Mistress of the Undead

by Isabelle Drake

  An ordinary coupling wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy these freaks.

  Hayden threw off his cloak, felt the smoke-filled air coat his skin. When he thrust his shoulders back, his nipples peaked from the chill. He pulled a smoke-tinged breath deep into his lungs, held it tight, then let it burst out in a rush as he looked at Matthew. “Get me a rope.”

  Matthew’s hands actually paused, but of course he didn’t let go of his dick. “Now you’re talking.” He motioned to the guard by the door. “Go get it.” The guard ducked out, the beads in the doorway rattled against the door frame. Rachelle’s giggling had stopped, and she’d moved closer to Matthew, started whispering in his ear.

  Hayden went to the girl, knelt, grabbed her shoulders.

  She stretched, pushing her body into his grip, and lifted her head like a cat. He recognized her tea-stained eyes. But was that a glimmer of green hiding in the vacant depths?

  “Why do you want this?” he whispered.

  “They like me.” She looked past his shoulder as she pulled her lips into a smile. “They’re my new best friends. I want to learn to be part of the show. Make them happy. Get things.”

  He didn’t want to imagine what rewards those two had offered this girl for letting herself be defiled for their entertainment. He lowered his voice but tried to get her attention by leaning forward. Not nose to nose close, but close enough to force her gaze to his. Close enough to smell her skin. “They’re not your friends. They’re not even each other’s friends.”

  Her fake smile fell away as she put her face nose to nose with his.

  What was that scent?

  “What do you know about friends?” she asked. “About loyalty?” She spoke so softly he couldn’t be certain she’d actually said it. Or had it been a voice in his head? She moved back, her lips pressed together as she shrugged, now trying to look casual. Or maybe she was. Maybe none of this was as twisted and disgusting as he thought. And maybe he was imagining that pale emerald passing through her gaze.

  “Why do you want to get in the crypt?” she asked.

  Mattie. No, he told himself. Don’t.

  Belmont and he had agreed to meet up in there. This without knowing for certain they could each get in, but still, that was the deal they’d made. “My friend is in there.” He swallowed, forcing the hot bile back down his throat as he remembered Mattie, turning stiff and silent beneath him. It hadn’t been his fault, he told himself again.

  “Oh, Mister Sensitive. Look at your sad, sad mouth.” She snorted, the motion distorting her entire face. “You’re allowed to have friends, but I’m not?”

  Still no sign of the guard who’d gone for the rope. Rachelle and Matthew were cuddled up on Matthew’s chair, and she was telling him something. Or explaining? Or asking?

  Hayden flicked his gaze across the girl’s naked body contorted by her crouch. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed, trying to knock him over. She was weak and inexperienced. Easy to outmaneuver.

  Leaning in harder, so she couldn’t force him to move, he asked, “Think about it. Why do you want this?”

  It was her turn to swallow, the sharp motion making her chin lift. “Same reason as you.” She stopped pushing him. “I came here for the agony. More pain to stop the pain. I want you to tear the misery out of my body.” She clenched her jaw, hissed through her gritted teeth, then whispered. “Tear me out of my own body, Mister Sadface.” She dropped back onto her ass and spread her legs apart and spoke again, only this time louder. “Tear me apart, Hayden. Torture me. Make me hurt more than I already do.”

  He leaned forward, bracing himself between her legs. “Why? Why do you hurt?”

  “What does it matter? I do. So, do you. Make me suffer so bad my whole body turns numb.” She winced, her face contorted, green light coming from somewhere in Matthew’s cabin flickering in the back of her eyes. “I have a promise for you. Hurt me bad enough and you’ll feel the pain too. We’ll share the anguish.”

  The beads rattled. Boots thudded. “Come get it, playboy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Hayden rolled back on his heels, caught himself when he lost his balance, then shoved himself upright. The guard was holding the coiled rope in one fist. In his other hand, he held a small vile. He lifted the rope toward Hayden, the vile he lifted towards Matthew and Rachelle. “Found this outside, near the door.” Matthew held his open palm out and jerked his chin. The guard tossed the vile. Matthew snatched it out of the air. After the guard threw the rope near Hayden, the man turned, gave the girl crouched in the cage the once over, then stomped out. Again, the beads smacked the wood, rattling as the guard retreated down the hall.

  Hayden grabbed the rope, stoking it with his palm as he uncoiled it. The rough brown fibers were stiff. Unyielding.

  The girl was in front of him, still crouched. Mattie would’ve fought. Rachelle would have taunted. This girl simply waited.

  Behind him, he heard Rachelle. “What is it?”

  There was a scuffle, probably her trying to snatch the bottle from Matthew.

  Making a big deal of circling the girl in front of him, Hayden strained to hear Matthew’s reply. “Must be some shit Belmont had stashed away somewhere.”

  “I want to see it. Let me have it.” Rachelle said, her arms waving.

  “You want to hurt? To feel unending pain?” Hayden asked the girl as he walked slowly around the cage, shaking the thick rope behind him and concentrating on listening to Matthew and Rachelle. Hayden paused at the back, by the wall, and used lifting the rope as an excuse to check on what was happening with the bottle. 23UT. The bottle he’d brought with him and managed to get all the way to Matthew’s cabin before having to toss it for fear of discovery.

  The girl on the floor pulled her hair away from her face, wound it around her neck, pulled, then called out, “Am I doing it right, Matthew?”

  “Go with what feels good,” he called back, now opening the top of the bottle to smell the contents. “Make sure you get what you need.” Matthew glanced at Hayden, his eyes sharp. “That’s all that matters.”

  Rachelle nodded, her chin bobbing up and down as she took the bottle from Matthew to also smell the small glass rod attached to the top.

  Hayden shook the rope, letting the heavy ends thump against the floor as he continued to watch the location of the bottle. After replacing the top, Rachelle whispered something to Matthew, then set it on the small table beside Matthew’s chair.

  “I can make you hurt, baby.” Hayden said. “I can make your fantasies come true.”

  She yanked on her bright hair, cutting into her neck as she looked toward Matthew then nodded.

  It was easy. She was too easy.

  “What are you waiting for, Hayden?” Matthew barked from his chair.

  The girl blinked. Still waiting.

  Rachelle giggled.

  Hayden’s guts churned. His muscles tensed. His soul quivered.

  The girl flipped herself over. She was on her hands and knees with her ass square in his view. She rocked her hips side to side, exposing her dark hole. “What are you waiting for Mr. I-don’t-have-a-horse-dick?”

  He put his foot on her ass, pushed to knock her onto her stomach. “No more name-calling, little bitch.”

  She fell with a thump and whimper.

  Rachelle shrieked with laughter, cheering with her arms in the air, she yelled over to him. “Way to go, Hayden!”

  “You think I’m going to fuck you like that?” He circled her, pulling the rope across his palms. “Boring.”

  She scrambled to get back up onto her hands and knees.

  “Crawl forward and don’t stop until your face hits the wall,” he said, circling her.

  She started slowly but picked up speed, her knees bouncing, her hair hanging in her face. Once her nose pressed into one of the logs, she stopped.

  He didn’t want to enjoy the way she followed his every command. But still, that sense of power was there when he barked the next order. “Ro
ll over.”

  She did what he said, flipped onto her back in one quick roll.

  Yes. That’s right, little bitch.

  Hayden wanted to pull the thought from his mind, wanted to blame it on the camp, its atmosphere, and the creatures surrounding him.

  “I want to play!” Rachelle had come over to the cage and was making pathetic mewling sounds. “I want to be part of the show!”

  Hayden turned his back on her to bark at the girl. “Lift your hands.”

  Again, she did what she was told.

  Again, he knew the satisfaction of being in control.

  Once he had a hold of her wrists, he wrapped the rope around them and knotted it. The line was too thick to hold the wrists firmly, so he tucked the free strand between her hands and tugged. Satisfied that the knot would do the trick, he yanked, spinning her around so that her feet brushed the spot where her head had been. He threw the loose end upward, trying to get the end over the top bar of the cage. His first two attempts netted nothing but on the third try he got it over. He fed the end over until it became taut, then he pulled and kept pulling until her body started to lift from the floor, her stomach sliding across the rough ground, bright red scratches marked the places where the nails cut into her soft skin. A trickle of blood ran down her stomach making a jagged trail of red to her crotch. He stopped pulling when she was balancing on her knees.

  She looked up at him, whimpering slightly, blood running in streams down her stomach. Her breasts were scraped, her face puffy, eyes glazed but definitely green.

  “You know how I know you aren’t hurting all that badly?” he asked over Rachelle’s continued noise.

  She pressed her lips together, a soft moan rising from her chest.

  “You’re still making noise.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You too, Rachelle. Shut the fuck up.”

  “I want in,” she said, squirming and wiggling from the desire inside her.

  “It’s my show,” he replied. He had no choice, he had to do it. And so, he wanted it to be all about him for a change.

  The girl dropped her head, placed her whole-body weight on the rope, swaying. He grabbed the top of her head, squeezed and held her still. “Don’t make a fucking sound unless I tell you.”

  “You’re making noise too,” Rachelle said from outside the cage.

  Hayden spun, glared at her.

  The girl had stopped moving. Stopped making noise. Her eyes were greener still, bright and raw.

  Rachelle banged her hand on the bars. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get to work? You aren’t here to give lessons. You’re here to entertain.”

  Entertain.

  Still holding the end of the rope, he shoved the girl back. She toppled over, her legs shooting out beside her as she landed in a heap on her side. With her silent gaze fixed on him, he started tugging on the rope, hauling her upward. Each time he yanked, her body twitched, her arms jerking in her shoulder sockets. He reminded himself to go more slowly, giving himself the time to come up with something exciting enough. Horrible enough to satisfy Matthew.

  The girl started whimpering again, but this time he let her. The pathetic, weak noise added to the mood, made him look more cruel than he was. Than he felt. He wasn’t that cruel. He was doing what they all wanted. Soon she was on her knees again, sniffling, her tangled hair hanging in her face. He tugged. Her calves rose. He tugged. Her calves rose again then she stood on her feet.

  He yanked, and her feet rose off the floor. She spun in tight circles, her hair now flying outward from the momentum. As her spiral of motion slowed, he got the start of an idea. By the time she was steady, he knew the one thing he could do that would achieve what he wanted.

  “Rachelle, you want in on this?” he asked.

  She opened the cage door, stood staring at him with squinted eyes. “You know I’m Matthew’s toy now, right. You’ll never get me back.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “I don’t want you back. I want you to be part of the show. If that’s what you want, anyway.”

  She moved into the cage, eyeing the girl, bloody and spinning slowly on the rope.

  “Come in. I dare you,” he said.

  “Are you just doing this to piss me off?” Matthew asked, now at the cage door.

  “Why? Is this pissing you off?” Hayden reached out to shove the girl, making her spin faster, green eyes flashing. “You afraid of… something, Matthew?”

  He propped one hand on his hip. “Fuck you.”

  Hayden gestured to his own erect cock. “Fuck someone. That’s the idea isn’t it?”

  “You want Rachelle?” Matthew held up the vial, moonlight gleaming across his bald head. “Snort this first.”

  Hayden eyed the small bottle pinched between Matthew’s long pale fingers.

  “A dare for a darer.” Rachelle tossed her head back and laughed. “Now who’s the pussy?”

  “Bring it to me,” Hayden said to her.

  She skipped back to Matthew who placed it in her outstretched palm. She leaned forward, cupped her other hand to his ear and scooted close to whisper something. Hayden watched the man’s face, but his expression revealed nothing. That bile started to churn. Finally, Matthew turned his head to reply to Rachelle, a sneer of a smile crossed over her lips.

  She held the vile over her head. “Want this?”

  Deciding he better play along until he got his mental footing, he nodded. “You know I do.”

  She came into the cage, rolling the vile between her hands. Back and forth she worked it. Each time she shot one hand forward, her breasts bounced, the rhythm working into a nice steady beat that shook her tits like a dancer’s. He remembered her handling his cock that way, back when they’d first met. Her small hands were strong and capable. All those travel sports teams growing up had made her agile and strong, he’d supposed back then. Now, he was wondering if it wasn’t something else. Something dark and disturbing. Something he really should have spotted when they’d first met.

  She noticed him watching, grinned and did a stage-worthy shimmy. Her small tits nearly spun in circles. Something he really would’ve loved. Before.

  “Come suck on my boobs,” she said. “I want to feel your mouth on me.”

  He took a step forward. She burst out laughing as she twisted the top off the small bottle. “You wish, asshole.” She smelled the contents of the bottle then held it out for Hayden. “Snorty, snort time, baby.”

  He moved but stopped when he heard the noise behind him. The thing on the rope started to growl. It was a low, rough, deep-throated noise that belied her size and earlier weakness. It came again, rumbling deeper, rougher.

  “Sounds like she’s getting her second wind. Better get your dick in her, Hayden.” Matthew chuckled. “Or you aren’t going to like what happens when that rope breaks.”

  The rope started to shake, making an ear-straining hum. Her body was stiffening, her arms getting visibly taut.

  “Get it in while you can,” Matthew said, still laughing.

  Rachelle crossed over to turn the thing’s face to her. Its eyes were so green, Rachelle’s own face reflected the vibrant color. She turned her head to Hayden, glanced down at his softening dick. “Want me to help you with that?” Chortling with wild laughter, she dashed out of the cage, shut the door.

  The thing on the rope hissed, gnashed its teeth. Vicious. Nasty. Wild. Exactly like the creatures in McKinon’s cages.

  Fuck it or get torn apart by it. Those were his two choices.

  Hayden reached down, started to stroke his cock. His shaft was warm and soft, but soon that changed. Thanks to the adrenaline flashing through his body, it didn’t take long for him to get ready to save his life.

  The thing continued to growl, and now its legs were in spasms, jerking up and down, then swinging outward. When the legs stopped, the arms would start, pulling her upward, teeth trying to gnaw at the rope.

  He went to the thing, tried to not hear its growls or the chattering of its teeth. The green
eyes rolled in circles, not seeing, not knowing. He grabbed its cool, bare hips, put his dick between its ass cheeks. Above, the rope tightened, strained against the wood beam and it pulled, its arms strong, much too strong. He pushed in, feeling its cool, tight pussy squeeze his cock. It snapped its teeth, fought against his invasion, he held tight to its hips, thrust in, started pumping.

  Rachele watched, her mouth open, eyes wide, chest heaving from quick breaths. Matthew’s gaze darted between the wooden beam, groaning from the pull of the beast, and Hayden’s hands, squeezing hard on the flesh of her ass. “Fuck faster, dude. Hurry up.” Matthew locked the door and moved back. “She won’t stop after she eats your face off, and my face is too pretty to get torn to shreds.”

  Still right by the cage door, Rachelle had one hand wrapped around bar, face between the slats. “Do it, Hayden.” She yelled over the thing’s shrieks. “Make her right.”

  Still pumping, Hayden closed his eyes, fought the desire to stop and flee. There was nowhere to run to. So, he continued thrusting, shoving his cock in and out, hips flexing, leg muscles tight and hard. Gradually her gnashing slowed, and she started to buck backwards, doing what she could to deepen the drives. Her growls changed into grunts. Her fighting for freedom turned into fighting for release. Together they thrashed, their bodies finally syncing, joining, driving each deeper into the abyss of lust and carnal hunger.

  The first drops of cum spilled into her as she mewled as the edges of her own release started to circle and tighten. Her pussy squeezed his cock, grabbed hold of his shaft, and so he ground in to her, his jaws clenching from the tensions coiling through his body, pulling him deeper and faster to the hideous place in the far corner of his mind where this behavior was more than acceptable, it was good, the pleasure right. Then it happened, the full force of his orgasm, starting in the tip of his dick, crawling its way inward, through his guts, freezing his muscles hard and stealing what was left of his consciousness.