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Fever World of Karen Marie Moning - The erotic CruxForums Version!
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Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BOUNDFEVER - THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE
Full Short Story Length ... Will be released only here over the next week or so, with Pictures when time allows. My gorgeous muse Charlotte is, of course, cast in the role of Mac.
This story takes place during Feverborn, as chapter 5 becomes chapter 6. Mac has returned from the German Mountains from where they saved Christian. Heading for BB&B she is attacked by a battalion of Federal Guardians lead by the revenge seeking Brody O’Roark. She is hit several times by the bullets from their automatic weapons, and then, as the Unseelie Flesh that she has eaten heals her from the inside, the damnable Sinsar Dubh chooses that very moment to make her visible again …
Just imagine if it hadn’t been Barrons that found her naked on the floor, but the Unseelie Prince, Cruce (or V'Lane as we sometimes know him), free from his Ice prison under the Abbey. If you are intrigued to know what happens next then please … read on.
BoundFever ...
MAC
“… This is how I feel, I'm cold and I am shamed
Lying naked on the floor …”
“Focus, Mac,” I muttered. The bullets were only my most immediate problem. I had a whole list of others, the least of which was discovering who’d ratted out all my secrets.
My skin was already trying to close around the blade. With Unseelie flesh in me, I was healing even faster than I had before. I realized I had to keep slicing while I had the knife in there, moving the blade back and forth. It was curiously like operating on someone else’s body. I barely felt it. It took me two tries to get the bullet out of my thigh. Three to get the one in my arm out.
Of course, that’s how he found me. Sprawled on the floor with a couple of chunks of misshapen metal nestled in the valley between my leg and hip, a switchblade in one hand, alcohol which I hadn’t had time to use in another, a feral look of triumph on my face. I might have even been laughing a little.
Butt-ass naked.
When I looked up, I saw a beautiful face leering down at me … and it wasn’t Barrons!
“Surprised to see me Mackayla?” V’lane’s intonation was smug and his words mocking, but they were the last ones I heard as, with a flash of his hand, my world went black.
I'd drifted back into consciousness, aware of a blinding light and uncomfortable warmth. It took me a while to become fully aware but when I did, I discovered I was tied to a wooden chair, one of my own from BB&B. Fuck …
My arms were crossed behind me, pulling my shoulders back and thrusting my breasts forward and my ankles were lashed to the rear legs of the chair, my knees to the front, so my legs were spread wide. My hair had been pulled back into a rough ponytail and I was still petunia-bare naked, save for the strand of pearls.
A strand of pearls? What the fuck? I had been invisible for so long that I really could not recall putting them on, except now they were all that I wore, and the string was looped suggestively under my left breast. I suddenly felt mortified at the thought of how invasively V’lane must have handled my nude body to get me into this position!
I could see nothing but the glare of a single lamp hanging high on the wall in front of me. When I cracked my eyes open beads of sweat were beginning to form on my forehead from the sudden heat in this damn room.
What the fuck was going on. I seemed to be alone.
‘Help me. Barrons where the fuck are you?’ words that I wanted to cry out but for now, playing my cards close to my exposed chest, I kept them inside my head … and then, as if beset by a tsunami of mental anguish, I remembered.
Suddenly becoming visible again …
Being shot, several times, by Brody O’Roark’s Guardians ... The wounds healing quickly as I self-operated to remove the bullets … My totally naked body being humiliatingly discovered by V’lane … or was he Cruce?
Chicken or egg? … V’lane or Cruce? … Definitely Cruce.
Why was he here in BB&B? More to the point why wasn’t he here right now in front of me, where I could see him? And why wasn’t he still imprisoned in a cage of ice beneath Arlington Abbey, where the Unseelie King had placed him.
I'd already spent what seemed like an eternity struggling against the ropes that held me, but V’lane clearly knew what he was doing. I tried knocking the chair over but it appeared to be bolted to the floor – I had no chairs that were bolted to the floor. What had he done?
Black Magic! Of course, V’lane or Cruce or who-the-fuck-ever, was now bursting with it. That’s why the King had caged him! But now he was here. Again … what-the-fuck?
By the time I finally acknowledged that much, I was well and truly stuck. My body gleamed with sweat as well as Red paint from the damage done to this place by that damn battalion of Guardians. I resigned myself to fantasising about disembowelling V’lane as soon as I got free. Did V’lane even have bowels? I shook my head to free it of where that thought might lead, and settled in to wait.
It wasn't long before I heard a door opening, and footsteps approaching. I squinted against the light, trying desperately to see who was there, hoping that it might just be … but it wasn’t, and then … I screamed in a typically Mac 1.0 kind of way as a jet of icy water hit me in the chest. It lasted for only a second but the cold knocked the wind out of me, leaving me gasping for air, and my nude body with less red paint splodges than before.
"Hello again, Mackayla." said a familiar voice. V’lane. That fucker. Who else.
"I'm sorry about all of this, really I am. I'd much prefer to just tie you down and fuck your ass like I did at the church, but I do need information from you first, and I suppose this will be entertaining in its own way."
"Go to hell V’lane, you monster, and leave my petunia out of this" I growled, "I won't tell you anything. You know that,” though what information he wanted from me I had no idea. But finding me with my sidhe-seer powers diminished from the Unseelie Flesh writhing around inside of me, and my spear still with Jada, V’lane had taken me down at the optimum moment.
The fucker just smiled at me.
“You know that I’ll be found and then your petunia will be fucking toast you bastard.”
“My what?”
“Your ass, V’lane, or should I say Prince Cruce. And at least you’ve had the decency to show yourself this time, not like last time when raping me wasn’t enough for you, you had to be invisible to do it. You coward.”
Again, he smiled, and to be honest I knew I was on very shaky ground.
“Yes Mackayla, you should say Prince Cruce, for that is who I am.”
“Except for half a million years, give or take a month or two, you weren’t!” I said this sentence without having any point in mind, and realised that I was babbling words to try and cover up my mounting fear.
This monster had loved me once. He took care of my home town and my parents when the walls fell … and he raped me ... at the church, with the others. And now I hated him, but in this condition with my sidhe-seer powers muted, I also had good reason to fear him.
I had no sentient powers right now, not to mention no clothes, and where Barrons was I had no idea.
“Why aren’t you …”
“In a prison underneath the Abbey?” He finished off my sentence for me.
“I only allowed my incarceration to persist in order to humour the weak homo-sapiens that reside there, oh and so that I could visit the sleeping Grand Mistress every night and seduce her in her dreams. Do you really think that vulnerable, malleable, sweet little Kat could hold me against my will?”
“But the Unseelie King put you there …”
Cruce smirked. “Mackayla, I devoured the contents of the book’s Black Magic. I intend to combine the Dark and the Light Courts and rule over the new Faery … even the King is now no match for me.”
“What do you want Cruce? Tell me please and then let’s get this,” whatever this was going to be, “… over and done with.”
My words offered up far more confidence than my mind felt right now. Surely someone would miss me - they had to? Barrons would … and … and … who else? Fuck maybe no one would miss me …
“All I need is the remainder of the book and I will be all powerful! And you, Mackayla Lane, are the book!”
And there we had it. This was all about the book.
“Barrons will come for me … you know that right?” I was getting increasingly desperate.
Now he laughed out loud. “You think Barrons even knows his precious Mac is in my safe keeping? Do you think he would actually care if he did? He didn’t rush to your aid when we took you at the church, did he, huh?”
I closed my eyes. My mind a jumble of thoughts
“Look at this place Cruce, please … I need to …” I couldn’t avoid the desperate intonation infusing my words. I struggled against the ropes that were holding me, futilely and to no avail of course. “It’s a mess, I need to fix it … please let me fix it …” Lame and desperate words for a desperate situation.
More silence, just an inane grin on the face of this monster, the Unseelie Prince who was adept at masquerading as his Seelie equivalent whenever he needed or wanted to. A very dangerous Fae that I knew only too well.
It was then that I realised. The ultimate death-by-sex Fae was just a few feet from me, and with my sidhe-seer powers temporarily absent … yet I felt nothing. No overwhelming urge to beg for his cock, or …
He laughed. “You are wondering why you don’t feel sexual energy from me Mackayla. I know you are without your senses at this moment because of the Unseelie flesh inside you, and I know therefore that you would feel my energy if I so chose to engage you. But I do not choose to do that. This time Mackayla I have tuned my energies down. I want you to experience me without the anaesthetic of Pri'ya. I will have you again Mackayla Lane, and this time you will live every little detail with agonising awareness …”
Fuck! I felt like crying … but there was no way that Cruce was going to have the pleasure of seeing me like that!
“What do you want with me Cruce? I can’t give you the book … I wish I could, but …” I looked him in the eye, water still dripping from my breasts and hardened nipples. He said nothing. Instead he turned away and slowly removed his jacket, looking every inch the GQ Model, before rolling up his sleeves as if preparing for business. His actions allowed me time to think and ponder, but I only managed to ask myself more questions about how, what, why and what-the-fuck!
I was startled out of my reverie by another blast of cold water, this time to my crotch. I gasped, reflexively trying to close my legs as V’lane played the stream of water up and down my slit, and then I shrieked in rage and pain as he focused it in on my clit. The fucker seemed to be blasting the jet from his fingers ... he had the black magic inside himself. He had consumed the dark side of the Sinsar Dubh!
"You bastaaaaaaard!" I managed to gasp out loud in an extended curse once the water had stopped. "You haven't even asked me anything. Are you just doing this for fun, you sick fuck?"
He stopped and stared at me and then laughed.
"Hmm, you're right. I am doing this for fun. We'll get to the questions later." He grinned, pointed his hand at me, and turned the water back on again, this time aiming for my nipples. I felt them harden into firm little points, the icy water both painful and slightly arousing as it washed over my breasts. When he stopped, I began to shiver, goose bumps growing on my skin, steam rising under the glare of the single lamp, the only light being offered in BB&B following the outrageous raid by the Guardians. I could tell by the lascivious grin on Cruce’s face that he enjoyed seeing the muscles in my back and belly, tight and trembling as they glistened.
I was breathing fast, anticipating the next jet of water, when the single lamplight was suddenly snapped off, disorienting me. I opened my eyes quickly but my vision was a mass of bright spots and I didn't see Cruce until his hand was already on my breast, kneading and tugging on it, tweaking my nipple.
"You're so lovely, Mackayla. Beautiful Mac. I really should have had you more to myself when we took you at the church, instead of sharing you with the others. I should have been the one to break you, me alone, not alongside them …" he said, his hand trailing down my stomach. "It really is too bad that you there was no way for you to become the concubine … my concubine."
"All I am is down to you, and your King’s twisted fucking book …" I growled, trying to ignore his fingers sliding gently up and down the folds of my pussy. There was a tiny drop of moisture developing there and I was hoping he wouldn't notice. I couldn't bear for him to think that he was getting to me, because he wasn't. No way. No fucking way … except he was, and this time there was no Pri'ya conditioning, it was all down to him and his … ohhhhh fuck, ohhhhh my gosh.
"Oh Mackayla, or do you prefer Mac, or Ms Lane?" he smirked.
"We both know that you can insult me as much as you like and it won't change anything. Keep right on telling me just how much of a monster I am, keep on pretending you hate me, but remember that I've got my fingers inside your body and I can feel how wet you are." He punctuated his words by thrusting one finger into my pussy and I moaned slightly, ashamed because he was right, it slid in easily …
"Fuck you." I managed to whisper, knowing as I said it that it was a lame response.
"That's it, Mackayla, just enjoy it." he said, ignoring my protest. "You see, although I have consumed the Dark Magic from the book … you have the complete tome, you ARE the book Mackayla and you need to tell me how I can take it from you, in its entirety.”
Despite his touch growing more distractingly insistent, my eyes widened.
“Oh yes, Mackayla, I don’t just want what you have, I need it … the book, you, everything …”
I tried not to groan, before mumbling quietly, “It’s … I can’t … I don’t know how … fuck you, Cruce, ohhhhhh please …”
The Unseelie monster just laughed at me.
Where was Barrons? Why had I chosen now to eat the Unseelie Flesh (because we couldn’t have rescued Christian and I’d be a bloody unhealed mess, still shot to pieces if I hadn’t) and why the fuck had this damn book decided that right now was the time for me to become visible again … Wait … was the book working in partnership with V’lane, or Cruce or whatever he wanted to be?
Crapola! Was that it?
Failing in my efforts to remain silent I moaned out loud, my head swimming as I tried to process his words through the persistent tide of pleasure emanating from my pussy. He'd switched to two fingers and was gently stroking them in and out, rubbing my clit with his thumb as he did so. I was dripping juices all over the chair, and my hips were bucking against his hand despite myself. I moaned in protest as he withdrew his fingers, lifting his hand up to my face and pressing them against my lips.
"Taste yourself, Mackayla. Taste the nectar that feeds Barrons, that will soon feed me,” he growled roughly, obviously turned on. I let him push the fingers into my mouth, fighting a moan of pleasure, and then I bit down as hard as I could, grinding my teeth in.
"Fuck!" he yelled, snatching his fingers back. I knew a fleeting moment of victory before he grabbed my hair tightly, yanking my head back, and began to slap my breasts, hard. I cried out in shock and pain, struggling against the ropes as the blows rained down again and again reddening the firm flesh of my chest.
"You're going to pay for that, Mackayla," he panted, aiming a pair of especially hard slaps to my left nipple. My vision had begun to return and in the very dim gloom that we had without the lamplight being on, I could see handprints forming on the pale skin of my breasts, my aureole swelling and darkening from the abuse. "I'm going to enjoy punishing you so much Ms Lane."
I could feel tears leaking from my eyes as he continued to beat me, the slap of hand on flesh and his ragged breathing the only sounds as I bit my lip against the moans and cries bubbling up inside me. I would not give him the satisfaction of manifesting my pain, I would not show him that he was winning. I was close to breaking down and crying out when he finally stopped, abruptly letting go of my hair. My breasts felt hot and swollen, the skin reddened all over, and I sagged in my bonds, panting.
Then, standing slightly back, far enough for me to see the thick erection bulging under his leather pants, he pointed his fingers at me yet again.
For a second, the cold water was soothing, but soon it just made things worse. I gritted my teeth as he sprayed short, icy blasts at first my right nipple, then my left, making them contract and pucker even more painfully each time. After a few rounds upon each nipple in turn, he walked up and took them in his hands, slowly tugging and twisting at the achingly stiff peaks. The combination of soreness and cold made them incredibly sensitive, and I could feel a helpless little whimper rising at the back of my throat.
No! I wasn't going to let him hear me whine like a beaten animal. As he released me, I was about to say something smart about the lengths he had to go to these days in order to get a girl, only to gasp as a blast of icy water filled my mouth.
Choking and sputtering, I tried to blink away the spray as the harsh lamplight snapped back on. "Ah-ah, Mackayla," he taunted. "If you're going to bite then you won't get to use your mouth for anything else." He began to run the tight, high-pressure stream back and forth across my breasts, and then dipped to torment my exposed pussy in a triangle that made my whole body tense and tremble. I clenched my fists, but kept my mouth shut … it was better than being drowned, but only just.
(Part 1 continued in next message...)
Full Short Story Length ... Will be released only here over the next week or so, with Pictures when time allows. My gorgeous muse Charlotte is, of course, cast in the role of Mac.
This story takes place during Feverborn, as chapter 5 becomes chapter 6. Mac has returned from the German Mountains from where they saved Christian. Heading for BB&B she is attacked by a battalion of Federal Guardians lead by the revenge seeking Brody O’Roark. She is hit several times by the bullets from their automatic weapons, and then, as the Unseelie Flesh that she has eaten heals her from the inside, the damnable Sinsar Dubh chooses that very moment to make her visible again …
Just imagine if it hadn’t been Barrons that found her naked on the floor, but the Unseelie Prince, Cruce (or V'Lane as we sometimes know him), free from his Ice prison under the Abbey. If you are intrigued to know what happens next then please … read on.
BoundFever ...
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 1
"Lying Naked on the Floor"
I will tie you up and torture you in all the best ways
It could last for hours, or maybe even daze
It will leave you dehydrated, aching, sticky and sore
It will leave you physically unable to say you want more …
It will be too hard,
Too soft,
Just right,
Not enough
Tease, tease, choke, bite, gag, spit … so rough!
"Lying Naked on the Floor"
I will tie you up and torture you in all the best ways
It could last for hours, or maybe even daze
It will leave you dehydrated, aching, sticky and sore
It will leave you physically unable to say you want more …
It will be too hard,
Too soft,
Just right,
Not enough
Tease, tease, choke, bite, gag, spit … so rough!
MAC
“… This is how I feel, I'm cold and I am shamed
Lying naked on the floor …”
“Focus, Mac,” I muttered. The bullets were only my most immediate problem. I had a whole list of others, the least of which was discovering who’d ratted out all my secrets.
My skin was already trying to close around the blade. With Unseelie flesh in me, I was healing even faster than I had before. I realized I had to keep slicing while I had the knife in there, moving the blade back and forth. It was curiously like operating on someone else’s body. I barely felt it. It took me two tries to get the bullet out of my thigh. Three to get the one in my arm out.
Of course, that’s how he found me. Sprawled on the floor with a couple of chunks of misshapen metal nestled in the valley between my leg and hip, a switchblade in one hand, alcohol which I hadn’t had time to use in another, a feral look of triumph on my face. I might have even been laughing a little.
Butt-ass naked.
When I looked up, I saw a beautiful face leering down at me … and it wasn’t Barrons!
“Surprised to see me Mackayla?” V’lane’s intonation was smug and his words mocking, but they were the last ones I heard as, with a flash of his hand, my world went black.
I'd drifted back into consciousness, aware of a blinding light and uncomfortable warmth. It took me a while to become fully aware but when I did, I discovered I was tied to a wooden chair, one of my own from BB&B. Fuck …
My arms were crossed behind me, pulling my shoulders back and thrusting my breasts forward and my ankles were lashed to the rear legs of the chair, my knees to the front, so my legs were spread wide. My hair had been pulled back into a rough ponytail and I was still petunia-bare naked, save for the strand of pearls.
A strand of pearls? What the fuck? I had been invisible for so long that I really could not recall putting them on, except now they were all that I wore, and the string was looped suggestively under my left breast. I suddenly felt mortified at the thought of how invasively V’lane must have handled my nude body to get me into this position!
I could see nothing but the glare of a single lamp hanging high on the wall in front of me. When I cracked my eyes open beads of sweat were beginning to form on my forehead from the sudden heat in this damn room.
What the fuck was going on. I seemed to be alone.
‘Help me. Barrons where the fuck are you?’ words that I wanted to cry out but for now, playing my cards close to my exposed chest, I kept them inside my head … and then, as if beset by a tsunami of mental anguish, I remembered.
Suddenly becoming visible again …
Being shot, several times, by Brody O’Roark’s Guardians ... The wounds healing quickly as I self-operated to remove the bullets … My totally naked body being humiliatingly discovered by V’lane … or was he Cruce?
Chicken or egg? … V’lane or Cruce? … Definitely Cruce.
Why was he here in BB&B? More to the point why wasn’t he here right now in front of me, where I could see him? And why wasn’t he still imprisoned in a cage of ice beneath Arlington Abbey, where the Unseelie King had placed him.
I'd already spent what seemed like an eternity struggling against the ropes that held me, but V’lane clearly knew what he was doing. I tried knocking the chair over but it appeared to be bolted to the floor – I had no chairs that were bolted to the floor. What had he done?
Black Magic! Of course, V’lane or Cruce or who-the-fuck-ever, was now bursting with it. That’s why the King had caged him! But now he was here. Again … what-the-fuck?
By the time I finally acknowledged that much, I was well and truly stuck. My body gleamed with sweat as well as Red paint from the damage done to this place by that damn battalion of Guardians. I resigned myself to fantasising about disembowelling V’lane as soon as I got free. Did V’lane even have bowels? I shook my head to free it of where that thought might lead, and settled in to wait.
It wasn't long before I heard a door opening, and footsteps approaching. I squinted against the light, trying desperately to see who was there, hoping that it might just be … but it wasn’t, and then … I screamed in a typically Mac 1.0 kind of way as a jet of icy water hit me in the chest. It lasted for only a second but the cold knocked the wind out of me, leaving me gasping for air, and my nude body with less red paint splodges than before.
"Hello again, Mackayla." said a familiar voice. V’lane. That fucker. Who else.
"I'm sorry about all of this, really I am. I'd much prefer to just tie you down and fuck your ass like I did at the church, but I do need information from you first, and I suppose this will be entertaining in its own way."
"Go to hell V’lane, you monster, and leave my petunia out of this" I growled, "I won't tell you anything. You know that,” though what information he wanted from me I had no idea. But finding me with my sidhe-seer powers diminished from the Unseelie Flesh writhing around inside of me, and my spear still with Jada, V’lane had taken me down at the optimum moment.
The fucker just smiled at me.
“You know that I’ll be found and then your petunia will be fucking toast you bastard.”
“My what?”
“Your ass, V’lane, or should I say Prince Cruce. And at least you’ve had the decency to show yourself this time, not like last time when raping me wasn’t enough for you, you had to be invisible to do it. You coward.”
Again, he smiled, and to be honest I knew I was on very shaky ground.
“Yes Mackayla, you should say Prince Cruce, for that is who I am.”
“Except for half a million years, give or take a month or two, you weren’t!” I said this sentence without having any point in mind, and realised that I was babbling words to try and cover up my mounting fear.
This monster had loved me once. He took care of my home town and my parents when the walls fell … and he raped me ... at the church, with the others. And now I hated him, but in this condition with my sidhe-seer powers muted, I also had good reason to fear him.
I had no sentient powers right now, not to mention no clothes, and where Barrons was I had no idea.
“Why aren’t you …”
“In a prison underneath the Abbey?” He finished off my sentence for me.
“I only allowed my incarceration to persist in order to humour the weak homo-sapiens that reside there, oh and so that I could visit the sleeping Grand Mistress every night and seduce her in her dreams. Do you really think that vulnerable, malleable, sweet little Kat could hold me against my will?”
“But the Unseelie King put you there …”
Cruce smirked. “Mackayla, I devoured the contents of the book’s Black Magic. I intend to combine the Dark and the Light Courts and rule over the new Faery … even the King is now no match for me.”
“What do you want Cruce? Tell me please and then let’s get this,” whatever this was going to be, “… over and done with.”
My words offered up far more confidence than my mind felt right now. Surely someone would miss me - they had to? Barrons would … and … and … who else? Fuck maybe no one would miss me …
“All I need is the remainder of the book and I will be all powerful! And you, Mackayla Lane, are the book!”
And there we had it. This was all about the book.
“Barrons will come for me … you know that right?” I was getting increasingly desperate.
Now he laughed out loud. “You think Barrons even knows his precious Mac is in my safe keeping? Do you think he would actually care if he did? He didn’t rush to your aid when we took you at the church, did he, huh?”
I closed my eyes. My mind a jumble of thoughts
“Look at this place Cruce, please … I need to …” I couldn’t avoid the desperate intonation infusing my words. I struggled against the ropes that were holding me, futilely and to no avail of course. “It’s a mess, I need to fix it … please let me fix it …” Lame and desperate words for a desperate situation.
More silence, just an inane grin on the face of this monster, the Unseelie Prince who was adept at masquerading as his Seelie equivalent whenever he needed or wanted to. A very dangerous Fae that I knew only too well.
It was then that I realised. The ultimate death-by-sex Fae was just a few feet from me, and with my sidhe-seer powers temporarily absent … yet I felt nothing. No overwhelming urge to beg for his cock, or …
He laughed. “You are wondering why you don’t feel sexual energy from me Mackayla. I know you are without your senses at this moment because of the Unseelie flesh inside you, and I know therefore that you would feel my energy if I so chose to engage you. But I do not choose to do that. This time Mackayla I have tuned my energies down. I want you to experience me without the anaesthetic of Pri'ya. I will have you again Mackayla Lane, and this time you will live every little detail with agonising awareness …”
Fuck! I felt like crying … but there was no way that Cruce was going to have the pleasure of seeing me like that!
“What do you want with me Cruce? I can’t give you the book … I wish I could, but …” I looked him in the eye, water still dripping from my breasts and hardened nipples. He said nothing. Instead he turned away and slowly removed his jacket, looking every inch the GQ Model, before rolling up his sleeves as if preparing for business. His actions allowed me time to think and ponder, but I only managed to ask myself more questions about how, what, why and what-the-fuck!
I was startled out of my reverie by another blast of cold water, this time to my crotch. I gasped, reflexively trying to close my legs as V’lane played the stream of water up and down my slit, and then I shrieked in rage and pain as he focused it in on my clit. The fucker seemed to be blasting the jet from his fingers ... he had the black magic inside himself. He had consumed the dark side of the Sinsar Dubh!
"You bastaaaaaaard!" I managed to gasp out loud in an extended curse once the water had stopped. "You haven't even asked me anything. Are you just doing this for fun, you sick fuck?"
He stopped and stared at me and then laughed.
"Hmm, you're right. I am doing this for fun. We'll get to the questions later." He grinned, pointed his hand at me, and turned the water back on again, this time aiming for my nipples. I felt them harden into firm little points, the icy water both painful and slightly arousing as it washed over my breasts. When he stopped, I began to shiver, goose bumps growing on my skin, steam rising under the glare of the single lamp, the only light being offered in BB&B following the outrageous raid by the Guardians. I could tell by the lascivious grin on Cruce’s face that he enjoyed seeing the muscles in my back and belly, tight and trembling as they glistened.
I was breathing fast, anticipating the next jet of water, when the single lamplight was suddenly snapped off, disorienting me. I opened my eyes quickly but my vision was a mass of bright spots and I didn't see Cruce until his hand was already on my breast, kneading and tugging on it, tweaking my nipple.
"You're so lovely, Mackayla. Beautiful Mac. I really should have had you more to myself when we took you at the church, instead of sharing you with the others. I should have been the one to break you, me alone, not alongside them …" he said, his hand trailing down my stomach. "It really is too bad that you there was no way for you to become the concubine … my concubine."
"All I am is down to you, and your King’s twisted fucking book …" I growled, trying to ignore his fingers sliding gently up and down the folds of my pussy. There was a tiny drop of moisture developing there and I was hoping he wouldn't notice. I couldn't bear for him to think that he was getting to me, because he wasn't. No way. No fucking way … except he was, and this time there was no Pri'ya conditioning, it was all down to him and his … ohhhhh fuck, ohhhhh my gosh.
"Oh Mackayla, or do you prefer Mac, or Ms Lane?" he smirked.
"We both know that you can insult me as much as you like and it won't change anything. Keep right on telling me just how much of a monster I am, keep on pretending you hate me, but remember that I've got my fingers inside your body and I can feel how wet you are." He punctuated his words by thrusting one finger into my pussy and I moaned slightly, ashamed because he was right, it slid in easily …
"Fuck you." I managed to whisper, knowing as I said it that it was a lame response.
"That's it, Mackayla, just enjoy it." he said, ignoring my protest. "You see, although I have consumed the Dark Magic from the book … you have the complete tome, you ARE the book Mackayla and you need to tell me how I can take it from you, in its entirety.”
Despite his touch growing more distractingly insistent, my eyes widened.
“Oh yes, Mackayla, I don’t just want what you have, I need it … the book, you, everything …”
I tried not to groan, before mumbling quietly, “It’s … I can’t … I don’t know how … fuck you, Cruce, ohhhhhh please …”
The Unseelie monster just laughed at me.
Where was Barrons? Why had I chosen now to eat the Unseelie Flesh (because we couldn’t have rescued Christian and I’d be a bloody unhealed mess, still shot to pieces if I hadn’t) and why the fuck had this damn book decided that right now was the time for me to become visible again … Wait … was the book working in partnership with V’lane, or Cruce or whatever he wanted to be?
Crapola! Was that it?
Failing in my efforts to remain silent I moaned out loud, my head swimming as I tried to process his words through the persistent tide of pleasure emanating from my pussy. He'd switched to two fingers and was gently stroking them in and out, rubbing my clit with his thumb as he did so. I was dripping juices all over the chair, and my hips were bucking against his hand despite myself. I moaned in protest as he withdrew his fingers, lifting his hand up to my face and pressing them against my lips.
"Taste yourself, Mackayla. Taste the nectar that feeds Barrons, that will soon feed me,” he growled roughly, obviously turned on. I let him push the fingers into my mouth, fighting a moan of pleasure, and then I bit down as hard as I could, grinding my teeth in.
"Fuck!" he yelled, snatching his fingers back. I knew a fleeting moment of victory before he grabbed my hair tightly, yanking my head back, and began to slap my breasts, hard. I cried out in shock and pain, struggling against the ropes as the blows rained down again and again reddening the firm flesh of my chest.
"You're going to pay for that, Mackayla," he panted, aiming a pair of especially hard slaps to my left nipple. My vision had begun to return and in the very dim gloom that we had without the lamplight being on, I could see handprints forming on the pale skin of my breasts, my aureole swelling and darkening from the abuse. "I'm going to enjoy punishing you so much Ms Lane."
I could feel tears leaking from my eyes as he continued to beat me, the slap of hand on flesh and his ragged breathing the only sounds as I bit my lip against the moans and cries bubbling up inside me. I would not give him the satisfaction of manifesting my pain, I would not show him that he was winning. I was close to breaking down and crying out when he finally stopped, abruptly letting go of my hair. My breasts felt hot and swollen, the skin reddened all over, and I sagged in my bonds, panting.
Then, standing slightly back, far enough for me to see the thick erection bulging under his leather pants, he pointed his fingers at me yet again.
For a second, the cold water was soothing, but soon it just made things worse. I gritted my teeth as he sprayed short, icy blasts at first my right nipple, then my left, making them contract and pucker even more painfully each time. After a few rounds upon each nipple in turn, he walked up and took them in his hands, slowly tugging and twisting at the achingly stiff peaks. The combination of soreness and cold made them incredibly sensitive, and I could feel a helpless little whimper rising at the back of my throat.
No! I wasn't going to let him hear me whine like a beaten animal. As he released me, I was about to say something smart about the lengths he had to go to these days in order to get a girl, only to gasp as a blast of icy water filled my mouth.
Choking and sputtering, I tried to blink away the spray as the harsh lamplight snapped back on. "Ah-ah, Mackayla," he taunted. "If you're going to bite then you won't get to use your mouth for anything else." He began to run the tight, high-pressure stream back and forth across my breasts, and then dipped to torment my exposed pussy in a triangle that made my whole body tense and tremble. I clenched my fists, but kept my mouth shut … it was better than being drowned, but only just.
(Part 1 continued in next message...)
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
(Part 1 continued ...)
Just as I was mercifully starting to go numb, he manifested more of his damnable magic, and the water changed from icy to hot. I'm sure it wasn't any warmer than a normal shower, but against my chilled skin it burned like fire. I gasped and jerked in the chair, writhing as pins and needles danced over my sore breasts and dripping pussy.
"Interesting sensation, hmm?" he murmured as he turned off the jet, his fingers tips dripping like a hose end for a moment or two. Smiling his Supermodel smile at me, he ran a hand through the flowing lengths of his dark mane and walked up to fondle me yet again.
This time he worked me more slowly, cupping my breasts and rolling the nipple between his fingers, prolonging the painful tingling. He began to flick the very tip with his sharpened fingernail, lightly, then harder and harder until I was jerking in the chair each time. The pain was always followed by a little rush of pleasure, and it travelled from my chest through my whole body. I couldn't believe how much reaction he could get from me just by stimulating one tiny cluster of nerves. There were tears of anger and shame gathering at the corners of my eyes, and I was actually grateful that they were hidden in the water still dripping down my face and body.
At last I felt Cruce move his hand to grab hold of the strand of pearls, tugging until the clasp broke and they slithered down my chest to land on the chair between my legs.
"These are quite lovely, Mackayla. Not your usual taste, but I think they suit you,” he said, and I began to wonder what he was going to do with them. I didn’t have to wonder for long.
"I had been planning to leave them on you, as a sort of decoration, but I think you should wear them another way."
I felt him pick up the end of the strand and insert it (easily) into my pussy. I yelped as my soft folds opened for him and I attempted to buck my hips out of the way, but the ropes held me fast and I had to sit there impotently as he slowly, one by one, pushed the strand of pearls inside me. Every so often he would tug on it, pulling a few out, before pushing more in until finally I was stuffed full. Any movement of my hips caused the pearls inside me to shift and press against my soft tissue walls in a very distracting way.
I thought it couldn't get any worse until I saw him pull something small and silver from his pocket; a miniature vibrator, less than an inch long. Under normal circumstances I imagine I wouldn't have even felt it unless it was pressed directly against my clit, but Cruce had other plans.
“You been buying accessories from Chester’s?” I quipped trying to appear, at least outwardly, as if he wasn’t getting to me.
Except he was … getting to me, all of me!
He reached down and began to push the evil little device into my already full pussy, opening me, sliding it between the pearls and making me gasp as the little round jewels stretched me wide. When it was securely nestled in among them, he magicked it on and withdrew his hand.
The sensation was maddening. The faint buzz was transmitted through the pearls as they moved, causing a constantly shifting stimulation that only got worse when I tried to move around. It wasn't enough to do anything more than tease me, but the way it kept changing gave me no chance to get used to it, and I could feel my slit starting to drip with juices again.
I was helpless and still shivering, bound tightly to the chair, my breasts sore and nipples swollen as I helplessly squirmed against the buzzing pearls, and at the mercy of this Unseelie death-by-sex, Prince. A few curls of my wet hair had escaped the ponytail and clung to my face, and I could barely maintain the tenuous grip on my own mind. When he pulled back the hood of my clit and pressed his thumb against it, I could do nothing but moan.
"I was going to let you orgasm, you know. I'd been planning to finish you off after you sucked my fingers, but now I've changed my mind. You don't get to cum, Mackayla Lane, no matter how much you beg. And you will beg. By the time I’m done with you, you'll fuck anything with a cock, just like last time at the church, and you'll enjoy it."
Fuck, no! I heard enough of his words to know that the bastard intended to abuse me more, rape me to get what he wants, or what he thinks he can get from me, and then turn me Pri'ya … again!
I wanted to beg and plead. I knew that I couldn’t become Pri'ya again, it would kill me this time … where the fuck is Barrons!
But begging and pleading would serve no purpose other than to feed Cruce’s over inflated ego and fuel his perverted desires.
He yanked his hand back from my clit, laughing as I unconsciously tried, in the unwitting throes of the craving he had stirred up inside me, to follow it. Cruce stood up looking down at me, a wide grin on his face.
"This is where the real fun starts, Mackayla."
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Just as I was mercifully starting to go numb, he manifested more of his damnable magic, and the water changed from icy to hot. I'm sure it wasn't any warmer than a normal shower, but against my chilled skin it burned like fire. I gasped and jerked in the chair, writhing as pins and needles danced over my sore breasts and dripping pussy.
"Interesting sensation, hmm?" he murmured as he turned off the jet, his fingers tips dripping like a hose end for a moment or two. Smiling his Supermodel smile at me, he ran a hand through the flowing lengths of his dark mane and walked up to fondle me yet again.
This time he worked me more slowly, cupping my breasts and rolling the nipple between his fingers, prolonging the painful tingling. He began to flick the very tip with his sharpened fingernail, lightly, then harder and harder until I was jerking in the chair each time. The pain was always followed by a little rush of pleasure, and it travelled from my chest through my whole body. I couldn't believe how much reaction he could get from me just by stimulating one tiny cluster of nerves. There were tears of anger and shame gathering at the corners of my eyes, and I was actually grateful that they were hidden in the water still dripping down my face and body.
At last I felt Cruce move his hand to grab hold of the strand of pearls, tugging until the clasp broke and they slithered down my chest to land on the chair between my legs.
"These are quite lovely, Mackayla. Not your usual taste, but I think they suit you,” he said, and I began to wonder what he was going to do with them. I didn’t have to wonder for long.
"I had been planning to leave them on you, as a sort of decoration, but I think you should wear them another way."
I felt him pick up the end of the strand and insert it (easily) into my pussy. I yelped as my soft folds opened for him and I attempted to buck my hips out of the way, but the ropes held me fast and I had to sit there impotently as he slowly, one by one, pushed the strand of pearls inside me. Every so often he would tug on it, pulling a few out, before pushing more in until finally I was stuffed full. Any movement of my hips caused the pearls inside me to shift and press against my soft tissue walls in a very distracting way.
I thought it couldn't get any worse until I saw him pull something small and silver from his pocket; a miniature vibrator, less than an inch long. Under normal circumstances I imagine I wouldn't have even felt it unless it was pressed directly against my clit, but Cruce had other plans.
“You been buying accessories from Chester’s?” I quipped trying to appear, at least outwardly, as if he wasn’t getting to me.
Except he was … getting to me, all of me!
He reached down and began to push the evil little device into my already full pussy, opening me, sliding it between the pearls and making me gasp as the little round jewels stretched me wide. When it was securely nestled in among them, he magicked it on and withdrew his hand.
The sensation was maddening. The faint buzz was transmitted through the pearls as they moved, causing a constantly shifting stimulation that only got worse when I tried to move around. It wasn't enough to do anything more than tease me, but the way it kept changing gave me no chance to get used to it, and I could feel my slit starting to drip with juices again.
I was helpless and still shivering, bound tightly to the chair, my breasts sore and nipples swollen as I helplessly squirmed against the buzzing pearls, and at the mercy of this Unseelie death-by-sex, Prince. A few curls of my wet hair had escaped the ponytail and clung to my face, and I could barely maintain the tenuous grip on my own mind. When he pulled back the hood of my clit and pressed his thumb against it, I could do nothing but moan.
"I was going to let you orgasm, you know. I'd been planning to finish you off after you sucked my fingers, but now I've changed my mind. You don't get to cum, Mackayla Lane, no matter how much you beg. And you will beg. By the time I’m done with you, you'll fuck anything with a cock, just like last time at the church, and you'll enjoy it."
Fuck, no! I heard enough of his words to know that the bastard intended to abuse me more, rape me to get what he wants, or what he thinks he can get from me, and then turn me Pri'ya … again!
I wanted to beg and plead. I knew that I couldn’t become Pri'ya again, it would kill me this time … where the fuck is Barrons!
But begging and pleading would serve no purpose other than to feed Cruce’s over inflated ego and fuel his perverted desires.
He yanked his hand back from my clit, laughing as I unconsciously tried, in the unwitting throes of the craving he had stirred up inside me, to follow it. Cruce stood up looking down at me, a wide grin on his face.
"This is where the real fun starts, Mackayla."
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
CRUCE
“… I want you, I need you,
... but there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you …”
I had loved her once. Or had I? I wanted her for sure, I needed her most definitely … but had I ever loved her? I thought I had when more than once Mackayla had agreed to have my mark inside her mouth.
Momentarily I reflected on the times I had placed it inside her. This touch of lips on lips and the small climactic shudders that my embrace had triggered from deep within the desire able Ms Lane.
Even now the little bitch had a way of making me miscalculate, I thought, examining my finger where she'd bitten down on it. She'd broken the skin … what was inside her; Unseelie? Did that make me a cannibal?
All of her life’s progress to date had been mismanaged. Mackayla Lane should be more than this. More than Barrons’ lap-bitch, more than a dogsbody, albeit a beautiful one, for the Nine.
I had allowed Barrons’ to take her when she first set foot in Dublin, and I had done nothing to stop him from becoming her mentor. Even after we had ‘broken’ her, at the church, taken all of her, every last inch … or was that Mackayla taking every last inch from us … Barrons got the cream from the milk. I knew all about the time he spent fucking-the-Pri'ya-hell from her body!
But that would be the way no more. Today I would get from Mackayla Lane what I needed to break the King, defeat the Queen and merge the Dark with the Light. Then I would make Mackayla Pri-ya once more, and keep her chained deep in the underbelly of my throne room, where she can be permanently ready to satisfy my every whim.
That was what Mackayla Lane deserved and that was what Mackayla Lane was going to get!
The last time she was in that state, naked and exhausted outside the church, we allowed that wild, little runt to rescue her. We had even failed, afterwards, to take her from the Abbey cells. I wouldn't make a mistake like that again.
This time, I was going to make sure Mackayla was completely broken and then some. She wasn't just going to give me the information I wanted, and with it the power to overthrow the Queen, whether the Unseelie King liked it or not, she was going to beg me to wrap her leash around my fist and take her with me wherever I went!
“The Wards …” Quiet words from my lovely captive shook me from my reverie.
“Huh,” my response was uncharacteristically inane.
“The Wards. He has wards around this place. You broke them … how …”
I smiled at the inadequacy of her question.
“I have Dark Magic from the book inside me Ms Lane. Do you really think a simple Ward can hold me, even a Ward from one of the Nine?”
She didn’t answer. There was nothing more to say. Her fate was sealed. But I wanted her to know more for there was more to know.
Moving to where she was bound, seated, I knelt down and leaned into her. Once again, I moved my fingers to her hair and slicked it back away from her face.
“Not only do Wards not work on me, I now have the power to reverse them.”
Upon hearing my words Mackayla looked up at me, her expression seeming just that little bit more pained.
“And so,” I continued, “Once I break a Ward, I can reverse its power and keep out the being that created it in the first place.” I paused a moment to let the meaning of my words sink in, and then added, “So, you know what that means Mackayla?”
Her slow nod confirmed as much.
“So, tell me then. Tell me what that means Ms Lane.”
“Go to hell you bastard!”
I loved that she had fight left inside her. I laughed and provided the explanation for her. “It means that in precisely one hour, when Barrons is planning on returning here to seek you out, he will be able to get inside the building and walk almost right up to us … but then he will be stopped. The unseen force of the beautifully reversed Ward will hold him back but let him see everything that I do to you Mackayla. Do you think he will enjoy what he sees?”
Her cry of anguish was sound of beauty. A melody to my ears. An engorgement to the rigidity of my cock!
“He. Will. Kill. You.” She finally managed to utter in a whisper.
Her words deserved no answer.
Taking a moment out to gather my thoughts, I stood, took off my shirt and leaned against the wall. I saw Mackayla glance up at me. Even now bound and at my mercy, she could not resist my physical charms. I grinned down at her.
“Stop. Now. Turn and walk away!” I furrowed my brow at the attempted assertion intoned into her words, a smile breaking out on my lips. Then the smile became a chuckle which turned quickly into a guffawing laugh.
“You’re trying to control me with Voice Control? Really? Oh Mackayla, and here’s me giving you credit for having a least a modicum of intelligence … but I can see now that you really are stupid.”
Her head drooped. Her last card played. Rainbow Girl was about to be no more.
There was less than one hour before Barrons would return. How could I be so sure? King Roach is how. My insect man … the insidious Roach, and all the little crawly things, that made him whole. He, or was it ‘they’, could get me all of the information I needed, especially from inside the Headquarters of the Nine. It could get everywhere and anywhere. I knew where Barrons’ was and I knew when he would be back.
By then I would make sure the job was done properly so that the bastard could watch helplessly as I debased his girl further before his very eyes! Oh, the pleasure that would give me.
I looked up at my captive. The infamous Mackayla, wanted by a large part of Dublin, including the Guardians, was sitting still and quiet, the only movement from her was a slight heaving of her glorious body.
I could see the gleam of droplets on her skin, both from the sweat on her brow and the mix of water and moisture dripping from her exposed slit. She’d had my little pearl contraption inside her for fifteen minutes now, and she'd long since given up struggling with the ropes or shouting out her insults. Right now Mackayla sat with her head resting on the back of the chair, eyes closed and lip bitten, exhausted but unable to keep herself from squirming as the tiny vibrator refused to give her a moment of rest.
She was an exquisite sight, even tousled like this; finding her naked and dazed had been the highlight of my day so far, although the thought of stripping her clothes from her before rendering her unconscious was a veritably pleasant thought.
Mackayla had the body of a high-class whore, slender and tightly muscled, with firmness in her cheeks and ass that gave her an irresistible appeal, an appeal she used like a weapon when she wanted something. Her breasts were high and rounded and still filled with the firmness of youth, and I'd already learned that they were exquisitely sensitive.
Her skin was taut and smooth, and she'd clearly taken the trouble to get waxed recently. That was almost too bad. I would have enjoyed furthering her humiliation by doing it myself … something for the future maybe?
Time to give Ms Lane something new to think about.
Her head snapped up as I stepped back out of the shadows. She glared at me through the slits that her eyes had become.
“You’re as good as dead Fae!” She spoke with a determined menace that fuelled my desire.
I just smiled back at her and cupped my hand around my balls and the length of my constricted erection, in what was not my most refined responses ever ... which didn’t in any way stop me from enjoying it!
"I’m going to find you, make you harder you’ve ever been before, and then chop of your dick and your balls and feed them to your ass you fucking degenerate monster!” she responded to my appearance with an impressive display of venomous composure, that turned me on even more.
I laughed at her words. You just had to love this girl. Moving to her side I gripped her hair and twisted her head and neck towards me.
"The only thing you're going to do with my balls is beg to cup them while I fuck your mouth," I said pleasantly. "I may just allow it if you're a good whore for me. Want those pearls out of your body?"
She glared at me.
"It's a simple question, Mackayla. You have a string of pearls stuffed quite uncomfortably into your surprisingly tight little pussy. Would you like them removed?"
"Yes," she spat.
"What? Now come on Mackayla, I know Barrons has taught you better than that,” I grinned taunting her, “… what’s the magic word?"
I could see her nostrils widen as she tried to weigh the discomfort I'd put her in against her unwillingness to acknowledge that I held the upper hand.
"Yes …" she said finally, before adding "… please."
I bent down, grabbed the end of the string, and pulled them all out at once. Oh, the joy as she cried out. Humans huh, so fucking delightful!
“As someone once said to me Mackayla Lane, human women are not blinded by passion, they are clarified by it.”
She knew my meaning, as despite her predicament I knew that she felt my actions deep inside her body, between her thighs. Although I couldn’t feel emotion, not in the human way, other than through abstract facsimile, such a response helped to expand my heartfelt pallor, and with it amplify my desires thereby allowing me to sate them more thoroughly.
She couldn't help but squeal at that. I could only imagine the sensation of having the long string of tiny beads zip out of her aching, stretched pussy, the little vibrator and its never-ending battery popping out as well. She hunched over for a second, speechless and panting, her eyes wide as I grinned and wrapped the pearls around my fingers. They were sopping wet.
"Now what am I going to do with these?" I said. "Something of a crass trophy to put on display, maybe I can auction them off at Chester’s ..." I laughed … Chester’s was a place that I wasn’t about to visit and Ms Lane knew that.
"Maybe you should shove them up your petunia," she said sweetly, making me smile at the use of her own personal vernacular once more. How I loved her determination not to give up.
"Are you sure you want to put ideas like that into my head?" I said, and was rewarded when she blanched somewhat. "I think I've got a better idea. Let's stretch your legs a bit."
Walking behind her, I reached up and grabbed one of the ceiling chains, with its heavy-duty clip and pulled it down, then snapped it onto the rope keeping her arms together.
“How handy this room is turning out to be Mackayla. Who would have thought that these heavy-duty pulley-chains could be put to such good use?” With a quick tug, I started the winch winding it slowly upwards.
“Fuck, fuckkkkk Cruce, I don’t have ceiling chains. Why the fuck would I have …”
Mackayla grunted and bent forward cutting her sentence short, her bound wrists rising up behind her and slowly forcing her into a painful strappado position. Her knees were still bound to the chair, but she found her ass followed by the rest of her body lifted up off the seat until she was stretched taut, even more helpless than she had been before.
“You have whatever I decide to put in here Mackayla Lane. I can magic whole lands, mountains, rivers, snow, ice … fire … so how hard do you think it is to create a few heavy-duty winch driven ceiling chains huh?”
Sporting a self-satisfied, smugger-than-smug grin, I stepped in front of her once more to watch her gritting her teeth. I reached down to run my pearl-wrapped fingers back and forth over her dripping pussy.
“Those Pearls …” she said, “We each had a set bought for our sixteenth birthdays. Alina and I. We buried her with hers around her neck …”
I cocked my head, a furrowing of my brow indicating that I wasn’t sure why she was telling me this.
“And now you’re being fucked with yours!” I could tell from her expression that wasn’t the answer she had been expecting, but I wasn’t going to let her inane family ramblings distract me.
"As a matter of formality," I asked, "… are you ready to give me what I want. The Sinsar Dub, the great book from inside the ‘perfectly-shaped-ten-out-of-ten’ that doubles as your body?"
"I'm going to pull all your teeth out, one by one," she hissed, "and then chop of your dick, before I tell you anything!"
Oh, how I loved this girl.
"No, I didn't think so." I unwrapped the pearls and took one end of the string in each hand, then strung them under her raised body, before beginning to slowly saw them back and forth. Each pass dragged the slippery little beads between her cheeks, through her slit and up again, alternately tugging up and down on her already exposed clit hood. I can only imagine the very slight nature of the distraction my motion provided from the agony in her shoulders, but not the kind of diversion that Mackayla wanted. I watched her cheeks redden and her hips squirm; she had even less mobility now than she had sitting down, but that didn't stop her from trying. The pearls were becoming a little more slippery and shiny with each pass.
"Enjoying yourself, Mackayla? This is just a preview of what I've got planned for you..." I slowed my hands and drew them tightly upward, letting each little bump pass over her clit with deliciously slow pressure. I could hear the breath fluttering in her throat as she tried and failed to control it.
"After I break you," I said quietly, leaning in close to her ear, "I think I'm going to give you a new name. Is 'Pearl' a little too on-the-nose? Maybe 'Slut' or 'Pussy’ Nothing very sophisticated, I know, but all very whore-like and we can then consign Mackayla to the dim and distant past where she belongs!"
I drew my head back as she turned quickly and snapped her teeth where my nose had been, snarling. A trapped animal already. Good.
"You must be thirsty by now, considering how much your cunt is dripping," I said. "Would you like to earn a cool drink?"
I could see the sudden flicker of hope and fear in her eyes … I knew damn well that by now she'd be dying for a glass of water. "I can let you get yourself one, you know. I'll even untie your legs if you ask nicely. Can you remember how to ask nicely, Mackayla?"
"Please," she muttered under her breath.
"I couldn't quite hear that," I said, and gave the pearls one quick pull through her slit.
"Please untie my legs," she said, gasping a little.
"Please untie your legs, who?"
"Please untie my legs," she said, with an amazing effort at self-control, "you filthy fucking sadist asshole."
I nodded, then took one slippery pearl and pushed it into her ass.
She let out a grunt of surprise, her eyes flying wide open; she immediately clenched down, but her muscles were trembling with exhaustion, and I just pushed the second pearl harder until I forced it in as well.
Then a third. Then a fourth.
"You should be grateful you get so wet," I said. "This is much easier than I expected." A fifth. Mackayla was fighting to contain a helpless squeal with each one, I could tell, and her chest and face were flushed bright pink with humiliation.
I paused before the sixth one. "I'm going to give you a choice, Mackayla. I don't like how sharp your little teeth are, or how willing you are to use them. I can either keep stuffing these pearls inside you, or I can put something else in your mouth to keep me from getting my fingers bit again. Which would you prefer?"
"M-mouth!" she gasped, almost unable to control the tone of her voice.
I nodded, then added. “Panties? Where do you keep them? Which floor?”
******
"That was easy." I left the pearls dangling like a tail from her ass and pulled a little bit of gauzy fabric from my pocket: the tiny pair of black lace string thong panties I had retrieved from her underwear stash on the fourth floor.
"You’re lucky they’re clean, if only I could find the ones you must have been wearing before you ended up like this ... with me."
I grinned at her, then I spread the lips of her pussy and began to push the panties up inside her. An amazing thing, the vagina. She was already so tight and elastic again that I could barely tell she'd already spent so much time with the pearls stretching her.
I drew the thong back out, now sopping with her own wetness. "Open your mouth, Mackayla," I said.
I could tell that she badly wanted to spit a retort at me, but she obeyed, clearly remembering what the alternative could be.
"Wider," I said, tugging at the pearls until one popped out. Her whole body jerked at the sensation, but she opened her lips a little more. Without saying a word, I pulled out the next small, sticky white bead, and this time she whimpered and opened her mouth so wide her jaw must have creaked.
Careful to watch those snapping teeth, I pushed the panties into her mouth, chuckling a little as she wrinkled her nose at the taste of her own juices.
"Shut," I said, pulling out the third pearl, and she reluctantly obeyed. I drew a small roll of tape from my pocket and sealed her mouth with a black X. The things that I found in my pockets!
"That's better," I smiled, pulling the rest of the pearls out all at once. She bucked hard as I did that, letting out a muffled yelp when I bent to undo her left knee from the chair.
"See what happens when you obey orders like a good girl?" I asked, moving around to untie her right knee. Her mute face showed clear relief; she could stand up straighter now and take some of the pressure off her arms.
Looking around the room I quickly saw what it was I was looking for. Smiling at Mackayla I moved to collect the thin length of metal piping, about a metre long, resting redundantly against the wall and a length of rope that was resting dormant on the wooden side shelf, amongst the scattering of books. It’s truly amazing what you can find in a bookshop … especially when you have the dark magic of the Sinsar Dubh to help you along!
As I slit the rope into smaller lengths Mackayla watched me nervously, but she wasn't going anywhere. I bent and untied one ankle, keeping it tightly in my grip until I could bring it in front of the chair and tie the rope around both the end of the piping and her delicate right ankle. Doing so forced her to balance precariously on her other foot for a moment, and I got to watch her slender form tense and tremble again until I repeated the process on the other ankle, and then straightened, leering down at her hot, bound body.
"I bet you're pretty tired of this room, hmm, Mackayla?" I said, unclipping her wrist rope from the winch but keeping it pulled tightly upward with my own hand.
“So, just let me know when you’re ready to talk to me.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 2
"There Ain’t No Way I’m Ever Gonna Love You"
"There Ain’t No Way I’m Ever Gonna Love You"
CRUCE
“… I want you, I need you,
... but there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you …”
I had loved her once. Or had I? I wanted her for sure, I needed her most definitely … but had I ever loved her? I thought I had when more than once Mackayla had agreed to have my mark inside her mouth.
Momentarily I reflected on the times I had placed it inside her. This touch of lips on lips and the small climactic shudders that my embrace had triggered from deep within the desire able Ms Lane.
Even now the little bitch had a way of making me miscalculate, I thought, examining my finger where she'd bitten down on it. She'd broken the skin … what was inside her; Unseelie? Did that make me a cannibal?
All of her life’s progress to date had been mismanaged. Mackayla Lane should be more than this. More than Barrons’ lap-bitch, more than a dogsbody, albeit a beautiful one, for the Nine.
I had allowed Barrons’ to take her when she first set foot in Dublin, and I had done nothing to stop him from becoming her mentor. Even after we had ‘broken’ her, at the church, taken all of her, every last inch … or was that Mackayla taking every last inch from us … Barrons got the cream from the milk. I knew all about the time he spent fucking-the-Pri'ya-hell from her body!
But that would be the way no more. Today I would get from Mackayla Lane what I needed to break the King, defeat the Queen and merge the Dark with the Light. Then I would make Mackayla Pri-ya once more, and keep her chained deep in the underbelly of my throne room, where she can be permanently ready to satisfy my every whim.
That was what Mackayla Lane deserved and that was what Mackayla Lane was going to get!
The last time she was in that state, naked and exhausted outside the church, we allowed that wild, little runt to rescue her. We had even failed, afterwards, to take her from the Abbey cells. I wouldn't make a mistake like that again.
This time, I was going to make sure Mackayla was completely broken and then some. She wasn't just going to give me the information I wanted, and with it the power to overthrow the Queen, whether the Unseelie King liked it or not, she was going to beg me to wrap her leash around my fist and take her with me wherever I went!
“The Wards …” Quiet words from my lovely captive shook me from my reverie.
“Huh,” my response was uncharacteristically inane.
“The Wards. He has wards around this place. You broke them … how …”
I smiled at the inadequacy of her question.
“I have Dark Magic from the book inside me Ms Lane. Do you really think a simple Ward can hold me, even a Ward from one of the Nine?”
She didn’t answer. There was nothing more to say. Her fate was sealed. But I wanted her to know more for there was more to know.
Moving to where she was bound, seated, I knelt down and leaned into her. Once again, I moved my fingers to her hair and slicked it back away from her face.
“Not only do Wards not work on me, I now have the power to reverse them.”
Upon hearing my words Mackayla looked up at me, her expression seeming just that little bit more pained.
“And so,” I continued, “Once I break a Ward, I can reverse its power and keep out the being that created it in the first place.” I paused a moment to let the meaning of my words sink in, and then added, “So, you know what that means Mackayla?”
Her slow nod confirmed as much.
“So, tell me then. Tell me what that means Ms Lane.”
“Go to hell you bastard!”
I loved that she had fight left inside her. I laughed and provided the explanation for her. “It means that in precisely one hour, when Barrons is planning on returning here to seek you out, he will be able to get inside the building and walk almost right up to us … but then he will be stopped. The unseen force of the beautifully reversed Ward will hold him back but let him see everything that I do to you Mackayla. Do you think he will enjoy what he sees?”
Her cry of anguish was sound of beauty. A melody to my ears. An engorgement to the rigidity of my cock!
“He. Will. Kill. You.” She finally managed to utter in a whisper.
Her words deserved no answer.
Taking a moment out to gather my thoughts, I stood, took off my shirt and leaned against the wall. I saw Mackayla glance up at me. Even now bound and at my mercy, she could not resist my physical charms. I grinned down at her.
“Stop. Now. Turn and walk away!” I furrowed my brow at the attempted assertion intoned into her words, a smile breaking out on my lips. Then the smile became a chuckle which turned quickly into a guffawing laugh.
“You’re trying to control me with Voice Control? Really? Oh Mackayla, and here’s me giving you credit for having a least a modicum of intelligence … but I can see now that you really are stupid.”
Her head drooped. Her last card played. Rainbow Girl was about to be no more.
There was less than one hour before Barrons would return. How could I be so sure? King Roach is how. My insect man … the insidious Roach, and all the little crawly things, that made him whole. He, or was it ‘they’, could get me all of the information I needed, especially from inside the Headquarters of the Nine. It could get everywhere and anywhere. I knew where Barrons’ was and I knew when he would be back.
By then I would make sure the job was done properly so that the bastard could watch helplessly as I debased his girl further before his very eyes! Oh, the pleasure that would give me.
I looked up at my captive. The infamous Mackayla, wanted by a large part of Dublin, including the Guardians, was sitting still and quiet, the only movement from her was a slight heaving of her glorious body.
I could see the gleam of droplets on her skin, both from the sweat on her brow and the mix of water and moisture dripping from her exposed slit. She’d had my little pearl contraption inside her for fifteen minutes now, and she'd long since given up struggling with the ropes or shouting out her insults. Right now Mackayla sat with her head resting on the back of the chair, eyes closed and lip bitten, exhausted but unable to keep herself from squirming as the tiny vibrator refused to give her a moment of rest.
She was an exquisite sight, even tousled like this; finding her naked and dazed had been the highlight of my day so far, although the thought of stripping her clothes from her before rendering her unconscious was a veritably pleasant thought.
Mackayla had the body of a high-class whore, slender and tightly muscled, with firmness in her cheeks and ass that gave her an irresistible appeal, an appeal she used like a weapon when she wanted something. Her breasts were high and rounded and still filled with the firmness of youth, and I'd already learned that they were exquisitely sensitive.
Her skin was taut and smooth, and she'd clearly taken the trouble to get waxed recently. That was almost too bad. I would have enjoyed furthering her humiliation by doing it myself … something for the future maybe?
Time to give Ms Lane something new to think about.
Her head snapped up as I stepped back out of the shadows. She glared at me through the slits that her eyes had become.
“You’re as good as dead Fae!” She spoke with a determined menace that fuelled my desire.
I just smiled back at her and cupped my hand around my balls and the length of my constricted erection, in what was not my most refined responses ever ... which didn’t in any way stop me from enjoying it!
"I’m going to find you, make you harder you’ve ever been before, and then chop of your dick and your balls and feed them to your ass you fucking degenerate monster!” she responded to my appearance with an impressive display of venomous composure, that turned me on even more.
I laughed at her words. You just had to love this girl. Moving to her side I gripped her hair and twisted her head and neck towards me.
"The only thing you're going to do with my balls is beg to cup them while I fuck your mouth," I said pleasantly. "I may just allow it if you're a good whore for me. Want those pearls out of your body?"
She glared at me.
"It's a simple question, Mackayla. You have a string of pearls stuffed quite uncomfortably into your surprisingly tight little pussy. Would you like them removed?"
"Yes," she spat.
"What? Now come on Mackayla, I know Barrons has taught you better than that,” I grinned taunting her, “… what’s the magic word?"
I could see her nostrils widen as she tried to weigh the discomfort I'd put her in against her unwillingness to acknowledge that I held the upper hand.
"Yes …" she said finally, before adding "… please."
I bent down, grabbed the end of the string, and pulled them all out at once. Oh, the joy as she cried out. Humans huh, so fucking delightful!
“As someone once said to me Mackayla Lane, human women are not blinded by passion, they are clarified by it.”
She knew my meaning, as despite her predicament I knew that she felt my actions deep inside her body, between her thighs. Although I couldn’t feel emotion, not in the human way, other than through abstract facsimile, such a response helped to expand my heartfelt pallor, and with it amplify my desires thereby allowing me to sate them more thoroughly.
She couldn't help but squeal at that. I could only imagine the sensation of having the long string of tiny beads zip out of her aching, stretched pussy, the little vibrator and its never-ending battery popping out as well. She hunched over for a second, speechless and panting, her eyes wide as I grinned and wrapped the pearls around my fingers. They were sopping wet.
"Now what am I going to do with these?" I said. "Something of a crass trophy to put on display, maybe I can auction them off at Chester’s ..." I laughed … Chester’s was a place that I wasn’t about to visit and Ms Lane knew that.
"Maybe you should shove them up your petunia," she said sweetly, making me smile at the use of her own personal vernacular once more. How I loved her determination not to give up.
"Are you sure you want to put ideas like that into my head?" I said, and was rewarded when she blanched somewhat. "I think I've got a better idea. Let's stretch your legs a bit."
Walking behind her, I reached up and grabbed one of the ceiling chains, with its heavy-duty clip and pulled it down, then snapped it onto the rope keeping her arms together.
“How handy this room is turning out to be Mackayla. Who would have thought that these heavy-duty pulley-chains could be put to such good use?” With a quick tug, I started the winch winding it slowly upwards.
“Fuck, fuckkkkk Cruce, I don’t have ceiling chains. Why the fuck would I have …”
Mackayla grunted and bent forward cutting her sentence short, her bound wrists rising up behind her and slowly forcing her into a painful strappado position. Her knees were still bound to the chair, but she found her ass followed by the rest of her body lifted up off the seat until she was stretched taut, even more helpless than she had been before.
“You have whatever I decide to put in here Mackayla Lane. I can magic whole lands, mountains, rivers, snow, ice … fire … so how hard do you think it is to create a few heavy-duty winch driven ceiling chains huh?”
Sporting a self-satisfied, smugger-than-smug grin, I stepped in front of her once more to watch her gritting her teeth. I reached down to run my pearl-wrapped fingers back and forth over her dripping pussy.
“Those Pearls …” she said, “We each had a set bought for our sixteenth birthdays. Alina and I. We buried her with hers around her neck …”
I cocked my head, a furrowing of my brow indicating that I wasn’t sure why she was telling me this.
“And now you’re being fucked with yours!” I could tell from her expression that wasn’t the answer she had been expecting, but I wasn’t going to let her inane family ramblings distract me.
"As a matter of formality," I asked, "… are you ready to give me what I want. The Sinsar Dub, the great book from inside the ‘perfectly-shaped-ten-out-of-ten’ that doubles as your body?"
"I'm going to pull all your teeth out, one by one," she hissed, "and then chop of your dick, before I tell you anything!"
Oh, how I loved this girl.
"No, I didn't think so." I unwrapped the pearls and took one end of the string in each hand, then strung them under her raised body, before beginning to slowly saw them back and forth. Each pass dragged the slippery little beads between her cheeks, through her slit and up again, alternately tugging up and down on her already exposed clit hood. I can only imagine the very slight nature of the distraction my motion provided from the agony in her shoulders, but not the kind of diversion that Mackayla wanted. I watched her cheeks redden and her hips squirm; she had even less mobility now than she had sitting down, but that didn't stop her from trying. The pearls were becoming a little more slippery and shiny with each pass.
"Enjoying yourself, Mackayla? This is just a preview of what I've got planned for you..." I slowed my hands and drew them tightly upward, letting each little bump pass over her clit with deliciously slow pressure. I could hear the breath fluttering in her throat as she tried and failed to control it.
"After I break you," I said quietly, leaning in close to her ear, "I think I'm going to give you a new name. Is 'Pearl' a little too on-the-nose? Maybe 'Slut' or 'Pussy’ Nothing very sophisticated, I know, but all very whore-like and we can then consign Mackayla to the dim and distant past where she belongs!"
I drew my head back as she turned quickly and snapped her teeth where my nose had been, snarling. A trapped animal already. Good.
"You must be thirsty by now, considering how much your cunt is dripping," I said. "Would you like to earn a cool drink?"
I could see the sudden flicker of hope and fear in her eyes … I knew damn well that by now she'd be dying for a glass of water. "I can let you get yourself one, you know. I'll even untie your legs if you ask nicely. Can you remember how to ask nicely, Mackayla?"
"Please," she muttered under her breath.
"I couldn't quite hear that," I said, and gave the pearls one quick pull through her slit.
"Please untie my legs," she said, gasping a little.
"Please untie your legs, who?"
"Please untie my legs," she said, with an amazing effort at self-control, "you filthy fucking sadist asshole."
I nodded, then took one slippery pearl and pushed it into her ass.
She let out a grunt of surprise, her eyes flying wide open; she immediately clenched down, but her muscles were trembling with exhaustion, and I just pushed the second pearl harder until I forced it in as well.
Then a third. Then a fourth.
"You should be grateful you get so wet," I said. "This is much easier than I expected." A fifth. Mackayla was fighting to contain a helpless squeal with each one, I could tell, and her chest and face were flushed bright pink with humiliation.
I paused before the sixth one. "I'm going to give you a choice, Mackayla. I don't like how sharp your little teeth are, or how willing you are to use them. I can either keep stuffing these pearls inside you, or I can put something else in your mouth to keep me from getting my fingers bit again. Which would you prefer?"
"M-mouth!" she gasped, almost unable to control the tone of her voice.
I nodded, then added. “Panties? Where do you keep them? Which floor?”
******
"That was easy." I left the pearls dangling like a tail from her ass and pulled a little bit of gauzy fabric from my pocket: the tiny pair of black lace string thong panties I had retrieved from her underwear stash on the fourth floor.
"You’re lucky they’re clean, if only I could find the ones you must have been wearing before you ended up like this ... with me."
I grinned at her, then I spread the lips of her pussy and began to push the panties up inside her. An amazing thing, the vagina. She was already so tight and elastic again that I could barely tell she'd already spent so much time with the pearls stretching her.
I drew the thong back out, now sopping with her own wetness. "Open your mouth, Mackayla," I said.
I could tell that she badly wanted to spit a retort at me, but she obeyed, clearly remembering what the alternative could be.
"Wider," I said, tugging at the pearls until one popped out. Her whole body jerked at the sensation, but she opened her lips a little more. Without saying a word, I pulled out the next small, sticky white bead, and this time she whimpered and opened her mouth so wide her jaw must have creaked.
Careful to watch those snapping teeth, I pushed the panties into her mouth, chuckling a little as she wrinkled her nose at the taste of her own juices.
"Shut," I said, pulling out the third pearl, and she reluctantly obeyed. I drew a small roll of tape from my pocket and sealed her mouth with a black X. The things that I found in my pockets!
"That's better," I smiled, pulling the rest of the pearls out all at once. She bucked hard as I did that, letting out a muffled yelp when I bent to undo her left knee from the chair.
"See what happens when you obey orders like a good girl?" I asked, moving around to untie her right knee. Her mute face showed clear relief; she could stand up straighter now and take some of the pressure off her arms.
Looking around the room I quickly saw what it was I was looking for. Smiling at Mackayla I moved to collect the thin length of metal piping, about a metre long, resting redundantly against the wall and a length of rope that was resting dormant on the wooden side shelf, amongst the scattering of books. It’s truly amazing what you can find in a bookshop … especially when you have the dark magic of the Sinsar Dubh to help you along!
As I slit the rope into smaller lengths Mackayla watched me nervously, but she wasn't going anywhere. I bent and untied one ankle, keeping it tightly in my grip until I could bring it in front of the chair and tie the rope around both the end of the piping and her delicate right ankle. Doing so forced her to balance precariously on her other foot for a moment, and I got to watch her slender form tense and tremble again until I repeated the process on the other ankle, and then straightened, leering down at her hot, bound body.
"I bet you're pretty tired of this room, hmm, Mackayla?" I said, unclipping her wrist rope from the winch but keeping it pulled tightly upward with my own hand.
“So, just let me know when you’re ready to talk to me.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Attachments
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
MAC
“… Gimme Some Rope, I’m Coming…
… Gimme Some Rope, I’m Hanging On You …”
He wants the book from me. But even if I wanted to give him what he’s asking for, which I don’t, I’m not sure that I could. Where is the Sinsar Dubh? Is it physically inside me, or does it live in my essence, floating around my bloodstream, infiltrating my DNA …
It had been ‘downloaded’ into my mother when she was carrying me and then, onwards, into me, into my foetus.
So was the book in me, or was it a part of me? I knew that I could sense the book’s presence from within, especially when I searched the pool of water inside my body that delivered clarity and calmness to my otherwise manic life.
Cruce has already absorbed the knowledge from the Book, whereas I think I may have been absorbed by it. He knows the First Language. He must have read the book as such, passed the spells and magic up his arms and into his body. That’s not what happened to me.
So, I knew it was there, in me, somewhere, yet I cannot give Cruce the book under any circumstances, it isn’t in my gift, which made my outlook for being here, the naked captive of this heinous monster, even more bleak.
Does he think getting the book will enable him to sing the Song of Making? Heal the earth and kill all of his competition? Is that how he intends to become King?
Right now, whatever thoughts I have and whatever intent they lead to is immaterial, because Cruce has me tape gagged, and obviously no interest in anything I have to say. It is evidently clear what is driving his actions at this moment … lust … desire … rapacious need … for me … for my body …
I looked at him and saw in his eyes there was fear and hate, and when he spoke, he spoke with knives … these words that I recalled from somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where, floated through my mind!
Cruce was standing, arms folded, leaning against a pillar, shirt off, biceps enlarged and gleaming, his malevolent presence masked with the most beautiful glamour imaginable.
I needed to look away, but I couldn’t. My body was betraying was me and it was being ably supported by my mind. I wanted him, yet I didn’t … I couldn’t … I wouldn’t …
And then, in the eyes of my mind I was outside the church again on that awful day. Dragged down the steps; naked, vulnerable, used …
Not again. Please. Not again.
I tried to reduce myself to this unfeeling core, tried to find a happy place that I could hide in. I had tried that once before … when I was raped by the Unseelie Princes. I had failed then and had endured with tortuous lucidity everything they had done to me, until my transformation to Pri-ya had commenced.
They’d made me feel powerless, helpless, a useless piece of trash to be desecrated and crushed beneath their heel when they were finished amusing themselves with me. As if I were a plastic Barbie doll to be violated and broken and tossed away.
Cruce was a part of that!
And, as I’d laid there in the gutter, seeing myself through their eyes, as the complete irrelevance they’d considered me, I’d hungered to be the predator they were. The one standing. The one destroying. I’d thought they’d destroyed me. They hadn’t. They’d made me stronger. But now Cruce, damn him, was about to take that away from me.
‘No, no, no …’ a deep part of me screamed. The ruin left by the Guardians. Blood smeared across the floor from my wounds. The atmosphere of palpable desolation left me nauseous. '
I felt awkward and stiff, my muscles still protesting against everything he'd done to me. I stumbled as he pulled my body higher by virtue of his own reach, and the hold on the chain connecting my wrists. His strong grip on my bound arms the only thing keeping me upright, and for the first time I was able to look around the room. The mess that had been left by the Guardians. The blood on the floor where I had removed the bullets. The desolation that was palpable in the air given my current situation … I felt nauseous.
I was freed from the chair. He let my wrists go and my arms fell behind my back, my wrists still hard tied.
But added to that my ankles were now secured, separated and held wide by a length of piping acting as a spreader. My positioned had changed but my helplessness continued, in fact it was compounded.
What the fuck? I had to look twice.
Two wooden posts were standing about a metre from the wall to my left, and their length was from floor to ceiling and they were maybe nine feet apart. They were self-standing and upright. What was concerning me the most however was the way that each post connected to the other via a pair of taut ropes. I didn’t have posts in the shop at all … anywhere, especially wooden ones such as these. More manifestations from this monster? But why?
I assumed that I was about to find out …
The upper rope hung just above what would be my head height while the lower one was at hip-height and dotted with large, randomly spaced knots. Each had been stretched to capacity so there was no sag in the lines, and I found myself baffled as to what their purpose was.
“You’re looking at the posts right, Mackayla? Well they’re another gift from me, the Prince that never stops giving.” Cruce took an annoying moment to laugh at his own so-called, mirth.
I recalled seeing posts just like these in an old dungeon, in the Unseelie prison, back in the day, before it closed … “ but I guess you’re not really interested in what I have to give, are you my dear Mackayla?”
He was right there, I wasn’t, but I was concerned about the reason he had them rigged up in the way that he had.
"Oh, the ropes came with the knots already tied Mac, so please think of this as a game ... only one that holds far more fun for me, and significantly less fun for you." Cruce smirked, his expression one of gleeful anticipation.
I glared back, irritated by his cryptic explanation. I wanted to snap something sarcastic about his "fun" in response, but thinking about doing that only reminded me of the taste of my own saliva soaked panties in my mouth, and the tape sealing my lips.
He grinned and led me, a firm hand on my bare shoulder, to the nearest post. Using the small amount of strength that I had left I struggled against him somewhat, mostly for show though, as I knew he had the upper hand.
When he smacked my bare ass, hard and said in the most patronising tone imaginable, "Behave Mackayla,” I regretted my struggle.
I felt my face heat up, furious at him, and when he grabbed both my nipples in his hands and twisted hard, my fury grew even more. The tirade that came out as a long, muffled moan stayed totally inside my head. My back arched and I was raised onto my toes to try to relieve the pressure on my poor nipples.
He grinned at me, using his grip to pull me closer to the post, and a small wooden block on the floor next to it that I hadn't noticed before. The natural purpose for the block completely evaded me, but it was clear that Cruce had his own intended use for it.
When he stood before me, I gazed straight ahead in my attempts to look ‘through’ him. But try as I might, my damn body betrayed me. His naked, bare chest … his beautiful face and long hair that flowed like a seductive river onto his broad shoulders … shoulders that spanned his seven-foot gorgeous body …
Over the course of my many encounters with Cruce, I’d attempted repeatedly to describe him in my journal, as V’lane, writing down a one-dimensional, shallow description of how he looked.
I’d used words like: terrifyingly beautiful, godlike, possessing inhuman sexuality, deadly eroticism. I’d called him lethal; I’d called him irresistible. I’d cursed him. I’d lusted for him, even writhed beneath him. I’d called his eyes windows to a shining Heaven and I’d called them gates to Hell.
I’d filled entries with scribblings that later made no sense to me, comprised of columns of antonyms: angelic, devilish; creator, destroyer; fire, ice; sex, death.
I’d made a list of colours, every shimmering shade of black, raven, blue, and ice known to man. I’d written of oils and spices, scents from childhood, scents from dreams. I’d indulged in lengthy thesaurus-like entries, trying to capture the sensory overload that was Cruce in either incarnation.
But I’d failed at every turn to truly capture him. Because I’d been describing his body. Not his essence. If I was Good and he was Evil … or perhaps if I was Light and he was Dark …
Fuck! Mac! Stop! He IS evil … he IS the Dark! This guy has raped you once … he is about to do so again … unless …
Unless what … the fuck … Mac?
My own little subconscious, judgemental, petite-framed Mini-Mac who lived inside my head was already dishing out the judgement calls!
There had to be a way to stop this … but what the fuck was it, and if I knew what it was how the motherfuckinghell could I mobilise it?
"Put your foot up on the block and straddle the rope." He let go of one of my nipples long enough to reach down and undo one of my ankles from the metal piping that was currently holding my legs spread apart.
I balked, fear and indignation holding me back. Cruce's eyes taunted me, as he twisted again the swollen teat he still gripped. I placed my foot on the block, desperate to avoid more pain being inflicted on my swollen, tender buds.
I swung my free leg over the rope, landing awkwardly on the other side, one leg still on the block until he kicked it out from under me. I yelped as he did so, my full weight coming down on the rope between my legs until I went to my tiptoes again.
Swiftly, I attempted to move my feet together However, he had tied my ankle to the bar again, keeping them wide apart. Cruce reached down and pinched my labia. I squirmed, detecting the feel of the fibrous braid, spreading them so the rope slid up between them and pressed against my clit. I squirmed, disliking the feel of the rough braid on my sensitive skin, and he smacked my ass again.
"Hold still. I know how much you love this kind of attention Mackayla, but that's no reason to hump my fingers,” he said, grinning at me.
I just clenched my teeth and stared stonily ahead as he finished adjusting things to his liking.
He pulled a tube of lubricant from his pocket and proceeded to smear it liberally around my pussy and ass before coating the first few inches of rope as well. I was beginning to get a sense of what was expected of me here, and I didn't like it at all. I stared down the length of the rope, at least three metres of it, and gulped when I remembered the knots.
"That's right, Mackayla," Cruce taunted, "you're going to walk this rope for me. And just to make very sure you don't try anything clever ... I have this …" He pulled a chain from his pocket and let it dangle provocatively in front of my face. It was clear what the chain was, and where it was intended to go!
The steel links were heavy duty, much bigger than a small delicate bondage accessory, and he had fastened small alligator clips to each end, and fuck, they looked vicious. Cruce began to prise open one of the torturous ends to reveal the many small serrated teeth. I groaned from under the gag.
“Nipple clamps Mackayla, I put so much thought and loving care into sifting them here.” The monster laughed as he snapped one of the ends onto my already sore left nipple, making me cry out in pain, the muffled sound intensifying my distress.
“Nghhhhhmmmphhhh!” It was the only sound I could manage.
He smiled at the unintelligible nature of my protests and the pain as the teeth bit into me was immense. But my agony was about to compounded, and I groaned when he looped the chain over the upper rope and then tugged downwards, clamping my right nipple as well. It was only just long enough to reach, and even on my tiptoes my breasts were tugged painfully upwards.
There was no way to get off the ropes but I could dig my heels in and refuse to move. However, to my dismay, Cruce slowly unwound the leather belt from his jeans.
"You didn't think I'd count on your accommodating nature to get you walking, did you?" he laughed, and swung the belt ...
I squealed into the gag, stumbled forward a step and snorted in a desperate breath.
Pain fought with desire inside me. My nipples stretched and bled, as the chain snagged on the rope. My breasts bounced and my feet hurt as I staggered along.
But … fuck … my body betrayed me; my pussy moistened as the sliding rope aroused me. It actually felt good and I began to think I could maintain a modicum of control, if only I could manage the pain. I was not going to give him...
"Oh, that's right, I almost forgot," he murmured, leaning close to my ear in that infuriating way. "Make it to the end of the rope and there's a nice, cool drink of water waiting for you."
I swallowed my mouth was so dry, and I closed my eyes as Cruce wound up for another strike at my ass. I detested him more than ever, I inched forward despite the painful throbbing in my feet and calves.
If I could get through it quickly, so much the better. I wanted that drink and maybe I could trick him - draw him into some way of thinking I would give him the book. That would at least give me some time to think. Yes, some wiggle room is what I needed.
I kept walking, each step making my pussy more and more wet, until I came to the first knot. I hesitated, then remembered Cruce's belt. Easing forward, I moaned, as the rough knot caressed my sensitive nub. I steadied myself and then took another step, and gasped as the knot dragged through my pussy and pressed against my asshole, but I kept moving.
I kept walking, enjoying the slide of the rope, the painful, almost pleasurable pull on my nipples, and wondered if perhaps Cruce had miscalculated. Why had he said this wasn't going to be fun for me?
I turned to look at him, expecting to see disappointment on his face, but instead I saw only anticipation, his gaze focused not on me but on the next knot in the rope. I turned back to look at it and noticed that this one looked damp and glistening, not dry like the previous one. I slowed my steps as I reached it, hesitant suddenly, and Cruce raised his belt again.
I grunted in a clearly annoyed fashion, and he laughed. "Trying to say I don't need to give you any more encouragement? What if I just like watching your pert little ass bounce when I whip it Mackayla, huh?" he asked, grinning as I took the step that would bring me to the next knot.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 2
"Gimme Some Rope, I’m Cummin’"
"Gimme Some Rope, I’m Cummin’"
MAC
“… Gimme Some Rope, I’m Coming…
… Gimme Some Rope, I’m Hanging On You …”
He wants the book from me. But even if I wanted to give him what he’s asking for, which I don’t, I’m not sure that I could. Where is the Sinsar Dubh? Is it physically inside me, or does it live in my essence, floating around my bloodstream, infiltrating my DNA …
It had been ‘downloaded’ into my mother when she was carrying me and then, onwards, into me, into my foetus.
So was the book in me, or was it a part of me? I knew that I could sense the book’s presence from within, especially when I searched the pool of water inside my body that delivered clarity and calmness to my otherwise manic life.
Cruce has already absorbed the knowledge from the Book, whereas I think I may have been absorbed by it. He knows the First Language. He must have read the book as such, passed the spells and magic up his arms and into his body. That’s not what happened to me.
So, I knew it was there, in me, somewhere, yet I cannot give Cruce the book under any circumstances, it isn’t in my gift, which made my outlook for being here, the naked captive of this heinous monster, even more bleak.
Does he think getting the book will enable him to sing the Song of Making? Heal the earth and kill all of his competition? Is that how he intends to become King?
Right now, whatever thoughts I have and whatever intent they lead to is immaterial, because Cruce has me tape gagged, and obviously no interest in anything I have to say. It is evidently clear what is driving his actions at this moment … lust … desire … rapacious need … for me … for my body …
I looked at him and saw in his eyes there was fear and hate, and when he spoke, he spoke with knives … these words that I recalled from somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where, floated through my mind!
Cruce was standing, arms folded, leaning against a pillar, shirt off, biceps enlarged and gleaming, his malevolent presence masked with the most beautiful glamour imaginable.
I needed to look away, but I couldn’t. My body was betraying was me and it was being ably supported by my mind. I wanted him, yet I didn’t … I couldn’t … I wouldn’t …
And then, in the eyes of my mind I was outside the church again on that awful day. Dragged down the steps; naked, vulnerable, used …
Not again. Please. Not again.
I tried to reduce myself to this unfeeling core, tried to find a happy place that I could hide in. I had tried that once before … when I was raped by the Unseelie Princes. I had failed then and had endured with tortuous lucidity everything they had done to me, until my transformation to Pri-ya had commenced.
They’d made me feel powerless, helpless, a useless piece of trash to be desecrated and crushed beneath their heel when they were finished amusing themselves with me. As if I were a plastic Barbie doll to be violated and broken and tossed away.
Cruce was a part of that!
And, as I’d laid there in the gutter, seeing myself through their eyes, as the complete irrelevance they’d considered me, I’d hungered to be the predator they were. The one standing. The one destroying. I’d thought they’d destroyed me. They hadn’t. They’d made me stronger. But now Cruce, damn him, was about to take that away from me.
‘No, no, no …’ a deep part of me screamed. The ruin left by the Guardians. Blood smeared across the floor from my wounds. The atmosphere of palpable desolation left me nauseous. '
I felt awkward and stiff, my muscles still protesting against everything he'd done to me. I stumbled as he pulled my body higher by virtue of his own reach, and the hold on the chain connecting my wrists. His strong grip on my bound arms the only thing keeping me upright, and for the first time I was able to look around the room. The mess that had been left by the Guardians. The blood on the floor where I had removed the bullets. The desolation that was palpable in the air given my current situation … I felt nauseous.
I was freed from the chair. He let my wrists go and my arms fell behind my back, my wrists still hard tied.
But added to that my ankles were now secured, separated and held wide by a length of piping acting as a spreader. My positioned had changed but my helplessness continued, in fact it was compounded.
What the fuck? I had to look twice.
Two wooden posts were standing about a metre from the wall to my left, and their length was from floor to ceiling and they were maybe nine feet apart. They were self-standing and upright. What was concerning me the most however was the way that each post connected to the other via a pair of taut ropes. I didn’t have posts in the shop at all … anywhere, especially wooden ones such as these. More manifestations from this monster? But why?
I assumed that I was about to find out …
The upper rope hung just above what would be my head height while the lower one was at hip-height and dotted with large, randomly spaced knots. Each had been stretched to capacity so there was no sag in the lines, and I found myself baffled as to what their purpose was.
“You’re looking at the posts right, Mackayla? Well they’re another gift from me, the Prince that never stops giving.” Cruce took an annoying moment to laugh at his own so-called, mirth.
I recalled seeing posts just like these in an old dungeon, in the Unseelie prison, back in the day, before it closed … “ but I guess you’re not really interested in what I have to give, are you my dear Mackayla?”
He was right there, I wasn’t, but I was concerned about the reason he had them rigged up in the way that he had.
"Oh, the ropes came with the knots already tied Mac, so please think of this as a game ... only one that holds far more fun for me, and significantly less fun for you." Cruce smirked, his expression one of gleeful anticipation.
I glared back, irritated by his cryptic explanation. I wanted to snap something sarcastic about his "fun" in response, but thinking about doing that only reminded me of the taste of my own saliva soaked panties in my mouth, and the tape sealing my lips.
He grinned and led me, a firm hand on my bare shoulder, to the nearest post. Using the small amount of strength that I had left I struggled against him somewhat, mostly for show though, as I knew he had the upper hand.
When he smacked my bare ass, hard and said in the most patronising tone imaginable, "Behave Mackayla,” I regretted my struggle.
I felt my face heat up, furious at him, and when he grabbed both my nipples in his hands and twisted hard, my fury grew even more. The tirade that came out as a long, muffled moan stayed totally inside my head. My back arched and I was raised onto my toes to try to relieve the pressure on my poor nipples.
He grinned at me, using his grip to pull me closer to the post, and a small wooden block on the floor next to it that I hadn't noticed before. The natural purpose for the block completely evaded me, but it was clear that Cruce had his own intended use for it.
When he stood before me, I gazed straight ahead in my attempts to look ‘through’ him. But try as I might, my damn body betrayed me. His naked, bare chest … his beautiful face and long hair that flowed like a seductive river onto his broad shoulders … shoulders that spanned his seven-foot gorgeous body …
Over the course of my many encounters with Cruce, I’d attempted repeatedly to describe him in my journal, as V’lane, writing down a one-dimensional, shallow description of how he looked.
I’d used words like: terrifyingly beautiful, godlike, possessing inhuman sexuality, deadly eroticism. I’d called him lethal; I’d called him irresistible. I’d cursed him. I’d lusted for him, even writhed beneath him. I’d called his eyes windows to a shining Heaven and I’d called them gates to Hell.
I’d filled entries with scribblings that later made no sense to me, comprised of columns of antonyms: angelic, devilish; creator, destroyer; fire, ice; sex, death.
I’d made a list of colours, every shimmering shade of black, raven, blue, and ice known to man. I’d written of oils and spices, scents from childhood, scents from dreams. I’d indulged in lengthy thesaurus-like entries, trying to capture the sensory overload that was Cruce in either incarnation.
But I’d failed at every turn to truly capture him. Because I’d been describing his body. Not his essence. If I was Good and he was Evil … or perhaps if I was Light and he was Dark …
Fuck! Mac! Stop! He IS evil … he IS the Dark! This guy has raped you once … he is about to do so again … unless …
Unless what … the fuck … Mac?
My own little subconscious, judgemental, petite-framed Mini-Mac who lived inside my head was already dishing out the judgement calls!
There had to be a way to stop this … but what the fuck was it, and if I knew what it was how the motherfuckinghell could I mobilise it?
"Put your foot up on the block and straddle the rope." He let go of one of my nipples long enough to reach down and undo one of my ankles from the metal piping that was currently holding my legs spread apart.
I balked, fear and indignation holding me back. Cruce's eyes taunted me, as he twisted again the swollen teat he still gripped. I placed my foot on the block, desperate to avoid more pain being inflicted on my swollen, tender buds.
I swung my free leg over the rope, landing awkwardly on the other side, one leg still on the block until he kicked it out from under me. I yelped as he did so, my full weight coming down on the rope between my legs until I went to my tiptoes again.
Swiftly, I attempted to move my feet together However, he had tied my ankle to the bar again, keeping them wide apart. Cruce reached down and pinched my labia. I squirmed, detecting the feel of the fibrous braid, spreading them so the rope slid up between them and pressed against my clit. I squirmed, disliking the feel of the rough braid on my sensitive skin, and he smacked my ass again.
"Hold still. I know how much you love this kind of attention Mackayla, but that's no reason to hump my fingers,” he said, grinning at me.
I just clenched my teeth and stared stonily ahead as he finished adjusting things to his liking.
He pulled a tube of lubricant from his pocket and proceeded to smear it liberally around my pussy and ass before coating the first few inches of rope as well. I was beginning to get a sense of what was expected of me here, and I didn't like it at all. I stared down the length of the rope, at least three metres of it, and gulped when I remembered the knots.
"That's right, Mackayla," Cruce taunted, "you're going to walk this rope for me. And just to make very sure you don't try anything clever ... I have this …" He pulled a chain from his pocket and let it dangle provocatively in front of my face. It was clear what the chain was, and where it was intended to go!
The steel links were heavy duty, much bigger than a small delicate bondage accessory, and he had fastened small alligator clips to each end, and fuck, they looked vicious. Cruce began to prise open one of the torturous ends to reveal the many small serrated teeth. I groaned from under the gag.
“Nipple clamps Mackayla, I put so much thought and loving care into sifting them here.” The monster laughed as he snapped one of the ends onto my already sore left nipple, making me cry out in pain, the muffled sound intensifying my distress.
“Nghhhhhmmmphhhh!” It was the only sound I could manage.
He smiled at the unintelligible nature of my protests and the pain as the teeth bit into me was immense. But my agony was about to compounded, and I groaned when he looped the chain over the upper rope and then tugged downwards, clamping my right nipple as well. It was only just long enough to reach, and even on my tiptoes my breasts were tugged painfully upwards.
There was no way to get off the ropes but I could dig my heels in and refuse to move. However, to my dismay, Cruce slowly unwound the leather belt from his jeans.
"You didn't think I'd count on your accommodating nature to get you walking, did you?" he laughed, and swung the belt ...
I squealed into the gag, stumbled forward a step and snorted in a desperate breath.
Pain fought with desire inside me. My nipples stretched and bled, as the chain snagged on the rope. My breasts bounced and my feet hurt as I staggered along.
But … fuck … my body betrayed me; my pussy moistened as the sliding rope aroused me. It actually felt good and I began to think I could maintain a modicum of control, if only I could manage the pain. I was not going to give him...
"Oh, that's right, I almost forgot," he murmured, leaning close to my ear in that infuriating way. "Make it to the end of the rope and there's a nice, cool drink of water waiting for you."
I swallowed my mouth was so dry, and I closed my eyes as Cruce wound up for another strike at my ass. I detested him more than ever, I inched forward despite the painful throbbing in my feet and calves.
If I could get through it quickly, so much the better. I wanted that drink and maybe I could trick him - draw him into some way of thinking I would give him the book. That would at least give me some time to think. Yes, some wiggle room is what I needed.
I kept walking, each step making my pussy more and more wet, until I came to the first knot. I hesitated, then remembered Cruce's belt. Easing forward, I moaned, as the rough knot caressed my sensitive nub. I steadied myself and then took another step, and gasped as the knot dragged through my pussy and pressed against my asshole, but I kept moving.
I kept walking, enjoying the slide of the rope, the painful, almost pleasurable pull on my nipples, and wondered if perhaps Cruce had miscalculated. Why had he said this wasn't going to be fun for me?
I turned to look at him, expecting to see disappointment on his face, but instead I saw only anticipation, his gaze focused not on me but on the next knot in the rope. I turned back to look at it and noticed that this one looked damp and glistening, not dry like the previous one. I slowed my steps as I reached it, hesitant suddenly, and Cruce raised his belt again.
I grunted in a clearly annoyed fashion, and he laughed. "Trying to say I don't need to give you any more encouragement? What if I just like watching your pert little ass bounce when I whip it Mackayla, huh?" he asked, grinning as I took the step that would bring me to the next knot.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Attachments
Last edited:
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
MAC
“… I'll take you by the hand,
And I'll show you a world that you can understand…”
I felt the same little spark of pleasure as it slid across my clit and into my pussy, and paused a moment, waiting for something terrible to happen.
There was nothing at first and I again wondered what had made Cruce look so happy - and then a tingle began in my clit. I twitched slightly, taking another step forward so the knot dragged past my ass, and then twitched again, the tingle becoming more of an itch. Within moments my clit was on fire, my pussy beginning to itch and my ass was tingling unbearably.
"Mmmnnnghh?" I groaned, taking another step, hoping the texture of the rope would ease the burning sensation. It didn't. Cruce burst out laughing, looking very pleased with himself, and pulled a small tube of Tchai-Ovna spice from the pocket of his jacket as it lay over the back of a chair.
“Faeries blood, Mackayla. The sap from the Tchai-Ovna plant, the hottest spice known to Faery-kind …”
Fuck! I knew what it was … What I hadn’t known is how much it could burn a clitoris, never having been stupid enough to smear it onto myself.
“This will make things more interesting. You were looking far too complacent a moment ago, This is so much fun. You see how creative I can be Mackayla? Imagine what experiences I could have given you, if you had chosen me not Barrons. Yet, I can make it even better.”
Tears of anger and pain leaked from the corner of my eyes. Understanding dawned, Cruce was using his desire for the book to justify his actions. Yet, it was his own pain at being rejected, the humiliation he felt that a mere human woman would choose another that drove his fury and insecurity. I could use this but how?
I groaned as he stepped towards me, uncapped his tube..., twisting around behind me, he grabbed my breasts and massaged the paste into them.
"Nigh..." I whimpered through the gag. I writhed against him, desperate to prevent him from touching my nipples. I failed and they began to smoulder as badly as my pussy.
I began to hobble along faster, trying in vain to ignore the way my clit was throbbing in time with my heartbeat, and almost cried when I saw the next bump in the rope, my breath quickened. This one was also damp and glistening. I looked up at Cruce, willing myself to not show fear, reminding myself, ‘Hope strengthens and fear kills’.
He smirked and with total condescension said, "Oh, relax, I..." There was the supercilious grin again, that infuriated me. I growled into my gag......
Clenching my jaw, I stepped over the knot, tensing my body against the sensations I knew were coming. But I still groaned around the panties in my mouth at the feeling of that rough little knot scraping over my swollen, sensitive clit.
I kept moving, whimpering slightly as I felt the slick juice from my pussy dragging across my asshole as the knot passed through, and focused as best I could on the course in front of me. What had seemed like an easy way to earn a glass of water was beginning to look like pure torture, and I had to force myself to take the next few steps, moaning as my overly-sensitive clit was treated to the intense texture of the rope.
I could see the next knot approaching and my breath quickened as I realized this one was also damp. I looked up at Cruce, trying not to let him see the fear in my eyes, and he laughed at me.
"Oh, relax. I thought you might need a little more lube by this stage of the course, but I clearly underestimated your pussy's capacity for punishment. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he said, grinning at me in that infuriating way he had. I growled something unintelligible behind my gag and kept moving, each step an effort of will.
I navigated the rope, each knot wearing down my sexual resistance but stimulating my fury at this pathetic bastard and his games. I was more than halfway through, panting desperately, with my swollen clit and nipples aching. I vowed to myself, that he would pay for this. He would learn that actions have consequences. That's it … focus on my anger and retaining the dignity that he was attempting to steal.
However, each knot as it dragged over my clit increased my arousal, but not enough to tip me over the edge into an orgasm.
He wanted to break me … I wouldn't let him. I was a fucking O'Connor, descendant of the Unseelie King's magic I had my own power, a Sidhe-Seer, and a null. I wasn't some slutty bimbo...
Was I?
Of course, I bloody well wasn't. I snapped my head up and glared at Cruce, my eyes promising him retribution.
He simply dismissed my threats with an amused smile ......., and my steps faltered …
I snapped my head up to glare at Cruce again, to show him that he wasn't winning, and found myself looking into a pair of very amused looking eyes. My gaze faltered, flicking ahead to the next knot, and my steps slowed. The next one was red.
“Mmmmmm … fuck …”, I moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen.
"Oh, you noticed that, huh? Well, I don't want to ruin your surprise by telling you what it is." he laughed, stepping forward with the belt. I hesitated, long enough that he gave me a sharp smack on my ass with it, making me yelp behind the gag.
"Fuck, Mackayla, I do love how your ass looks with those belt marks on it!” He said, stepping closer squeezing my cheeks he pushed himself into me, taunting me with how turned on he was.
“Remind me to explore that further when you're done, hmm?"
I ignored him and shuffled forward, trying to buy some time, before he. But before I could take another step …
“Whack!”, the belt cut into my ass, harder this time. "Move, Mackayla." he ordered, raising the belt again, "or I'll start whipping those beautiful tits."
My eyes widened, alarmed at the prospect of my engorged breasts being subjected to his belt, and I hobbled forward as best I could, cringing as my clit made contact with the sinister looking red knot.
I attempted to raise myself higher as I passed it. However, he anticipated my movements and, with a gleeful expression on his face, the bastard pushed down on my shoulder!
Whatever was on the rope dragged through my pussy, increasing the painful burn from my sensitive nub to my ass. I staggered forward, my soft lips swelling as the fiery agony spread throughout my body.
I screamed into the gag, arching my back hoping to scrape whatever was scorching me, away from my skin. But all I accomplished was to grind it in further, the rough rope fibres rasping between my opened labia.
I began shaking as tears flowed down my cheeks. I attempted to collect myself, then he smiled ; provocatively, he slowly lifted the belt.'
I became frantic, as I struggled to scrape the desperately offensive substance from my labia. My entire existence narrowed down to the area between my legs, every nerve ending screaming out in pain and pleasure. I wanted to sob with the agony of it and yet I was so turned on I could barely stand it. At that moment I would have done anything to cum.
How long I continued grinding my pussy into the rope, I don't know. A distant part of me was aware of what was happening and took a mental snap shot of the situation. I shook myself to alertness and became aware of Cruce. His pants strained under the bulge of his erection, the pressure forcing a button to pop.
Fuck, I hated this. He was so bloody sensual, with long black hair caressing his shoulders. Cruce was watching me avidly, a large bulge in his pants showing how he felt about the situation. I stared at him, his beautiful body and gorgeous features as tears of pain dribbled down my cheeks, and I groaned, my body shaking as I tried to control myself. He smiled, an approving sort of look on his face as he slowly lifted the belt.
"Nigh........pls!" I whimpered, pleading with my eyes as he swung at my behind. My hips jerked as he made contact, my body arching from the pain and pleasurer combined, as my exquisitely sensitive pussy continued its relentless pilgrimage over the rope.
The damned clamp's teeth gnawed at my throbbing nipples. I stumbled and lost my balance, the soles of my feet hitting the floor and my pussy landing with full force onto the rope. I screamed again, struggling to get back onto my toes, fighting to stay lucid as a tide of pain and pleasure overwhelmed me. I wobbled for a moment before standing straight, panting with the effort and strain, staring at him wild-eyed.
"Poor little Mackayla," he grinned, a feral hunger animating his face. "A few drops of hot spice and you turn into a blubbering slut who humps inanimate objects. I thought you were tougher than that, huh," glancing up I noticed how wide his grin was.
His words, launched an invisible arrow of shame into my heart. Humiliation ballooned in my chest, restricting my lungs, making it difficult to breath. Chagrin marked me further as I realised how aroused I was. How much more could I take?
My brain was foggy and I knew that if only I could, I would willingly give him what he wanted. I just wanted the pain to end. In fact, a little part of me, that secret little voice inside me, almost welcomed the idea.
I was also contending with the foul knowledge, that a whisper in my mind almost welcomed the idea of submitting to Cruce. I wished to tell him all, feel his mouth and hands all over my body and let him fuck me in every conceivable position. He could whip me, twist my nipples and I would moan and writhe beneath him. Fuck, what was I thinking? It was that thought, more than anything, which snapped me back into reality.
What was happening to me? This was what Unsellei fae Royalty did … it was the effect they had. This was how they turned girls Pri'ya. Did I want to be Pri'ya again?
Shit no! What sort of magic was he using? I had become immune to the Sidhba-jai … So, what was the bastard doing to me?
I gathered what little shreds of my dignity I could, stiffening my spine and scowled at him. The pleasure written all over his face, at my display of resistance, alarmed me.
I shifted my gaze back and counted two more knots until the end of the rope. I hobbled forward, compensating my gait awkwardly, as I attempted to balance on the balls of my feet with the pipe spreading my ankles. The rope elicited a moan from me as it dragged slowly across my clit.
I resolved to ignore my constant state of arousal. The tug on my nipples, the moisture oozing from my pussy, the overwhelming burn of the Tchai-Ovna making my clit into a swollen little bundle of raw nerve endings.
Each torturous step, was a jumble of pleasure and pain, so profound ... I would make him pay for this, the motherfucker would not defeat me..
How could I control my reactions? What was that I had read about mantras? Yes, chant but what? Cruce kill him, maim him, shove hot sauce up his perverted ass. If that didn't work cut his dick off, slice by slice with a razor blade. All this was going through my mind, like a broken record, while simultaneously my ass burned as the knot glided within it.
I began to chant to myself, in my head, listing off ways of maiming and injuring Cruce, making a Mantra out of it. I imagined shoving a whole bottle of hot spice up his perverted ass, even as my own bottom itched and burned against the knot, slick with my own juices.
I persevered, knowing that every cell in my body was desperate for something, anything, to make this torment stop. I approached the final knot, feeling that I had a minor triumph over Cruce. Once again, I had miscalculated as I stared at the knot.
It was bright red.
I whimpered, as my body shuddered and my resolve crumbled. No - I couldn't, I wouldn't move across it.
Already the nerve endings on my clit were chafed raw. I was so swollen with juices, spices and my blood mixing with the lube to make an agonizing combination. I had to avoid this last knot. Through my eyes I pleaded with Cruce …
He sneered, and slowly, vindictively lifted the belt, striking me squarely on the underside of my left breast causing it to rebound and jerk hard against the nipple clamp. My inflamed bud throbbed as I shrieked through the gag. He swung again, and caught my other breast. Struggling to avoid more pain, I inched my way across the knot.
My body betrayed me. My clit reacted spontaneously, as the hot spice ground into my already tortured flesh. I shrieked, as the pain and the twinkling of unwanted desire, made me see a host of metaphorical stars.
And then it happened …
My pussy contracted sharply, as my back arched and tears fell from my eyes. It was unlike any climax I had known. The orgasm had consumed me like wild-fire and left me desolate in its aftermath. It was such an empty experience, devoid of any connection that makes the sexual experience worthwhile.
I glared, displaying all my loathing towards Cruce. As my perspiration covered body trembled, he clapped, mocking me with every beat. My face reddened and this seemed to turn him on more.
“Well, that was entertaining MacKayla. I suppose you’ve earned your reward now, haven’t you?”
He stepped forward, and slid his fingers between my swollen labia and stroked my scorched nub, letting his fingers wander to the outer area of my pussy. I gasped, subconsciously thrusting forward into him while my mind was totally repelled. I wanted to ease the pain but with equal measure wished to stoically defy him.
Then, despite his very deliberate gagging of my mouth, Cruce spoke giving me the most infernal choice to which I could not reply.
"So ... Mackayla. Do you want that glass of water in your mouth, or do you want it to cool down your pussy?"
TO BE CONTINUED ...
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 4
“Painful Knots, for your pleasure …"
“Painful Knots, for your pleasure …"
MAC
“… I'll take you by the hand,
And I'll show you a world that you can understand…”
I felt the same little spark of pleasure as it slid across my clit and into my pussy, and paused a moment, waiting for something terrible to happen.
There was nothing at first and I again wondered what had made Cruce look so happy - and then a tingle began in my clit. I twitched slightly, taking another step forward so the knot dragged past my ass, and then twitched again, the tingle becoming more of an itch. Within moments my clit was on fire, my pussy beginning to itch and my ass was tingling unbearably.
"Mmmnnnghh?" I groaned, taking another step, hoping the texture of the rope would ease the burning sensation. It didn't. Cruce burst out laughing, looking very pleased with himself, and pulled a small tube of Tchai-Ovna spice from the pocket of his jacket as it lay over the back of a chair.
“Faeries blood, Mackayla. The sap from the Tchai-Ovna plant, the hottest spice known to Faery-kind …”
Fuck! I knew what it was … What I hadn’t known is how much it could burn a clitoris, never having been stupid enough to smear it onto myself.
“This will make things more interesting. You were looking far too complacent a moment ago, This is so much fun. You see how creative I can be Mackayla? Imagine what experiences I could have given you, if you had chosen me not Barrons. Yet, I can make it even better.”
Tears of anger and pain leaked from the corner of my eyes. Understanding dawned, Cruce was using his desire for the book to justify his actions. Yet, it was his own pain at being rejected, the humiliation he felt that a mere human woman would choose another that drove his fury and insecurity. I could use this but how?
I groaned as he stepped towards me, uncapped his tube..., twisting around behind me, he grabbed my breasts and massaged the paste into them.
"Nigh..." I whimpered through the gag. I writhed against him, desperate to prevent him from touching my nipples. I failed and they began to smoulder as badly as my pussy.
I began to hobble along faster, trying in vain to ignore the way my clit was throbbing in time with my heartbeat, and almost cried when I saw the next bump in the rope, my breath quickened. This one was also damp and glistening. I looked up at Cruce, willing myself to not show fear, reminding myself, ‘Hope strengthens and fear kills’.
He smirked and with total condescension said, "Oh, relax, I..." There was the supercilious grin again, that infuriated me. I growled into my gag......
Clenching my jaw, I stepped over the knot, tensing my body against the sensations I knew were coming. But I still groaned around the panties in my mouth at the feeling of that rough little knot scraping over my swollen, sensitive clit.
I kept moving, whimpering slightly as I felt the slick juice from my pussy dragging across my asshole as the knot passed through, and focused as best I could on the course in front of me. What had seemed like an easy way to earn a glass of water was beginning to look like pure torture, and I had to force myself to take the next few steps, moaning as my overly-sensitive clit was treated to the intense texture of the rope.
I could see the next knot approaching and my breath quickened as I realized this one was also damp. I looked up at Cruce, trying not to let him see the fear in my eyes, and he laughed at me.
"Oh, relax. I thought you might need a little more lube by this stage of the course, but I clearly underestimated your pussy's capacity for punishment. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he said, grinning at me in that infuriating way he had. I growled something unintelligible behind my gag and kept moving, each step an effort of will.
I navigated the rope, each knot wearing down my sexual resistance but stimulating my fury at this pathetic bastard and his games. I was more than halfway through, panting desperately, with my swollen clit and nipples aching. I vowed to myself, that he would pay for this. He would learn that actions have consequences. That's it … focus on my anger and retaining the dignity that he was attempting to steal.
However, each knot as it dragged over my clit increased my arousal, but not enough to tip me over the edge into an orgasm.
He wanted to break me … I wouldn't let him. I was a fucking O'Connor, descendant of the Unseelie King's magic I had my own power, a Sidhe-Seer, and a null. I wasn't some slutty bimbo...
Was I?
Of course, I bloody well wasn't. I snapped my head up and glared at Cruce, my eyes promising him retribution.
He simply dismissed my threats with an amused smile ......., and my steps faltered …
I snapped my head up to glare at Cruce again, to show him that he wasn't winning, and found myself looking into a pair of very amused looking eyes. My gaze faltered, flicking ahead to the next knot, and my steps slowed. The next one was red.
“Mmmmmm … fuck …”, I moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen.
"Oh, you noticed that, huh? Well, I don't want to ruin your surprise by telling you what it is." he laughed, stepping forward with the belt. I hesitated, long enough that he gave me a sharp smack on my ass with it, making me yelp behind the gag.
"Fuck, Mackayla, I do love how your ass looks with those belt marks on it!” He said, stepping closer squeezing my cheeks he pushed himself into me, taunting me with how turned on he was.
“Remind me to explore that further when you're done, hmm?"
I ignored him and shuffled forward, trying to buy some time, before he. But before I could take another step …
“Whack!”, the belt cut into my ass, harder this time. "Move, Mackayla." he ordered, raising the belt again, "or I'll start whipping those beautiful tits."
My eyes widened, alarmed at the prospect of my engorged breasts being subjected to his belt, and I hobbled forward as best I could, cringing as my clit made contact with the sinister looking red knot.
I attempted to raise myself higher as I passed it. However, he anticipated my movements and, with a gleeful expression on his face, the bastard pushed down on my shoulder!
Whatever was on the rope dragged through my pussy, increasing the painful burn from my sensitive nub to my ass. I staggered forward, my soft lips swelling as the fiery agony spread throughout my body.
I screamed into the gag, arching my back hoping to scrape whatever was scorching me, away from my skin. But all I accomplished was to grind it in further, the rough rope fibres rasping between my opened labia.
I began shaking as tears flowed down my cheeks. I attempted to collect myself, then he smiled ; provocatively, he slowly lifted the belt.'
I became frantic, as I struggled to scrape the desperately offensive substance from my labia. My entire existence narrowed down to the area between my legs, every nerve ending screaming out in pain and pleasure. I wanted to sob with the agony of it and yet I was so turned on I could barely stand it. At that moment I would have done anything to cum.
How long I continued grinding my pussy into the rope, I don't know. A distant part of me was aware of what was happening and took a mental snap shot of the situation. I shook myself to alertness and became aware of Cruce. His pants strained under the bulge of his erection, the pressure forcing a button to pop.
Fuck, I hated this. He was so bloody sensual, with long black hair caressing his shoulders. Cruce was watching me avidly, a large bulge in his pants showing how he felt about the situation. I stared at him, his beautiful body and gorgeous features as tears of pain dribbled down my cheeks, and I groaned, my body shaking as I tried to control myself. He smiled, an approving sort of look on his face as he slowly lifted the belt.
"Nigh........pls!" I whimpered, pleading with my eyes as he swung at my behind. My hips jerked as he made contact, my body arching from the pain and pleasurer combined, as my exquisitely sensitive pussy continued its relentless pilgrimage over the rope.
The damned clamp's teeth gnawed at my throbbing nipples. I stumbled and lost my balance, the soles of my feet hitting the floor and my pussy landing with full force onto the rope. I screamed again, struggling to get back onto my toes, fighting to stay lucid as a tide of pain and pleasure overwhelmed me. I wobbled for a moment before standing straight, panting with the effort and strain, staring at him wild-eyed.
"Poor little Mackayla," he grinned, a feral hunger animating his face. "A few drops of hot spice and you turn into a blubbering slut who humps inanimate objects. I thought you were tougher than that, huh," glancing up I noticed how wide his grin was.
His words, launched an invisible arrow of shame into my heart. Humiliation ballooned in my chest, restricting my lungs, making it difficult to breath. Chagrin marked me further as I realised how aroused I was. How much more could I take?
My brain was foggy and I knew that if only I could, I would willingly give him what he wanted. I just wanted the pain to end. In fact, a little part of me, that secret little voice inside me, almost welcomed the idea.
I was also contending with the foul knowledge, that a whisper in my mind almost welcomed the idea of submitting to Cruce. I wished to tell him all, feel his mouth and hands all over my body and let him fuck me in every conceivable position. He could whip me, twist my nipples and I would moan and writhe beneath him. Fuck, what was I thinking? It was that thought, more than anything, which snapped me back into reality.
What was happening to me? This was what Unsellei fae Royalty did … it was the effect they had. This was how they turned girls Pri'ya. Did I want to be Pri'ya again?
Shit no! What sort of magic was he using? I had become immune to the Sidhba-jai … So, what was the bastard doing to me?
I gathered what little shreds of my dignity I could, stiffening my spine and scowled at him. The pleasure written all over his face, at my display of resistance, alarmed me.
I shifted my gaze back and counted two more knots until the end of the rope. I hobbled forward, compensating my gait awkwardly, as I attempted to balance on the balls of my feet with the pipe spreading my ankles. The rope elicited a moan from me as it dragged slowly across my clit.
I resolved to ignore my constant state of arousal. The tug on my nipples, the moisture oozing from my pussy, the overwhelming burn of the Tchai-Ovna making my clit into a swollen little bundle of raw nerve endings.
Each torturous step, was a jumble of pleasure and pain, so profound ... I would make him pay for this, the motherfucker would not defeat me..
How could I control my reactions? What was that I had read about mantras? Yes, chant but what? Cruce kill him, maim him, shove hot sauce up his perverted ass. If that didn't work cut his dick off, slice by slice with a razor blade. All this was going through my mind, like a broken record, while simultaneously my ass burned as the knot glided within it.
I began to chant to myself, in my head, listing off ways of maiming and injuring Cruce, making a Mantra out of it. I imagined shoving a whole bottle of hot spice up his perverted ass, even as my own bottom itched and burned against the knot, slick with my own juices.
I persevered, knowing that every cell in my body was desperate for something, anything, to make this torment stop. I approached the final knot, feeling that I had a minor triumph over Cruce. Once again, I had miscalculated as I stared at the knot.
It was bright red.
I whimpered, as my body shuddered and my resolve crumbled. No - I couldn't, I wouldn't move across it.
Already the nerve endings on my clit were chafed raw. I was so swollen with juices, spices and my blood mixing with the lube to make an agonizing combination. I had to avoid this last knot. Through my eyes I pleaded with Cruce …
He sneered, and slowly, vindictively lifted the belt, striking me squarely on the underside of my left breast causing it to rebound and jerk hard against the nipple clamp. My inflamed bud throbbed as I shrieked through the gag. He swung again, and caught my other breast. Struggling to avoid more pain, I inched my way across the knot.
My body betrayed me. My clit reacted spontaneously, as the hot spice ground into my already tortured flesh. I shrieked, as the pain and the twinkling of unwanted desire, made me see a host of metaphorical stars.
And then it happened …
My pussy contracted sharply, as my back arched and tears fell from my eyes. It was unlike any climax I had known. The orgasm had consumed me like wild-fire and left me desolate in its aftermath. It was such an empty experience, devoid of any connection that makes the sexual experience worthwhile.
I glared, displaying all my loathing towards Cruce. As my perspiration covered body trembled, he clapped, mocking me with every beat. My face reddened and this seemed to turn him on more.
“Well, that was entertaining MacKayla. I suppose you’ve earned your reward now, haven’t you?”
He stepped forward, and slid his fingers between my swollen labia and stroked my scorched nub, letting his fingers wander to the outer area of my pussy. I gasped, subconsciously thrusting forward into him while my mind was totally repelled. I wanted to ease the pain but with equal measure wished to stoically defy him.
Then, despite his very deliberate gagging of my mouth, Cruce spoke giving me the most infernal choice to which I could not reply.
"So ... Mackayla. Do you want that glass of water in your mouth, or do you want it to cool down your pussy?"
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Attachments
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
CRUCE
“… Metal in my hand
It was the middle of winter when the lights went out
I was swallowed by the darkness …”
I knew she couldn't answer, and I didn't care. I just held Mackayla there for a second, almost tenderly, her tight nubile body trembling in my arms as I gripped her hair to tilt her head back and slowly stroked her swollen clit.
I smiled to myself as my fingers actually began to burn slightly, feeling not just the Tchai-Ovna spice still mixing with her natural juices, but the heat that was emanating from her slit. If it was doing that to my hand, her pussy must have felt ... quite exquisite.
“Tell me Mackayla, when you discovered that it was me, the Fourth Prince, the unseen one that took you on that glorious day at the church, how did that make you feel? Did it make your breasts swell and your thighs glisten at the thought?”
I was mocking her and enjoying it.
Again, I knew that she couldn’t answer but I wanted to remind her of the part I had played in her life and that it was me who turned her into the whore she had become.
“I so enjoyed that moment, fucking you Mackayla, watching you turn into the Pri-ya slut that we know is your true destiny.”
The groan emanating from her bound mouth as she breathed hard up her nose was music to my ears. A tear had formed and begun to roll down her cheek, which I gently wiped away.
She was gleaming with sweat and tension, her legs rigid and trembling, and I could see the tight muscles at the base of her belly jumping subconsciously as she tried to maintain her balance. Mackayla Lane really was an incredible specimen. I slid my hand lower, cupping her mound and gently squeezing, wiping a little more of the potent mixture from her flesh and teasing the pliant entrance to her body with the tip of one finger.
More tears now glistened at the corners of my beautiful bound victim’s closed eyes, and I could see her lashes fluttering slightly. She looked as if she had forgotten where she was for just a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation and rush of endorphins that would be following the pain.
Her essential nature, that of a highly sexual being, would be in conflict with her personal will and determination right now. Her ego and her acumen making her fight me. I knew the latter wouldn't hold out forever, and part of me almost regretted that. Mackayla was the best toy I'd ever had, and what good is a toy once it's broken?
I pushed my finger into her, slowly, feeling her clench and tremble as the aftermath of her ruined orgasm still pulsed through her body. I wondered how that frustrating moment of pleasure would play against the new feeling of having the burning mixture now coating my finger actually penetrate her. The interesting thing was that I could tell she was starting not to care ...
I let go of her hair and yanked the electrical tape away from her mouth with a vicious tug.
Mackayla gasped again, jerking against me as I simultaneously pulled my finger out and let the rope snap taut against her still-burning pussy.
"Open," I commanded, holding my hand out to take the panties from her mouth. For once, she obeyed without hesitation.
"I asked you a question, Mackayla," I reminded her as she stretched her mouth, strained her jaws, trying frantically to make them work again … "The water, in your mouth or your pussy?"
"C … can I d … do half and half?" she stuttered sullenly, her face and neck flushed a delicious deep red.
"No," I grinned, and yanked the clip off her left nipple.
Mackayla actually rose up away from the rope at that moment, and I've never seen anyone put so much effort into not screaming. Her whole body was rendered completely rigid, and she was standing almost en-pointe, every muscle clearly outlined, tensed and unbending. I didn't help her anguish at all, by idly running my fingers back and forth across her abused breast. The nerves were clearly still tingling with stimulation not yet fully engorged as they woke from the numbing pressure of the clamp and encountered the Tchai-Ovna once again. Forget pins and needles, it must have felt like knives and nails!
And it made me achingly erect.
I put my hand on the other clamp. "Mouth," I said, "or pussy?"
"Pussy!" came the strangled word. "Please! Cruce! Please! My pussy!"
"You really can't get enough of me playing with that tight little slit, can you?" I chuckled, and reached over to untie the knot that kept the rope taut, and it came free, just as I pulled the clamp off her right nipple.
Mackayla collapsed onto the floor, writhing, and this time there was no way she was keeping quiet. It wasn't a scream, exactly, but almost a high-pitched, continuous keening. I stood there for a moment, relishing the sight of this beautiful girl, my Mackayla, completely helpless. The belt marks remained a vibrant crimson on her ass and underneath her breasts, and of course the spreader bar continued to keep her legs so wide apart that her bright pink labia stayed completely exposed.
I took the belt into my grip once more and touched it lightly to her inner thigh. Her eyes flickered open with a startled look, and she went completely still.
"Good girl," I said softly. "Arch your hips up off the ground so I can wash you properly."
I could tell that she was becoming more docile, accustomed to the fact that she was helpless. Her Sidhe-seer abilities suppressed by the Unseelie flesh writhing around inside her body, Mackayla was human again … and so beautifully vulnerable.
Soon I would be able to take what I wanted, but until that time there was much more fun to be had.
I felt my erection stiffen, pushing hard at my pants. I needed to release it and envelope it in the warmth of this gorgeous girl’s body,
Mackayla gritted her teeth, clearly wanting to spit fire at me again, but she was also desperate for the relief that she believed the water would bring to her burning thighs and pussy.
In line with my guidance, she pushed her hips towards me, and once again I was able to admire the presentation of taut abs as her bare pussy was presented to me in the manner of the wanton slut she truly was.
I took two steps to a nearby stool and retrieved the small bottle of water from it, then knelt back down next to her.
She was breathing through her nose, erratically trying to maintain the humiliating posture in the wake of everything I'd put her through, and we locked eyes … just for a moment. There was hatred there, yes, and lust, and pain, and ... something else? Not fear, but something far more complex.
I saw her gaze flicker over my bared chest, and then upwards into my face before slipping, maybe unwittingly, downwards to my groin. I smiled.
Opening the bottle I poured a thin stream onto her clit. Mackayla groaned, her hips bucking uncontrollably as I tilted the bottle to let it drain a little faster, and at this point she might have preferred me to use my fingers to spray her again.
As the water pooled into a small puddle underneath her body, I sensed her begin to relax, ever so slightly. Her shoulders fell limp and she emitted a long whoosh from between her slightly parted lips. The water wouldn't completely wash away the pain, but for a moment, she was clearly savouring the small amount of relief I'd offered.
Poor Mackayla had no idea how much worse it was about to get.
I turned my head as soon I heard the noise, and what a noise it was. Barrons looked apoplectic … and it made my heart soar!
He had returned and was now standing inside the store approximately 10 feet away from where I had his Rainbow Girl under at my mercy.
“What the fuck, Cruce. Don’t you dare …”
I looked up at him and laughed. “I already have my friend, and I intend to again … and again …”
It was obvious that Barrons knew what I had done to restrain him, the ward that I had reversed and which had now become his enemy. His banged his fist against the unseen barrier and shouted his expletives for everyone to hear.
“You fucking bastard Cruce, I will kill you for this. You will never know peace again you Unseelie cunt!”
His fury delighted me, and now it was time to let him see the show!
I put the toe of my shoe under Mackayla’s lower back and lifted, flipping her over onto her side and making her grunt. She faced him and now, standing behind Mackayla, so did I.
The spreader bar made her ankle swing up off the ground, and I took the metal pipe in my grip, using it to drag her across the hard wood floor as she struggled weakly.
I dropped her in front of her man. His face was a picture. He had stopped his shouting and was now looking down onto the scene unfolding before him.
“Watch me Barrons, watch what I can do …”
As I raised my arms the entire room turned to Winter. Frost covered the floor and icicles grew down from the high ceiling. Mackayla was turning blue before his very eyes …
“Stop, for fuck’s sake Cruce, please stop!” He could see what this was doing to his girl.
“Beg me to fuck her Barrons. Give me your blessing to fuck your Rainbow Girl hard, like I did at the church. Tell me that I can take her in her mouth, in her front and from her rear. Tell me!”
Small flakes of snow began to fall. My body became my protection as the Tattoos that permeated under my skin began to writhe within me, warming the blood the flowed in my Unseelie Fae veins.
“Fuck you!” Was Barrons response. I laughed in his face.
The snow fall became more substantial and Mackayla was shivering and trembling, her naked body now a definite blue hue …
Did Barrons know that she had Unseelie inside her and couldn’t die?
I didn’t think he did, not judging by the way he sank to his knees and lowered his head.
“You may fuck her …” he said quietly to my considerable delight.
“I couldn’t hear you Barrons, tell me again and this time it’s not your permission I want but your desperate plea.”
The room was now turning dark. It was like a cold Winter’s night inside the bookstore as Barrons looked up at me, his face a mask of desperation, and he said, “Please fuck her. Take her however you like … just stop the Winter please Cruce, show her some mercy … she loved you once!”
His words did nothing but infuriate me.
“Loved me ONCE!” I roared, “Mackayla has never stopped loving me, and from this day on she will love no one else, ever. Certainly not you, Barrons! She will be MY concubine!”
I took Mackayla’s exposed body, still bound, and pulled her to me. Then, without another word to the frantic Barrons, I sifted.
“Wh … where … are we, and is Barr …” The sift had re-engorged her body with warm blood and she was no longer suffering from the early effects of hypothermia.
I laughed as I bundled her out of my arms to roll heavily across the stone floor. “No Mackayla, Barrons has seen enough to know that I have you, and to have no doubts about my intentions. But for now, we have left him behind.”
“He has a navigation tattoo on my neck, he will find …”
I slapped her hard, sending the beautiful girl reeling. She looked up at me, mournful, scared … exquisite.
“Shut the fuck up about Barrons, Mackayla. Your tattoo is warded inside this place and he will only know your whereabouts if I want him to.”
The mention of the words ‘this place …’ caused her to look around. The dawn of realisation in her expression made her face a picture.
“It’s a … d …”
“A dungeon Mackayla, well done,” I said, finishing off her unsaid words in a mocking tone.
Her gaze settled on the round metal tub propped up on high legs. It was filled with water, which I had set to be freezing cold, and what’s more, the H2O inside was pure and filtered … ideal for my nefarious purposes.
I reached down to grab her mussed hair, hanging free and unkempt around her face, and dragged her up to the small wooden table at the tank’s side.
She groaned, but had neither the freedom, nor the energy to object to what I was doing.
Despite her ankles still being bound to the pipe and her wrists tied behind her back, I soon had Mackayla kneeling on the small wooden table top, and was now, via a fistful of her hair, forcing her to look down into the tank. Her eyes widened as she saw the water staring back up at her, no doubt remembering our first little session with the hose.
“What do you see?” I asked provocatively.
“What?” She answered.
“Are you fucking stupid Mackayla? What do you see in the tank?”
“Water, you dick!” She replied with more assertion, which delighted me because it meant she still had fight left in her. That would make this far more fun.
“Water, yes. But look again Mackayla. Look more closely at the opposite side of the tank.
“Fuck …”. Her quiet, monosyllabic response was almost erotic in itself.
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 5
“I hit the deck and clenched my teeth …"
“I hit the deck and clenched my teeth …"
CRUCE
“… Metal in my hand
It was the middle of winter when the lights went out
I was swallowed by the darkness …”
I knew she couldn't answer, and I didn't care. I just held Mackayla there for a second, almost tenderly, her tight nubile body trembling in my arms as I gripped her hair to tilt her head back and slowly stroked her swollen clit.
I smiled to myself as my fingers actually began to burn slightly, feeling not just the Tchai-Ovna spice still mixing with her natural juices, but the heat that was emanating from her slit. If it was doing that to my hand, her pussy must have felt ... quite exquisite.
“Tell me Mackayla, when you discovered that it was me, the Fourth Prince, the unseen one that took you on that glorious day at the church, how did that make you feel? Did it make your breasts swell and your thighs glisten at the thought?”
I was mocking her and enjoying it.
Again, I knew that she couldn’t answer but I wanted to remind her of the part I had played in her life and that it was me who turned her into the whore she had become.
“I so enjoyed that moment, fucking you Mackayla, watching you turn into the Pri-ya slut that we know is your true destiny.”
The groan emanating from her bound mouth as she breathed hard up her nose was music to my ears. A tear had formed and begun to roll down her cheek, which I gently wiped away.
She was gleaming with sweat and tension, her legs rigid and trembling, and I could see the tight muscles at the base of her belly jumping subconsciously as she tried to maintain her balance. Mackayla Lane really was an incredible specimen. I slid my hand lower, cupping her mound and gently squeezing, wiping a little more of the potent mixture from her flesh and teasing the pliant entrance to her body with the tip of one finger.
More tears now glistened at the corners of my beautiful bound victim’s closed eyes, and I could see her lashes fluttering slightly. She looked as if she had forgotten where she was for just a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation and rush of endorphins that would be following the pain.
Her essential nature, that of a highly sexual being, would be in conflict with her personal will and determination right now. Her ego and her acumen making her fight me. I knew the latter wouldn't hold out forever, and part of me almost regretted that. Mackayla was the best toy I'd ever had, and what good is a toy once it's broken?
I pushed my finger into her, slowly, feeling her clench and tremble as the aftermath of her ruined orgasm still pulsed through her body. I wondered how that frustrating moment of pleasure would play against the new feeling of having the burning mixture now coating my finger actually penetrate her. The interesting thing was that I could tell she was starting not to care ...
I let go of her hair and yanked the electrical tape away from her mouth with a vicious tug.
Mackayla gasped again, jerking against me as I simultaneously pulled my finger out and let the rope snap taut against her still-burning pussy.
"Open," I commanded, holding my hand out to take the panties from her mouth. For once, she obeyed without hesitation.
"I asked you a question, Mackayla," I reminded her as she stretched her mouth, strained her jaws, trying frantically to make them work again … "The water, in your mouth or your pussy?"
"C … can I d … do half and half?" she stuttered sullenly, her face and neck flushed a delicious deep red.
"No," I grinned, and yanked the clip off her left nipple.
Mackayla actually rose up away from the rope at that moment, and I've never seen anyone put so much effort into not screaming. Her whole body was rendered completely rigid, and she was standing almost en-pointe, every muscle clearly outlined, tensed and unbending. I didn't help her anguish at all, by idly running my fingers back and forth across her abused breast. The nerves were clearly still tingling with stimulation not yet fully engorged as they woke from the numbing pressure of the clamp and encountered the Tchai-Ovna once again. Forget pins and needles, it must have felt like knives and nails!
And it made me achingly erect.
I put my hand on the other clamp. "Mouth," I said, "or pussy?"
"Pussy!" came the strangled word. "Please! Cruce! Please! My pussy!"
"You really can't get enough of me playing with that tight little slit, can you?" I chuckled, and reached over to untie the knot that kept the rope taut, and it came free, just as I pulled the clamp off her right nipple.
Mackayla collapsed onto the floor, writhing, and this time there was no way she was keeping quiet. It wasn't a scream, exactly, but almost a high-pitched, continuous keening. I stood there for a moment, relishing the sight of this beautiful girl, my Mackayla, completely helpless. The belt marks remained a vibrant crimson on her ass and underneath her breasts, and of course the spreader bar continued to keep her legs so wide apart that her bright pink labia stayed completely exposed.
I took the belt into my grip once more and touched it lightly to her inner thigh. Her eyes flickered open with a startled look, and she went completely still.
"Good girl," I said softly. "Arch your hips up off the ground so I can wash you properly."
I could tell that she was becoming more docile, accustomed to the fact that she was helpless. Her Sidhe-seer abilities suppressed by the Unseelie flesh writhing around inside her body, Mackayla was human again … and so beautifully vulnerable.
Soon I would be able to take what I wanted, but until that time there was much more fun to be had.
I felt my erection stiffen, pushing hard at my pants. I needed to release it and envelope it in the warmth of this gorgeous girl’s body,
Mackayla gritted her teeth, clearly wanting to spit fire at me again, but she was also desperate for the relief that she believed the water would bring to her burning thighs and pussy.
In line with my guidance, she pushed her hips towards me, and once again I was able to admire the presentation of taut abs as her bare pussy was presented to me in the manner of the wanton slut she truly was.
I took two steps to a nearby stool and retrieved the small bottle of water from it, then knelt back down next to her.
She was breathing through her nose, erratically trying to maintain the humiliating posture in the wake of everything I'd put her through, and we locked eyes … just for a moment. There was hatred there, yes, and lust, and pain, and ... something else? Not fear, but something far more complex.
I saw her gaze flicker over my bared chest, and then upwards into my face before slipping, maybe unwittingly, downwards to my groin. I smiled.
Opening the bottle I poured a thin stream onto her clit. Mackayla groaned, her hips bucking uncontrollably as I tilted the bottle to let it drain a little faster, and at this point she might have preferred me to use my fingers to spray her again.
As the water pooled into a small puddle underneath her body, I sensed her begin to relax, ever so slightly. Her shoulders fell limp and she emitted a long whoosh from between her slightly parted lips. The water wouldn't completely wash away the pain, but for a moment, she was clearly savouring the small amount of relief I'd offered.
Poor Mackayla had no idea how much worse it was about to get.
I turned my head as soon I heard the noise, and what a noise it was. Barrons looked apoplectic … and it made my heart soar!
He had returned and was now standing inside the store approximately 10 feet away from where I had his Rainbow Girl under at my mercy.
“What the fuck, Cruce. Don’t you dare …”
I looked up at him and laughed. “I already have my friend, and I intend to again … and again …”
It was obvious that Barrons knew what I had done to restrain him, the ward that I had reversed and which had now become his enemy. His banged his fist against the unseen barrier and shouted his expletives for everyone to hear.
“You fucking bastard Cruce, I will kill you for this. You will never know peace again you Unseelie cunt!”
His fury delighted me, and now it was time to let him see the show!
I put the toe of my shoe under Mackayla’s lower back and lifted, flipping her over onto her side and making her grunt. She faced him and now, standing behind Mackayla, so did I.
The spreader bar made her ankle swing up off the ground, and I took the metal pipe in my grip, using it to drag her across the hard wood floor as she struggled weakly.
I dropped her in front of her man. His face was a picture. He had stopped his shouting and was now looking down onto the scene unfolding before him.
“Watch me Barrons, watch what I can do …”
As I raised my arms the entire room turned to Winter. Frost covered the floor and icicles grew down from the high ceiling. Mackayla was turning blue before his very eyes …
“Stop, for fuck’s sake Cruce, please stop!” He could see what this was doing to his girl.
“Beg me to fuck her Barrons. Give me your blessing to fuck your Rainbow Girl hard, like I did at the church. Tell me that I can take her in her mouth, in her front and from her rear. Tell me!”
Small flakes of snow began to fall. My body became my protection as the Tattoos that permeated under my skin began to writhe within me, warming the blood the flowed in my Unseelie Fae veins.
“Fuck you!” Was Barrons response. I laughed in his face.
The snow fall became more substantial and Mackayla was shivering and trembling, her naked body now a definite blue hue …
Did Barrons know that she had Unseelie inside her and couldn’t die?
I didn’t think he did, not judging by the way he sank to his knees and lowered his head.
“You may fuck her …” he said quietly to my considerable delight.
“I couldn’t hear you Barrons, tell me again and this time it’s not your permission I want but your desperate plea.”
The room was now turning dark. It was like a cold Winter’s night inside the bookstore as Barrons looked up at me, his face a mask of desperation, and he said, “Please fuck her. Take her however you like … just stop the Winter please Cruce, show her some mercy … she loved you once!”
His words did nothing but infuriate me.
“Loved me ONCE!” I roared, “Mackayla has never stopped loving me, and from this day on she will love no one else, ever. Certainly not you, Barrons! She will be MY concubine!”
I took Mackayla’s exposed body, still bound, and pulled her to me. Then, without another word to the frantic Barrons, I sifted.
“Wh … where … are we, and is Barr …” The sift had re-engorged her body with warm blood and she was no longer suffering from the early effects of hypothermia.
I laughed as I bundled her out of my arms to roll heavily across the stone floor. “No Mackayla, Barrons has seen enough to know that I have you, and to have no doubts about my intentions. But for now, we have left him behind.”
“He has a navigation tattoo on my neck, he will find …”
I slapped her hard, sending the beautiful girl reeling. She looked up at me, mournful, scared … exquisite.
“Shut the fuck up about Barrons, Mackayla. Your tattoo is warded inside this place and he will only know your whereabouts if I want him to.”
The mention of the words ‘this place …’ caused her to look around. The dawn of realisation in her expression made her face a picture.
“It’s a … d …”
“A dungeon Mackayla, well done,” I said, finishing off her unsaid words in a mocking tone.
Her gaze settled on the round metal tub propped up on high legs. It was filled with water, which I had set to be freezing cold, and what’s more, the H2O inside was pure and filtered … ideal for my nefarious purposes.
I reached down to grab her mussed hair, hanging free and unkempt around her face, and dragged her up to the small wooden table at the tank’s side.
She groaned, but had neither the freedom, nor the energy to object to what I was doing.
Despite her ankles still being bound to the pipe and her wrists tied behind her back, I soon had Mackayla kneeling on the small wooden table top, and was now, via a fistful of her hair, forcing her to look down into the tank. Her eyes widened as she saw the water staring back up at her, no doubt remembering our first little session with the hose.
“What do you see?” I asked provocatively.
“What?” She answered.
“Are you fucking stupid Mackayla? What do you see in the tank?”
“Water, you dick!” She replied with more assertion, which delighted me because it meant she still had fight left in her. That would make this far more fun.
“Water, yes. But look again Mackayla. Look more closely at the opposite side of the tank.
“Fuck …”. Her quiet, monosyllabic response was almost erotic in itself.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
CRUCE
“… On the edge of fear is where trust can grow …”
“You see the wires huh?”
She nodded, her eyes focused on the bare copper ends of the two wires dipping into the tub on the opposite side.
“What the fuck? You’re gonna kill me Cruce …” the panic that once more infused her voice was delicious.
“… Please don’t do this, oh fuck no please …”
I laughed, intent now on prolonging this initial mental anguish for her. “So, you spotted the copper wires in there huh? A tank of pure, filtered water, freezing cold, but with two heated wires inside. What could I possibly do with those?” She looked despairingly at the wide grin on my face.
She clearly had no idea.
“Drown me … waterboard me …electrocute me?” her words were whispered.
“Oh Mackayla, all great ideas, but it’s not quite that simple.” I paused for effect before continuing. “What I propose Mackayla, is that you get into the tank …”
“Oh please, Cruce, oh fuck, please … don’t drown me …” Mackayla was sobbing hard now, begging and pleading and her distressed beauty made my erection ache
“Will you pass the Sinsar Dubh, in its entirety, over to me …” It was time to begin the interrogation again.
But even now, amidst this moment where Mackayla thought she was going to die, even now she would not agree to the one thing which she believed would save her.
"It’s distilled," I said quietly, breaking her frightened silence. "That water is so pure that, at the moment, it won't actually conduct electricity. See?" I dipped my free hand into it, held it there for a second, then grinned and drew it back out, shaking it. "My goodness! It certainly is cold, though..."
"Then what's the point?" she muttered. "Or are you just showing off what you know about this crap?"
"The point, Mackayla, is that you're not pure at all." I yanked her hair back, forcing her to lean backwards, knees still bent on the board and back arched up. I supported her head and ran one finger down her sleek, sweaty abdomen, then licked it. "Body salt. Salt water conducts electricity just fine. And the longer you stay in there, the longer you try to resist, the more conducive that tub becomes. The wires won’t need a connection to crackle into life, your body will do just fine"
She tried to keep a stoic expression, but I could see the pulse flutter in her neck. Now she understood.
"Before I break your teeth," she whispered, "before I dissolve your scrotum, I'm going to etch your eyes with acid."
I laughed heartily.
"You must be delusional from thirst," I said blandly. "Here you go, little whore. You get that cool, refreshing drink after all."
Mackayla tried to keep herself rigid, away from the tub, but she had no leverage. With my grip on her hair, I lifted her to an upright kneeling position again, and then slowly forced her to bend forward at the waist until she splashed face-first into the ice cold tank.
She jerked hard in my grip when the cold hit her, and I was frankly surprised that she still had the muscle control to do even that. I kept her head down though, fully submerged, taking a moment to admire her degrading pose: ankles still held wide apart, ass forced to rise up into the air, wrists behind her and her face and chest plunged down even deeper than they would have been if she were prostrate on the floor. Bubbles rose from beside her face. Silly girl, she needed to hold her breath and keep her mouth closed …
After I was sure there was no air left in her lungs, I counted ten more slow seconds, then yanked her back up to a kneeling position.
Mackayla inhaled desperately and coughed, then puked the water back up making it sluice down her body to drip between her thighs. Her face was bright pink with the cold and exertion, and goose bumps rose on her chest, her nipples once again hard and tight. I gave the right one a familiar flick, and she didn’t even flinch.
"How was that Mackayla?" I murmured. "I bet at this point you're grateful to be going numb ..."
She tried to shake her head, but I still had a tight grip on her hair. "B-bastard," she managed through ragged breaths.
"That's kind of a weak epithet, given what you have been calling me," I frowned. "Maybe you need to have your imagination stimulated?" She now clearly knew what this meant and so Mackayla sensibly, but desperately, inhaled just before I plunged her once more into the depths of the freezing tub.
She responded better this time, her breath held far more effectively. I counted another twenty before I reached into my pocket and plucked out the little device that I had used on her pussy earlier. It was still coated in sticky juices. I paused briefly to enjoy the moment, and then pressed it between her spread legs, pushing it hard against her distended clit.
Mackayla probably thought the water would muffle her squeal. It did, kind of. Bubbles streamed to the surface once again as she squirmed, and I almost felt a little sympathy for her; after walking that rope, her raw, throbbing pussy would not interpret the vibration as soothing pleasure. It would be more like a jackhammer on her frayed nerve endings. I tightened my grip in her hair as she bucked and jerked, almost totally out of her own control, unable to pull up from the painfully cold water or escape the punishment of the vibe.
Thirty seconds.
Fifty seconds.
At fifty-nine I yanked her back up and plucked the egg away. She sobbed openly for breath, her body shaking with exhaustion, and I was sure not all of the water pouring down her face was from the tub.
"Ready to give me what I want?" I asked.
She tried to spit.
Calmly and methodically, I lifted my open hand and began to spank her swollen breasts. Left, then right, then left again, just as I had earlier after she'd bitten my hand. I made the rhythm exactly the same, so she'd know to anticipate the next one on her wet flesh, and to flinch appropriately. I could see it in her face, the moment the first sting began to eat through the numbness of the cold.
"Salt diffuses into water pretty quickly," I said, and paused for another smack, hard enough that it made my palm sting.
"You're running out of time before the electricity finds a good path between those wires."
Smack.
"That path will very likely involve your sweet body Mackayla."
Smack!
"Deep breath my little bitch?"
Smack!
Before she could take my advice, I shoved her back down and picked up the bullet to resume the impossible conflict.
I didn't feel it myself, I only held her by the hair, but I knew exactly when the first jolt sparked and the blue fork arced through the water.
I had started pushing the small metal vibe in between her soft, pliant folds, making her hips rise and as a consequence submerge her body even more. Then I pulled it away and let her hips relax a little until once again I applied the touch. Repeating this time after time forced Mackayla to unwittingly push backwards into my hand, like a humping dog.
It was at around the count of thirty that she suddenly spasmed hard, fighting upward against my grip on her hair. The strength she was able to summon took me by surprise, and she almost got clear of the water before I regained control and pushed her once more deep into its cold depths, whilst at the same time pressing the small vibe ever more insistently against her sore and slippery lips.
Eventually the water would be evenly saturated with her salty sweat, and the electricity would come through as a buzzing current, but right now it still had to build up and then jump across the tub. But every time, it snapped through her body, she lost more air to the scream.
Just before, what I judged to have been, the fifth shock, I pulled her out and put down the vibrator.
She'd stopped trying to fight my leverage and sagged onto the platform, trembling. Her breath was a series of shudders, her breasts and cheeks flushed bright pink, and she'd bitten her lip at some point, and the small cut, surrounded by watery blood, was starting to swell. She didn't meet my gaze.
I reached down between her thighs and cupped her, feeling the heat throbbing from her bare and swollen slit. After all the abuse, it wouldn't exactly feel good, but a gentle touch rather than a vicious pounding had to be some kind of relief. I felt her respond as I carefully, very gently pushed two fingers up into her body. Almost immediately her cunt pulsed softly around them. She was fever-hot and dripping wet, and not just from the coolant tub.
I let go of her hair for a moment, took her chin, tilted her head back and kissed her.
Mackayla didn't bite this time. Perhaps fear had got the better of her, or perhaps she was simply too stunned to respond, or maybe she was in shock. But I didn't think so. When her tongue flicked against mine, I knew I was almost through to the other Mackayla; the sexual animal that once loved me, the slut who couldn’t resist the aura I exuded, the submissive who not only wanted this treatment, but embraced it!
Then I felt her stiffen and squirm, fighting to pull away from me, and I knew she wasn't quite there yet.
Before Mackayla could form a coherent sentence, I tore my mouth from hers, restored my grip on her hair, and once more forced her face-down into the water.
This time the electricity was ready for her, and immediately I felt her go rigid, twisting in my grip with what must have been the very last of her strength. I could almost hear the crackle of the shock as it danced through her helpless body.
I reached for the vibrator, but then changed my mind. I had a better idea. My arm was aching … it was time to assert myself properly as the powerful Fae Prince that I was.
Standing I pointed my hand at her. The same one from which I was able to spout the water flow. This time the output was invisible to the eye, but not to the corporeal surroundings of reality.
I had placed an invisible weighted collar around Mackayla’s neck, holding her down, submerged. And she would remain that way until I released the spell …
Her failed attempts to surge upwards and out of the tank were a delight to watch, as each time she struggled enough to take in a small bubble of breath through her nostrils before dropping back down again.
Oh, the joy of watching her firm ass writhe and squirm … my cock had never been so hard! Each time she hit the water a fresh charge snapped to jolt her and she screamed out her submerged cry with pitiful anguish.
Mackayla squirmed as she pushed upwards hard against the unseen burden. Her cold, punished nipples continually breeched the slopping, splashing surface of the water, and the voltage from the wires snapped through both rigid little teats. Then her struggles slowed, her body shaking with helpless exhaustion.
Slowly, casually, I picked up the egg and pressed it against her. With deliberation, I began to work the head of the small vibe up and down her pliant folds, making sure no inch of her hypersensitive slit was spared.
I released the spell and grabbed her hair, pulling her gasping face clear of the tank. She coughed, spluttered and spat …
Then I leaned down to her ear. "Would you like to stay out of the water, Mackayla?" I murmured.
"FUCK!" she screamed, unable to even buck away from this renewed torment, unable to draw a complete breath with the way she was bent double over the water, trying desperately to keep every part of her body away from touching it.
“Tell me Mackayla, do you wish me to help you.”
She'd been wobbling as I spoke, her abdominal muscles tensed and trembling, and just then they gave in. She plunged down into the still-frozen water, and the shock that hit her must have been the hardest yet. She had to try three times before she could lift herself out, just to encounter the reasserted collar spell, and start the struggle all over again.
I angled the vibrator up so that all its pressure was directly on her tortured clit. "Well, Mackayla Lane?"
"Cruce … please!" she said, a strangled gasp.
Then her body collapsed again, hit the water with a splash, and then rose back up with what must have been an unbelievable effort. I pushed the bullet harder against her and she dropped, splashed, screamed, and then struggled up.
“On or off Mackayla,” I teased.
“Off you bastard, turn … it … off … and let me up, please I beg you.”
Laughing, I acceded to her requests. She rose out of the tank and I took the egg away from her pussy. I saw her shoulders go limp, eyes closing, breath whistling in her throat.
I took two fingers and found her carotid artery, slowly pressing it tight. It was one of the things I’d learned over my many, many years, how to safely, surely take a victim into unconsciousness, and that’s what Mackayla had become … my victim … and my slave.
She would be out cold in ten seconds.
Eight.
Six.
"My whore," I whispered in her ear, "Little Mackayla. All mine, and soon I will have the Sinsar Dubh all to myself."
Perhaps it was just her muscles slackening, but I thought she nodded as her eyes closed and she slipped away.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 6
“Water, water everywhere …"
“Water, water everywhere …"
CRUCE
“… On the edge of fear is where trust can grow …”
“You see the wires huh?”
She nodded, her eyes focused on the bare copper ends of the two wires dipping into the tub on the opposite side.
“What the fuck? You’re gonna kill me Cruce …” the panic that once more infused her voice was delicious.
“… Please don’t do this, oh fuck no please …”
I laughed, intent now on prolonging this initial mental anguish for her. “So, you spotted the copper wires in there huh? A tank of pure, filtered water, freezing cold, but with two heated wires inside. What could I possibly do with those?” She looked despairingly at the wide grin on my face.
She clearly had no idea.
“Drown me … waterboard me …electrocute me?” her words were whispered.
“Oh Mackayla, all great ideas, but it’s not quite that simple.” I paused for effect before continuing. “What I propose Mackayla, is that you get into the tank …”
“Oh please, Cruce, oh fuck, please … don’t drown me …” Mackayla was sobbing hard now, begging and pleading and her distressed beauty made my erection ache
“Will you pass the Sinsar Dubh, in its entirety, over to me …” It was time to begin the interrogation again.
But even now, amidst this moment where Mackayla thought she was going to die, even now she would not agree to the one thing which she believed would save her.
"It’s distilled," I said quietly, breaking her frightened silence. "That water is so pure that, at the moment, it won't actually conduct electricity. See?" I dipped my free hand into it, held it there for a second, then grinned and drew it back out, shaking it. "My goodness! It certainly is cold, though..."
"Then what's the point?" she muttered. "Or are you just showing off what you know about this crap?"
"The point, Mackayla, is that you're not pure at all." I yanked her hair back, forcing her to lean backwards, knees still bent on the board and back arched up. I supported her head and ran one finger down her sleek, sweaty abdomen, then licked it. "Body salt. Salt water conducts electricity just fine. And the longer you stay in there, the longer you try to resist, the more conducive that tub becomes. The wires won’t need a connection to crackle into life, your body will do just fine"
She tried to keep a stoic expression, but I could see the pulse flutter in her neck. Now she understood.
"Before I break your teeth," she whispered, "before I dissolve your scrotum, I'm going to etch your eyes with acid."
I laughed heartily.
"You must be delusional from thirst," I said blandly. "Here you go, little whore. You get that cool, refreshing drink after all."
Mackayla tried to keep herself rigid, away from the tub, but she had no leverage. With my grip on her hair, I lifted her to an upright kneeling position again, and then slowly forced her to bend forward at the waist until she splashed face-first into the ice cold tank.
She jerked hard in my grip when the cold hit her, and I was frankly surprised that she still had the muscle control to do even that. I kept her head down though, fully submerged, taking a moment to admire her degrading pose: ankles still held wide apart, ass forced to rise up into the air, wrists behind her and her face and chest plunged down even deeper than they would have been if she were prostrate on the floor. Bubbles rose from beside her face. Silly girl, she needed to hold her breath and keep her mouth closed …
After I was sure there was no air left in her lungs, I counted ten more slow seconds, then yanked her back up to a kneeling position.
Mackayla inhaled desperately and coughed, then puked the water back up making it sluice down her body to drip between her thighs. Her face was bright pink with the cold and exertion, and goose bumps rose on her chest, her nipples once again hard and tight. I gave the right one a familiar flick, and she didn’t even flinch.
"How was that Mackayla?" I murmured. "I bet at this point you're grateful to be going numb ..."
She tried to shake her head, but I still had a tight grip on her hair. "B-bastard," she managed through ragged breaths.
"That's kind of a weak epithet, given what you have been calling me," I frowned. "Maybe you need to have your imagination stimulated?" She now clearly knew what this meant and so Mackayla sensibly, but desperately, inhaled just before I plunged her once more into the depths of the freezing tub.
She responded better this time, her breath held far more effectively. I counted another twenty before I reached into my pocket and plucked out the little device that I had used on her pussy earlier. It was still coated in sticky juices. I paused briefly to enjoy the moment, and then pressed it between her spread legs, pushing it hard against her distended clit.
Mackayla probably thought the water would muffle her squeal. It did, kind of. Bubbles streamed to the surface once again as she squirmed, and I almost felt a little sympathy for her; after walking that rope, her raw, throbbing pussy would not interpret the vibration as soothing pleasure. It would be more like a jackhammer on her frayed nerve endings. I tightened my grip in her hair as she bucked and jerked, almost totally out of her own control, unable to pull up from the painfully cold water or escape the punishment of the vibe.
Thirty seconds.
Fifty seconds.
At fifty-nine I yanked her back up and plucked the egg away. She sobbed openly for breath, her body shaking with exhaustion, and I was sure not all of the water pouring down her face was from the tub.
"Ready to give me what I want?" I asked.
She tried to spit.
Calmly and methodically, I lifted my open hand and began to spank her swollen breasts. Left, then right, then left again, just as I had earlier after she'd bitten my hand. I made the rhythm exactly the same, so she'd know to anticipate the next one on her wet flesh, and to flinch appropriately. I could see it in her face, the moment the first sting began to eat through the numbness of the cold.
"Salt diffuses into water pretty quickly," I said, and paused for another smack, hard enough that it made my palm sting.
"You're running out of time before the electricity finds a good path between those wires."
Smack.
"That path will very likely involve your sweet body Mackayla."
Smack!
"Deep breath my little bitch?"
Smack!
Before she could take my advice, I shoved her back down and picked up the bullet to resume the impossible conflict.
I didn't feel it myself, I only held her by the hair, but I knew exactly when the first jolt sparked and the blue fork arced through the water.
I had started pushing the small metal vibe in between her soft, pliant folds, making her hips rise and as a consequence submerge her body even more. Then I pulled it away and let her hips relax a little until once again I applied the touch. Repeating this time after time forced Mackayla to unwittingly push backwards into my hand, like a humping dog.
It was at around the count of thirty that she suddenly spasmed hard, fighting upward against my grip on her hair. The strength she was able to summon took me by surprise, and she almost got clear of the water before I regained control and pushed her once more deep into its cold depths, whilst at the same time pressing the small vibe ever more insistently against her sore and slippery lips.
Eventually the water would be evenly saturated with her salty sweat, and the electricity would come through as a buzzing current, but right now it still had to build up and then jump across the tub. But every time, it snapped through her body, she lost more air to the scream.
Just before, what I judged to have been, the fifth shock, I pulled her out and put down the vibrator.
She'd stopped trying to fight my leverage and sagged onto the platform, trembling. Her breath was a series of shudders, her breasts and cheeks flushed bright pink, and she'd bitten her lip at some point, and the small cut, surrounded by watery blood, was starting to swell. She didn't meet my gaze.
I reached down between her thighs and cupped her, feeling the heat throbbing from her bare and swollen slit. After all the abuse, it wouldn't exactly feel good, but a gentle touch rather than a vicious pounding had to be some kind of relief. I felt her respond as I carefully, very gently pushed two fingers up into her body. Almost immediately her cunt pulsed softly around them. She was fever-hot and dripping wet, and not just from the coolant tub.
I let go of her hair for a moment, took her chin, tilted her head back and kissed her.
Mackayla didn't bite this time. Perhaps fear had got the better of her, or perhaps she was simply too stunned to respond, or maybe she was in shock. But I didn't think so. When her tongue flicked against mine, I knew I was almost through to the other Mackayla; the sexual animal that once loved me, the slut who couldn’t resist the aura I exuded, the submissive who not only wanted this treatment, but embraced it!
Then I felt her stiffen and squirm, fighting to pull away from me, and I knew she wasn't quite there yet.
Before Mackayla could form a coherent sentence, I tore my mouth from hers, restored my grip on her hair, and once more forced her face-down into the water.
This time the electricity was ready for her, and immediately I felt her go rigid, twisting in my grip with what must have been the very last of her strength. I could almost hear the crackle of the shock as it danced through her helpless body.
I reached for the vibrator, but then changed my mind. I had a better idea. My arm was aching … it was time to assert myself properly as the powerful Fae Prince that I was.
Standing I pointed my hand at her. The same one from which I was able to spout the water flow. This time the output was invisible to the eye, but not to the corporeal surroundings of reality.
I had placed an invisible weighted collar around Mackayla’s neck, holding her down, submerged. And she would remain that way until I released the spell …
Her failed attempts to surge upwards and out of the tank were a delight to watch, as each time she struggled enough to take in a small bubble of breath through her nostrils before dropping back down again.
Oh, the joy of watching her firm ass writhe and squirm … my cock had never been so hard! Each time she hit the water a fresh charge snapped to jolt her and she screamed out her submerged cry with pitiful anguish.
Mackayla squirmed as she pushed upwards hard against the unseen burden. Her cold, punished nipples continually breeched the slopping, splashing surface of the water, and the voltage from the wires snapped through both rigid little teats. Then her struggles slowed, her body shaking with helpless exhaustion.
Slowly, casually, I picked up the egg and pressed it against her. With deliberation, I began to work the head of the small vibe up and down her pliant folds, making sure no inch of her hypersensitive slit was spared.
I released the spell and grabbed her hair, pulling her gasping face clear of the tank. She coughed, spluttered and spat …
Then I leaned down to her ear. "Would you like to stay out of the water, Mackayla?" I murmured.
"FUCK!" she screamed, unable to even buck away from this renewed torment, unable to draw a complete breath with the way she was bent double over the water, trying desperately to keep every part of her body away from touching it.
“Tell me Mackayla, do you wish me to help you.”
She'd been wobbling as I spoke, her abdominal muscles tensed and trembling, and just then they gave in. She plunged down into the still-frozen water, and the shock that hit her must have been the hardest yet. She had to try three times before she could lift herself out, just to encounter the reasserted collar spell, and start the struggle all over again.
I angled the vibrator up so that all its pressure was directly on her tortured clit. "Well, Mackayla Lane?"
"Cruce … please!" she said, a strangled gasp.
Then her body collapsed again, hit the water with a splash, and then rose back up with what must have been an unbelievable effort. I pushed the bullet harder against her and she dropped, splashed, screamed, and then struggled up.
“On or off Mackayla,” I teased.
“Off you bastard, turn … it … off … and let me up, please I beg you.”
Laughing, I acceded to her requests. She rose out of the tank and I took the egg away from her pussy. I saw her shoulders go limp, eyes closing, breath whistling in her throat.
I took two fingers and found her carotid artery, slowly pressing it tight. It was one of the things I’d learned over my many, many years, how to safely, surely take a victim into unconsciousness, and that’s what Mackayla had become … my victim … and my slave.
She would be out cold in ten seconds.
Eight.
Six.
"My whore," I whispered in her ear, "Little Mackayla. All mine, and soon I will have the Sinsar Dubh all to myself."
Perhaps it was just her muscles slackening, but I thought she nodded as her eyes closed and she slipped away.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Attachments
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
MAC
“… Hate me ... Do it and do it again ... Waste me…”
I hurt. My instincts were battling with my sluggish brain as I struggled to regain consciousness. It was screaming at me to move, and move quickly, but my body wasn't obeying the commands from my mind. I felt tender and bruised all over, each nerve ending overloaded with sensitivity, my muscles weak as I tried to take a mental inventory of my predicament.
My last memories were fuzzy. Cruce's voice and hands, the weight around my neck, my desperate, panicked struggle. I shivered. It wasn't the water, or even the shocks, it was the humiliating and painful way he'd systematically stripped me down, exposed me, made me question my very nature and ultimately made me submit to him. I felt raw and jumbled, like he'd hollowed me out and put everything back in the wrong place. Who I was, what I was, all of it seemed so tenuous now.
"I'm a Sidhe-Seer," I whispered trying to define myself in my own head, my voice hoarse, as I wrenched my eyelids open.
I was talking to no one.
My hands were secured behind my back, still tied by what seemed like the same tight rope, but, with the ankle-spreader gone, I was otherwise unrestrained in the same stark, hard wood floored dungeon.
I whimpered, wondering what sort of torment he'd devised for me next. My nipples hardened in spite of myself as I imagined the things he could dream up. I had a sudden urge to just lie there, to give up and let him win. To stop fighting him, and just accept his control. I felt warmth pooling in my core at the idea, a traitorous little voice whispering that I'd probably even enjoy it. To feel his hands caressing my sensitive nipples, his cock in my pussy as he held me down and fucked me. To hear him call me his little whore, to know that that's what I truly was. Would that be so bad?
"No." I whispered again, my voice coming out in a sob. "No, I'm not a whore, I’m a … woman … my own woman … I’m Mackayla Lane!”
I gritted my teeth, whispering this new mantra to myself, tears running down my cheeks as I fought back the tide of emotions, the weakness, the confusion.
"I'm a woman." I hissed, my breath turning to a gasp as I sat up, my sore muscles protesting.
"I'm a woman." I rolled to my feet in a manoeuvre that should have been second nature and yet felt stiff and somehow foreign.
"I’M A WOMAN!" I screamed at the top of my voice, my face feeling flushed, my chest heaving with the effort of choking back my tears.
"Fuck you, Cruce, I'm going to win. I'm going to win." I whispered, to myself, my brain finally clicking into gear.
I scanned the room again, assessing the door strength, hinges, walls, floor, any cameras he might have put in to watch me. The door was a large thick wooden slab with a peephole in the centre - standard dungeon issue I guessed, virtually impossible to break out of. Ok, walls?
Stone and pretty unbreakable. Fuck!
Then the door opened and his large frame cast its shadow into the room. I shut my eyes hearing the clang of the lock as it closed behind him.
"Cruce." I said, turning my head towards him. "Let's talk." I tried to make my voice sound forlorn, my body language that of someone broken, hopeless, when all the time I was hoping that I might trick him into making a mistake which I could take advantage of.
"I can't ... I can't do this anymore. Please. I just ... let's talk, like you want." I let a few more tears fall, hunching my shoulders and bowing my head. There was a pause, just long enough for me to wonder if he was even listening to me.
“Talk about what Mackayla?” He was listening.
“Ab … about,” I continued to sob, “About what you want, the spells from the book. The book itself.” I cried harder, my words coming out in gasps. "Please, just let’s talk like you wanted to. I need to end this. I can't keep going."
“Do you think you know what I want Mackayla?” His words were clearly designed to be provocative. I did know, I did know what he wanted … didn’t I? He had told me himself, hadn’t he?
"Please," I gasped, crumpling to the ground, my voice breaking with anguish. "Please, I just need to be free from this, I can't breathe, please ... I can't ..."
There was another long pause, then through tear blurred eyes, I looked up at him, this man who made me the Pri’ya whore that I knew, underneath everything else, I still was.
With my eyes now closed again I sensed Cruce rather than saw him as he made his way towards me and then knelt by my side. Without a word he gripped my hair and pulled hard stretching my neck backwards, forcing my face to look up at him.
I hissed, twisting and struggling as he grappled with me, one big hand fisting itself in my hair and wrenching my neck even further back, holding me in place. I felt his position shift, slightly, and then he was pressing against me, a hard bulge nestled up against my thigh as he tugged even harder.
"No more games, Mackayla," he growled into my ear, his voice cold and furious. "No more teasing, no more fun. I've been taking my time, indulging your little mind trips, and this is how you decide to repay me, by spouting such bullshit, suggesting you’re done, beaten, defeated?"
"You're fucking insane," I spat. He had all the advantages on his side; gravity, my bound wrists, his painful grip on my hair. My only chance was to piss him off enough to make a mistake, but I knew even that chance wasn't good. "Maybe if you weren't completely incompetent at this you would already have me … AAGH!"
He'd bitten my ear, hard enough to make me cry out, maybe hard enough to draw blood. For all the hate I felt for him, all the fury and desperation building in my chest, I couldn't help but notice that it was a strangely intimate way to inflict pain.
"Do you remember how I took you at the church, Mackayla?" I felt his hand slide down between us as he snarled in my ear. I knew the answer to his question but I said nothing.
“Do you remember how I felt inside your warm, tight little hole huh?”
I felt bile rising into my throat.
“… When I fucked your ass Mackayla?”
I enjoyed that painful, cruel, degrading act upon your tight, nubile little body, and now you get to see that history so often repeats itself."
I felt and heard his zipper, and it was suddenly too much to bear … I broke down.
I fought hard. I bucked, I kicked, I screamed. My bound hands flailed ineffectually behind my back as I writhed under him, desperate to keep him from fulfilling his threat. My newfound resolve, my fragile hold on myself, all of it was on the line. I couldn't let him win. I called him every insult I could think of, tears streaming down my face as he used my hair to haul me up onto my knees, keeping my legs spread with his own, and then pressing my face to the floor, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
I could feel his cock against my pussy, warm and thick, and I cried out when his fingers delved inside me. His thumb pressed down on my clit, rocking back and forth as he leaned forward, his breath hot in my throbbing ear.
"You're wet, Mackayla. Soaking. Wet. Scream and beg all you want, it just tells me that you want this. No one can hear you down here. You need my cock in your ass."
I felt sick as I heard him say these words and I cried out my denials, even as he slid his cock back and forth across my wet labia, gathering the moisture there while his thumb danced over my clit, making me squirm.
"Take a breath, girl," he growled, and pressed the head of his cock against my asshole.
I ignored his advice and screamed, bucking against him, trying to dislodge him, but he was inexorable. His cock pressed forward, stretching and burning as it slid slowly past my tight sphincter, filling me up inch by inch as I panted and moaned, begging him to stop. My ass felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming, and yet deep down there was a spark of pleasure.
I could feel it in my core, that desire to submit, to let him do with me as he wanted, and the hot shame of it washed over me as he grunted and shoved the last few inches inside, his balls slapping against my wet pussy.
The fullness of his shaft made me cry out again. I struggled harder, writhing and moaning against him, but he ignored my protestations and pulled back until just the head of his cock was left inside of me. Then without warning he slammed forward again, rocking my body and making me scream. The pain of it was fading, but in its place was a dirty, degraded sort of pleasure. He began to fuck my ass, slowly at first and then faster; his balls swung against my clit, his fist in my hair keeping me under control.
"I'm not even going to ask you any questions," he growled, pinching my clit cruelly, making me tighten around his cock in a way that sent little jolts of pleasure through me. "I just want you to take this, slut. I want you to know how much you need it. I want you to know just how getting fucked like this makes you feel. And then, when you are done, once I have taken all you have to offer, I will tell you what I truly want from you!"
I had no words; I just moaned, shaking my head as much as his grip would allow, and he made an angry noise before redoubling his efforts, fucking my ass deeper and harder.
"You've lost, Mackayla. Just give up and enjoy it. We both know what you are, what you really want ..."
I whimpered, trying to deny the truth of his words as the jolts of pleasure became stronger, my pussy flooding his hand as he tugged and pinched my clit.
"No," I moaned, my ass tightening around him again, unconsciously. "No, no, no, noooooooo!"
I broke off into a scream, my back arching and my pussy and ass breaking into spasm as an intense, all-consuming orgasm crashed over me.
I was overwhelmed. Every bit of pent up frustration, all of Cruce's torment and teasing, all of my own insecurities and doubts, all of it fuelled my climax as I broke down and wept, my pussy clenching as waves of pleasure washed over me, each one pushed higher as Cruce continued to ride my ass.
I the dim and distant recesses of my mind I heard him cry out, felt his own orgasm as he slammed into me one more time, but it was through a fog. I knew when he pulled out, a strange emptiness inside me made me wish he hadn't stopped. But my body felt distant, drugged, as if it no longer belonged to me.
"Little Mackayla," I heard his voice in my ear, his hand gently stroking my sweat dampened curls from my face, "… Like I already told you, you and the book along with everything inside it, are mine."
And I could do nothing but slowly nod my head.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 7
“Sooner or Later it Will Be Done ..."
“Sooner or Later it Will Be Done ..."
MAC
“… Hate me ... Do it and do it again ... Waste me…”
I hurt. My instincts were battling with my sluggish brain as I struggled to regain consciousness. It was screaming at me to move, and move quickly, but my body wasn't obeying the commands from my mind. I felt tender and bruised all over, each nerve ending overloaded with sensitivity, my muscles weak as I tried to take a mental inventory of my predicament.
My last memories were fuzzy. Cruce's voice and hands, the weight around my neck, my desperate, panicked struggle. I shivered. It wasn't the water, or even the shocks, it was the humiliating and painful way he'd systematically stripped me down, exposed me, made me question my very nature and ultimately made me submit to him. I felt raw and jumbled, like he'd hollowed me out and put everything back in the wrong place. Who I was, what I was, all of it seemed so tenuous now.
"I'm a Sidhe-Seer," I whispered trying to define myself in my own head, my voice hoarse, as I wrenched my eyelids open.
I was talking to no one.
My hands were secured behind my back, still tied by what seemed like the same tight rope, but, with the ankle-spreader gone, I was otherwise unrestrained in the same stark, hard wood floored dungeon.
I whimpered, wondering what sort of torment he'd devised for me next. My nipples hardened in spite of myself as I imagined the things he could dream up. I had a sudden urge to just lie there, to give up and let him win. To stop fighting him, and just accept his control. I felt warmth pooling in my core at the idea, a traitorous little voice whispering that I'd probably even enjoy it. To feel his hands caressing my sensitive nipples, his cock in my pussy as he held me down and fucked me. To hear him call me his little whore, to know that that's what I truly was. Would that be so bad?
"No." I whispered again, my voice coming out in a sob. "No, I'm not a whore, I’m a … woman … my own woman … I’m Mackayla Lane!”
I gritted my teeth, whispering this new mantra to myself, tears running down my cheeks as I fought back the tide of emotions, the weakness, the confusion.
"I'm a woman." I hissed, my breath turning to a gasp as I sat up, my sore muscles protesting.
"I'm a woman." I rolled to my feet in a manoeuvre that should have been second nature and yet felt stiff and somehow foreign.
"I’M A WOMAN!" I screamed at the top of my voice, my face feeling flushed, my chest heaving with the effort of choking back my tears.
"Fuck you, Cruce, I'm going to win. I'm going to win." I whispered, to myself, my brain finally clicking into gear.
I scanned the room again, assessing the door strength, hinges, walls, floor, any cameras he might have put in to watch me. The door was a large thick wooden slab with a peephole in the centre - standard dungeon issue I guessed, virtually impossible to break out of. Ok, walls?
Stone and pretty unbreakable. Fuck!
Then the door opened and his large frame cast its shadow into the room. I shut my eyes hearing the clang of the lock as it closed behind him.
"Cruce." I said, turning my head towards him. "Let's talk." I tried to make my voice sound forlorn, my body language that of someone broken, hopeless, when all the time I was hoping that I might trick him into making a mistake which I could take advantage of.
"I can't ... I can't do this anymore. Please. I just ... let's talk, like you want." I let a few more tears fall, hunching my shoulders and bowing my head. There was a pause, just long enough for me to wonder if he was even listening to me.
“Talk about what Mackayla?” He was listening.
“Ab … about,” I continued to sob, “About what you want, the spells from the book. The book itself.” I cried harder, my words coming out in gasps. "Please, just let’s talk like you wanted to. I need to end this. I can't keep going."
“Do you think you know what I want Mackayla?” His words were clearly designed to be provocative. I did know, I did know what he wanted … didn’t I? He had told me himself, hadn’t he?
"Please," I gasped, crumpling to the ground, my voice breaking with anguish. "Please, I just need to be free from this, I can't breathe, please ... I can't ..."
There was another long pause, then through tear blurred eyes, I looked up at him, this man who made me the Pri’ya whore that I knew, underneath everything else, I still was.
With my eyes now closed again I sensed Cruce rather than saw him as he made his way towards me and then knelt by my side. Without a word he gripped my hair and pulled hard stretching my neck backwards, forcing my face to look up at him.
I hissed, twisting and struggling as he grappled with me, one big hand fisting itself in my hair and wrenching my neck even further back, holding me in place. I felt his position shift, slightly, and then he was pressing against me, a hard bulge nestled up against my thigh as he tugged even harder.
"No more games, Mackayla," he growled into my ear, his voice cold and furious. "No more teasing, no more fun. I've been taking my time, indulging your little mind trips, and this is how you decide to repay me, by spouting such bullshit, suggesting you’re done, beaten, defeated?"
"You're fucking insane," I spat. He had all the advantages on his side; gravity, my bound wrists, his painful grip on my hair. My only chance was to piss him off enough to make a mistake, but I knew even that chance wasn't good. "Maybe if you weren't completely incompetent at this you would already have me … AAGH!"
He'd bitten my ear, hard enough to make me cry out, maybe hard enough to draw blood. For all the hate I felt for him, all the fury and desperation building in my chest, I couldn't help but notice that it was a strangely intimate way to inflict pain.
"Do you remember how I took you at the church, Mackayla?" I felt his hand slide down between us as he snarled in my ear. I knew the answer to his question but I said nothing.
“Do you remember how I felt inside your warm, tight little hole huh?”
I felt bile rising into my throat.
“… When I fucked your ass Mackayla?”
I enjoyed that painful, cruel, degrading act upon your tight, nubile little body, and now you get to see that history so often repeats itself."
I felt and heard his zipper, and it was suddenly too much to bear … I broke down.
I fought hard. I bucked, I kicked, I screamed. My bound hands flailed ineffectually behind my back as I writhed under him, desperate to keep him from fulfilling his threat. My newfound resolve, my fragile hold on myself, all of it was on the line. I couldn't let him win. I called him every insult I could think of, tears streaming down my face as he used my hair to haul me up onto my knees, keeping my legs spread with his own, and then pressing my face to the floor, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
I could feel his cock against my pussy, warm and thick, and I cried out when his fingers delved inside me. His thumb pressed down on my clit, rocking back and forth as he leaned forward, his breath hot in my throbbing ear.
"You're wet, Mackayla. Soaking. Wet. Scream and beg all you want, it just tells me that you want this. No one can hear you down here. You need my cock in your ass."
I felt sick as I heard him say these words and I cried out my denials, even as he slid his cock back and forth across my wet labia, gathering the moisture there while his thumb danced over my clit, making me squirm.
"Take a breath, girl," he growled, and pressed the head of his cock against my asshole.
I ignored his advice and screamed, bucking against him, trying to dislodge him, but he was inexorable. His cock pressed forward, stretching and burning as it slid slowly past my tight sphincter, filling me up inch by inch as I panted and moaned, begging him to stop. My ass felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming, and yet deep down there was a spark of pleasure.
I could feel it in my core, that desire to submit, to let him do with me as he wanted, and the hot shame of it washed over me as he grunted and shoved the last few inches inside, his balls slapping against my wet pussy.
The fullness of his shaft made me cry out again. I struggled harder, writhing and moaning against him, but he ignored my protestations and pulled back until just the head of his cock was left inside of me. Then without warning he slammed forward again, rocking my body and making me scream. The pain of it was fading, but in its place was a dirty, degraded sort of pleasure. He began to fuck my ass, slowly at first and then faster; his balls swung against my clit, his fist in my hair keeping me under control.
"I'm not even going to ask you any questions," he growled, pinching my clit cruelly, making me tighten around his cock in a way that sent little jolts of pleasure through me. "I just want you to take this, slut. I want you to know how much you need it. I want you to know just how getting fucked like this makes you feel. And then, when you are done, once I have taken all you have to offer, I will tell you what I truly want from you!"
I had no words; I just moaned, shaking my head as much as his grip would allow, and he made an angry noise before redoubling his efforts, fucking my ass deeper and harder.
"You've lost, Mackayla. Just give up and enjoy it. We both know what you are, what you really want ..."
I whimpered, trying to deny the truth of his words as the jolts of pleasure became stronger, my pussy flooding his hand as he tugged and pinched my clit.
"No," I moaned, my ass tightening around him again, unconsciously. "No, no, no, noooooooo!"
I broke off into a scream, my back arching and my pussy and ass breaking into spasm as an intense, all-consuming orgasm crashed over me.
I was overwhelmed. Every bit of pent up frustration, all of Cruce's torment and teasing, all of my own insecurities and doubts, all of it fuelled my climax as I broke down and wept, my pussy clenching as waves of pleasure washed over me, each one pushed higher as Cruce continued to ride my ass.
I the dim and distant recesses of my mind I heard him cry out, felt his own orgasm as he slammed into me one more time, but it was through a fog. I knew when he pulled out, a strange emptiness inside me made me wish he hadn't stopped. But my body felt distant, drugged, as if it no longer belonged to me.
"Little Mackayla," I heard his voice in my ear, his hand gently stroking my sweat dampened curls from my face, "… Like I already told you, you and the book along with everything inside it, are mine."
And I could do nothing but slowly nod my head.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
BoundFever ...
CRUCE
“… Submission going down down, Dragging me down…”
I knelt by her side on the cold hard wood of the floor. She was unmoving, flat on her stomach, her hands still pulled harshly behind her back as my thick seed ran freely from her opened asshole. I moved position so that I could see her face and said, “Open your eyes little whore.”
My words were not said in a harsh tone, though I suppose they were assertive in their own way, but nonetheless her eyes flickered open. The first thing she saw was my still semi hard, dripping cock, slick with my own juices and her secretions. I smiled as I replaced it inside my suit.
“So, you think you know what I want Mackayla, huh, do you?”
I paused giving her time to whisper, “You can have the book, the spells. You can take from me in any way you wish Cruce, just don’t …” she gasped.
“Don’t what Mackayla? You need this, you want what it is I did to you here today don’t you?” I gripped her hair once more and turned her face fully towards mine.
She nodded slowly.
I had won.
“So, here’s what I want. This is what you will do Mackayla.”
Once again, I paused to allow her time for at least a semblance of rational thought.
“You have the Sinsar-Dubh inside you. the spells that float inside its pages should be mine. When I get them I will be complete and I can make my move to take the crown that so rightly belongs to me. You are already moving slowly back to becoming the Pri’ya slut you once were, and you will exist for me, and only me as my concubine.”
I stopped talking for a brief moment, before continuing.
“So, I will put a spell on your tongue, in the way I have before, but this time it will be conduit between you and I. A single Unseelie kiss and the Sinsar Dubh will flood the channel between us and the book will be mine …”
“And if I don’t agree?” Her words were not said in a rebellious kind of way, but uttered quietly so that I could barely hear.
“If you don’t agree Mackayla then next time we do this you won’t be walking out alive, and that goes for everyone you hold dear to your heart too.”
“You bastard …” more quiet words as it was clear that she hardly had the strength to open her mouth.
“Yes, aren’t I Mackayla, but you must admit that I am a very clever one!”
“Okay you have your deal Cruce …” and with that her eyes closed again.
I smiled to myself and checked the time.
“Sleep a while Mackayla, then you and I have a kiss to share.”
THE INTERROGATION OF MACKAYLA LANE - PART 8
“There For the Taking, I Want to Hear you Sing ..."
“There For the Taking, I Want to Hear you Sing ..."
CRUCE
“… Submission going down down, Dragging me down…”
I knelt by her side on the cold hard wood of the floor. She was unmoving, flat on her stomach, her hands still pulled harshly behind her back as my thick seed ran freely from her opened asshole. I moved position so that I could see her face and said, “Open your eyes little whore.”
My words were not said in a harsh tone, though I suppose they were assertive in their own way, but nonetheless her eyes flickered open. The first thing she saw was my still semi hard, dripping cock, slick with my own juices and her secretions. I smiled as I replaced it inside my suit.
“So, you think you know what I want Mackayla, huh, do you?”
I paused giving her time to whisper, “You can have the book, the spells. You can take from me in any way you wish Cruce, just don’t …” she gasped.
“Don’t what Mackayla? You need this, you want what it is I did to you here today don’t you?” I gripped her hair once more and turned her face fully towards mine.
She nodded slowly.
I had won.
“So, here’s what I want. This is what you will do Mackayla.”
Once again, I paused to allow her time for at least a semblance of rational thought.
“You have the Sinsar-Dubh inside you. the spells that float inside its pages should be mine. When I get them I will be complete and I can make my move to take the crown that so rightly belongs to me. You are already moving slowly back to becoming the Pri’ya slut you once were, and you will exist for me, and only me as my concubine.”
I stopped talking for a brief moment, before continuing.
“So, I will put a spell on your tongue, in the way I have before, but this time it will be conduit between you and I. A single Unseelie kiss and the Sinsar Dubh will flood the channel between us and the book will be mine …”
“And if I don’t agree?” Her words were not said in a rebellious kind of way, but uttered quietly so that I could barely hear.
“If you don’t agree Mackayla then next time we do this you won’t be walking out alive, and that goes for everyone you hold dear to your heart too.”
“You bastard …” more quiet words as it was clear that she hardly had the strength to open her mouth.
“Yes, aren’t I Mackayla, but you must admit that I am a very clever one!”
“Okay you have your deal Cruce …” and with that her eyes closed again.
I smiled to myself and checked the time.
“Sleep a while Mackayla, then you and I have a kiss to share.”
THE END
Cuervo
Governor
Excellent! There are two things that would drive me to whip her: her face and her red hair.
Cuervo
Governor
These are good. One of my fantasies is monster rape, plus assorted other sick things
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thanks for the kind words my friend
josé miguel tecles verdú
Governor
You could have included (just by way of suggestion) one to five lashes with the brutal Roman lash, or with the hideous Russian whip, the knut. Although I do not know if I have gone a bit, and therefore I suggest this number of blows given with these whips.