by Claire Marta
Feeling her body tense, I know she’s close to an orgasm.
Grinning at Cassandra’s frustrated scream, I remove my hand from its teasing.
Laughing, I step back to survey my handy work.
Skin flushed, perspiration glistens over her naked limbs. I can tell that she’s battling to control the desire burning through her veins. Ravishing. That was the only word I can call her.
“You fucking bastard.” Tossing me a contemptuous glare over her shoulder, she hisses. “What the hell do you want from me?”
“I want you to submit to me completely.” Tweaking her nipple, I twist it cruelly.
“Why?” She groans, wiggling from the stimulation.
“Because is it the only way I will ever let you come.” It’s true. I need it like breathing. Need it from this female who has aroused something inside me from the moment I first touched her. A desire to dominate. Own her. Brand her in some way so every male who takes interest will know she has already been taken.
“I hate you,” she spits back so full of fire and passion.
“That still won’t stop this,” I snarl. “Nothing else exists for you now but pleasing me. I’m your world now, Little Dove. Your salvation. The only thing standing between you and the monsters that inhabit these god forsaken walls.”
Panting, Cassandra’s attention darts toward the open door.
“They would fucking rip you apart if they decided to play with you.” I feel her stiffen. The thought scares her. Good. She needs to be frightened. Terrified.
Edging her close to release again, I deny her over and over.
Her sounds of anger soon dissolve into whimpers and pleas. Body shaking, she can’t hide how desperately she wants what I continue to withhold.
I know what it is like to be denied. Aware that it’s hurting.
Straining in my jeans, my cock pulses painfully for its own relief
“Please Master, let me come,” Cassandra begs at last. “I can’t take it.”
It’s music to my ears. Everything I’ve wanted to hear her sweet, young voice say.
Stroking, coaxing I bring her once more to the brink before this time letting her tumble over.
Her legs spasm and quake as the orgasm I’ve prevented for so long over takes her. Eyes rolling back in her head, she screams long and hard.
“Good girl.” Cupping her cheek, I stroke her skin with my thumb. It’s soft and perfect. The smell of her fragrant juices still wet on my fingers. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come, do you know that? You fly apart.”
She gazes up at me through glazed, heavy eyes. The look she gives in the dreamy blue orbs is as if I’ve hung the moon and stars. She’s tasted pleasure, and she liked it. Body limp, I know now she’ll be feeling drowsy. All her fight has long fled. For now, she’s sated and compliant.
A sigh escapes her.
Placing the digits I’ve used to pleasure her against the fullness of her lips, I watch her tongue dart out to sample herself. Her eyes dilate as she licked them clean.
I’m so tempted just to take her here and now. She’ll be slick and ready. I know she’s far from prepared. My little Dove needs time to come accustomed to my touch. To tame her. When I take her, I’ll need to hear her beg for it.
Hands tipping her face up, my mouth meets hers. It's a brief, hard controlled kiss and over before she has time to react properly. It’s impulsive. I don’t kiss. It’s a rule. Too intimate. So why did I just break it?
Kneeling I carefully unbuckled her ankles. Rubbing them gently, I work some life back into the stiff limbs. Next I unlocked one of the cuffs.
Sagging forward, Cassandra falls against me, her head resting wearily on my chest.
Keeping her upright with one arm, I free her from the other restraint.
She crumples. Body weak from what it has endured, she no longer has the energy to hold herself upright.
Lifting her up gently, I carry her back to her room and lay her on the bench.
The moment she touches it, she rolls onto her side, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. For once, she looks at peace. Still lost in a haze of bliss.
Retrieving the blanket, I draped it over her.
She’s done well. Eyes already closing, I can see exhaustion and the cauldron of emotions I’ve created storming inside my little Dove has been draining. Bending down, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Her training had only just gotten started. By the time I’m finished, she’ll know how to please me in every way.
Leaving her to rest, I’m careful to lock her door. If she was ever unlucky enough to escape, she would face the other creatures that live in the unforgiving Kingdom. Her safety then would become null and void. It’s something I can’t let happen. Not now. Not ever.
11
Soren
Sweat drips down my forehead beneath my leather mask as I concentrate on my work. The flesh I’m slicing through is tough from over marking. Each time it’s healed, it’s left it rubbery and denser. Disfigured with the same silvery scars that blemish one side of my hidden face.
My brother doesn’t flinch away like he used to at the beginning. Through time, his pain receptors have dulled. It made me have to think up new ways to serve him up agony. Justice for his crimes.
“I hear that Hell’s Legions are on the move, and the Devil is leaving a bloodbath in his wake,” he murmurs, watching the crimson flowing thickly along his arm and dripping between his fingers.
I don’t look up from my task of slashing up his forearm. “And who told you that?”
He grunts when I dig the blade deeper right down to the bone. “I told you before. Whispers in the dark.”
“These four walls are all you should care about; they'll be the only thing you’re ever going to see.”
“You sound angrier than usual brother. Are you frustrated with something or someone hmm?”
“If you keep talking, I’ll lower you to the bottom of the pool. You won’t drown but I can assure you it’s something you won’t enjoy with the things that live down there that enjoy eating flesh.”
His eyes flash with mild curiosity at the new threat behind the veil of grubby, tangled long hair. “Your home is decaying around you. Eroding like its mad King. This prison will not last forever. Eventually I will be free of these bonds, and when I am, my revenge on you will be devastating when I take back my Kingdom.”
My laugh is humorless. “There’s nothing you can do to me now that would ever hurt me.”
He’s already taken from me the most precious thing. Another took the rest of what kept my soul in the light. His threats are as hollow as his hopes of ever escaping.
“She smelled so good. Flowers and sunshine.”
My hands still, the tip of my knife still embedded in his flesh. Gaze fixed on the trickling blood, my heart rate soars to a sickening rhythm at his words.
“Her breasts were creamy and soft. When I fucked her, she screamed for you...”
“Shut up.” I sliced off his cock for the rape the same day, but it wasn’t enough.
“She fought me with everything she had,” he continues softly.
“I said shut up.”
“Even when I ripped out her heart,” he persists with a note of glee at my torment. “For one second, she wore an expression as if she couldn’t believe you hadn’t been there to save her.”
I took my knives to him in retribution and carved up his handsome face. Ruined his beauty for murdering my wife.
Punching the button, I watch the floor slide open. Surprised blue eyes meet mine for a split second before my brother tumbles through the hole into the murky, black waters beneath. The length of chain attached to the rock ceiling smoothly lowers rapidly until it's taught.
Expression grim, I survey the string of air bubbles rising to the surface. Breathing hard, trembling the turbulent emotions inside me send my heart pounding faster.
The bastard deserves everything he gets. Let the things in the river feast on his flesh
. He may be immortal, but there are worse things than dying. In a day or two, I’ll bring him back up.
Throwing open the cell door, I lock it hurriedly. Being with him has left me in a foul mood.
“Master Soren, how did it go?” Jasper asks from where he’s seated in front of his laptop when I discover him in the security room. Wall to wall monitors flicker with images of every hallway, exit, and entrance. One hand palming the bulge in the front of his pants, an empty bottle of bliss lays on its side on the keyboard before him.
An icy glare is my only reply. He knows better than to sample the product while working. Flying off on a high is not watching the prisoners. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him using while working.
Brushing an errant strand of blue hair from his eyes, the pixie pursues his lips. “That bad huh? Well I guess you won’t be thrilled to learn the Warden is waiting for you in your quarters. Lucien wasn’t here to distract her as he’s feeding that mutt of yours,” he continues twisting to stare at the screens. “It’s been making a mess on the lower levels with its howling.”
Storming down the hallway, it doesn’t take long to reach my private rooms. The door is ajar. Thrusting it open, I find the nosy vampire admiring a painting I have hanging above my writing desk. Anger throbs through me. She knows better than to enter my domain without permission. As our arrangement stands, she has never faltered from my rules. The fact she has now irks me.
“Get on your knees and don’t move until I return.”
My bellowed command has her twirling around on the spot. Shock and guilt wash across her features before she schools them into a look of coolness.
The look in my eyes dares her to disobey.
Without protest, she lowers herself elegantly to her knees, her attention fixed on mine.
Leaving her there, I head to the bathroom closing the door firmly behind me.
Tearing off my mask, I run calloused fingers over the ruined side of my face. Examining the mess of silvery scars, I grimace. Thick, deep claw marks that follow the contours downward from the hairline to my jaw narrowly missing my eye. I’m hideous. The result of my brother’s attack when I found him with the body of my wife. I’d barely escaped with my own. So demented and mad, he’d become near unstoppable with his rabid derangement.
A malady of my kind. I’ve managed not to succumb as rapidly, but still it’s my curse. It’s one thing I fear above all else. Become as wretched and insane as my brother.
Moving to the basin, I twist on the taps to let it fill. Cupping the refreshing cold water in my hands I splash my face and clean my hands. The sound of his words echoes in my head. It’s not enough. Never enough. He destroyed my world with one blow. Stole what was good and pure from me. Dying is too good for him. I’m trapped in a vicious circle of blame and hate.
An unwanted image of Cassandra flashes through my head. The thought of my brother ever touching her brings bile burning in my throat.
He’ll rot in his cell for eternity.
Releasing a long sigh, I turn to the window. Beyond I stare out at the landscape. It’s a world of endless night. The starless sky is nothing but a vast expanse of black. What light there is comes from effervescent glow emanating from hybrid animals and plant life.
What lives here is used to the darkness, which reigns supreme. The things that live have learned to adapt over the centuries.
I sense the presence of the female still waiting in my bed chamber. Veins still buzzing with adrenaline, I need to fuck out this excess energy. Sate myself with sex instead of violence.
Not bothering to replace the mask, I stalk back into the room. Kalia’s well aware of my appearance. The widening of her eyes betrays the fear it invokes.
Dropping into a seat, I reach for the decanter of whisky. Observing her in silence, I pour a generous measure into a glass of heavy lead crystal. The tight, blood red corset she’s wearing pulls in her trim waist. With her breasts pushed up, they’re all but spilling from the bodice. A matching skirt ends mid-thigh leaving the length of her long legs bare. Painted provocatively, the make-up she wears is just as seductive the rest of the package. She’s gone all out tonight.
“The new whore certainly looked like she is enjoying your attention,” she purrs with a sly grin, giving me a glimpse of her fangs.
The vampires here are greedy fuckers. They would take pleasure in making my little Dove bleed and not care about the damage they do. Her purchaser has specific instructions. If they marked her too badly, there will be a price to pay.
“I’ve had better slaves,” I reply in a bored tone. “She’ll soon learn her place.”
“I thought I told you to get rid of that?” With a gesture of her hand, Kalia points with disgust at the necklace I’m wearing.
Clasping the ring dangling at the end in my palm, I tuck it away safely under my shirt. “It’s just a piece of jewelry.”
I won’t be parted with the last piece of my wife. The wedding ring she wore so lovingly. It never comes off. Kalia might be Mistress of the Prison, but she’s not Mistress of me.
Taking a long sip of my drink at last, the alcohol burns its way down my throat. Over the rim, I give the sultry female a long considering look.
“What do you want?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Tongue darting out, she wets her lips leaving a sheen of saliva. “I thought we could have some fun?”
“You want me to fuck you.”
“Yes.”
“Crawl across the floor and lick my boot.”
Kalia doesn’t even hesitate. Slinking along the floor, she’s kneeling in front of me in record time.
Gulping down more of the whisky, I watch her bend over. Face reaching the shiny black leather of my boot, her pink tongue flicks out to touch the surface. Cat-like, she licks it in long slow swipes.
“And the other one,” I murmur after she’s bathed the exterior of the first one in a shiny wet sheen of saliva.
Shifting her weight, she shuffles to the other side. Admiring her round, tight arse sticking up in the air, my cock thickens in my pants. She’ll do anything to be my slut. Degrade herself in any way imaginable.
Discarding my glass, I reach forward threading my fingers through the length of her blonde hair. Directing her head up, I press her face into my crotch. Nuzzling, she rubs her nose eagerly along the span of my burgeoning erection.
Forcing her closer, her delicate hands spread wide on my open thighs. “That’s a good slut.”
She likes it rough. Loves being manhandled as if she’s nothing. I’m more than happy to indulge. Give her exactly what she wants. She may be in control of the prison, but in the bedroom, she’s nothing but a dirty submissive.
“Please, Master Soren, I want your cock.”
“I do so enjoy hearing you beg for it.” Hand on the back of her skull, I push her to the ground.
Rising swiftly, I move behind her. The hem of her short skirt has ridden up giving me a clear view that Kalia is without underwear. Descending to my knees, I palm the rounded globes of her arse cheeks.
She’s already sopping wet. Her pussy soaked with her arousal.
Unzipping my pants, I aim for her womanhood and press it to her entrance. Heaving out an excited breath, she wriggles back trying to entice me.
At the last second, I change my mind. Aiming higher between her cheeks I shove my cock into the tightness of her puckered hole. I’m slightly gentler when I take her arse, but this evening, I want her to feel pain.
“Ahh!” Her body arches beneath me at the intrusion. It aids my actions. Unrelentingly I push past the ring of muscles. Thrusting farther I sink deeper as she writhes.
Kalia sobs, her body trembling from the violation. “It hurts!”
“But you like it don’t you, slut?” To prove my point, my hand snakes between her legs. Running my fingers along her pussy lips, she soaks me with her need. It’s dripping onto the floor, and she can’t hide how badly she’s really enjoying this.
Moaning
low in her throat, her forehead drops to rest on the cold wooden floor.
With short, sharp thrusts, I fuck her, not giving her time to adjust.
Closing my eyes, I imagine it’s Cassandra’s young body I’m fucking. Her grasping cunt taking me deep. Unleashing my darkest desires, I jack hammer into her with a quickening pace. The need to own her joins the rhythm of my pounding heart.
“Oh yes, Master, yes.”
The husky voice shatters my fantasy. Gritting my teeth, my lips curl back with displeasure. A quick meaningless fuck. That’s what this needs to be. Daydreams about a slave who is being conditioned for a client are something I shouldn’t harbor.
“Keep your mouth shut unless you want me to whip you,” I warn Kalia.
She’s defied me before to receive a punishment. Tonight, I’m not in the mood, but if she pushes me, I’ll willingly oblige.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she chants hoarsely, her fingernails clawing at the floor. “Fuck me, Soren. I’m your dirty girl.” Her back arches further, her tits sliding over the wood.
She’s getting off on being controlled. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes fix on mine. Mascara streaks her cheeks along with her tears.
My hand slapping across her arse, she yelps in response. She knows what will happen when we finish. My crop will mark her back. A true masochist, she loves to goad me. Once I’m done fucking her, she’ll clean up the mess she’s made on the floor with her tongue. That thought tips me over. Hips jerking, I unload my cum in her back passage not bothering to pull out instead letting it fill her.
12
Cassandra
“Good morning, Little Dove. Stand up.” Master strides through the door of my cell, his brown eyes gleam intensely behind the slits of his skeleton mask. Bare chested, his dark macabre, death flower tattoos are on display as well as the hard slab of his sculpted muscles.
Isolated for five days, the meals that had arrived the only indication I have of the time passing. I shouldn’t feel relieved to see Master Soren, but I am. His presence cuts through the visions strangling me, easing out the thorns of their control. I’m becoming dependent on his presence. Hungry for my only source of contact with someone else.