I could use my secret cave—expand it and secure it—to house countless slaves, offering them to other like-minded individuals with the proclivity for exploitation, all for top dollar of course. I could rent out these sluts like a fucking library book. And with my magic, I could make a binding contract, ensuring their return. Maniacal laughter burst from my throat when I realized what a fucking genius I was! I could really do this.
Capturing her was easy, fun even. The pursuit of the fox aroused me almost as much as seeing her shackled to the bed. It shouldn’t be too hard to secure more product to fill my cave, not with my powers and a few other perverse individuals to help me. And so, the process began.
I enlisted the assistance of some close friends who shared my interests, and soon after, Exotique was up and running. I expanded the cave deep underground, formed hallways lined with private cells, and I even created an auditorium just for the hell of it. I built personal quarters for myself and my employees into the higher levels of my underground lair. I sought the service of highly trained shifters to guard and protect my investment, and I hired those with a finance background to establish and secure purchase agreements to guarantee I always got paid.
Now, thirty years later, sitting in the soft leather chair behind the desk in my private office, I grab the remote once more. Flicking through the channels, I don’t stop until each screen displays the same female— the slave in cell number eight—my favorite.
My prized possession. With addictive blood that enhances the drinker’s natural powers, and a perfectly fuckable body, she is my most profitable captive. She was actually quite easy to acquire, stolen while asleep in her bed ten years after I started Exotique.
From the first moment I smelled her I knew she was special. Her scent drew me in, like a flower that leans toward the sun to bask in its warm rays. My power stirred, like it recognized its equal, urging me to take her for my own. So I did.
Her blood called to me, like a honey bee drawn to fresh pollen. The instant it touched my lips its magical properties were revealed to me. Even now, I groan as I recall my first taste, sitting in this very cave, although it wasn’t as vast as it is now. As her blood flowed through my body, my power surged, thrumming within me, ready to burst if I didn’t let it out. Unable to control the drastic increase in my own magic, I roared and threw out my hands, effectively blasting a hole fifty yards long into the cave. She became my secret source of power; I need her to sustain me like I need the air to breathe.
Twenty years later, I stare at the beautiful female displayed on the screens and watch her step from her shower and towel dry her spectacular body. With her tricolored purple, pink, and blue hair and lavender eyes, she is absolutely stunning. And, she’s all fucking mine.
Tonight, she will be loaded in an armored truck and driven to a session with a vampire whose mind is as perverse as my own. As a repeat customer, he has paid in full for his time with her. I lean back in my chair and watch as she adorns her slave outfit, secures the shackles around her wrists and ankles, and fastens the collar around her neck. I enchant all her restraints myself to subdue her power so she can’t use them in either of her forms. Her powers remain untapped, her abilities still unknown because I keep her magic suppressed.
“Slave Eight is ready for an Enforcer,” I say into the comm on my desk, my voice loud and commanding. I smile, watching while she obeys all the rules like a good little slut. Slipping the blindfold over her beautiful eyes, she faces the wall in her cell and waits for an Enforcer to take her away.
Shivering, I wake to find myself flat on my back, completely naked with only an enchanted collar to wear while I wait for tonight’s Handler to make himself known. Long ago, I learned that my owner embeds the collar and shackles they use to secure me with magic, preventing me from using any powers I might possess. I groan as I test my limbs for mobility, and discover my arms are bound high above my head. I’m not surprised to find my legs are also restrained. I’m spread wide, shackled at the knees and ankles by chains connected on either side of the cold, smooth surface I’m lying on. The position leaves me vulnerable to anyone’s gaze, which, of course, was my Handler’s intention.
An icy chill cuts through me, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my skin, hardening my exposed nipples. The room smells damp, like mildew and old, wet stone. I must be underground. Dungeons are a common place for me to be held captive during my sessions, isolated in the dark and secret spaces of these abhorrent men.
As usual, a blindfold covers my lavender eyes; the binding contract of my purchase agreement that all Handlers must sign stipulates the restriction of my vision. But with my shifter blood, I can rely on my heightened senses and use them to my advantage. At this moment, for example, I hear the sound of a creaking door as someone enters the room. From the putrid scent that invades my nostrils, I can tell he’s a vampire.
Those who purchase me all want the same thing—my blood. It’s like a drug to vampires and shifters alike; it gives them a high, and increases their strength and power. This is my life. Passed around the paranormal community to the highest bidder. A fucking slave. Forever bound and used against my will.
I don’t know where I came from or who my family is. All I have ever known is captivity. When I was a child, my life wasn’t so bad. I lived with an older slave who taught me how to read and write. I learned simple things from her like colors and how to count using my fingers. Back then, my blood was all the Handlers wanted. A simple need, and for the most part, painless to give. With one quick poke of a needle in my arm, my blood would flow and was easily harvested. But as I grew up and my body began to change, so did their ideas of how to use me.
Fucking monsters. I hate these males. Every. Single. One.
On good days they only want my blood and the power it brings, but other times their intentions turn much more sinister. The shifters, most often, are known for these specific dark desires. They come alone or in groups, night after night, forcing me into precarious and degrading positions, restrained and helpless while they use my body any way they see fit. Sometimes, when I’ve had enough of their shit, I fight them—I thrash against the chains holding me down, spit and bite, cry out slurs and obscenities. But these sick and twisted males usually just tell me how beautiful or gorgeous I am when I writhe beneath the chains. They get off on watching me struggle.
I’m a unique combination of Succubus and the dying race of Phoenix, which bestowed me with physical characteristics most find desirable in either form. When human, I have long, wavy, multicolored hair that skims my waist when I stand. It’s pale purple near my head, lightens to a soft pink in the middle, and transitions to sky blue at the tips. Other than the hair growing on my head, my body is smooth like a baby.
At 5’4’’, I’m of average height for a human female, or so I’ve been told, and have a petite build. My body boasts generous curves in the ass and breast department, which has never worked out well for me. It’s just one more part of me to be desired and abused by Handlers. Years of captivity have kept my skin a milky white, another attribute my owners also fancy, because my porcelain skin displays the marks from their dark implements.
Footsteps stir me from my musing, and fear starts to weave its icy tendrils through my body when the vampire walks further into the room. I recognize his vile scent as he gets closer; he has purchased me before so I know what to expect of him, the devices he likes to play with, and how he likes to fuck. Part of me feels relieved, because I can mentally prepare. Dread fills the other half of me, anticipating the severe pain mixed with pleasure. My unique heritage grants me fast healing abilities, so nothing he does to me will cause permanent damage. This is my curse, because my Handlers know this and never hold back.
His footsteps on the floor echo against the walls as he slowly makes his way over. My body stiffens as he gets closer with every purposeful step. He growls, stopping next to me. Imagining him taking in my naked, bound body, my nerves fire and I start to tremble. I have a love-hate relations
hip with these sessions, and the bastard knows it.
To keep me a weak and dependent slave, I’m not fed often, but being half succubus, I can feed on the release of others and consume their pleasure for my own nourishment. And right now, I’m fucking starving. Just how he wants me.
I catch his harsh breathing on my right and tense when he leans down, burying his face in the nook between my neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. Through many sessions over the past several years, I have learned my scent is intoxicating and unique to each individual, smelling different to each one; my aroma often ignites their desire before anything else.
Snaking his tongue along my skin, the vampire traces the veins in my neck and breathes me in. I gasp when he bites me with no warning, fangs sinking into my flesh as he drinks my addictive blood, kickstarting his high.
“Ahhh,” he says, releasing me after a few gulps.
With a single icy finger, he traces from the hollow of my collar bones, down between my breasts, and past my belly button to my smooth slit, sending chills down my spine. Using his other hand, he spreads my pussy lips wide. I gasp in surprise when he taps lightly on my clit a few times before shoving a finger deep into my unprepared center and roughly fucks me with it.
A scream tears from my throat at the intrusion, and I pull on my chains in a feeble attempt to get away from his touch.
He chuckles deeply, relishing the sight of my struggle. “Aww, the poor, helpless slut is trying to get away. You know you can’t escape me.”
His words drip with disdain while he continues to pump his finger in and out of me. “This gorgeous body is restrained and exposed just for me. Every inch of you is vulnerable, every hole available. You’re completely at my mercy. Unfortunately for you I’m not feeling particularly merciful today.”
He removes his finger with agonizing slowness, then the wet sounds of his tongue licking my essence from his skin reach my ears. His hot breath tickles between my thighs when he inhales my scent. A sharp pinch rips a shriek from my lips as he bites me again on my inner thigh.
I groan when his finger returns to play with my entrance, and wasting no time, he begins fucking me again while devouring my blood. After a few swallows, he releases my leg and slithers his tongue out to lap at my clit, the immediate and direct contact making me squirm.
“Stop! Please!” I beg, but it’s no use. This vampire will use me as he sees fit—that’s what he paid for, after all.
“Silence!” he yells at me and removes his finger to slap my pussy with his hand.
A yelp escapes me when his hand connects.
“I paid for this pussy and your blood, not your fucking mouth.” He spanks repeatedly between my legs until I cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.
As exposed as I am, every one of his skillful slaps lands on my clit, which is now swollen and aching. My succubus stirs, loving the attention, but as usual my phoenix retreats into the back of my mind.
His footsteps make their way up towards my head again. “A fucking whore like you should be seen, not heard. Lucky for me, I have a way to shut you up.” He pinches my nipple hard, causing me to scream out in pain, but he just muffles my cries by shoving a ball gag into my mouth. He quickly fastens it to something on either side of my head to hold it in place.
I hate these fucking things, they make my jaw ache from the stretch. While my mouth tries to adjust to its size, I can hear him tinkering around. The jingle of a familiar chain sounds in my ears, and anxiety spreads through my body, tingling my nipples. I know what he's holding. He's used them many times before.
The ominous sound of metal snapping against metal pulls a whimper from my throat, my body shivers in fear, and tears burn my eyes. The vampire starts tweaking my nipples hard, pulling and twisting, grazing them with his sharp fangs while I struggle against the restraints and grunt around the gag. He grabs hold of my right breast firmly and swirls his tongue around my areola before sinking his fangs into me once again at the top of my breast. My cries of pain only encourage him to continue, and he drinks deeply before retracting his fangs.
He repeatedly flicks my nipple, ensuring its hardness before he places the clamp on it, sending a sharp, piercing pain through the tender skin.
I can’t help but cry out in response. My heart rate increases, and my breathing escalates when the chain attached to the nipple clamp jingles. I squeeze my eyes shut behind the blindfold and brace myself for the pain that I know is coming when he clamps my other side.
My Handler gives the chain a few light tugs, testing its strength, and I arch off the hard surface trying to get away from the pain. He palms my left breast, kneading it before tracing around my areola with his chilly fingers. My nipple hardens from the icy attention. Again, he bites me, this time where my pink areola ends and my pale skin begins. The ball gag serves its purpose, muffling my screams of agony and terror.
I fucking hate vampires and their damn fangs.
The closer he bites to my nipples, the more my fright grows. He knows this and revels in my fear. He has pierced them with his sharp fangs before, and the pain was so severe I almost passed out. He drinks deeply, swallowing my nipple. I shriek again, arching off the slab, but it only serves to sink his fangs in deeper.
He drinks for a few minutes, groaning in pleasure while the power in my blood surges through him. I start to feel the weakness from blood loss before he pulls off of my breast and concentrates on playing with the torture devices surrounding my nipples. The chain linking the clamps jingles when he slaps my other breast before sinking his fangs into it. I howl, tears soak the blindfold and run down the sides of my face.
“So fucking hot,” he says, tugging repeatedly on the chain linking my nipples together, the movement making my breasts bounce and increases the pain so severely that I can’t help but whimper.
I scream out every time he pulls on the chain, which only aids in turning him on. He does it over and over. My pain is his pleasure.
He leans in, and the evidence of his arousal presses against me. He pulls, I shriek, his cock jumping in response. My skin erupts in goosebumps from the damp cold of the room and a whimper escapes my lips.
His level of excitement is evident in his voice. “You look delicious when you're tied down for me like this.” He traces his fingers along my skin. “Helpless and exposed, naked and cold, those tiny bumps all over your body. Even the pretty pink skin around your tortured little buds has goosebumps.” He leans down to lick both of my clamped nipples, gives my pussy a slap, then pulls on the chain again.
I mewl around the gag in my discomfort. It still hurts, but my slutty succubus thrives on attention, and I feel my pussy clench.
My breath stutters when I hear the rustle of him removing his clothes: a mixture of excitement and fear coursing through me. My succubus prowls just under my skin, thirsting for a snack, but my phoenix, as always, remains silent. Trailing his hands up my shackled arms, he unhooks them from above my head and reattaches them near my waist. My shoulders ache and my wrists burn, chafing from the friction of the iron. He removes the ball gag, and I work my jaw around a few times to relieve the tension.
Quick steps make their way to my feet. The vampire’s body presses against my inner thighs while his hands run up and down my legs. He stills for a minute, ramping up my anxiety, before he removes the restraints from my knees. He takes hold of my hips in a bruising grip and yanks me down to him, my back sliding on the smooth surface. Holding my thighs down, he spreads me open even further, giving himself one hell of a view.
I hear him groan out his approval right before he starts to devour my pussy, licking my exposed clit again, amplifying that tingle of arousal I felt before.
Why does this have to feel so fucking good? Dammit! I shouldn’t enjoy this.
Over and over, he licks and sucks, my traitorous body reacting to his ministrations, even though I don't want it to.
“This fucking pussy—tastes just as delicious—as your blood,” he growls between licks.
&nb
sp; I groan when my body tenses with my impending orgasm. His moans send vibrations of pleasure straight through me. I try to close my thighs, wanting to fight the desire, but between the restraints and his hands, I’m held firm. Having no other choice, I relent and give in to the sensations, my body trembling in anticipation.
Just a few more licks, and I’m there. With a speed only a vampire could achieve, he flicks my clit with his tongue so fast I almost can’t take it. Just as I’m about to come, he pulls my throbbing bud between his lips and sucks, forcing me to scream out my pleasure. He continues his assault on my clit, and I ride out my climax, my exposed pussy now soaked with my release. He takes one final long lick the length of my slit. I hear him gulp, swallowing my juices, before standing back up.
Pliant in the waning waves of my orgasm, he grips my hips firmly with both hands, and in one movement, thrusts his entire cock inside me. I moan in pleasure and pain, my body adjusting to his size.
“Look at you, my little whore, shaking with the pleasure I gave you. You tell me to stop, that you don’t want this, but your body betrays your true desires,” the vampire mocks while he fucks me with ruthless abandon, grunting and pounding into my flesh.
The wet sounds of our fucking reverberate around the room. My breasts bounce, causing the clamps to jingle, flicking my sore nipples up and down. I grunt with each movement, the pain frying my nerve endings.
“I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of your body, your blood, or this delicious fucking pussy.”
From his heavy breathing and the moans he’s making, I can tell he’s getting close. My succubus prances under my skin in excitement. Even with the enchanted collar on I can still consume pleasure, and she knows we get to feed soon. A piercing sensation stings my neck when he sinks his fangs into me, drinking and fucking me at the same time. The bite must be laced with venom, because I orgasm instantly, and I scream out in ecstasy. My traitorous body clenches around his cock, bringing him closer to his climax.
Bound For Blood (Feathers & Fire Book 1) Page 2
