by Cerys du Lys
Aidon’s hand smoothed the way over the flesh of her bottom for a moment, the tender touch of his hand making her shiver. Then he roughly pressed her thighs open, cupping her mound in one hand. Until that moment, she had been unaware of the dull ache between her legs. When he lifted her, bringing her to her knees on the bed, her face pressed against the mattress, his hand reminded her of her throbbing sex with a delicious pressure.
He moved away and she whimpered, wondering what was coming next. She was completely exposed to him now, her red, singing bottom wavering high up in the air. It wasn’t long before he took advantage of it, his hand striking her at the bend of one thigh, hard enough to make her jump. He rubbed there for a moment and then slipped his hand down to part her with his fingers.
“Don’t move.” His instruction was clear and she froze, feeling a thin, hard object sliding in her wetness. His fingers moved, deft and careful, his breath warm against her thigh. The sensitive bud of her sex felt constricted, slowly squeezed by something. “This is weighted. It will feel strange at first.”
She gasped as he moved his hand away and something heavy pulled downward. Too curious to stop herself, she probed her fingers between her own lips to feel something hard clamped around her omi, and several small, round smooth weights hanging from it. Aidon slapped her hand with something, a fast bee-sting feeling and she hissed, pulling away quickly.
“Hands and knees.” He briefly tapped her shoulder with something, and she moved to accommodate him. The weights shifted between her legs, pulling on her sex, and she moaned softly as they swung back and forth, stimulating her omi. She didn’t have long to pay attention to them, though, because Aidon used the crop—it had to be the riding crop from the table—to needle her behind again.
It was a sharp, fast pain that faded less readily as he continued to spank her. Her bottom sang with the sensation and she rocked with it, wincing and moaning at turns. Every movement she made sent the weights between her legs swinging back and forth, tickling her omi. The sweet torture went on and on, as Aidon began switching back and forth between the paddle and the crop, the soft slap and the prickle. There was no consistent pattern, and she trembled in anticipation, wondering which would come next.
Her bottom felt on fire, and the deep throbbing ache between her legs made her breath come fast and her still-clamped nipples burn. She whimpered and twisted and arched as Aidon continued his onslaught, not sure if she was seeking to get away or looking for more. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand any more, he stopped.
“Aidon!” His name left her lips in a gasp when she felt his hard length against her sex. He teased her with the head, slapping at the pink flesh, and then with a low growl, he shoved inside of her. His hands gripped her hips when he pressed deep, rocking her forward as he pulled her into the saddle of his hips. He rolled against her, making circles, forcing the weights beneath her to sway, teasing her omi.
His big hands kneaded her flesh, his thumbs pressing toward the center, parting the deep crevice of her bottom. She gasped and bit her lip when his thumb pressed the puckered rosebud of her behind, made slippery with her juices and their coupling. He didn’t force entry—he just rubbed it in easy turns, the kind his hips continued to make as they rocked together.
“Mine, Sephie.” His tone low, his thumb pressed, slipping inside that dark, virgin hole. Her breath caught at the sensation. “Every part of you. Do you understand?”
She couldn’t think, couldn’t respond. Her body trembled against his, her bursting, blooming sex felt on fire, her nipples ached. His thumb probed a little deeper, forcing her open, and she whimpered, squeezing the muscles tight. Aidon groaned, suddenly slipping out of her. She didn’t have time to even gasp in surprise as he rolled her over, shoving her legs back, and aimed himself again between them. The weights pulling taut on her omi went slack and her aching omi throbbed even harder in response. Somehow the tension had made her even more swollen, more sensitive.
“Mine.” He rubbed her omi with his thumb as he slid himself slowly in and out of her sex, making her moan. With his other hand, he gave a gentle tug on the chain dangling between her nipples. “Mine.” The chorus her body sang neared an impossible peak, and she knew she couldn’t hold out any more. Her head rolled from side to side and her thighs trembled. “Look at me, Persephone!”
The blindfold was gone and she blinked at him in the dimness. His eyes glowed with a deep, orange fire, his body rising above her like a tower of heat. She touched her hands to the hardness of his belly, feeling the muscles working there as they rocked. He leaned over her, the weight of him leaving her happily breathless, his hips digging the clamp into her omi. She ran her hands over his upper arms, thick ropes of muscle bulging as he held himself above her. Their eyes locked and she felt herself trembling in response.
“Please, Aidon…” Her voice felt too soft in her throat, her body impossibly small beneath him. His stiff length throbbed between her legs, but he wasn’t moving anymore. His eyes searched hers in the dimness. He knew just what she was asking for, but he held still, watching her, letting her beg. “Please.”
“Tell me.”
She had already said it. Her body said it with every breathless, quivering wave of pleasure. Why did the words stick so hard in her throat? Who was he—the Lord of Darkness, the great God of the Underworld? Was this the man who had taken her and slowly made her his with generous waves of pleasure and pain? She didn’t know him—she didn’t even know herself. She was lost, floating, gone. There was nothing left to give. She was already given.
She lifted her chin and swallowed. Her mouth trembled as she looked at his mouth and then back to his eyes. “Aidon…please…I want…”
He knew. She saw on his face he knew as he shifted, teasing her sex with the slick heat of his erection, slowly moving in and then back out. His eyes never left hers, watching her expression, as if reading her. As if he knew her.
“Tell me what I want to hear.”
She squirmed beneath him, biting her lip. The heated flush in her cheeks spread down over her chest, through her belly, and seemed to radiate outward from her sex in waves. I can tell him what he wants to hear. She thought she would do anything to end this exquisite torture. Her fingernails dug into his arms and she lifted her sex to his, rolling her hips, dancing against his pelvis.
“I’m yours, Aidon.” When her mouth opened to speak the words, she knew it was the truth. She raked her nails down over his arms and bucked up against him. “Take me!”
He groaned, sinking himself back into her, his hips pounding, his mouth crushing hers. Catching her wrists in one hand, he put them above her head as he slammed into her, the friction building between their thighs. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling her climax coming and working for it.
“Aidon!” She panted his name into his ear as she clutched him. He seemed to know she was close and lowered his head to her breast, his tongue flicking quickly over her swollen nipple. The sensation made her whimper, and when he bit the clamp and gently pulled it off, she screamed out loud, her sex beginning to spasm with pleasure. He quickly dipped his head to her other breast, skillfully removing the other with his teeth as her peak rose to impossible, shuddering heights. She struggled against him, against her orgasm, against the incredible sensation pulsing between her legs, but she was helpless to all of it.
And it didn’t stop there. He continued to press into her, kneeling up and working his hard length between her thighs. The attachment over her omi throbbed with her fading climax, making her feel ready to burst. His fingers touched it and her eyes flew open wide. She had time to shake her head, but that was all. Aidon deftly slipped the clamp off, and like a dam bursting, the pressure building there now suddenly had somewhere to flow.
“Let it come again.” He rubbed her tender flesh, round and round, and he sent her over the edge. She went without a thought, closing her eyes and sailing away under the slick friction of his fingers, the throbbing heat of his
erection moving inside of her tight passage. Her hands reached for him, pulling him down to her, wanting to feel the weight of him as her whole body quivered with pleasure.
He gasped as the pulse and flutter of her sex spasmed around him. When she sank her teeth into his shoulder, he let out a low groan, his thighs pressing hers wide as he shoved as deep into her as he could go. It was a white-hot flood inside of her, and she whimpered, squeezing him harder, making him moan and buck against her. He whispered her name over and over in time with his thrusts until he was completely spent, panting in her ear.
When he went to roll off of her, she clung to him, turning them on their sides, belly to wet belly. His fingers brushed stray hair from her cheek, his eyes moving down her flushed breasts and belly, and then back up, meeting her eyes. She didn’t understand the feeling filling her chest. It felt as if she might burst with something even more intense than her climax as they rested and watched each other in the silence.
“I—” The words caught in her throat, tripping over her lips. She swallowed hard, looking down at the bed, the dark bedclothes trapped at the edge, the golden balls, still humming their song, resting on the mattress. The nipple clamps shifted underneath her, digging into her side, and she saw the blindfold he had used to keep her in darkness. There was the paddle he had spanked her with, and yes, a riding crop, and the long plume of a feather. Her body buzzed with the memory—it had known, long before her head—she belonged to him.
As if listening to her thoughts, Aidon smiled, tracing his fingertip down her upper arm. “The first thing I will do is mark you as my own.”
“Mark me?” She lifted her wide eyes to his, a hot flash of fear stabbing her belly.
He rolled off the bed, standing and holding his hand out to her. “Come with me.”
Chapter Six
“What is this place?” Persephone drew close to Aidon’s side as they walked together into a large, dimly lit room. “Are these mortals?”
“Not for long.” Aidon nodded toward where Tisi stood, with the scourge tipped with scorpions he had told her of, whipping the skin off the back of a screaming man. “They are being punished. Most will die here.”
“And who are they?” She pointed toward a small creature pacing behind Tisi. It was clearly a woman, or something with the vague shape of a woman, with dark eyes and long raven-colored hair. Still, the thing only came up to Persephone’s waist, and there was something about the arms…
“The Keres.” Aidon reached down and patted one of them on the head. Persephone hadn’t even noticed, but there were many of them. This one had coiled its thick, snake-like arms around his knees three times. “Not now, Pet.”
“Pet?” Persephone raised her eyebrows at the endearment.
Aidon mirrored her expression and then smiled. “Her name is Petulantia…it means wantonness.”
“I can see that.” Persephone watched as the Ker reluctantly unwrapped her arms and slid away.
“There are many Keres.” Aidon pointed to the one behind Tisi. “That is Discordia, there. And behind her is Miseria. They are all sisters.” Miseria had tears running down her cheeks, and Persephone would later come discover this was a constant thing with her. Discordia was the one pacing back and forth, occasionally licking her lips when the man Tisi was beating gave a particularly loud wail.
“They are the servants of the Underworld.” Aidon patted a long table with drawers underneath and looked at her. “Sit here.”
“Up there?” Her eyes moved over the instruments at the end of the table, sharp objects in strange shapes.
“I do not mind your questions.” He placed his hands on her hips, lifting her easily and setting her down hard on the cold surface. She gasped, her surprised eyes meeting his. “But if you are to be mine, you will learn to obey when I tell you to do something.” Frowning, she opened her mouth to speak, but his fingers pressed her lips. “The only thing I want to hear you say is ‘Yes, Aidon.’”
Swallowing the words in her throat, she nodded. “Yes, Aidon.”
“Good.” He nodded his approval. “Lie down.”
“Yes, Aidon.” She swung her legs up onto the table and leaned back on her elbows. Looking up as she settled herself onto the cold surface, she saw her response had pleased him.
“Okay, Pet…” Aidon’s hand reached down and patted the Ker who had wrapped herself around his thighs again. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, Master.” Her voice was full of longing, and Persephone was suddenly glad she couldn’t see what the Ker was doing down there.
“I need you to brand my queen.” Aidon smiled down at Persephone, his finger moving over her upper arm. “One here.” He touched her other arm. “Another here.”
“Brand?” Persephone squeaked. “You don’t mean…what I think you mean?”
The Ker was already using her strong arms to boost herself up onto the table next to Persephone. Before she knew what was happening, those arms had coiled themselves around her body, pinning her own arms down next to her sides. Petulantia was clearly made of flesh, although the way her limbs moved and stretched seemed impossible.
“Which one, Master?” Petulantia held up several strips of metal twisted into strange patterns.
“Aidon!” Persephone’s voice was breathy as the Ker squeezed her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. “Please! Don’t!’
He pressed his fingers to her lips, shaking his head. “What do I want to hear?”
Persephone pleaded with her eyes. “Please…Aidon…you don’t mean to burn me…to brand me…the pain alone!”
“Trust me.” He covered her mouth completely with his big hand. She opened her mouth to tell him she couldn’t—how could she trust a man who had kidnapped her, beaten her, taken her virginity? Then she met his eyes, and saw no malice there, no ill-intent.
When she nodded, he took his hand away. “Yes, Aidon.”
Smiling, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “It will only hurt for a moment. I have a salve from Hypnos that puts the pain to sleep almost instantly.”
“Master?” Petulantia, her arms wrapped around Persephone’s upper body at least three times, still had her hands free, and in them she held those twisted metal shapes. “Which?”
“This.” Aidon produced another metal shape from the drawer under the table, holding it up:
άδησ
It was his name, and she was to wear it for all to see, branded on both arms. Persephone thought of her mother, what Demeter would say, and closed her eyes against it. What choice did she have? She was here, in the Underworld, with no way out, and she knew Aidon meant to keep her. His reputation for never letting anyone out of the Realm of the Dead was beyond legendary.
“I need hot coals, Master.” Petulantia nodded toward the fire burning in the hearth. Persephone watched as Aidon retrieved them from the fire in a small metal bin with a wooden handle. She could smell the smoke and she turned her head to the wall away from it. Petulantia’s voice was soft in her ear. “I will do them quickly.”
Persephone moaned softly, shaking her head, refusing to open her eyes. The Ker’s grip tightened around her chest until she felt as if she had no breath at all left. She smelled it first, the hot singe of flesh, and then the fire raced through her upper arm, all the way up into her shoulder. She screamed, gritting and gnashing her teeth as the other arm was burned as well, the hot smell of her own flesh making her stomach turn.
She couldn’t help looking as Petulantia rubbed something into her skin. It was black and sank into the wound as if her flesh were soil soaking up water. The pain was like a hot glow, a blooming fire in her chest.
“It hurts,” she gasped, wincing as the Ker rubbed harder. Persephone looked at Petulantia’s hands, now stained with black, and blistered and burned from the fire. “Your hands!”
“Do not worry.” The Ker shook her head. “We feel little pain, and our limbs are regenerative.”
Then, Aidon’s hands moved on her, his fing
ers taking over where Petulantia had been massaging as the Ker uncoiled herself. “This should help.” His big hands rubbed her upper arms, and almost instantly, the pain disappeared.
“It’s gone.” Persephone looked up at him in wonder. “It doesn’t hurt at all!”
He smiled his approval, using a cloth to wipe his hands clean. “Don’t move.” His voice halted her motion and she gave him a questioning look. He turned to the Ker, who had slid down off the table. “Thank you, Pet. I think Tisi is just about done, if you want to go join the fun.”
“Fun?” Persephone strained her neck to see, watching the scene at a strange angle. The man hanging limp from the restraints was bloody and broken. His open eyes began to glaze over. Tisi gave an enormous shriek of disappointment as the mortal’s soul rose from his battered body. The apparition’s resemblance to his human form was remarkable, and he gave Tisi a terrified look before sailing toward the door.
“He’s ours!” Discordia leapt on the corpse, her arms wrapping around it, and Persephone saw, for the first time, the retractable claws of the Ker that tore into the flayed human flesh. Miseria and Petulantia fell onto the body as well, and the wet sound of them tearing the man apart made Persephone cringe and look away.
“They eat humans?” Persephone looked at Aidon, her eyes filled with horror.
Aidon shrugged. “It’s what they do. When they’re not here, they’re usually hanging around battlefields, waiting for men to die so they can devour their bodies.”
“What did that man do to deserve such a death?” Persephone watched as Tisi spread her wings and shook them free of the mortal’s blood.
“Tisi has a thing about family killing family.” Aidon reached under the table and set a wooden box next to Persephone. “That one…I believe he drowned his newborn daughter.”
