Stigmata

by L M Adams

  My heels almost sound hallow on the floors; my steps filled with unholy purpose. I am Lilith reborn, one of the fallen – the ones who dared to tell Creation fuck you. We fell for the love of man and how have they have repaid us for our sacrifice? Azazael told me, he warned me… he told me they would never make a monster their queen.

  I step into the open area of the second floor. The space is wide open except for the specially designed furniture used for torture. A St. Andrews Cross, bondage benches, towers, polls, leather covered tables with shackles; all lined up neatly on the edges of the room. An entire wall with racks of crops, paddles, whips, floggers, spread bars, hoods, blindfolds, harnesses, dildos – everything a succubus could wish for sits on the left side of the room with a small bar.

  A crow female tends the bar, her hair long at the top and shaved on one side, blonde with black roots, piercings in her lip and eyebrow. Her lips a pretty red as she chews on a toothpick. I have no idea what her name is, but still I give her a nod in greeting, she bows hers exposing her neck in a submissive pose… nothing in these unhallowed walls is off limits to me. I could go over there and drink her until her heart stopped and they’d just replace her with another bartender and the world would keep spinning and none would ever say a word about it.

  I live above the law in the world of monsters.

  To the right is one massive orgy seating area. The black sofa could easily double as a king-sized bed. It has actual black satin sheets on it. I’m finding vampires to be extremely meticulous about cleanliness. I doubt it’s about them trying to be close to god. Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised Jack is borderline obsessive-compulsive with having things a certain way… it seems to be a race-trait; funny I didn’t get that characteristic.

  Demetri, the vampire I hate to love, lounges across one end of the large sofa, his back propped up on a mound of pillows. There’s a slave girl on the floor beside him, down on her knees, long dark hair swept to the side, vein at the ready, pretty porcelain skin. She probably hasn’t seen the sun in years. She’s naked, at least from the waist up. I can’t see the bottom half of her. Heavy round breasts with peaked dark nipples, like small blood chocolate morsels ready to be bitten.

  I lick my lips.

  Dem shifts bringing my attention back to him. I have to admit he, by far, steals the show. Demetri lives to look like a vampire – painfully thin, always wearing his shirt undone to show off his rib cage pressed against almost translucent skin. Millions of bracelets, black painted nails. His hair is long and full of body, he must have a new shampoo, usually its stringy. Blonde highlights over black roots, the dye job is so bad I know he paid a lot of money for it.

  He gets to his feet, clapping and rushes over to me. “My Dark Queen,” he gives me warm air kisses, not actually touching me.

  Dem knows not to touch me or Jack without explicit permission or Lucien will tie him into a pretzel. He plays a dangerous game to be in my company – he must think the risk is worth the reward.

  “I was told you might be by tonight; it has been too long since we caught up, Vee-Vee.” He smiles, fawning over me like a favorite girlfriend.

  “You’re full of shit.”

  He smiles, a hint of fang flashing. “I like being filled with a lot of things.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” I roll my eyes, yet smiling, as I make my way over to the seating area. “Who told you to be at the standby?”

  “Our dark king, he had a feeling you’d need a diversion this evening. I’ve brought some good stock, human and crow.”

  “Jack actually called you?” I raise an eyebrow at that.

  “Of course not, he’s still not speaking to me. Némion called me and gave me a message.” He pokes out his bottom lip like a petulant toddler – vampires really shouldn’t make that sort of face. “Really Jaevia, how long is he going to hold on to that little indiscretion?”

  “You sucked his cock… against his will… for hours.”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t the only one, and Némion is the one that told me to do it. Yet he forgives her but not me?”

  I sigh, “She is a crow that was working under orders, you enjoyed torturing him because of the novelty – he doesn’t like being reminded how the purebloods treated him.”

  Dem, as gracious as ever, holds out a hand for me to help steady my descent onto the sofa. “May I?” He bows his head.

  “You are a well-trained rat, aren’t you?”

  “Only for you, my Dark Queen.”

  I take the offered hand and settle on one side of the orgy-bed-sofa.

  He’s quick to remove his hand, not touching me more than what he had express permission for – see, well trained rat.

  “Jack will forgive you if he wants, when he wants. I’m not going to get in the middle of it.”

  “Of course, tonight is about you anyway.” He smiles slyly and settles beside me, stretching out his long leather clad legs. He’s wearing a puffy black shirt tucked into the skin-tight leather pants, the boots have a cute little kitten heel on them too. What takes the cake, however, is the jeweled codpiece, who the fuck wears codpieces anymore? His style of dress is 1600s English aristocrat gone drag show fabulous… as I said, the man is entertaining.

  “Get us drinks, pet.” He murmurs to the slave kneeling on the other side of the sofa.

  She stands finally, and I see that she is a he, at least the large cock she has is he. She’s been gilded in a pretty silver cock cage, hanging heavy between her thighs. The cock and sack are the only parts of her that is male. No Adam’s apple I can tell, her breasts full and round, small, dark, puckered nipples.

  “I don’t remember her.” I whisper curiously as I watch her make her way over to the bar.

  “Well I can’t let you see all of my goods all at once. I would lose my enchantment.”

  I scoff, smiling. “She’s human?”

  He nods, “Red meat only, it gives her a musky flavor. I like to pair her with a deeper bloodwine with male undertones, the warring touches of femininity in her makes the flavor interesting.”

  Dem is somewhat of a connoisseur of bloodwine and human blood.

  “Is the transition voluntary?”

  “Yes, yes Jaevia, I know how you are – all prim and proper. I pay for her surgeries for ten years of service. The contract is above board. The tits alone cost me a fortune.”

  I huff, “Wanting my victims willing makes me prim and proper?”

  “Caring does, I thought you were going to do less of… that.” He says sounding infinitely bothered.

  “I am.” I settle back into the sofa as ‘pet’ returns from the side bar with two glasses of bloodwine.

  Long ago I’d turn up my nose at it, but that was long ago.

  The liquid is darker than actual blood, the edges are the only bit that’s actually red and shimmering with blood magic. Bloodwine needs magic to be made. Mixing blood and wine together without binding the two, making the two become something more – is just gross.

  “Drink first, fun later?” I ask raising an eyebrow.

  “Why choose just one?” His eyes slide to something behind me. “Is he participating or just watching?”

  I turn to see Carter standing there, head bowed. The red light in the room doing something magical in his blonde, shimmering hair.

  “I’m going to hurt him later.”

  Carter whimpers.

  “He was a naughty boy?”

  “Very,” I whisper, the word dripping with evil intent.

  He falls to his knees, not bracing himself, the thump is hard and loud on the wood floors.

  I hum and smile, turning back to look at Dem, “But later, I’m thirsty.”

  “As my queen commands,” Dem shifts off the bed, as smooth as the satin sheets.

  “Lay down my pet.” He orders our snack for the night.

  ‘Pet’ kneels on the edge of the sofa and turns as her body slides up beside me, as smooth as her master I see. She moves like living art.

  He does always b
ring me his best.

  She lies on the sofa flat, I sit up propped on the pillows, when Dem gets to his knees between his pet’s thighs, I actually raise an eyebrow curiously.

  “For extra flavor, I will perform oral, my Queen.”

  “That will change the way her blood tastes?”

  He smiles slyly. “Everything changes the way the blood tastes.”

  A light whimper escapes from the pet, I look down at the pretty girl. Expertly applied makeup, gentle lips made for kissing… sucking. Expressive eyes that I’d enjoy simply looking into as Dem tortures her slowly.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been out of the cage?”

  “Every day.”

  I huff, “Not much need will be built up.”

  Dem chuckles. I turn to look at him as he produces a key from one of the frills on his shirt.

  “My queen does not ask the right questions… how long since your last ejaculation, pet?”

  “Two-hundred and thirty-six nights,” She whispers, almost haunted.

  I lick my lips. “You tease her every day?”

  He hums yes, “Her cock leaks involuntarily often… she must be punished, naughty boy.”

  The pet whimpers again.

  He punishes her with exactly what causes her to misbehave, what a vicious and wonderful cycle.

  “She’s going to come.” I whisper staring down into those pools of pain. She won’t be able to hold it, not with me so close.

  “Of course,” Dem whispers full of evil.

  “You’re going to punish her for it?”

  “No, my Queen, you are.”

  A low groan… something almost not human, escapes the back of my throat. I run a hand down the side of the girl’s cheek gently as Dem frees her cock from the cage. Her eyes close.

  “No, I want to watch your soul fall apart.”

  Her eyes open again and begin to pool with tears. I don’t look away from the oceans of agony, but I know exactly when Dem sucks her into his mouth. Her pupils dilate with pleasure, her bottom lip begins trembling.

  All of her shell falls away. Her truth now exposed. She hates her own body, she hates her cock, but master reminds her of the pleasure it brings far too often – even if he never lets her have it.

  I hand my glass of bloodwine to Carter to hold and take the pet’s hand raising her wrist up to my lips. My fangs snap down, and I strike quickly, pushing the sharp points into her wrist. I pull my fangs back into my gums and tighten my lips around her wrist as the blood begins to flow into my mouth… never taking my eyes from hers.

  The thick fluid bursts with flavor, her need, her self-hate, her disgust, her self-love, her gentle heart, her angry truth. God made her wrong and how she hates him for it.

  Yes, she sought out the devil to fix the mistake – goddess help her, she found one.

  I moan, she screams.

  “Master please!”

  But Dem’s mouth is full of cock, he’s not going to give her permission and like hell I’m going to. I moan as I break away from her wrist and slide down on the sofa, I’ve wanted to bite her nipples since I saw them.

  “Such a beautiful pet,” I whisper as I suck her puckered nipple into my mouth.

  I don’t bite down, not yet, my human teeth grate against the sensitive bit gently… letting the anticipation build. I bring up a hand to tease the tip of her other breast, lacing it with power and magic and the need of a succubus as I pinch the delicate morsel between my fingertips.

  Her body begins grinding wildly. “I’m going to, please, oh please.” She whispers, resigned to the complete inability to control what happens to her body.

  Whatever the cost – it is worth it; my power makes sure she believes that.

  I turn to watch Dem go down on her, sucking with skill… if I had a dick, I’d be jealous. He moans and his eyes seem to smile with knowing as he pulls away at the last moment.

  “Bite.” He orders me and I let my fangs sink into her breast, sweetly, slowly. Just the right amount of pain to enhance the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

  He goes back down on her, sucking his pet’s cock like it’s his favorite thing to do. It doesn’t take long, not with my power, her perpetual chastity with daily tease and denial – she screams with her orgasm, shrill and filled with pain and pleasure. The taste of her blood is different as she comes, it’s filled with shame… and satisfaction – bitter with sweet undertones.

  I pull away breathlessly as Dem lets go of her cock with a wet sucking sound and crawls up the bed, parting the girl’s thighs as her body convulses with pleasure still riding the high of my power and her own release.

  Dem slips a hand between their bodies and a moment later I know he’s entered her… viciously. She moans wildly, enjoying every bit of it. Dem may not be a good man, but he is considerate in love, he wishes to see everyone pleased when he’s with them – slave or king, god or goddess – he receives pleasure from knowing you are pleased.

  I take back the glass of bloodwine from Carter as Dem kisses his pet, spilling her come into her mouth.

  As her shame tumbles down her throat and Dem spills his seed into her ass… I drink the wine mixed with the power of their joined pleasure and a flavor so wild I cannot attempt to name it runs across my tongue. My head spins with power and magic and anything I could have ever cared about gets swept away in the pleasure and satisfaction I feel.

  Lucien and Jack may hate him… but Demetri knows how to keep a fallen queen from destroying a world.

  Please her.

  10

  Jaevia

  The euphoria of feeding as both vampire and succubus takes me too new heights of depravity. And much like drinking too much blood, feeding on too much lust makes bad decisions feel like good decisions.

  For once I temper myself. I have Demetri send for a couple of crow vampires that act as servers at Kiss. They come to carry ‘pet’ away. She passed out, I played a dangerous game feeding from a human and taking her life force by drinking both her passion and blood. The line between life and death is a very fragile thing in humans.

  Punishing her for ejaculating would kill her and although I am evil. I am also kind and benevolent. I will not repay such a sacrifice with death, even if Demetri would not care one iota if I did.

  Besides, “we will have more entertainment tonight.” I murmur smiling. “Won’t we, Carter?”

  “Yes, my Queen.” He whispers and I can hear the keen edge of need in his voice. Deep and gravely, changing from man to animal bit by painful bit.

  Being this close to me while I actively use my power is driving the humanity from him… soon there will be nothing but the beast, and the beast will be punished.

  “Jaevia, have you decided what to do for the bachelor party?”

  I smile a hidden smile, “Let’s do it.”

  A few weeks ago Dem suggested I leave a… special gift for my men for their bachelor party. His idea is a bit cruel, but perhaps they need it. I don’t want them to ever forget exactly who and what they’re marrying.

  “I will make the arrangements, if you will leave word with your delicious Franklin that this done by the Queen’s command?”

  I nod slightly, humming as I stand up beside the kneeling Carter, “Take off your shirt and come here, slave.”

  He whines again in the back of his throat, “May I stand, my Queen?”

  “Yes,” I whisper and walk away from him and to the wall filled with the instruments of a taker.

  The array of tools that can be used to cause pain is extensive, every manner of flogger imaginable… there are even a few selections to choose from if erotic stimulation is the goal rather than brutal agony.

  I take stock in it all and decide on something middle of the road, a thirty-inch leather flogger with knotted ends.

  “Mistress, please no…” the slave whispers.

  “What?” I turn eyebrow raised, how dare he…

  He whines again hanging his head but raises his hand to point at another s
election, “Please Mistress,” he whispers low.

  I turn to look at what he’s pointed out and even my cold heard heart seizes with worry.

  He’s pointed out the Widow Maker, a flogger so wretched I’ve been afraid to even touch it… made of bone and metal and aged leather – surely a thing like that carries sin embedded within. Ready to curse any who wields it.

  I know it’s Némion’s, yet I’ve never seen her touch it either. For some reason him pointing it out, sobers me. I love a game of blood and pain – the dark Lilith as my witness I do… but this will tear flesh from bone and crack marrow from its root.

  “Carter…”

  “I deserve it,” he hisses low.

  Something inside of me pauses again… thoughts spindle in the making. Maybe this is one of those times when I am not meant to hurt but to love. Maybe this is the time I’ve been waiting for, a moment to really mend the things that are broken between us.

  I start to offer just that when Jack comes up the stairs, a large black cloth bag on his shoulder.

  It’s easy to see from the outline of the bag that there is a body inside of it. Whoever it is, they’re out cold or they’ve resolved themselves to their current predicament and aren’t fighting back at all.

  Jack walks over to me as I turn to face him and dumps the body at my feet, getting to one knee before me.

  “Tribute, my queen,” Jack murmurs.

  The bag doesn’t move, which settles the question if whoever is in it is awake.

  “Is it dead?”

  “No, my queen.”

  “Who is it?”

  Jack reaches to the top of the bag and unties it, pulling it down a bit… it’s the very reporter who decided to verbally attack me.

  “Oh,” I whisper appreciatively as all the mercy I was just feeling for Carter gets washed away with my desire to see this man at my feet utterly destroyed.

  “Strip him down, get him hung in the center of the room, arms and legs.” I look to Carter, “You go and get me another drink,” I smile. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”