Moonspawn (26 page)

‘Well, if satisfaction is your goal, I am currently dispositioned to grant you it. Does that please you slave?’

she asked, lifting his chin from his task so she might see his face.

‘Yes, your majesty,’ he simpered, his smile wide. His hand strayed over to enclose the hard rod, the taste of two vampire rears having failed to dwindle its voracity.

‘No, not like that, I have a different method for you, 223

slave,’ she smirked, letting him know full well that it was to be a punishment rather than a reward.

‘Stand up, slave,’ she crooned, causing him to rise, trembling slightly.

With her possession standing, she arose from her chair and sauntered over, her body slithering within the latex skin, graceful and alluring. Reaching up, she presented his wrists towards the cuffs and then slipped them through. With a squeeze they locked in place, the heavy reinforced bands designed to house the most distraught struggles of mortal or supernatural beast. As the queen bound him her latex skin brushed his body, making him start to stiffen further as the smell of her reached his nostrils, kindling his lust, turning his sex to a pillar of stone.

The queen continued her restraint, walking to the wall where she flipped a concealed switch. Immediately the chains started to retract, being drawn in, hauling him from the floor, the metal shackles stretching his arms wide and leaving him hanging cruciform in the air.

The ascent stopped, and the vampiress took a bundle of slender cord and some other objects from a small table as she watched Thanos dangle by his wrists, his toes unable to even brush against the floor.

The queen knelt down, released her cache where he could not see it, and began to use the slender cord to tightly bind his legs together, forming them into a single meshed stalk. The criss-crossing lines pulled in the skin, squeezing it in a choking hold.

Tying a lead cylinder about his ankles, she placed yet more strain upon his already throbbing arms. Thanos scowled slightly and kept his head lowered, watching her from under a furrowed brow as he strove to endure.

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She moved closer and let her hand stray to his collar, clicking on the lock, depriving him of the option of chancing into a form more able to resist her.

Putting her fingers to his lips was the unspoken command for him to lick them. He obeyed with fervour, breathing heavily because of the strain of being so cruelly stretched and suspended.

Watching with a licentious expression, she had her servant suck the digits, treating each one like a small latex phallus.

‘Would my slave like a gag?’ she asked, pulling her fingers slowly back, making him strain forward to continue until he could no longer reach them.

‘Yes, your majesty,’ he whispered.

‘My slave impressed the clan, so he deserves a reward,’

she commented, and stepped back.

Thanos stopped breathing and stared awe-struck as she smiled illicitly and reached up under her dress. Pulling down the thong she stepped from it and lifted it, presenting it to his mouth. He flashed his jaws wide to gather the material, but his efforts were blocked with a finger across his lips.

‘No, not yet… first, smell,’ she stated softly, and then gently placed the fabric across his nostrils, holding it there, letting him drown his senses in the smell of her and the rubber aroma set upon it.

Thanos closed his eyes and quaffed deep snorts, breathing out through his mouth, sucking in every portion of the scent he could before it was lowered and stuffed into his mouth.

Leaving it there without further addition she stepped back. Both knew he would not let it fall, his tongue too eager to taste it, to keep it as a trophy.

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Taking hold of his penis, she lifted the swollen member and cupped her hands around the testicles. Anxiety and fear glistened in his eyes, and he winced as she squeezed them. The vice-like grip rose in ferocity and he wriggled, making the weights dance, and the pain in his stretched frame heighten. Rasping through the gag he looked to her with imploring.

‘All that exercise has made you sweat, and smell. I think a little perfume to mask it is required, don’t you, slave?’ she pondered maliciously, Thanos well aware of what she planned from painful experience.

Maintaining her hold, the queen picked up a bottle of cheap aftershave, and ignoring the dismal stare of the slave, began to liberally sprinkle it onto his scrotum, massaging the burning fluid in.

His shrill cries were stifled by the gag, but his pain manifested itself in intense quivering. It felt as though his groin were soaked in petrol and alight, and no matter how much he fought, the waves of fire continued to bore into him. Yet he was in ecstasy from it, solely because he was suffering for the queen. Once she had been mistress, now, with the city hers, she was his queen, or even his goddess, the deity he worshipped but could not possess, only amuse.

She took a cane from the wall and began to lambaste his buttocks and thighs, casting his suffering to new levels. Thanos could not help but struggle, and this made his situation worse, causing panic to rise as he thought his wrists might dislocate from the abuses visited upon them by his own involuntary throes. No matter how many times he was caned he could never remain impassive towards it. The weapon and the skill with which the queen deployed it always befuddled any hope of quiet stoical 226

endurance.

After a dozen severe strokes the queen stopped and his body became languid from overexertion. The queen smiled and ignored his fatigue, caressing his burning groin until he was erect again. She recommenced the masturbation with swift strokes, making him moan, inflicting pleasure with each shuffling movement.

Despite the torment, he was being tended by the queen, her rubber-sheathed hand handling this act, and his instantly rekindled frustrations could see a means of escape. With a squeal of suffering he finally came, his penis raw and tender, misty orbs spilling from the end as he shuddered in his bonds, his head thrown back, his mouth sucking on the intimate gag.

After milking him dry of all she could gain, the queen moved back and placed her chair before him, settling into it and watching him dangle.

The regal and all powerful vampiress simply sat there, his eyes locked to her gorgeous latex-smoothed body.

For another fifteen minutes he was left to hang and dwell in the stringent bondage pose, his eyes teased cruelly with her salacious physique.

Thanos kept himself dedicated to this study, following every line and curve, aching to lick them, to grovel at her feet and drink in the taste, texture and smell of her.

Such diversions easily made him ignorant of the stress of his bondage, the ache in his arms, the pain that grew in his hands and his wracked legs.

Standing up, she wandered over and released the cuffs, sufficiently pleased with the extent of his torture. He collapsed to the floor, his arms throbbing as circulation returned.

‘Come, slave,’ she ordered, and had him drag his 227

weighted and bound legs, shuffling after her on his hands.

Led through into her bedroom, the empty chamber held only the vast altar upon which she slept. The circular mattress was supported in a cradle of curling towers that reached inward overhead like clawed talons, a nest of organic black spires, covered in winding veins and crooked thorns. A single aperture permitted entry onto the satin sheets, the perimeter dotted with pillows.

Thanos stood and watched with glee as she settled on the edge of the mattress and laid back, propping herself on her elbows, her legs dangling over the side.

‘Take them off, slave,’ she whispered, watching him from beneath her brow.

Settling on his knees before her, his erection throbbing with heat and desire, his hands brushed the patent smoothness, his fingertips gliding on the material.

Reaching in, he drew down the zip, the soft cackle as it descended churning his thoughts with rampant licentiousness.

‘We’ve found your big sister, slave,’ she mused, watching him as he worked. ‘Little Corin has been most anxious to find you.’

Once the zipper reached the bottom he reverently cupped toe and heel, drawing gently to let the footwear slip from her stockinged foot.

‘She’s been searching relentlessly, suffering great hardship in this personal quest. Even her elders have forsaken her. She’s alone, desperate, miserable.’

With equal devotion and utmost respect he removed the other boot, the softest scent of their interior making his head swim.

‘Now the stockings, slave,’ she commanded, and with a slight tremble of excitement to his fingers he started to 228

undo the fastenings, taking a sly chance and delight in being able to touch her bare thighs.

‘I think she deserves a reward too,’ the queen went on.

‘I mean, all that stress, all that fighting and bloodshed. It would be wrong to just kill her. I think we should give her precisely what she wants.’

Thanos knew she was planning to ensnare Corin in her sexual enslavement. Would his sister succumb? He had been easy to train, because of his penchant for female domination, but Corin? She was rigid and inflexible, disdainful of any vice, and he wondered if she had even ever lost her virginity. How then would she react? He knew she would be broken by the queen, for no creature could resist her charms; she was too well-versed in such methods, her ancient wisdom and skill unsurpassed.

One at a time he drew down the fishnet sheaths, knowing he was being rewarded for his show, that this was his gift, and it was one he felt exquisitely honoured to receive.

‘I want you to assist in her capture. To bring her to me so I can enlighten her, relieve her of all these foolish noble thoughts, set her loose to finally enjoy herself.’

Stripping to reveal the elegant limbs beneath, he left the milky-white flesh naked to his gaze, holding her stockings as though they were holy artefacts.

How could he participate in Corin’s arrest? It was not so much the abduction of his older sibling that bothered him, it was the fact that the queen would then devote a massive amount of time to breaking his sister – effectively deserting him. Besides, to bring her down, to reveal his shame to others, that would be a humiliation beyond all others. Yet that was probably precisely the reasoning behind it.

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The assisting and orchestrating of his sister’s capture after she had spent these years methodically fighting to find him, to be shown as a broken and seduced pawn of dark powers and their ancient enemy, it would be the final chapter in his training.

Once this deed was done he was doomed to servitude forever. It did not bother him, but it was a strange sense of finality to be able to see the end approaching, the absolute point of no return. At present he might harbour some hopes of flight in his weaker moments. After this, such dreams would be useless to hold any more.

‘Take out your gag and lick them, slave,’ she crooned, lounging back into the sumptuous folds.

With verve he dove forward and started to lick the cool flesh, letting his tongue drift between her toes, engulf each one and suckle on it until each and every one had been fawned upon.

‘That will do, slave,’ she commented, and used the attended foot to push him back, the toes pressing across his nose and cheek.

‘Hand those to me,’ she commanded, making him offer up his collection of delicate garments.

Taking the panties and one stocking, she placed the wet thong into the fishnet and pushed it back into his mouth. He accepted it willing, closing his eyes and savouring the degradation. Taking the other stocking she looped it around his head, tightening it so that it would help hold the other ball in.

‘Of course, if you fail in her abduction, I cannot have her running around any more. When we were destroying the other houses she made a valuable diversion and assistant to your assassinations, but now I need peace in my city. If you fail, she will have to die,’ the queen stated, 230

the words almost unnoticed, Thanos’ mind fixed to his task, all else lost. She had taken away his obligations to his tribe, to his people, to Gaia; all that was left was devotion to her. She was revealing this to prove that fact, his lack of contemplation on such grave topics just showing him how little they meant in his mind now. Truly he was trained, truly he was hers, forever.

His stiff length was pounding as she retreated back onto the bed, and after reaching under a pillow she retrieved latex replacements. With a teasing show she started to slip her shapely legs into the opaque stockings, drawing them into place and adding the suspenders to them.

‘Come here, slave,’ she ordered, slithering back against the sheets, beckoning him forth.

Thanos softly crept up onto the mattress, staring at her body, aching for fulfilment, to lap at her and toy with himself.

‘Lay face down,’ she said, causing him to spread-eagle himself upon the luxurious sheets.

Thanos looked to the aperture that had provided him access, his mind racing with possibilities.

Another set of her underwear was produced and set across his nostrils, letting him dwell on the scent as she continued her work, retrieving her items from under the pillows, her armaments already placed ahead of time, awaiting the arrival of her slave for their use.

Lengths of metal wire were removed, the thick cable more than adequate to contain his struggles, its severity as a device for restraint making him concerned as to what he was going to face here now that he had gained his rewards. There were always prices to pay for everything the queen gave, the most minute favour or blessing 231

always requiring a stern repayment, the interest factor high for any act of her charity or his pleasure.

She started by tying his ankles to the posts, spreading them wide, stopping him from escaping her, not that he would ever do so.

With harsh hoops and knots she bound his elbows and then his wrists tightly together. Affixing two lengths of rope to the connection between the joints, she cast them behind her.

Taking hold of the two excess coils she sat behind him and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves prior to methodically working a scoop of lubricant into his rear, liberally applying it and covering him both inside and out. The delve of her digits had him snorting with delight, the feel of being opened and explored by her, of being so thoroughly used.