Snow Covered Moon

by L M Adams

  We feed on desire, so the more we can create and milk from a slave the greater our feeding is. It maximizes our return almost doubling the power we receive when we feed from one who is trained with a pleasure ring.

  It trains slaves to hold our power within them, and once they learn to hold our power within them, we can pour more into them. It slowly turns all of their Chakras into mini power plants, tuning their energy to our power frequency, turning it all into lust. The more they learn to hold, the more we can feed, as long as their Chi is well fed by their own traditional means, food, blood, whatever a specific supernatural needs.

  I look at her, and hold out my hand; she drops the torture device. The ring sends out a wave of magic, tasting me. There’s a female version, it’s a loop that pierces a woman’s hood. I had my very own. Even Sheba took her time using it on me. It is not something one does when first breaking a slave.

  Jack is nowhere near ready for this and she knows it. It’s a test. I know, I know.

  “Jack, stand.” I order and get up from the chair, turning to him.

  I want to whisper words of encouragement, apologize, something! But I can do none of those things, not now… not here. I reach down to his leather pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them quickly, his dick springs free, hard and oozing with need. He hisses through his teeth.

  “When you learn to control your lust, the ring will loosen, it won’t hurt as badly. The faster you learn, the less it will hurt, Jack.”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  He thinks he understands. How foolish you are Jack.

  I grab his penis and slip the ring on without another word, I push it to the base of his cock, and watch as the golden metal turns black and tightens around him. He falls to his knees, and then to his side. His screams are delicious. I throw back my head drinking in his pain.

  “Please take it off, Mistress. Please take it off.” I look back down at him; his member begins to turn purple. I don’t respond.

  “Let’s have dinner and then we will come back and have more fun with him.” She turns to one of the guards.

  “Take him to the girls, you can uncuff him, tell them to prepare him for my entertainment,” Sheba orders.

  As she walks by Jack, I feel her dump more power into him, no finesse, no gentle wave, just a power dump. Jack convulses on the floor, his body locked in misery. He may die if he doesn’t learn to control it, or at best his brain will turn to mush, the combination of our powers will burn out his synapses in hours. He may never be able to heal from the damage. He is a Blood Lord, he shall heal. Stay focused. This was a really stupid fucking plan.

  I can only pray that he is strong enough, be strong Jack, be strong. I turn away from the man I once thought I’d marry laying on the floor and follow Sheba out of the room.

  “I’m not surprised you’ve returned, I knew you would one day.”

  “Of course, Mistress, I only wanted away from the Kindred, not from you. I didn’t want to leave you.”

  We walk back down the carpeted hallway, and past the door to the stairs, I’m mapping everything in my head. Everything from this point on will be a life and death decision, for me, for Jack, for Big Mike. Reapers aren’t really in the business of saving. I prefer to stick to the business of killing. But here I am nonetheless.

  “I know, that fool Acastus doubted my ability to control you. It was the Elders fault for sending you home. Who put those awful ideas into your head to leave me?”

  “Tabari, Mistress.”

  She hums in her throat agreeing. “I thought so; you are so weak, you just do whatever anyone tells you.”

  “Yes Mistress, I should not have left you. I’ve missed you.”

  “I know, little love, I know. Probably have let all of your skills go to waste. What have you been doing in this human world?”

  “I’ve been working in a convenience store.” She stops in front of a heavy oak door and turns to me with a look of pure disdain.

  “Jaevia, you are a protégé of one of the oldest Succubae lines in the history of all the worlds. You should have done better.”

  “I’m sorry to have disappointed you. It’s taken some time to find anyone worthy to even attempt to train.”

  She nods her head opening the door. “Yes I have to agree, it’s been slim pickings since I’ve been here. They break too fast; I barely get a chance to have any fun. No one has held out as long as you.”

  I step into the room behind her, there’s a long, gorgeous black table, filled with food in the middle of the room. Four black high-backed chairs, one place is set.

  There are three women and two men, all naked and collared. They all have passion rings on, the ring squeezes the men’s cocks painfully, the hood pierced on the woman, sending horrid amounts of pain through their sex as well. They are all humans, they are all thralls. Their eyes glow violet, the power signature of Sheba. There is no will left in them, their brains mush. They stand quietly, waiting to serve their Mistress.

  “Fix another place for our guest, Mistress Jaevia. You will give her the same respect and obedience you give me.”

  A chorus of “Mistress” rings out.

  One woman, I assume is the newest and so the lowest ranked in the slave hierarchy, makes a place for me. She is the one that must jump first to every request. When Sheba wants to hurt something, she is the one that will bear the torment, so it will go until Sheba acquires another slave, or someone is demoted. I know, I always was at the bottom of the hierarchy. Other slaves had the right to abuse me, and they did.

  Everyone was my Master, everyone was my Mistress.

  Sheba and I sit down across from one another. Two slave girls step up, serving us.

  “I’m sure you are wondering what I’m doing here.” Sheba says as they fill our plates with meats and vegetables cooked to perfection.

  “It would not be my place to question you, Mistress,” I say, taking a bite of the tender juicy beef.

  Sheba loves to gloat, she will tell me everything as long as I don’t ask for any information.

  “So, you have remembered your training.” She smiles.

  “Well, after you so unceremoniously left, I decided to take a break from the palace and visit human Earth. Although I started in L.A. Wonderful weather.” She laughs, I smile and nod my head agreeing although I’ve never been there.

  “Things are changing, I know you never noticed anything happening around you. Too focused on being a Reaper, too stupid to understand what real power is.” She sets down her fork with a clink.

  “All of you sickening excuses for slaves, find knives and slit your wrists,” she orders as easily as if she was telling them to pull up a chair.

  “Mistress,” comes the chorus of her slaves. Every one of them rush to find knives, they don’t make a sound as they cut deeply into their flesh. Each one stands there as their life blood seeps out of them into the carpeted floor. The slave girl that served me is the first to collapse, dead. They all fall. I don’t take my eyes away from Sheba, the thuds of their bodies sounding far off.

  I don’t say a word, I take another bite of my perfectly cooked beef, all while looking the evil bitch in her eyes.

  She did all of this, killed four people, to show me what true power is. But all she really did to these poor souls is grant them a final reprieve. No one wants to be a slave to a succubus.

  “Oh Jaevia, I thought you may have gone soft on me.”

  “You trained me well, Mistress.”

  “I did, I did.” She smiles at her accomplishment, driving every ounce of emotion, of empathy out me; she’d done that.

  She pours herself a glass of wine and sits back in her chair relaxing. I do the same. The test is over. I am back in the fold.

  “The power of the Kindred is coming to an end, there will be a new order to things. I have chosen to get ahead of the tide. With the help of some radical witches I met in L.A., we’ve been trying to create supernaturals loyal only to me. No more moon whore and wolf bitch and blood boy,�
�� she huffs and takes another sip of her wine.

  More power… always more power.

  “Admirable goal,” I respond.

  “Ah, you doubt my ability to do it? I am close. Did you know the Amarok is able to live without the blessing of the Wolf Mother for long periods of time?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I’m not surprised, you’ve always been a little ignorant. I tried to beat it out of you. Anyway, we need to find out how the Amarok can turn on and off his werewolf genealogy with or without the blessing of the Wolf Mother. Did you know most werewolves that are not part of a pack can’t really change at will? They are beholden to the moon, and most can only change when she is full. See it’s the Wolf Mother through the Amarok’s power that gives them the ability to choose. I need to be able to turn on their genes without the wolf bitch. I’ve been trying to use human science, magic, everything. But I couldn’t do it without the Amarok. He’s proving to be difficult, so for now I will turn my attentions to the vampires. I’ve tried to get your Blood Lord twice now. I attacked Valentine’s clutch, all hoping to snatch him, I sent a not-wolf to track him. No one brings me results, except you.”

  “Of course, Mistress. If I’d known I would’ve brought him to you much sooner.”

  “It’s all behind us now; honestly, it will be good to have you around again. No one seems to know how to please me anymore.” She smiles behind her glass.

  I know what it means, I know what she’s ordering. I stand up and walk around the table to her side, stepping over two dead bodies to reach her, yet I don’t care, intent on my goal. I kneel beside her chair, breathing in the scent of her, the beauty of being in her presence. She stands and turns the chair to face me.

  I look up at her, my eyes filled with need. “Let me serve you, Mistress.”

  I reach up slowly, unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down.

  The smell of her, drowns me in pleasure. I want to thank her for letting me serve her again.

  She sits down and opens her thighs, she’s completely bare. Her clitoris already peeking from between her lips, hard and full of blood, engorged with anticipation. She really did miss me. Look at how she’s ready for me. Look at how she needs my mouth to please her.

  I bury my face in her wetness, licking and suckling her bud of nerves gently. She grabs the back of my head, grinding into my face. I moan in pleasure. Her juices flow into my mouth, down my chin. I cry, feeling a failure for letting even a drop go to waste.

  I grab her thighs, clutching her to me. I need her, my goddess I need her. Please let her find me worthy. I bring her quickly to her peak, and as she crashes over the precipice, she floods me with her power, bringing me with her, I scream my pleasure into her wet pussy, tasting of oranges and lemons. I drink her essence down. My entire body shudders with the most powerful climax I’ve felt since I left her. No one can bring me like her. Not in all the worlds.

  “I don’t deserve it.” I cry as my body explodes into particles of light. “Please Mistress… I don’t deserve it.”

  I lay my head on her thigh as she pets my hair and drinks her wine. Tears begin to fall from my eyes. My gut hollows out. I’ll never be able to repay her for her kindness. I left her without a word and look at how she welcomes me back. Look at how she loves me.

  “Please hurt me. Please!”

  “And what pain could I cause you that would wipe away your sins?”

  “I’ll find a way! I’ll find a way to make it right.”

  “I know, my little love… I know.”

  I love her so much, no one can understand how my heart ached with leaving her. How often I’ve hated myself for betraying her. Can evil love?

  It can love other evil.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  When certain lines are crossed

  “Come, we need to train your Blood Lord.” Sheba tells me after letting me cry gently on her thigh. I nod my head and pull back, wiping the traces of my shame from my face, both the tears and her essence.

  “Mistress, thank you,” I say, meaning it from the bottom of my core.

  “You’re welcome, little love, it’s good to have you back.”

  We gather ourselves and leave the room full of food, wine, dead bodies, blood, and the smell of sex. She knows how to make one hell of a cocktail.

  She leads me downstairs to a basement, to what I can only assume was once a large cafeteria. It’s now a dungeon, fully equipped. There are cages lining each wall, every one of them full. A mix of Bâtardi and humans; the cages are too small to either stand up in or lay out flat. Moans of pain, whispers begging, crying out for mercy, surround me. They won’t find it in Sheba, they don’t deserve it anyway.

  There’s a long table filled with instruments of pain, I know them all, intimately. Both as the tortured and the torturer. Whips, crops, all kinds, tipped with small silver balls. Dildos huge and of unnatural proportions. Clamps, chains, collars, gags. It’s a fucking dungeon surplus.

  In the center of the room, hangs Jack from the ceiling. Arms cuffed above him. His naked and beaten body gently sways. His head hangs, dark brown hair falling forward shielding his face. His cock is an angry red; it’s a good sign, he’s been able to calm his lust to loosen the ring at least a little. I’m sure the pain is still excruciating.

  Sheba walks over to him and slaps the engorged phallus. Jack jerks, throwing back his head, screaming. So much pain, yet still there must be more. You must hurt him, if you want to save him.

  It’s the thing I keep telling myself, instead of admitting I’m enjoying the things I do to him, that we do to him. Enjoying it or not, I will never forgive myself for what I do. The things I let her do. How aroused I get. When she starts using the cattle prod, the other captives turn away in their cages trying to block out what is going to happen to them very soon.

  “Beg for more!” Sheba demands.

  “Hurt me! Hurt me more!” Jack’s voice is raw and scratching, it breaks, strained from the sheer amount of screaming we’ve forced from his body.

  “You were right, he is a pain slut. Well, what doesn’t he like?”

  Goddess above, I tell her the entire list he’d given me earlier, I tell her everything that will hurt him the most. I keep his distaste for succubus power to myself. He can’t take more of that. For hours we abuse him, for hours we taunt him. He rushes to our every command, no matter how demeaning. I do my best to temper my own abuse, but even that is not enough to keep his psyche intact. He’s nothing more than beast without thought now.

  There are certain lines that once crossed, nothing can be the same. I passed that line with Jack twelve hours ago.

  A knock comes at the door, Sheba turns to it, her face is splattered a little with his blood. We both are.

  “Come in,” she commands.

  A short man with a lab coat walks in. He’s a balding, middle aged, white human. He has that nerdy mad scientist look about him.

  “Yes?” she asks impatiently. Sheba does not like to be disturbed while training.

  “Madame, are you ready to try again with the wolf?”

  She sighs heavily. “I am running behind. Jaevia, I’m sorry I need to do some work. How about we let Jack rest for a few hours and go see about the wolf? I understand you are friends. Maybe you will be able to get him to change on command.”

  “Whatever you will, Mistress,” I agree immediately.

  I look at Jack’s body lying on the white tiled floor, his blood in stark contrast. His right eye is swollen shut, bottom lip is busted; there are bruises and cuts everywhere. There’s blood from other places, where Sheba has torn into him without mercy, laughing gleefully as he begged for it to stop. His pleas only goaded her on. I turned away as my body came from the sight of it. I thought not looking would stop my reaction. It hadn’t.

  What have I done?

  “I’ll get someone to clean him up and make sure he has company for the night. You would like that wouldn’t you, Jack?”

  “Mistress,” a voic
e sounding nothing like Jack says.

  “What did you hate the worst?” she asks, curious.

  “The cattle prod to my testicles, Mistress.” His voice cracks as he cries… “I hate that the most.”

  “On your back,” She orders.

  I know what’s coming next, I know it. She holds the cattle prod to his most sensitive area. When he tries to roll away, she has two guards hold him down and digs the prod in harder.

  “Aren’t I kind? Giving you your favorite thing? Aren’t I kind?!”

  “Yes Mistress!”

  “Beg for your favorite thing, Jack. Beg for it, you worthless dog!”

  “Please use the prod on me, use it on me. Mistress please. Give me the prod!” he yells out, voice gone, cracking painfully.

  Of course she is a kind Mistress and so gives him his every request, generously. He begs for his favorite things, the things that hurt him the worst, the things that cost him the most to endure.

  She holds the prod down on his most sensitive area.

  “What are you to Jaevia? What is her plan? Give me the truth and the pain ends now. Look at what she’s done to you. Have your vengeance, tell me her plan. She will be your slave, and I shall tell you all the things that hurt her the worst, I will tell you all of her favorite things.” Her voice is sweet, filled with the promise of rewards, an offer I had not the strength to turn down. No one has ever had the strength to turn her down.

  “I am only slave, everyone is my Master, everyone is my Mistress. It’s all I know, Mistress. It’s all I know, I swear it!”

  She turns to look at me nodding her head and finally lifts the prod from him. We couldn’t tell him, we knew she would ask when he was at his weakest.

  “Then we shall use you as such. I promised you company, your dick will always have the attention it deserves.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.” There is only pain and despair in his voice as he thanks her.

  He’ll never be able to make it through the night, not with the amount of essence coursing through him now. If I’d only had time to train him properly, he would be able to make it until dawn, until the cavalry came. But now I have to get to him no matter the cost. She will break him, and there will be no putting him back together again.