with such retribution was the only thing that made her resist the urge.

A new door opened, revealing a long rectangular hall.

Along each face were numerous doors, all with a plaque of gold embossed with the strange symbols Kira had seen before, and which marked the collars of all here. Beneath this was another panel, an LCD display, upon which lay one or more of the circular ideograms.