Moonslave

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Moonslave Page 11

by Bruce McLachlan


  The tip descended and picked up the base of her girdle before running along, parting the material as it slowly swept up. The queen enlightened her prisoner as she did so, addressing her with a calm, grim aura, like the stern teacher of a dry subject.

  ‘The collar you wear is not just to keep you from 112

  changing form without permission; it has other functions as well. I can activate whenever I wish, like so…’

  Her hand brushed her choker and Corin hollered into the gag, jerking as a brief wash of chastising shock was thrown into her. The queen released the concealed switch and the captive sagged, breathing deeply, exhausted.

  ‘The longer you defy the collar by changing form or trying to break it the more powerful the intensity of the shock becomes. Eventually it will prove fatal. Also, the collar is linked to my own life. Should I be destroyed, should the beat of my undead heart end, then the collar will activate. You will be drawn through ever increasing agony, paralysed by it until it gathers to such a level that it will kill you,’ she revealed, the blade clearing the neck and then with two deft diversions cut the shoulder straps of the garment.

  ‘In addition, while within the palace you are safe.

  Should you step outside its perimeter without permission, the collar activates. The further you go, the more severe its reprimands, until you either return, or you perish,’

  she stated, and unlocked the fastenings of the plugs.

  Switching them off, the queen smiled as Corin choked with their removal, the final loss of them dragging at her dry skin, all natural lubrication gone from the duration of her teasing. Placing the devices back in their cupboard, the queen replaced the knife and selected a small black tackle box. She opened the lid and then peeled back the cut folds of rubber to reveal Corin’s naked torso, her chest coated in a slick sheen of perspiration, rising and falling with frightened wheezes, her belly quivering from angst.

  ‘Nice breasts,’ she commented, taking hold of one and assessing it personally, examining size, structure, texture, the cold flesh of the vampiress making the nipple rise.

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  Corin’s eyes were wide with mortified panic. ‘But they look a bit cold. Perhaps we can warm them up a little,’

  she smiled, removing a candle from the box and throwing a lighter to bring flame to the wick.

  Turning the waxen shaft in the light, she watched the head gather a pool of molten wax while absently looking to Corin’s chagrin stare and finding satisfaction in it.

  Thanos shifted restlessly, his shaft growing erect between his legs as he watched the play unfold. He had no idea Corin was so lovely, having never really seen past her sibling status, but now, in this sensual realm, he could appreciate her in a whole new light. It was delightful to see such an alluring form squirm under the attentions of the queen. Her supple tanned form, bound and opened, her extremities coated in sensuous rubber, her body left defenceless, dancing against its shackles and the imminent travail the vampiress was to impart.

  With a hand dithering, questioning whether to take hold of himself, he pondered on how the two of them were so completely different from one another. The queen was a pale, elegant deity. She was strong, cold, calculating, an epitome of the undead. Corin however, was an athletic bronzed maenad, a berserker full of vitality and life, the very image of a lupine tribe woman. One led a vast realm of countless thousands, her every word affecting the fate of millions of mortals. The other was part of a unified force, a voice in a gestalt power that mortals remained completely ignorant of and were never affected by.

  To watch one of them break the other to her will was a show he studied with intensity, and lodged in the shadows he let the indecisive hand drift covertly between his legs, taking hold of his length and treating himself to some sly and subtle caresses. Hopefully, with the queen standing in the bright light he would remain a mere vague 114

  silhouette against a backdrop of jet, hiding his transgression from her. Even if she did notice, the sight of Corin’s treatment was just seducing him into seeking some punishment of his own.

  Corin’s wide eyes flashed shut and her face grimaced as a hot dribble fell from above and started to pitter-patter onto her breasts. The molten opaque fluids made the flesh shiver and shake, swaying as it sought to evade the attack, but the queen was not choosy about where she placed the searing issue, and Corin’s paroxysms only served more of her up to the molten kisses. Squealing against the gag her breathing rose and fell, her body straining against its prison as the queen watched like some impassive surgeon, applying her attentions with clinical disdain.

  The smooth tanned panes of Corin’s torso started to become more and more obscured by the crust of wax that formed across it, the queen remorselessly applying the hot dribbles, sometimes from a height, sometimes almost directly to the skin to make Corin sing aloud with new levels of duress.

  The queen leaned back, the leather creaking softly against her curves as she blew out the candle and let her eyes stroll across the suffering woman beneath her.

  Despite their fundamental differences, it was intensely arousing to watch one woman use and abuse another, and Thanos had to let go of himself lest he climax.

  The queen placed the candle back in the box, leaving Corin breathing in harried pants, her body wracked with terrible sensation. Thanos could guess from his own experiences what was going through her mind. She would be frightened, questioning why this was happening to her, why she was being tormented so. But also there would be the growing nugget of desire for these pursuits, 115

  festering in the back of her mind and growing every time she was teased.

  From the cabinet the queen snatched a flogger, the leather stem spilling forth a bright bushel of shocking pink strands of thin latex. The myriad of bright tongues rippled like water as the vampiress strode back to her captive, her features unmoved by Corin’s tears and quaking physique.

  ‘Still a little cold, are we?’ cooed the queen, running the curtain of strips over Corin’s body, trailing through her legs so that its silken tentacles tickled her aching sex before slithering along the fields of encrusted wax. ‘Well, I have something else to heat that attractive torso of yours, slave.’

  The latex fingers dribbled over her face, parting and falling free as the queen turned and began to walk around her prisoner, looking across the alluring frame spread so mercilessly before her, savouring the sights before she altered them again. Corin struggled and mewled softly into her gag, aware of the imminent flogging and desperate to evade it, more so because she knew she was beginning to revel in it, and she feared corruption considerably more than the pain.

  Thanos once again released his shaft, the hot swell of his release building almost to eruption, and he was forced to break off his onanism lest he obviously reveal his disobedience.

  With absent severity the queen began to lambaste the wax, thrashing the solidified crust, cracking it under harsh blows that also stung the skin beneath. Flickering afflictions tore the shattered particles away, slowly clearing the flesh of the lupine with stern swats. Gradually the wax vanished until only a few specks remained upon the harried woman. But these too were removed with 116

  diligent applications of the scourge, the queen tolerating no single speck upon her property.

  ‘There, now that’s a little better, but I think we can still get you all nice and toasty before we draw this session to a close, eh slave?’ she crooned, opening the tackle box and rummaging within its compartments for what she sought. Sliding her hands into surgical gloves, she hauled the semi-translucent sheaths into place with an elasticised snap and then interlaced the digits, pressing them together, settling them into place before clapping them together, the noisy smack making Thanos and Corin flinch, grabbing their attention in full.

  Thanos watched wide-eyed as his sister fought to see what the queen was intending, but he lacked the vantage point to do so. From his lowly position in the shadows his hand started to shuffle against his rigid member once more
as he saw the tube of embrocating cream emerge.

  He winced to himself and smiled, recalling well just how brutal this medicinal salve could prove when misused on tender regions. He himself had suffered the infernal blight of its use on his genitals and rear, and though he savoured the memory, at the time it had made him livid with panic, the first occasion tricking him into believing he was being horrendously burned, so severe had the effects been. It seemed that Corin was going to endure the same initiation.

  Unscrewing the cap the vampiress set it aside and squeezed a single track of the gel upon her index finger.

  With a creak of her leather suit she crouched between Corin’s splayed legs, the woman’s chest rising and falling with frenzied gasps, her anxiety at what was going to be done to her devouring her mind.

  ‘Just relax, slave. It’s all part of your training. Soon you’ll be wondering how you could ever have resisted 117

  such treatment, and this will be a pleasant memory indeed,’ testified the queen, and with a gentle wipe she deposited the cream in a single streak along her labia.

  For a few moments there was no response from Corin, the cream taking its time to soak in and attack her, during which time the queen applied a new dab to the tip of the same finger in preparation.

  Corin erupted into the most tumultuous throes, her muscles pronounced, her tendons raised against her skin as she screeched into the gag, the caustic heat rending her nerve-endings. Thanos again had to let go of himself, the scene of harrowing one that had him dreaming of the times the queen had perpetrated such a crime upon him.

  He recalled well the heat, the burning throb that poured through his skin, as diabolic as the most pernicious caning. But it was a glorious torture, a pain born from his mistress’ desire to have him suffer for her amusement, to be obedient to her will, and such measures were necessary to ensure such a vaulted goal.

  The queen dithered, watching Corin’s loins tense, her body flashing with the fight to get free. Again she tried to change, guided by instinct, by the primal need to break loose and wipe the accursed substance from her.

  ‘Bad pup, you know that’s not allowed, yet still you persist in disobeying me,’ commented the queen as the form of Corin swelled and taxed the strength of the manacles, the latex stockings and gloves twinkling with new refractions of light as the flesh beneath started to expand. ‘Now you’ll be punished for it, and it’s your own fault,’ she added.

  Corin wailed as the collar loosed its serpentine arcs of voltage, chastising the naughty slave, demanding that she give up her futile act and return to the form required.

  Shaking from the twin abuses of cream and collar, Corin 118

  was sufficiently distracted from the baleful gel and let go of the controlling strings of earth energy. In resignation her form shrivelled back to its ordinary size, her skin sodden with sweat from her battle.

  ‘You see? You cannot deny me, slave,’ the queen stated, walking around to Corin’s face, settling beside her, stroking her wet hair, soothing her like some caring parent. ‘You belong to me. Your body is mine to do with as I wish. Your mind will follow soon enough, and the longer you hold out, the longer you deprive yourself of the pleasure of your slavery. There, there, it’ll be okay.

  We will have eternity together, my precious little slave.

  Now that I have infected you with my blood you can stay at my side until the end of time. So you see, there is no hope of salvation, I will break you, Corin, and I will make you relish your slavery. It’s all just a matter of time and patience. So fight if you wish, I’ll just keep teaching your body my lessons of love until your mind finally assimilates them as well,’ she added, using her cuff to wipe away Corin’s free-flowing tears.

  And Corin knew all too well that the queen was correct, for already her submissive nature was germinating, and the queen was making it harder and harder to resist the creeping influence upon her psyche.

  ‘Are you ready for your tuition to continue?’ the queen asked softly, kissing Corin’s ear, letting her lips brush the fine hairs, tickle them as Corin grizzled in apathy, knowing she was undone, that she was going to lose herself to the divine slavery of the vampiress. ‘It’s okay, you don’t need to respond, I know you want it. If you were really so disdainful of your fate you would endure the kiss of the collar and kill yourself. It’s strange, isn’t it? To know that the means to end this and save your soul has existed from the beginning, and yet you have 119

  declined to use it,’ accused the queen, causing both Thanos and Corin to flash open their eyes and stare wildly, startled by the truth.

  ‘I have left a veritable loaded gun beside you,’ she went on. ‘The collar can kill you, all you need is the courage of your convictions. If you despised my rule so much you would brave the pain and end it. I’m sure the collar can’t be that much worse than the deeds I have been orchestrating on this gorgeous lupine form. But isn’t it odd that you don’t end it?’

  Corin threw her head from side to side, trying to deny the malediction, but both of the werewolves knew it was so. Thanos had never thought of it before, that all this time, even during the initial rule of the queen where he fought her will with all his soul, he had been wearing the very means to end it around his throat. Yet he had never availed himself of the option. Concentrated voltage could well end their lives. It was a long shot, but if they had hated her tyranny as much as they professed, then they would have done it the moment they came to and found themselves captured by their greatest of archenemies.

  ‘I’m going to continue abusing you, Corin,’ continued the vampiress, stroking the woman’s moist cheek, speaking softly into her ear. ‘I’m going to train you to be my servile pet, lapping at my heels; a ghoul, an affront to Gaia, conducting the will of a vampire. Every deed you do for me, every time you please me with your actions, you compound this crime, disgrace your kind, shame your ancestors and your tribe. Your name will live in infamy for all time, Corin. So go ahead, end your life before your felonies grow any larger.’

  With distraught effort Corin fought to change, throwing her will to it, anxious to repel the charges.

  ‘That’s it,’ encouraged the queen, watching as Corin 120

  began to dress herself in the flesh of her full form. ‘If you truly want to avoid your fate, if you do not wish to be my sex slave for all eternity, then keep going.’

  The scenario captivated Thanos; the queen using the most expert means to shatter Corin, overcoming her staunch resistance with ease. It was a tactic as flawless as the body of the vampiress.

  The collar erupted into life, scalding the female for her actions. Undaunted she continued, the voltage rising steadily with her actions, growing more savage, dissecting her commitment.

  ‘Come on, Corin, you can do it. You’re going to be nothing more than a whore for the undead. You’ll be a base slut, suckling from vampires, committing the most degrading deeds, humiliating you and your kind with every second of your degradation.’ The queen used such stark words to bolster Corin’s efforts, just to make the fall all the more harsh when she did fail, as the queen knew she would.

  With a grizzling sigh Corin sagged, her shaking body returning to normal, the collar cutting off once she was restored to the image of an ordinary erotically bound female. The queen cradled her head, holding it to her bosom, letting her nuzzle in the gap of the leather attire that allowed access to her cleavage.

  Corin wept profusely, overcome by melancholy defeat, forced to face the damning knowledge that she was no longer held against her will. She was no longer a prisoner fighting the machinations of her enemies; she was a willing servant to them. Soothing her captive, the queen petted Corin’s hair and face, offering her condolences.

  ‘There, there, it’s all right,’ she said, her tones soft, comforting. ‘You were not ready for the truth, but you have to face it and you’ll benefit from it, I promise. You 121

  see, you really do want to be mine, little Corin, and I’ll take such good care of you,
as I do for all my pets.’

  For a long time Corin vented her grief, knowing she was defeated. Her ability to resist, to tell herself that she was fighting the will of the queen was gone, demolished by the tactics of the aloof vampiress.

  Thanos almost succumbed to climax as he watched the maternal scene, a lump in his throat as he choked with emotion. He had watched the queen turn a defiant female into an adoring supplicant in a matter of minutes, exploiting her self-preservation to completely rewrite her psyche. He had never been more besotted with the regal vampiress than he was at this very moment.

  ‘Now, I’m going to continue, slave,’ she said, and started to pull away. Corin struggled afresh, shaking her head, trying to petition clemency, but the queen merely trailed her hand down the side of Corin’s dismal face and smiled. ‘It’s for the best, Corin. Now lie still and try and find pleasure in your defeat, in being owned. I’m blessing you with my attention – you should be grateful.’

  The cream-laden forefinger pressed forward and punctured the lupine’s anus, slithering in and depositing its cruel cargo both inside and out. Corin released a whimper with the entry, and then groaned as the queen rode her digit back and forth, the tiny phallic stem working against her, pleasuring her.

  Then the embrocating cream began to exert its effects, the heat rising steadily, the temperature in her sphincter growing stronger and more intense until she was squawking in apathy once more. But this time, as compensation and reward for her confession, the queen used her thumb to stroke the previously hassled sex of the woman, rubbing up and down, soothing her with some delight as she suffered anally.

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  Torn between the soft stroke of rubber-clad leather to her clitoris and the scorching of her rear by a penetrating finger, Corin’s reviling of the vampiress’ attention was less distinct this time, her mind more resigned to the truth.

 

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