LostwithLeo

by Shelley Munro

  Leo grabbed for his memory capsule. Playing at the beach. The hot sun shining on his hair and skin. The surf crashing to shore. Eating ice creams to cool down on a summer’s day. The sexy dream he’d experienced with the mousy Betrys as his lover.

  The suction at his neck annihilated the flimsy walls created by his memories. God, they were feeding. They were feeding on his neck like vampires. One hard suck, then they gave way for the next minion.

  Finally, finally the line ended and he was left alone in the white room. He swallowed, his pulse racing because he knew Iseult would return.

  His mind drifted. He tried to revisit his memories, but all he could think of was Iseult. Instead of happy memories, fear stalked his mind. He trembled, beads of nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead.

  Then he heard the click, click, click of Iseult’s shoes coming closer and closer.

  The footsteps grew louder, approached the bed.

  “Open your eyes, pretty Leo.” Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but Leo wasn’t fooled. If he disobeyed, he’d suffer more pain than he could imagine.

  Leo followed instructions, but instead of meeting her gaze, he stared at the white over her shoulder. Endless white. It was like sinking into infinity. God, give him color, even if it was his own blood.

  She huffed, but laced the sound with humor. He amused her—at the moment.

  “Silly, pretty boy. Admire spirit. Enjoy yours.” She shook her head. “I always get my way.”

  She unbuttoned her white leather jacket to reveal a tiny white camisole thing below. His gaze returned to the whiteness while his insides quivered in apprehension. While the males had hairy black skin, Iseult’s was smooth and creamy white. He heard her peel from the matching trousers with ease. Leo had never known anyone who did that. Leather was a prick of a fabric to wear and get out of later. She made the process appear elegant and sensual and somehow, she managed to keep on her shoes.

  Leo continued to stare into the white, attempted to distract himself because now she intended to touch him intimately. She’d take his cock into her mouth and suck hard. It would feel good at first but soon her pointy black tongue would lick one time too many. He’d become ultra-sensitive and crazed with the pain. Enough to put a man off sex. It had put him off, and apart from taking the mousy Betrys in his dream, he hadn’t had a normal woman since his first meeting with Iseult. Three long months, and once he left this room, he wouldn’t want another woman for a long stretch.

  He caught a flash of color, of emerald green and cobalt blue. Intrigued, his gaze tracked the brilliance.

  Distraction.

  Holy fuck.

  The color came from Iseult. Her body. Instead of creamy skin, her torso was vibrant. Bemused, he stared until her sultry chuckle jerked him from his stupor, reminded him he was restrained and at the mercy of an alien spider woman.

  Leo shifted his weight, tried to relieve the tenseness of his limbs, the ache of his backside pressing against the unforgiving surface of the bed. God, his dick was so hard. Pre-cum beaded his slit. Had to be something she’d injected into him with her bite. Didn’t get this much of a hard-on any other time…

  “I pretty, Leo?” Her arched brows indicated a question.

  “Yes,” he croaked, even though peculiar and fuck-ass weird fitted the situation better.

  “You please me, pretty. A pity…” She gave a delicate shrug of her toned shoulders and crawled onto the bottom of the bed. Her smooth fingers ran across his foot, her touch swirling his anxiety higher. His breath caught as her perfume—musky like sandalwood—filled his air space.

  She lowered her mouth and traced her pointed tongue over his big toe, bit with sharp teeth. Licked away the blood.

  No. No. No!

  Leo felt his pulse rate jump and fought his urge to shroud his sight. Her fingers followed along one calf, she bit there too. With each nip, it were as if an army of fire ants marched over his flesh. His heart pumped faster and faster. Tears formed and rolled down his cheeks. At least she’d put that damn flogger away somewhere, hadn’t brought it to her mating bed.

  She took a bite out of his inner thigh and glanced up to study his cock. His breath caught. Another tear trickled onto his neck. She saw it, smiled and reached for it with her finger, tsking at his flinch.

  Her smile widened to reveal her pointed teeth, the stark whiteness of them against her black tongue. She licked the droplet off her fingertip, and studied him, a wrinkle of thought on her pale brow.

  “What is the magical ingredient? I’ve never felt so well.” She seemed to lose interest in his tears and lowered her head to delicately trace one nipple with her tongue. ’Round and ’round, then a brief foray across the hard disc. She rubbed along his leg, leaving a trail of slimy arousal. Every part of his leg where it spread started to ache in concert with the areas she’d bitten, yet still his cock saluted with interest.

  She bit into his pectoral muscle without warning, and he grunted, jerked against his ties.

  Then she turned, presenting her back. Dread stalked him then because she was unpredictable. She straddled his waist and all he could see was the brilliant patchwork her upper torso had become. Emerald. Cobalt. Hints of scarlet.

  Her back bowed and he felt her hot mouth surround the head of his dick. The initial pleasure gave way to the fiery swarm. He grunted, fought the urge to seek refuge in his mind. She’d see. She’d be watching him in her peripheral vision.

  Suddenly, Iseult shrieked. The high-pitched cry lifted the hairs at the back of his neck, made him aware of the clamminess of his skin. She froze then shrieked again without warning, the sound vibrating along his cock. The bright colors peeled away like a zipper to reveal a hairy black body.

  Her third shriek held a victorious tone. She started to suck on his cock, no longer toying with him. Extra arms and legs unfolded and gripped him. Leo stared, too horrified to look away now. Two arms cradled a smooth white ball. Iseult hissed around his cock, licked and sucked, and the fiery pain seemed to subside.

  Leo felt the beginnings of a climax and didn’t try to hold back. The sooner he came the sooner this nightmare would end. The suction increased and a black finger pressed on his perineum. Another finger slid up to his rear entrance, pressed and pushed inside. Leo thrashed beneath Iseult, his dick withering a fraction in her mouth. She never hesitated, and somehow, the intrusion didn’t hurt as much as he feared. To his great relief, some kind of lubricant eased the way. He hated to think…groped for his stash of happy memories. Started during his fifth birthday party. The bouncy castle. The pony rides. The smiling, creepy—

  Fuck.

  Iseult touched a spot that sent electricity jolting across each and every nerve ending. He cried out, pain and panic making him thrash, and she shrieked in triumph. Her probing finger stroked back and forth over the sensitive area. His balls tightened and fiery pleasure forged a path up his cock. Iseult gave another shriek, her teeth sinking into the head of his cock even as her finger continued to stroke and stroke and stroke.

  His heart thumped hard. A roaring sensation crashed through his head. His muscles twitched at the stimulation while his mind screamed. Too much. Too much. The pleasure rose and swelled until he wondered if the shell of his body could contain the rush of sexual hunger.

  The instant he thought he might hurtle into climax, Iseult bit his dick and knocked the wave lower, only to massage his sweet spot and send him soaring again.

  Leo heard screaming, and took long, long moments to realize it was him. The finger inside him stroked seductively, the sharp bite of teeth failed to halt the escalating pleasure. He shattered, saw stars hovering in the fringes of the darkness that spread over him like a tsunami. He kept coming and coming, the contractions taking long moments to tail away.

  “Eyes open, pretty,” Iseult crooned.

  Sluggish, heart still trying to claw up his throat, he obeyed, focused on the far wall, and lost himself in the white.

  She licked his limp cock, and to his shame a
nd alarm, his dick started to fill again.

  “Good boy,” she whispered, and the horror began all over again.

  Somewhere during the third session, he retreated to the birthday party and refused to leave. His cock hurt, every muscle—every muscle—throbbed in a rhythmic ache. He thought he climaxed again, then two of her black hands pinched his midriff. The pain sent the black swirling inside his mind. Horrid pain. Indescribable pain. So much pain. Something snapped and he tumbled headfirst into the black hole.

  Falling, falling, falling.

  He wondered when he might stop, hit the bottom, but he kept going, vaguely felt the pain increase, if that were possible. Was this death? Wasn’t so bad.

  Leo reached for the darkness, embraced its loving arms and went limp.

  Chapter Four

  Betrys couldn’t escape the screams. Earsplitting shrieks. Hair-raising shrieks. Horrifying shrieks. Clapping her hands over her ears did nothing to mute Leo’s anguished cries. Silent tears streamed down her face. Goddess Juna, what was Iseult doing to him? How long did she intend to prolong the man’s agony?

  Finally, finally the whimpers ceased. A chill prickled her skin, and Betrys wrapped her arms around her chest in an effort to get warm. She rocked back and forward, back and forward, back and forward, waiting for the summons that would come soon.

  Leo was dead.

  She’d lured yet another man to his death—not just any man, but one she’d met and interacted with on the dreamscape—and the weight of the knowledge made her want to curl into a ball and hide. While she didn’t do the actual killing, she was complicit in Leo’s death. It was she who trolled the marketplace and selected suitable specimens, she who enticed and offered the men great riches, she who acted the pimp.

  Goddess, she didn’t want to do this again, loathed the idea of repeating the process. But she would because of her son.

  She’d do anything to keep Ricci safe.

  The light of her life, and her one sole reminder of the man she’d loved and lost during the Colossium wars. Already, her young son showed signs of his father—the beautiful clear-blue eyes that told of power, the knowledge of the generations in his young face and a strength of character most people garnered with age. He would lead once he was older, if she could keep him alive.

  She would keep Ricci safe and somehow extricate them both from this mess.

  At least Iseult would keep her word. She wouldn’t taste Ricci until he reached the legal age on Dalcon. She had a while to earn the currency to pay off her debt to Iseult. A few cycles to recruit for Iseult—to bring her compatible males from which to feed.

  The clank of a bell summoned her, and she jerked upright. She staggered, forced her will on her knees, and headed for the mating room. The deed was done, and now her task was the cleanup and the disposal…

  She used the sleeve of her robe to wipe her face and sucked in fortifying drafts of air. Later she would mourn her dream lover, but now she had duties to perform.

  Betrys hurried along the long passage. She came to a stunned halt in the doorway.

  The minions were mounting someone, something. Lining up to mount her, and Iseult…

  Betrys blinked and focused again. No, she wasn’t mistaken. That was Iseult and she’d shed her skin, transformed into a creature resembling her minions. Much larger, but her normal face remained, pale and seductive, while her torso and legs were all black, hairy spider with bands of bright colors to differentiate her from the males.

  Swallowing her horror, Betrys hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Leo lay on the mating bed, his form still and bloody.

  Dead.

  A pang of deep anguish swelled inside her, pressed against her chest and tightened her throat until she thought she might suffocate with the force of the weight. Leo had fought with his available tools—attitude and belligerence. Once he’d signed the contract, there was one way forward since Iseult loathed cheating or attempts to renege on contracts. The second man Betrys had signed up had attempted to leave Dalcon without fulfilling the contract and Iseult had sent her three best men to track him. They’d caught him, Iseult had given him a chance to return, and on his refusal, her men had killed him without hesitation.

  Iseult let out a screech, and the last of her soldiers went flying. He picked himself up and scuttled with a lopsided gait in Betrys’s direction. She stood aside and watched in bemusement as the rest of Iseult’s men exited the room with the same unsteady gait.

  Iseult meandered over to Betrys, her beautiful face wreathed in a bright, happy smile. Such a contrast to her repulsive body. Eyes forward. Betrys forced her horror to the back of her mind and pasted on what she hoped was an impassive expression.

  “I am pleased with the pretty boy.” She smiled at the still form on the bed, and not a shred of guilt or regret showed on her features, despite the cavalier way she’d tortured and killed an innocent man. “Never have I received enough man essence to go into frenzy. You have done well. Two thousand shillars bonus. We will celebrate tonight after I recover. Clean up this mess, and start looking for my next meal. If you find a similar male—one who pleases me as much, I will grant you a bonus. Ten thousand shillars.”

  Betrys felt her mouth drop open, saw the trace of amusement on her boss’s face, and pressed her lips together. “It will be done.”

  “Consult Amos about the celebration feast. He will know what to do.”

  Betrys watched Iseult stumble away. The female Spiderus appeared drunk, and her smile… Betrys shivered. That contented smile shunted fear through her, but she attempted to keep her feelings from leaking free since Iseult had peripheral vision.

  A low series of squeaks came from the direction in which Iseult had disappeared. Was that singing? Creepy.

  Betrys forced herself to edge farther into the web, one foot after the other. Iseult always referred to the web as the mating room, and she’d wondered why since death occurred in this chilling chamber of white. Now she understood. Iseult needed more…more man essence, then it became a mating room.

  She stopped by a concealed cupboard and pushed a button. A door slid open to reveal a trolley, which she wheeled over to the bed. She scrubbed a hand over her face, steeling herself, pushing past her grief and regrets. Despite the crushing weight on her chest and her gut full of knots, she forced herself to touch Leo’s naked form. He lay facedown on the bed, his corpse still and bloody and warm, and she jerked her fingers away with a harsh sob.

  Self-loathing swept her, gathering momentum like an unstoppable meteor storm, until she trembled from head to foot. Another death to add to her total. Another death to weigh on her conscience and disturb her nights. Another death.

  This one—Leo—was a hundredfold worse than usual.

  The futility of escape ate at her as she stared at the spot of blood on her hand. She wiped the smear on her robe, and straightened her shoulders, lifted her quaking chin, anger rushing into her in a torrent. This wasn’t right. She knew it and Iseult must know it too. Goddess, how many years would she spend as the woman’s slave? What if she never got away? Ricci could die in the same manner as Leo, then the entrapment, the deaths and the sale of her soul would be for nothing.

  Aware Iseult would call for her soon, she lined up the trolley with the bed and steeled herself as she grasped Leo’s shoulder to roll him. He was muscular and solid and she grunted with exertion. A shocked croak scratched up and out of her throat at her first real sight of his ravaged body. His injuries were worse than normal. His cock was red and bloody and still erect while his torso bore numerous bites. The worst wound was to his stomach, to the right of his bellybutton, where Iseult had left a gaping hole. Between the flesh and blood, she glimpsed a hint of white. Bone? Organs? Or something else?

  Horror rolled back and forth from her mind to her stomach, gathering momentum until the soup she’d managed to eat earlier burst up her throat and onto the floor. Her chest rose and fell in rapid sobs before she struggled to regain control. She averted her
gaze from the wound, hauling and shoving at his inert corpse until he lay on the trolley. Exhausted, she massaged the small of her back and flinched on seeing his face. Tears welled, hot and angry, and she brushed them away. Unable to look at him again without another bout of bawling, she hurried over to the storage cupboard to retrieve a sheet to shroud him from sight.

  Her white robe bore a dozen splotches of blood, and the vivid scarlet of it, the coppery scent of Leo’s life force had her clapping her hand over her mouth.

  Not again.

  She swallowed. Once, twice, trying to tamp it down. Goddess Juna. She clenched her jaw and heaped silent curses on Iseult, but couldn’t stop the rush of nausea. She turned away and vomited on the floor until her stomach muscles protested. Her breath came in hoarse pants, and her mouth tasted as if a Dalcon black bum-bug had crawled in there to die. She swiped the back of her hand over her mouth and straightened. A weak groan spilled past her lips.

  Something else to clean up before Iseult summoned her. At the thought, she hurried to the intercom and buzzed Iseult’s personal chef.

  “Iseult requires a celebration feast.”

  “When?” Amos the chef asked.

  Betrys rolled her eyes and prepared for a diatribe. “Later this evening, once Iseult has recovered from her mating.”

  “How the frack am I meant to cater for a feast without supplies or advance notice?”

  “Iseult is the boss.” She jerked her frame upright in a fighting stance. “I need to clean the web and deliver…something. Send a list of what you require to my genic-tab. I will return to the mansion as soon as possible and aid you with preparations.”

  “Don’t make your promise an empty one.” Amos slapped off the intercom, making it shrill in Betrys’s ear.

  “That went better than I expected.” She glanced back at her trolley and her vision blurred.