Gift of the Nightflyer

by Sultry Summers

  “I don’t care. Did you ask if I wanted your gift? No! So now I’m going to give you a little gift and I suspect you will enjoy it.” He produced a reed and struck her across her flat stomach. She cried out and he struck her again. “Each time you cry out or do something that displeases me you will feel the reed’s bite.” Ignatio kissed her. He lay the thin reed aside. Ignatio fingers pinched her nipples cruelly and watched as she bit her lips to keep from crying out. He began to suck them and nipped at the now sensitive nipples. Ignatio nicked one slightly and caused a droplet of blood to ooze from it. He tongued it up. “Ah, a lady vampire’s own blood,” Ignatio teased. Slowly he kissed her down her stomach to her navel over her flat abdomen to her wet sex. Ignatio pulled her cunny lips apart by the gold rings, ignoring her tears, he turned his tongue and teeth on her pussy lips. He plunged his tongue deep into her vagina. She could feel his fangs nicking her, not hard enough to pierce the skin, just enough to let her know they touched her. Despite herself, Leslie’s body arched to meet his tongue and sobbed for more. Her body was on fire, craving him.

  “Please, Ignatio, please, take me now, please I am on fire for your cock. No more teasing please,” Leslie begged.

  Ignatio stopped and Leslie thought he wasn’t going to satisfy her. Instead, he forced a knotted piece of lace between her red lips after he had kissed her and tied it quickly behind her head.

  “Not yet my sweet, but I grow tired of your pleas.” Ignatio knew she could see his fully aroused cock and hungered for it. His mighty organ stood straight and proud, arrayed in fuchsia glory ready to satisfy her. Ignatio pushed a finger deep inside her swollen and sodden vagina.

  Leslie groaned and closed her eyes, thankful for some release. Ignatio withdrew the finger and massaged her anus. Leslie tried to move away.

  “Leslie, will I need to tie your legs also?”

  Her eyes flew open wide. She shook her head no. Now she suspected what he had in mind for her.

  “Good, lay still and do try and relax.” He inserted his finger deep into her vagina to lubricate it and withdrew the digit to massage her anus stretching the pouting, tight orifice. He withdrew it and pushed two inside her vagina, then stimulated her with the two.

  Leslie wasn’t surprised when he removed them and began to work them inside her anus. She forced herself to relax, tears streaming down her face.

  Something hard and cold touched her nether lips. She could not see what it was. Ignatio rubbed her cunt lips with it. It was round and not very big. Oh, what was he doing to her and with what? Leslie wondered but could not ask. She felt him insert it inside her. Closing her eyes, she moaned. She fought not to admit to herself how good the phallus soothed her burning sex. Ignatio laughed at her, and she hated him at that moment, but her hips began to move as he gently moved it inside her, his fingers remained embedded in her anus.

  “Feels good doesn’t it Leslie?” Ignatio asked. “Oh I’m sorry.” He said with another cruel laugh. “You can’t answer.” He withdrew his fingers and the device in her vagina and slowly began to work it into her anus. “This little gift” he stressed “is called a butt plug. I obtained it in the last large city we visited. Get accustomed to it Leslie, there will be times I will require you to wear it.” He smiled when she opened her eyes in amazement and denial. “Yes my dear you will wear it.” Ignatio assured her as I have told you. You will do as I say.” With a cruel laugh, he pushed her legs further apart, and buried himself inside her and ignored her muted cry of protest.

  Ignatio rode her hard. Her body responded to him, and the foreign toy he had placed securely in her anus fulfilling his predictions of her enjoyment. He was right; he controlled her. What he did humiliated her, but she loved it. Since Ignatio had restrained her, any guilt at enjoyment was taken from her, and she was free to indulge in the perversity of his actions. Suddenly he stopped, just as she climaxed, Leslie knew he had held back and he withdrew from her. Her body was screaming for more.

  He smiled down at her and slowly eased the torturous butt plug from her body, she felt relief flood her; but the smile on Ignatio’s face was told her what was to come. She whimpered a little and moved.

  “I will tie you, Leslie, that is your last warning,” Ignatio said coldly as he positioned himself and raised her hips. With a quick couple of strokes inside her vagina to lubricate his cock, he positioned himself at the opening to her virginal anus and began to push.

  Gagged though she was, she cried out and tears streamed down her face. “Hurt?” he asked cruelly. She nodded, he pushed a little more and withdrew, to again enter her vagina and wet his throbbing cock, then push back into her anus. He repeated this procedure several times until he embedded his massive dick completely inside her rear opening. Ignatio stopped and lay full on Leslie to allow her to adjust to him. She sobbed, he licked her tears away, kissed her face and sucked her breasts to sooth her. His hands massaged her clit to stimulate her, until she was again on the verge of climax and when she was, he slowly began to move. Ignatio plunged two fingers back inside her vagina, first removing the gag from her mouth.

  “I think I hate you,” were Leslie’s first words to him.

  Ignatio laughed. “No you don’t, you’ve never climaxed like this before, but I promise you will again and again.”

  “You hurt me!” Leslie protested.

  “There are some forms of pain that bring sexual pleasure, Leslie. This is one of them. Tell me true, have you ever had an orgasm like this before?”

  “No,” she admitted grudgingly.

  “Good, my dear, I am glad you enjoyed it after all because I have other surprises for you in the future.” Ignatio laughed.

  “Are not these rings enough?” Leslie asked. “I will not permit any other.”

  “Oh but you will my dear,” Ignatio smiled and Leslie knew she would permit whatever he wanted.

  “Can you no longer make simple love to me?” Leslie gasped between his driving strokes into her body, even as she reached her orgasm and Ignatio pushed her further until he reached his own release.

  Drawing a great breath, his dark eyes glistening down into hers, he growled. “You achieved your pleasure, madam, as I promised.” He withdrew from her and went to bathe.

  Ignatio had, when Leslie bestowed this gift upon him, felt the power and strength of it, and enjoyed her endowment. Now, however, the lack of daylight rides through the clover on Thor and the look of terror on his victim’s faces, only served to dull the pain of his lost humanity, and he hated it. Today when he had seen the young couple, even before he’d seen the woman’s condition, sympathy had touched Ignatio. Their lack of instant fear of him had moved him to compassion for their plight. It had been a long time since he had talked with another person who didn’t immediately fear him and by nightfall they would possibly be gone. Carloff would repair their conveyance and it would be for the best. The couple was safe from him, but not from Leslie. Ignatio had seen the way she looked at Jamie Stuart and knew Leslie would not hesitate to take him. He would make a point to forbid her to touch either one of them. He returned to his bed, found Leslie already asleep and he stretched out next to her. As the sun began its daily ascent, the Count fell into a restless slumber.

  Carloff was unable to repair the carriage as the Count had hoped. A new wheel had to be obtained and this took Carloff the better part of the day to locate. He rode hard to the next largest town, returning shortly after sundown.

  Ignatio’s housekeeper had prepared a proper dinner for his guests and explained that the Master and his Lady had not risen yet.

  “Are they well?” Margaret Stuart inquired.

  “Oh yes, Ma’am,” she explained. “In the social season they frequently get their days and nights rearranged. You just make yourselves at home and don’t worry about them.”

  Margaret looked at her husband and shrugged. A short time later, as they finished their dinner, the Lord and Lady of the house joined them. Jamie Stuart rose as their hosts joined them.

  “Go
od evening,” Count Magonoff said in his Slavic accent, bowing slightly and giving them his most winning smile. Lady Magonoff on his arm smiled warmly. “I am sorry to report your carriage will not be repaired until possibly tomorrow.

  “Aye!” Jamie agreed. “Your driver Carloff had told us this earlier.”

  “You are most welcome to remain here until the carriage is in working order.” Leslie extended, her eyes traveled over Jamie.

  “Thank ye, milady,” Jamie said. “We appreciate your hospitality. Hopefully it will not be more than a day.”

  “Stay as long as you need to, of course,” Leslie assured them graciously.

  “Mrs. Stuart, you are welcome. Please,” Ignatio said, “do not allow our late night hours to alarm you. Our local social season sometimes has functions that continue until the early hours of the mornings. We were returning from one of these when we spotted your carriage.”

  “We surely would not want to dictate your lives, sir.” Margaret said courteously. “Jamie and I both have been to court ourselves and understand the late hours.”

  “To which court do you refer, Mrs. Stuart?” Leslie was immediately interested.

  “Me family has long been part of Parliament and on occasion has attended the Court of Saint James.” Jamie explained.

  “How interesting,” Leslie smiled sweetly and looked directly into Jamie’s eyes.

  Ignatio knew that look and that smile, and he knew where it would lead.

  “Lady Leslie,” Margaret drew her attention away from her husband. She knew that look too, but not to the extent, “I am sure that you have attended the Czar’s court.”

  “Of course!” Leslie said raising her chin a notch, her pride slightly wounded. It had been many, many years since she had attended court. “Many times, now Ignatio and I have a simple lifestyle,” she added.

  “As we will, when we return home to Scotland,” Jamie agreed. “Me father gifted us with a generous holding on Clan lands upon our marriage. I shall be happy to manage them,” Jamie smiled when he looked to his wife, “and be a father to many children.”

  Ignatio found himself jealous of Jamie Stuart. Remembering his now long-dead wife and son and what would have been–what for a short time he had thought he had found again with Leslie.

  “You are a blessed man,” the Count said, with only a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Please, you must excuse Lady Leslie and I for a short time this evening. Relax, enjoy a glass or so of brandy, Mr. Stuart, we must attend a function, then we will return.” Ignatio and Leslie left, not for a social engagement but for their nightly repast.

  Both Jamie and Margaret chose a book from the Count’s extensive library and settled into the parlor. “Jamie,” Margaret said around ten, “I am tired still, I think I’ll retire, please give my excuses to the Count and Lady Leslie when they return, if they do before you join me.”

  “Of course, Margaret.” Rising, Jamie escorted his wife up the long, grand staircase to their rooms. An hour later, he too was about to retire, when the Count and Lady returned.

  “I was just about to retire,” Jamie said. “I hope your evening was pleasant.”

  “It was,” the Count assured him evenly. Remembering too freshly the look on the thug’s face when he had dragged him from the young woman he was about to assault. She had run into the night, grateful someone had saved her. He and Leslie had drained him, leaving him in the alley dead. He wouldn’t bother anyone else again. Ignatio hated killing. Only by taking the life of a criminal or some other low scoundrel could he rationalize it.

  “Please excuse Margaret, she has retired already. In her condition she tires easily.” Jamie explained.

  “I am sure,” Leslie said in an understanding manner. “My love,” she turned to Ignatio, “I too am going up. I find I am tired also.”

  “Very well, Leslie, I shall not be long,” Ignatio said.

  “Good,” Leslie said with a sultry and knowing smile, as she looked over her shoulder and ascended the stairs.

  “Your lady looks forward to your company,” Jamie said with a knowing smile.

  Ignatio smiled himself, “Yes, milady demands my attentions. Now, if you will excuse me.”

  Jamie watched the Count mount the stairs. It occurred to Jamie that the Count seemed to be an unhappy man.

  Jamie downed the last of the fine brandy he had poured and followed the Count, but not too closely. Margaret was still awake when he entered their room, but barely. He kissed her mouth tenderly. In her last month of pregnancy, Jamie was reluctant to make love to her, though he sorely missed their passionate play. Margaret was a warm-blooded Highland lass and wasn’t hesitant about her nature. She slipped her pure white arms around her husband’s neck to return his kiss and to pull him closer for more. Her little tongue brushed his.

  “Ah, Maggie, my girl,” Jamie said, “I fear we must wait till after the wee one comes.”

  “No!” She pouted, “If we are easy, twill will do no harm.” Margaret hugged Jamie closer and he couldn’t resist. From the moment Jamie had seen Margaret he had loved her, arranged though their marriage had been. It had been the same for her. Their marriage had joined their Clans and their lands. The portions Jamie had spoken of to the Count sat squarely on both Clans’ lands.

  Jamie cradled Maggie, as only she allowed him to call her, close to his broad, muscular chest, his fiery kiss setting her blood on fire. Jamie’s gentle hands moved over her small body, only where she held his child was she large. At the heat of his touch the child kicked.

  “Shhh, quiet, wee one,” Jamie said and continued with his tender love play. Maggie giggled. He kissed her breasts, tasting the bit of milk that escaped those ripe vessels. He carefully caressed her nether lips covered in thick red hair, only slightly darker than the hair on her head, until she moaned in her pleasure. Before they knew of the baby, Jamie had taken his own comb one evening and “styled” her cunt hairs, they were so thick. His love play had left Margaret laughing so hard her sides had hurt.

  Margaret was careful not to make loud noises that might be heard by the Count or his Lady; as her husband gently caressed her cunt and clit until she was ready for his hardened shaft. Jamie mounted her slowly and deliberately, entering her with care and setting a rhythm that brought them both to a heightened climax, fulfilling them, but was gentle and sweet, cautious not to disturb their unborn child. Margaret had, on their wedding night, seen Jamie’s huge shaft after he had taken many long minutes in delicate foreplay and almost run from fright, but Jamie had eased her fears and taken her gently. Margaret had loved him at first sight, but his tenderness on their wedding night had sealed their love more securely than any vow could. Kissing each other, Maggie soon fell asleep in Jamie’s arms.

  Jamie lay still for a long while and gazed down at his slumbering wife he enjoyed her glorious beauty. He longed to be home in his own manor, for they had a fine home. In Jamie’s restless need to be home, he slowly slipped from their bed, dressed to go downstairs, and went out onto the garden terrace. It was late summer in the Carpathian Mountains and there was a chill in the air. Jamie breathed in the musky night air and the Scott in him sensed a presence behind him.

  “Lady Leslie!” he said with some amazement. “I should think your Count will miss you.”

  “My Count is sound asleep and snoring,” she said with some displeasure in her voice, then laughed. “I too needed some night air.” Leslie had worn a dressing gown made of ivory lace overlaid on pale rose satin material and wrapped around her slender form, tying in the front. When she walked, the matching gown beneath it was visible and Jamie knew the gown revealed far more than the dressing gown. She came to stand close to him. “It is cool out here for a summer’s night.”

  “Aye, that it is, I was going in myself. I will say goodnight to you.” Jamie turned to go, but found her delicate hand on his arm, stopping him.

  “Don’t go yet,” Leslie’s voice was low, her entrancing power strong. Jamie looked into her blue eyes and felt their h
ypnotic effect. Her will was powerful and he felt his will was no longer his own. Her hands were cold and now he held them both, or did she hold his?

  “I should go…” Jamie protested weakly. He felt her sensual body pressed against his. She smelled of spring flowers and musk. A part of his mind screamed at him to leave but he couldn’t. He could hear Maggie’s voice call to him as if from a great distance but her voice grew fainter. Now he could not hear her words only a lonely, sad cry. “Please!” he said in a whisper just before her red lips covered his. Those were the sweetest lips he had ever tasted. Jamie pulled her possessively to himself, molding her form to his. Her tongue brushed his and he stroked hers gently, probing her sweet mouth. He began to kiss her neck, down her throat toward her breasts where that wonderful scent seemed to be hiding between the soft globes of velvety flesh.

  Leslie knew she had him. He was all hers. Perhaps she would not take him all at once tonight and kill him. He was gentle, like the Count used to be. Oh, how long it had been since she had love made to her by a gentle lover. His hands were on her breasts, and she felt alive again. She could smell his blood coursing through his veins. She licked his neck, and felt his pulse grow rapid.

  “Oh, Jamie, I knew when I saw you that I wanted you!” Leslie told him. “I was hungry for you. I didn’t think I would ever get you alone.” She let her hands rove over his body, stopping to fondle his aroused cock. It strained to escape his pants and she realized it was as large as Ignatio’s. Maybe she would give him her gift and escape from Ignatio with this man. Leslie could care less about his wife and unborn child.

  Jamie fought himself. He had never been unfaithful to his Maggie. No woman had ever been able to tempt him away from her. He loved her and had since the moment he had seen her. He didn’t love this woman. He really didn’t even want her; something was compelling him. What he didn’t know, was that he had no control over himself, he had to have her. She had loosened the fastening on his breeches. Oh! Her cold hands were on his hot cock, now in her hot mouth! Jamie had never experienced that before, his head swam, and the light–had grown dark.