He pulls off my neck and grabs my shoulders, his frigid fingers digging into my skin as he fucks me with abandon. With one final deep thrust, the vampire roars out his climax, and I feed on it, absorbing all his pleasure while he spills into me. My beasts surge beneath my skin, coming to life after gaining strength from feeding. But, with the enchantments they remain trapped. I can feel their claws painfully scraping at my insides, begging for freedom.
Without warning, he rips the clamps off my aching nipples, and I howl in agony, tears streaming down my face once more. My abused buds throb, pulsing in waves of burning pain as blood rushes back into them. With a growl, the vampire collapses on top of me and sinks his teeth back into my neck. He drinks his fill, taking everything I have left to give until he buys me again.
Even with my healing abilities, I can’t fight against rapid blood loss, and I start to weaken. He fondles me while I lay there helpless, tweaking my sore nipples, stroking my throbbing clit, sucking on my neck. Unable to move away as the sensations overwhelm me, I lose consciousness, grateful to pass out into the welcoming arms of darkness.
Begrudgingly, I wake up and peel back my tired eyelids. I let out a sigh of relief when I see that I’m back in my room and on my bed. Lifting up my thin, bleached blanket, I discover that I’ve completely healed from last night's session. My brief happiness gives way to loneliness when I take in the stark surroundings of my windowless, cinderblock room.
Kept in isolation, I have no one to talk to and nothing to occupy my time, beside the brief moments I’m allowed to use my eReader. I’m rewarded with reading time for my compliance, but my anger gets the best of me all too often. Instead of getting lost in books, I tend to get lost in my own warped mind instead.
It’s maddening.
A locked metal door is directly across from my bed. The door has a tiny opening in the middle where food and other items are passed through, and a small, tinted window sits at the top. I can’t see out of the window, but I know others can see in.
On my right is one of a few blessings in this shithole, a private bathroom with a toilet, sink, and its own stand up shower. I cringe when I look to my left and see the devices indicative of my captivity: blindfolds, shackles, ropes, and chains.
A circle two feet in diameter rests in the floor in front of the restraint wall, which raises up from the ground like a platform. Enforcers secure me to it when bringing in potential buyers to evaluate me for purchase. Attached to the circle are shackles to bind my feet. A set of chains descend from the ceiling above the platform to secure my wrists. I am always bound and blindfolded when potential Handlers want to come look at me, strung up for their viewing pleasure, wearing nothing but my collar and a skimpy outfit.
Sometimes Handlers want me in my shifter form. Enforcers supply them with a serum that, when injected, forces me to shift for them. This is the only time I am allowed to shift into my animal. She is strong and powerful, and she's fucking pissed at the life we live.
Only certain types of Handlers ask for me in this form, usually ones with more twisted intentions. When I’m presented to a new Handler, I’m always secured by the enchanted restraints, so escape is never an option. A frequent Handler of mine has told me that my unique combination of succubus and phoenix makes me very powerful. I’ve never been able to test this myself, but my Owner must fear what I am capable of to go to such lengths just to secure me, even when my potential powers still remain unknown.
The automatic shower turns on, and I rush out of bed to wash off the grime still covering my body from last night’s session with the vampire. After drying off, I run my finger through my long, colorful hair and walk over to my bed. That’s when I see it. My heart stops in my chest the moment I lay my eyes on the outfit waiting for me. “Outfit” is too generous a word for this tiny scrap of material. It barely covers my tits, or even my slit for that matter. But if I don’t put it on, my insolence will only earn me a punishment.
I groan with the knowledge of what this outfit means. Today must be what I call “parade day.” Potential Handlers parade through my room, escorted by Enforcers to examine me and see if I’m worth the exorbitant amount of money it takes to purchase me for just one night. Well, I suppose they’re not just here for me. There are other captives here as well, kept in their own cells for use by potential buyers. I hear them from time to time on parade day. The rustle of chains, the crying, the pleading.
Calling the piece that covers my breasts a bikini top would be a liberal description of the fabric. It’s a sheer lavender, woven with silver strands, so it shimmers when I move. The small triangles barely contain my plump nipples, which poke obscenely at the material, leaving the rest of my ample chest exposed. A set of ties wrap around my neck like a halter top, while another set wrap around my back, tying into a bow behind me.
The tiny panties don’t cover much. Made out of the same shimmering material, the bottoms are basically a thong. The sides run high, tying into little bows over my hips, accentuating my round ass. The outline of my slit is also obvious through the clingy material. Three sparkly amethyst jewels surrounded by silver filigree adorn the three bows on my outfit. All these ties and bows serve to give me the appearance of a damned present for potential buyers to unwrap.
I’m given a robe to wear over the outfit, which has three more bows to secure the front together. The purpose of the robe is to prolong the unveiling of my body to the potential Handlers, revealing me in a slow, sensual manner to heighten their anticipation. However, like all extras here at Exotique, the removal of my robe comes with a cost.
Parade day also requires me to wear shoes. Strappy silver heels cover my feet, the straps crossing around my calves several times in the same fashion as my top. The straps end at my knee, tied with bows. That’s right—more fucking bows.
As required, I dress and stand in the center of the circle on the floor, facing the restraint wall with my collar secured and the blindfold tied over my eyes.
Once in position, the door to my room opens, and one of the Enforcers comes in. I recognize him by his smell, an obnoxious combination of sweat and cologne. This Enforcer enjoys a more “hands on” approach than others, often taking liberties with my body once I’m strung up. After reaching me, he grabs my wrists and brings them over my head to bind the shackles to the chains that hang from the ceiling. But today I don’t feel very cooperative.
The hell with it.
Swinging my elbow behind me, I connect with his rib cage.
“You little bitch,” he grits out as I reach for my blindfold. A prick in my neck stops me in my tracks, and I immediately begin to feel woozy. The bastard injected me with something to subdue me.
“Fuck,” I say before falling to my knees.
“Serves you right, slut,” he taunts, gripping my hair and jerking my head back. “Don’t you ever forget who’s in charge again.” He shoves my head forward, and I topple to the ground. Static crinkles, then I hear, “Need back up in cell eight.”
Shortly after, a pair of footsteps enter my room followed by the pungent odor of another Enforcer. This one smells like alcohol and dirty pussy.
“It looks like someone wanted to be a bad girl today,” he says chuckling.
I try to force my lips to work so I can spew a, “Fuck you,” but the serum is too strong. All I can do is lie here on the floor and hope they don’t hurt me too much.
“Come on. Up you go.” Strong hands grip me around my waist, and I’m hauled to my feet. Together, they secure my wrists above me and shackle my feet to the floor. I hang there limp, unable to move, as he raises the platform off the floor.
The temperature is lowered in the room, instantly cooling it. The sick fucks like to use the cold as punishment sometimes, sucking the warmth from my body. Shivers set in as the chill seeps into my skin.
“You wanted to be a bad girl? Well, I like bad girls,” the first one says while untying my robe. It seems the Enforcers have decided to take some pleasure for themselves now that I�
��m restrained. One kisses down my neck, and I struggle to suppress a gag. The other licks in between the swell of my tits and tweaks my nipples, which harden instantly. “Now that’s a good girl,” he coos as he pats my pussy. Helpless and unable to defend myself, I can only hang there as a finger slips inside my panties and rubs up and down my slit. He sinks his finger inside me and swirls it around before removing it.
Rage surges within my limp body. I’d break every finger on his grimy fucking hands if I could.
“Mmmm,” he hums. I can hear the wet sounds of him licking his finger. “So fucking good.”
The other Enforcer pulls my panties to the side and buries his tongue in my pussy. He moans before sucking on and biting my clit.
Bastards.
“Delicious,” he says after he pulls his mouth off me. One of them fixes my panties and spanks my pussy before tying the robe back together. “Think twice before you misbehave, slut. Next time we won’t be so lenient with your punishment.”
“It was fun hanging out with you,” he chuckles before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him and his cohort. My wrists ache and my shoulders throb from my inability to support my weight. I regret my decision to lash out, my impulsiveness getting me into trouble yet again.
Damn this sedative.
I wonder how much they gave me? How long will this loss of control over my body last? Hopefully it comes back before the parade begins. It’s bad enough that I’m restrained. My voice is the only thing they can’t control when I’m bound. And right now? I don’t even have that to help me.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been hanging here. Time is difficult for me to measure, but by the lack of feeling in my fingers and toes, it must be hours. I flex my fingers, trying to regain some feeling back in them. I try to move my limbs and find some control of my body has returned. My lips feel thick from the numbness, a combination of drug side effects and the extreme cold in the room. Knowing the parade still looms in my future sends a wave of uncontrollable shivers through my body and peaks my anxiety.
The door creaks open, and my spine stiffens. A variety of smells drift toward me, overwhelming my senses that, thankfully, have not been dulled by the drugs. I recognize several scents immediately—vampire, incubus, bear shifter, and even a group of humans. A new scent imprints upon me as well. One that’s unfamiliar to me.
Males enter my room. Some come by themselves and others in purchasing groups. As I am spun around to face them, I tense, knowing thirsty eyes are drinking in my robe-covered body. They can’t touch me, they are not allowed to do so during the parade, but they can smell me. Over and over, footsteps make their way over to me while they take turns sniffing me. Their hot breath puffs against my skin when they lean in close. Their cravings for me begin as soon as they inhale my scent. Something about the way I smell draws them to me.
If the prospective purchasers choose to pay a sizeable fee, the Enforcers strip off my robe and reveal my barely clothed body to them. The fee is in place to eliminate amateur buyers, allowing my future Handlers more time with me. Before each new male or group comes in, I am once again spun to face the wall, always presented with my back to them. My theory is the Enforcers are trying to utilize my smell, using my alluring aroma to draw the potentials in.
I’ve regained control of my body when the final group enters my room.
“Here she is gentlemen,” an Enforcer announces. “In the flesh, as promised.”
I recognize their scent as the one I couldn’t previously identify. Concentrating on the individual differences, I determine there are three males in this group, their distinct scents of earth, fire, and metal.
“I can’t believe you have her here,” one of them says, his voice smooth and sure.
The three take in deep breaths and walk over to me, drinking in my scent.
“Her scent makes my mouth water,” one with a deep voice rumbles, while leaning into the crook of my neck. He stands so close, his hot breath burns against my skin. “Turn her,” he demands, his voice radiating power and dominance. He abandons my neck, and I hear the sound of his retreating footsteps.
The Enforcer spins me around with practiced slowness to face the dominant males, and I hear a low growl that causes my fear to spike.
“Remove her robe, now!” he orders.
“There is an additional fee for her exposure, sirs,” the Enforcer replies.
“Don’t insult me by quoting your miniscule fees. I don't care how much it costs! Disrobe her! Now!”
I hate this fucking part and a sob escapes my lips. The bows on my robe are untied one at a time until it falls to the ground at my feet, revealing my barely covered body. Without further warning, the heat from their bodies surrounds me, radiating against my exposed skin. They converge on me, gathering as close to me as they can get without touching. Their growls of approval reverberate around me.
“Goddamn, she's hot,” one of them growls as their arousal permeates the air. “I need to touch her.”
“You know the rules, touching isn’t allowed,” the Enforcer says. “But because of who you are, I’m sure Boris would permit it. Briefly. Her clothes stay on.”
My heart drops. This kind of special permission has never been given before. I bite my tongue and squeeze my lips shut against the wave of profanities that want to spew from my mouth. I don’t need to garner another punishment; my numb fingers and toes serve as a constant reminder of my previous indiscretion.
“Allow me to reposition her for better access.”
My heart races, my chest heaves. Reposition? That can’t be good for me. My anxiety builds with the knowledge that I will be moved into an even more vulnerable position for better access. As if binding me wasn’t enough.
“No!” I shout at them, unable to contain myself. I bare my teeth and thrash against my restraints.
Chuckles echo around the room at my reaction.
The Enforcer turns a crank that slides my legs open, out past my shoulders. I hear the distinct sound of the chains attached to my arms retracting. My arms pull up tight on either side of my head.
“She’s as gorgeous as I’ve imagined her to be,” the deep-voiced male says. “Just look at her, brothers—perfect tits, round ass, and smooth, milky skin. She’s so fucking sexy hanging from the ceiling like that.”
“God damn, I don’t know about you guys, but I need this girl,” the third one says as they approach me. I inhale their scents, but still can’t figure out what they are.
“Don't fucking touch me!” I yell at them, my anxiety and hatred no longer allowing me to keep my mouth shut.
One of them leans in close, and his smell of fire singes my nostrils. A hand squeezes my throat, asserting his dominance. I gasp for air as his other hand travels low, cupping my pussy and tracing my slit with one large finger.
I whimper when he whispers into my ear. The commanding tenor of his deep voice terrifies me.
“Don’t touch you, hmm? Consider this an introduction to your future.” He taps on my clit. “This pussy—is mine.” Using both of his large hands, he fondles my breasts, squeezing them, testing their weight.
My traitorous nipples harden at his touch.
“These perky tits—mine.” With a growl, he traces a line down my neck, then grips my throat again. “Your powerful blood—mine.” He squeezes a bit harder.
I choke, trying to take a breath.
“Why are your nipples so hard, little girl? Do they need some attention, too?” They chuckle, and he leans in even closer to my ear. “Soon, I am going to own every inch of this hot body, little girl, and when I do, there won’t be a spot on you that I won’t know thoroughly, intimately. I intend to make you mine forever, and there’s nothing anyone can fucking do about it.”
His? Fuck that.
“I’d sooner die then belong to a bastard like you,” I choke out before sinking my teeth into his face.
He roars and lets go of my throat to wrench my cheeks apart, forcing my jaws to unclench from his ski
n. I expect him to assert his wrath on me, but he surprises me by chuckling instead.
“She does have some fire in her doesn’t she, brothers?”
They laugh too and agree with him.
“I do love a good fight, little one. I’d much rather watch you struggle underneath me as I fuck you senseless than have you lay there docile and subordinate. I expect you will give me many reasons to punish your gorgeous body, and if I’m honest, I’m very much looking forward to it.” He grips my chin, holding my face still, commanding my attention. “Your owner will hear about your—outburst. I anticipate the consequences of attacking a potential Handler will be—severe.”
I blink back the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes.
“Touch her, brothers,” he demands. “Feel the perfection that will one day be ours.”
Hands are everywhere—squeezing my ass, fondling my tits, exploring my slit. Not a place on my body has escaped their greedy fingers by the time they finish. Heavy breathing echoes in the room, and the smell of their arousal grows stronger.
“Time’s up, King Malachi. Do you want her or not?”
King? King of what? Oh god! I just bit the face of a king.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes. I’ve been punished before. Memories of the degrading and painful sessions send tremors of fear through me.
“Not today,” he responds to the Enforcer.
The deep-voiced male, who I have learned is a “king” turns my face close to his.
“I have plans for you, little one. Starting with you kneeling at my feet, worshipping my cock with your mouth,” he rasps in a hushed voice. “But, I can’t take you just yet.
He releases my face and walks away. “Until we meet again, little one,” he calls from across the room as they exit, closing the door behind them.
I consider the king’s strange words, but thoughts of the evil presence lurking in his dungeon, just waiting to torture me overwhelms my fragmented mind. I can’t even begin to fathom the implications of the king’s statement.
Bound For Blood (Feathers & Fire Book 1) Page 3
