Moonspawn (12 page)

‘We have existed since the dawn of time itself, and shall exist to the end of all things. We never age, we cannot be stricken by illness, and we can never truly die.

Though we still feel pleasure.’

Moving closer, she ran a hand down the metal band of Kira’s crotch band. As though in answer the device sprung into life, resonating within Kira’s womb, making her dance on tiptoe, skipping from one foot to the next as the intense flare of feeling started to pour back into her.

‘And pain…’ the woman chuckled, and thrashed through the air, slamming the cane across Kira’s rear.

Instantly Kira jerked and let her scream spill around the gag as her legs gave out beneath her, leaving her momentarily suspended by the jacket. The rings at her 101

breasts seemed to tighten, afflicting them until she dropped her feet back to the mirrored floor and helped alleviate the stress.

‘I shall now address some of the issues relating to your un-life. Your heart is your life,’ she stated, and applied the sceptre of chastisement again, crossing the previous, marking Kira’s rear with a flushed X, the skin rising into a raised trench, like the sting of nettles. Kira screeched and danced for the woman, the pain slowly withdrawing, letting her give herself back to the pleasure of the belt.

‘It is the organ that pulls the stolen vitality you imbibed through your veins, keeping the years you steal at bay, regenerating your body, giving you strength, stamina and speed beyond any mortal equal. We feed on the souls, on the essence of the living, drawing on it through the attachment to the physical form. Via the bodies of our prey we gain the energy that we use to sustain us.

Drinking the blood is the quickest, easiest and most efficient way of doing this. While you feed, you will never age.

‘But without blood you will eventually lapse into coma, and finally, your body will die and you will start to return to your true age,’ continued the stern lecturer, adding another slash of her weapon. She caught Kira near the base of her buttocks, the join between thigh and rear where she was most vulnerable. Airing a squawk of suffering Kira drew her shins up, trying to soothe and protect the burning welt as she cried and tried to break free. The effects of the stroke started to again subside, and her feet slowly sank back down.

The woman removed the cigar and checked its length before holding it out, making the girl accept another barren meal before it was restored to her lips.

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‘Damage to your heart will disable you, but we regenerate swiftly, and unless the organ is pierced by a non-conductive weapon that is left there to prevent restoration, you will recover. Thus stakes are the most lethal tool in the arsenal of our enemies,’ she said, and applied a pair of swift hacks, eating into Kira’s rear, making tears trickle from her eyes, tumbling out to spatter against the floor.

‘Sunlight will make you immediately assume your true age. The science we have levied to this matter has yet to determine why, for it is not UV, or radiation, it is some as yet undiscovered solar trait.

‘The effects are not limited to daytime either, for an extremely radiant full moon will have sufficient power of reflected sunlight to cause you pain,’ came the next revelation, and the cane came with it to make sure she kept her attention firmly to them. Grizzling, she tried to beg for mercy, but nothing intelligible could get through the cruel ball-gag.

‘Silver can be toxic to us, depending on your blood.

The rest of the fables are conjurations we have cultivated and encouraged, to have enemies wield them in the hope of them proving useful and thus give our number an advantage. However, there is an exception. The myth concerning our inability to cross running water has some vague basis. Sea crossings and voyages are avoided by the paranoid, for should an accident occur our lack of need to respire gives us no buoyancy, and thus we sink until pressure crushes us, or we have to spend laborious hours trekking undersea towards land while dawn looms and threatens our destruction.’

In the reflections of the mirror Kira could already see the earlier strokes deepening to a vibrant purple and some 103

were already fading to a mottled yellow, her body erasing the contusions, working at a speed that made minutes into what ordinarily would take days.

‘The work of nature and man are not the only threats to our un-lives; the attack of occult forces will visit the most grievous damage to us, and I will tell you a little about them,’ she stated, and thrashed Kira’s rear again, beating back the tide of bliss the belt was conjuring. The rising relief and the session of punishment, the sight of the mistress, were all making the cane a more treasured companion, one she was almost welcoming.

The woman paced back and forth as she spoke, the cane-wielding arm placed around her abdomen, the other crooked, her wrist limp to let the cigar dangle, leaving wafting trails as she walked and continued the lecture.

‘The Lupine. Lycanthropes, shape shifters, werewolves, they can summon forth the power of the earth, a power they deify and call Gaia. They use this energy to transform themselves through various stages towards that of a man-beast. They act as guardians to nature, and as such, will kill any vampire they come across as an affront to the natural order of things. Because we do not age, because we pilfer life to sustain ours, and because we expand our city empires at the expense of their lands, we are arch enemies. The corporations and businesses we control and use to protect and fund ourselves pollute their land in a conscious effort to weaken them, for in a direct conflict we are little match for such beasts.’ She stopped to launch a trio of harsh thwacks into Kira’s rear. They made her screech and shake, then as the flashing torment started to fade she was wriggling her rump, savouring the pain as the belt continued to play her innards like an instrument, 104

conducting a song of ecstasy.

The woman watched for a moment, drawing another drag of the cigar, holding it as she looked over Kira’s rear, and then expelled it to continue talking.

‘Their claws and fangs will cause trauma we find exceedingly laborious to heal, and they can prove fatal by disrupting our own sustaining dark force,’ added the trainer, teaching Kira’s rear another sharp lesson in pain, save that now she was inviting it, her hunger for the abuse being cultivated the longer the belt worked against her.

‘They also have a dark side to them. These fallen tribes of Lupine follow the Wyrm, an antithesis of Gaia, a power of malevolence they tap to conjure their transformations.

They will attack vampire-kind just as readily. Some tribes call vampire houses allies, but only ones that have proved themselves to these dark brethren,’ and again the cane echoed its cruel signal through the room, making Kira sob, her legs shaking as she drank in the sensation, feeling the scorching warmth flow through her.

‘Then there are the Shaman. These are mortals who have assimilated the powers of manipulating the earth forces. These are forces derived from life, and thus are beyond our control. Shaman cults owe fealty to either Gaia, or the Wyrm, and battle constantly for supremacy.

The Lupines prey upon either just as fanatically, deeming the use of earth force for acts of sorcery a violation against that which they seek to protect and honour.’ Again Kira relished the impact of the cane across her chastised rear, the first weals almost having vanished without trace.

‘Their spells can be devastating to us, but they are mortal and fall easily to vampire-kind. However, they can craft weapons of occult configuration, imbuing objects with power so they can harm us in the same way 105

the natural weapons of the Lupines do. These artefacts again disrupt undead life force and can readily kill our bodies.

‘Should any of these methods result in the ending of your un-life, either through making you assume your true age once your body is too old to endure such years, or through the infliction of grievous trauma, you can be restored. Blood poured onto your remains will heal the flesh, giving you back the lost years until you regain awareness. The more years that you have been a vampire, the more blood is required to push them back and allow you to regenerate. At the present time your corpse will be little different to that of a mortal, and the affliction of your true age by the sun will not prove fatal, although the process will cause extreme distress. But as the decades pass, when you perish, the accrued years will reduce you in moments to that of a skeleton, or if you reach extreme age – dust.’ She finished with a final series of swinging underhand attacks that lifted Kira to her toes, crying out in delight and pain as she was savaged.

Kira swayed, her tears still flowing, the position growing uncomfortable, her back aching from being kept folded thus.

‘I will now leave you to dwell on these lessons,’ stated the woman, replacing the cane and putting the short stub of the cigar in her teeth.

With a snap of her fingers she summoned the girl to follow, and sidled equably from the room, her face broad with merriment, her desire to cause pain one that brought her the most profound satisfaction in her work.

With a final glance across the elegant rubber anatomy of the woman who had trained her, and the naked shaven rear of the crawling girl, Kira was left to isolation.

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The belt continued to build her towards climax, the loss of dissuading outside stimuli having her devoting her mind to it, filling her thoughts with lecherous dreams about Cassandra.

As she hung on the edge of relief, awaiting the sudden stop that would only feed her angst, the belt turned from a beloved though irritating companion, to a far more mordant comrade.

Sudden flicking shocks started to apply their voltage teeth to her womb and anus, scratching at her clitoris with painful jolts. Squeaking in distress, she winced as the sporadic gnaw of the belt was fired into her loins, making her jerk and cry out as she was ruthlessly and efficiently chastised. The electrical discipline shoved her back away from release at a fervid rate, and once sufficiently calmed by the abuse, the shocks gave way to thrumming bliss once more.

Kira struggled against her bonds, unable to discern what she should do. She wanted to get out, to break free, the prospect of being continually subjected to delectable caresses and then savaging shocks was too much for her to cope with.

Again she was drawn to the brink of release, and again the electrical flashes were sent careering through her most sensitive areas, making her squeal in abject dismay as she was subjected to this terrible maltreatment.

The unrelenting ordeal left her little option but to focus 107

on her lessons, for it was the only and best way to distract herself, to avoid dwelling on the eventual fate as the belt built her towards climax once more, the offer of orgasm a cruel joke, the relief actually being hidden sexual mayhem.

Werewolves, wizards… it all sounded so ridiculous.

Yet here she was, a slave of vampires, a vampire herself.

And if they fed on the soul of their victims via the flesh, did that not prove that the soul was real? And in this case, was there not an afterlife too? Such a confirmation of something so intangible and spiritual was frightening, more so for the truth that she would never access it. She would exist forever, unable to die. Even when her flesh was destroyed she would simply be awaiting a time when blood splashed her remains and started the process of recovery. But where would she dwell during this period?

Would she just cease to be? Would it be like going in for surgery; one minute she closed her eyes, the next she opens them as though no time had elapsed? Or would she dwell in limbo, aware, deprived of form, a ghost?

For hours she was fed through the opposing trials of the belt, each one ferrying her to and from orgasm with regular and unwavering devotion. Hanging in her bondage, it seemed like an eternity before her teacher strode back in. Shaking in turmoil as the belt built her towards another dose of shocks, she prayed that the woman would release her before the punitive session started again.

The woman was still in her red attire, and this time she held a crop and the leash once more, and the leash was not left idle. A girl of Japanese heritage, her dark hair hanging about her as a sable curtain, was being led forth into the room. She was like a miniature female, her curves 108

soft and inviting, her breasts barely a handful but succulent to the eyes, and around her was a cloak of submissiveness, inviting others to bind her and use her for their pleasure.

Their tutor let the door close and then removed the gag from Kira’s lips, drawing the wet ball free.

‘Has my slave been learning her lessons?’ she quizzed, cupping Kira’s chin and lifting, making her neck ache as she strained to behold her tormentor.

‘Yes, Lady Strafe,’ she replied, recalling the title she was supposed to use for any of loftier stature than herself.

‘I can see those hungry eyes looking over this nubile little flower. I bet you would love to taste her, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, Lady Strafe,’ she replied eagerly, squirming against the rubber as the girl caught her licentious stare in the mirrors, the chastity belt bringing her ever closer to another session of abuse.

‘Would you like to give her some compensation before she starts her sentence?’ offered the woman, pulling out the cable attached to Kira’s loins, making her sigh with relief as the belt continued, filling her with prurient lust, but promising no more of the baleful shocks.

‘Yes, Lady Strafe, yes I would,’ she whimpered, her toes jiggling in their bonds as the automated masturbation continued unabated.

‘There will be no relief for you, though,’ revealed the woman, drawing in the leash to bring the girl closer. ‘This is merely an act of generosity on my part.’

Kira looked up across her supple frame, the slave girl looking down at her with expectation but also worry, for she seemed to sense that she would soon be bound in the configuration Kira now displayed.

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‘Well, get going then, slave,’ the woman grumbled, and swatted the crop first across the girl’s rear to make her yelp, and then down onto Kira’s.