Kira saw the shadows about her retreat as the wicks lifted their flame high, bathing her in an amber glow, a soft warmth touching her chill flesh while the smell of petrol became a hint to her nose.
‘Now we shall educate you as to the history of our sublime ruler,’ said the woman with stern tones, making herself heard by all the occupants. Kira’s eyes were locked to the candle above her, dwelling overhead like a cruel comet, ready to afflict her.
‘Her majesty came with the Romans to this place. The Roman Empire was a place where vampire-kind held many high positions of respect and authority, controlling mortal lives much more openly in that decadent time,’
said the trainer, and Kira looked aghast as she strode past bearing a leather strap, the dark hide decorated with swirling patterns of stitching.
‘Her majesty is a dedicated follower of the arts of hedonism and sensual fulfilment. When the politics and bickering of the empire started to become too great, she migrated to the outer colonies with her house.’ There was a brutal slap of leather to skin and the woman beside Kira yowled into her gag. Kira accidentally turned her head slightly to see, and when a trickle of liquefied darkness slipped the edge and started running down the candle she jerked her head upright and snorted as best 117
she could to try and dry it before it reached her. The weaving drool slowed and stopped, darkening as it hardened back to a solid state. But it was only a matter of time before she was unable to stop the wax.
‘It was a shrewd move, because many great vampire houses were destroyed or crippled in the fall of Rome, and the subsequent purging led by Christian vampire hunters in the aftermath.’
Kira gave a snort of fright as she saw the first drips falling from the overhead candle. Strangely insubstantial impacts fell onto her abdomen, the moment of indecision being replaced by a hot stab of sensation into her skin.
Releasing a croak of distress, Kira started to wriggle and writhe, trying to keep her head still while seeking to shift her belly out from under the volcanic drizzle. But no matter which way she shifted she could not escape, and only offered more untouched skin to the steady drip of the candle. Tears started to flow once more as she shook and growled, trying to endure the mayhem, the candle continuing without pause to punish her.
‘Part of the original founding of the city, her majesty was involved in all matters pertaining to it. Her links to every aspect of its enterprises and wealth made sure that no matter what mortal agency currently claimed ownership, she was the true ruler of the domain,’
continued their tormentor, and Kira jolted to attention as the strap landed on her thigh, filling it with prickly feeling. The spry jump of response made splashes fall onto her feet and cheek, further elevating her ordeal.
Fighting to keep still as the rhythmic pound of hot drops fell onto her belly, she clawed her toes to the candles, scratching at the wax.
‘As the British Empire grew, her power continued to 118
expand. The other lands of the vampire houses had suffered great setbacks such as the Inquisition, the French Revolution, and the civil war in the Americas. These were times when the eradication of vampire-kind rose to unprecedented levels,’ she went on, and applied her strap to the male, his cry suddenly repeating as his movement brought an additional second wave of castigation.
Kira screwed her eyes shut, concentrating, filling her mind’s eye with warm fantasies, trying to picture herself at the mercy of Cassandra, of being abused by her like this. It was easier to endure when she dedicated herself to finding pleasure, in believing that the sharp sensation of the wax was not a blight, but a delight.
‘But with such strife abroad, other great houses wanted to take shares of the city, to relocate here and partake of the safety and security afforded by it. Lacking the martial strength to defeat a take over, her majesty agreed to the dividing of the city, with her and the other heads of the vampire houses forming a council that presided over all matters.’
Kira readied to feel its hot caress, giving small flicks of response to the wax that continued to fall on her, save that now she was finding relish in her abuse, in the searing touch of each wandering rivulet that stained her.
‘Recently, however, the great houses have been subjected to attack by an as yet unknown foe. We have remained untouched, but most of the other houses have already fallen, their survivors in hiding amongst the vampire citizenry of the city,’ announced the woman, and Kira croaked as the strap swung down and caught her inner thigh, punishing this most tender of regions.
The leg jolted automatically, shaking the candle attached to its extremity, flinging a cascade of wax across her 119
shin to eclipse her ability to enjoy the deed. With a sob, she shook and rode through the storm of her harrowing, letting it drift away until she could once more start to delight in the waxen rain.
‘Taking advantage of this event, the queen consolidated her power, and with the assistance of several allies has retaken the city and fortified her hold on it to an extent where it cannot be so easily lost again.’ The male was given a taste of the strap, the heels of the woman sounding as she paced back and forth, adding new torment to her slaves as she went.
‘The queen controls every major institution of the land.
She has total sway over constabulary and the judicial system, her power ranging from the most respected members of parliament and House of Lords, down to reigns over organised crime.
‘None know what we are, and few even know who she is, but through various facades the queen is undisputed sovereign over the city,’ stated the trainer, and the woman released her sorrow as she was abused again.
‘At present a time of prophecy is upon us, an age where the forces of darkness are supposed to ascend to a new epoch of dominance,’ she continued, and Kira tensed in anticipation. It was not a wasted precaution, and again, the strap fell between her legs to afflict the other inner thigh. ‘Every quarter of power is bolstering their strength, readying for what might occur, each readying to grab as much power as possible if the opportunity comes.
‘The queen’s palace is a subterranean fortress, developed and constructed secretly from a main nuclear bunker beneath the city, and which incorporates several other long-forsaken underground structures,’ revealed the woman, and made the male squeal with another 120
heartless attack.
‘Here we are safe, here we may live out undead lives to the full without any of the concerns and dangers that present themselves to ordinary vampire citizens of the surface world,’ she stated, and abused the woman once more before walking towards Kira.
‘That is all for this lesson. I shall leave you now to dwell on my words and suffer for her majesty’s delectation.’ She treated Kira to a stroke across her belly, one that made her jump and send wax across her feet and chin.
With no other word she turned and departed, leaving them to their long and trying ordeal. The door slammed shut, hiding their cries, leaving them all grizzling in apathy beneath their hovering sources of torment.
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Chapter Nine
Releasing the throttle, Cassandra let the bike drift to a slow crawl, and with the soft squeak of the brakes she came to halt. Dropping her booted foot to the kerb, she looked about her surroundings.
The city streets were so much different in the harsh glare of the day, the populace an entirely different herd than the one they preyed upon through the hours of darkness.
On the outside she appeared no different to hundreds of motorcycle messengers speeding to and fro – leather trousers, heavy boots, a closed biker’s jacket, heavy gloves and a domed crash helmet with mirrored visor lowered into place.
But beneath she was sheathed within the tight opaque folds of a latex catsuit, the gloves stretching over her fingers, the high collar lifted up around her throat, coating her form, a dense shell to protect from even the slightest touch of the hated sun.
Beneath the helmet, sun block was smeared copiously across her skin and then co
ncealed with ordinary cosmetic shades. Mirrored sunglasses crossed her eyes, and even through these two protecting layers the world was impossibly bright.
It was a different world to the safe presence of the night. The people were grim, preoccupied, strutting about possessed with their own bloated sense of self-importance. It was as though their suits were decrees 122
that made them superior to all others, they marched with glum faces, locked without expression, steadfastly ignoring the world around them.
Those without need of employment conducted their shopping excursion, biding their time and extracting their tenuous joy with the distractions before returning home to marital servility.
The only similarity to her world of night were the tourists, the bright-eyed visitors to this foreign land.
Laden with cameras and guides, their fingers pointed out the remarkable or amusing, their behaviour indifferent to those about them, as though their citizenship of a distant land made them exempt from the modes of conduct of this city.
All of them were ignorant of the predator in their midst, and of the other beast that walked calmly towards an unmarked door beside a stationary shop.
The female lupine had changed much since last Cassandra had observed her actions. She was hunched, the weight of her burden pushing down on her, the quest to find her lost brother the only thing motivating her now. The city was a cruel lover to those not born to it, one who welcomed all in with its bright lights and promise of comfort, but who exacted a terrible toll on those who listened to its siren song.
The werewolf had been here too long, separated from her natural environment of the wilds, and it was taking its toll on her. She walked cautiously, with paranoia, suspicious of those about her, the hate of the mortals infectious to one such as she. The claustrophobic hold of the city had piqued her unease, even though she had accustomed to it.
Her attire was dishevelled and haphazard, her 123
appearance the same – untended, forsaken as all effort was leeched from her.
Fumbling for a key, the woman opened the door and shuffled in, closing it and throwing the locks. Cassandra could almost hear the sigh of despairing relief as she restored her barricades to distance herself from the world without.
The lupine had struck a small haven to the north, killing the three vampires within as they slept before lounging in the park for the rest of the day, basking in the sun.
Cassandra had watched her through binoculars as the woman wept for short periods, letting lose her pent up emotion, feeling isolated and alone, distanced from everything she knew. The time amidst the preened greenery had only helped to anger her more rather than soothe her.
The lupine was operating from this rented slum, grabbing the change in the pockets of her prey when she remembered to do so in order that she might feed the greed of its owner.
With a smile, Cassandra turned around and peeled into the traffic, weaving deftly through its choked ranks and heading back to the palace to report her findings. It would be a good excuse to get a private audience with the queen, and hopefully to engage in a little sensual recreation between them.
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Chapter Ten
Kira had been drifting in and out of a shade of sleep for what seemed like hours. Unable to truly enter slumber, the hot spikes of dripping wax conspired to keep her awake. She was dizzy and felt a little nauseous from the deprivation, her senses being affected, her thoughts running in circles and to odd places.
Her awareness of her surroundings came and went, sometimes being distinct, sometimes being so faint that she almost believed herself elsewhere.
How long had she been here now? The long periods of bondage were confusing her track of time. It might have been days, or even weeks, for how did she know how much sleep she actually required in her new life?
The hunger in her heart was growing again, nibbling at her a little to start with, promising to gather its full rabid force should she not sate it soon.
Her chest was now coated in a thick layer of wax, the barrier shielding her from most of the drips, but some still slid down her flanks, or when they splattered onto the accumulated layers they spat spots onto more distant regions. Her thighs and the underside of her breasts were flecked with tiny dark pearls from such landings.
Her chin and cheeks were streaked with black icicles, as were her feet, the wax forming into a spreading pool about her ankles the more was poured down them.
With a click and several compliant whines, the door slid back and their trainer entered at a calm strut, 125
completely equable to the sobs and groans of the long punished slaves.
‘It is time for you to be moved onto other lessons, slaves,’ she reported, and proceeded immediately to Kira.
Extinguishing the candles, she removed them from her body but did not release her from the chair. Reaching beneath, she produced a wicked curved knife, the ornate hilt and guard moulded into skeletal designs.
Kira tensed as the lethal tool hovered over her chest and then slowly descended with threatening intent. In fear of being cut she remained frozen to attention, the edge picking at the scabs of wax, scraping them way as the razor edge brushed her skin but did no harm. With sloth, the woman gradually shaved away all the warm crust from her body, the worst parts being her flanks.
Her skin was ticklish to the touch, making it harder to stay still and accept the stripping.
When her feet were attended she was squeaking with exertion, fighting to keep still as her toes and sensitive soles were brushed by the weapon, the ordeal easing slightly as the woman turned to her shins and calves.
Finally, after some tense moments her breasts were lightly scraped free of their token markings. The blade circled about her features, delicately removing the lines, the woman’s face alive with enthusiasm at Kira’s calamity.
The last of the wax was removed and some vigorous brushing across her body threw off the final lingering dregs, the passage of latex fingers across Kira’s flesh making her shiver with an iniquitous glee. The woman beamed her amusement and continued awhile longer, pointlessly rubbing Kira’s skin to watch the slave squirm and writhe, her body flexing and straining beneath her 126
touch.
Her shackles were unlocked, and Kira lifted herself with stiff movements, her arms having grown used to the position and now unresponsive to anything different.
The leash was applied again, and with a soft pull she was steered off the table. Finally being freed of captivity, a few flakes drifted from her skin with her first uneasy strides, her legs like wet paper beneath her.
Escorted out, Kira was taken to her last destination to receive the final part of her tuition, and perhaps it was the most valuable and pertinent of lessons. It didn’t matter that much about the history, because everything that existed here was only relevant to immediate gratification for all parties, thus the past had no meaning. Similarly, the facts of her vampire anatomy and the threats and means of its destruction were irrelevant, because for all intents and purposes this palace was impregnable. Filled with ancient vampires and ghouls, surely no force either natural or supernatural could penetrate such a bastion.
The laws and rules were all that mattered, and these were the keys through which she would gain her fulfilment. As a slave of quality and obedience she would strive to impress and soothe the angst of the seneschal.
Her obsession with the queen was fading. It was still arousing to be under her control, to be a subject in the realm of such an ancient goddess, but she was also an influential vampire power. With politics and scheming occurring all about her, any involvement with the queen could be extremely dangerous. After all, why would someone of the queen’s longevity even care for the fate of someone as young as she? Kira could be a pawn in some machiavellian intrigue, squandered perhaps on nothing of relevance, just because it was the queen’s wish 127
to do so. The queen now intimidated Kira, and instead, her desire was firmly located on the cruel and aloof seneschal
.
Cassandra was the mistress of her dreams, the sadistic bitch that would take her and mould her like clay into any configuration she required, Kira’s will being a superfluous commodity to this greater design. The woman would use and abuse her without pity or second thought.
The prospect of being dominated by someone who cared for her had been pleasing at first because she believed herself scared of any intense play, afraid of what she could and could not stand. But now she had been dragged through trials that previously she would have gone pale with fright at the thought of even seeing.
Someone who loved or was fond of her could not orchestrate such deeds; she needed someone of far darker temperament and motivation, and Cassandra was ideal.
A new door accepted her identity and she was ushered in to serve again as a pain slave, to suffer solely for the whim of the queen.
The room was like a tomb, the inside bare save for a grave-like indentation in the middle of the floor. Beside it was a long bag of latex, like a sleeping bag.
The door whinnied shut and set its locks in place as the trainer wandered over and lifted the base of the sack, revealing an opening at the feet and the insides of the sheath.
‘Get in, slave,’ she ordered.
Kira looked at it with dismay, but dared not resist, so she moved forward and lowered onto all fours, her leash being removed as she started to slither head first into the close-fitting slot, utilising the meagre slack to get her 128
body fully within. Her head pressed to the end, signalling the limits of the sack. No holes for any of her senses were to be found.
‘Place your arms in the internal sleeves,’ came the woman’s next command, the words barely able to seep in through the dense layers of latex resting atop her.
Shuffling within the stifling interior, Kira found two slots for her limbs, and obeying, she moved them down into the depths and lay back, her entire body now swathed in the deep folds.
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