Thanos wondered if perhaps it was a family trait between them, a perverse shadow in their personalities that all others had failed to detect. Corin was older than he and had fought with the tribe for longer, thus it had taken more stern measures to seduce her from this doctrine, but she still possessed that submissive streak that he had been exploring when his angelic vampiress captured him.
The queen removed herself from the openings, the chemical fires ebbing, letting Corin settle down and enjoy her educated touch, but in a few seconds the immortal woman decided her subject was delighting in it a little too much for her purposes.
‘I don’t think we’ll need this any more will we, slave?’
she asked, ripping off the gloves and tossing them aside before tapping a leather-sheathed nail to the metal faceplate of the gag.
Corin nodded, her jaws obviously aching from being parted for so long upon the unforgiving demands of the gag. The option of freedom was greatly welcomed by the aggrieved female.
‘Very well, I shall be generous this time,’ she said, and grabbed Corin’s chin in a stern hold. ‘You have been a good slave so far. But do not make me regret my decision, or I’ll gag you for a year in a mode that will make this seem pleasant by comparison. Understand, slave?’
Corin meekly nodded against the iron grip about her metal shod jaw.
‘Good.’
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The queen began to unfasten the straps, removing the penis gag and setting aside, letting the woman lick her lips and yawn, exercising her long oppressed maw. ‘Now what do you say?’ she asked dourly.
‘Thank you, your majesty,’ Corin said softly, humbled beneath the shadow of the leather-clad dominatrix.
‘Good, slave,’ awarded the queen, patting Corin’s cheek as she once more let her hand search into the tackle box.
Two shiny pinwheels appeared in her leather digits, the metal handles reaching forward to each hold a prickly spur. The wheels bore a set of tiny dagger teeth around their circumference, the pins winking with malevolence in the light. Holding each of them as one might wield a pen, the queen stepped between Corin’s legs and placed them to her inner thighs. With one wheel on each leg she started to push them along, the small implements rolling, applying gentle prickly kisses.
Corin shuddered and gasped, the sensation dark and pleasurable, a threat of harm that was never administered.
The pain she had expected was instead a covert pleasure, and her eyes fluttered shut as she relished their unique and tantalising effects.
‘There, that’s not so bad is it, slave?’ sniggered the queen, watching her slave writhe licentiously under her hands.
The wheels rolled up across Corin’s hips, tracing routes across her belly and ribs, taking a meandering voyage slowly towards her breasts. Corin was swiftly panting for them to touch her teats, the escalating sensations mauling her sanity.
With lethargic whorls the queen started to spiral up each mound, working towards the summit, drawing steady circles of pleasure upon them until the device ran 124
over each hard and erect nipple. Corin immediately released a croak of rapture, overwhelmed and assailed by the small devices as they continued to prick her sensitised skin. Once more they began their descent, taking their time in the trip, heading back down until this time they were circling her loins like steel vultures.
Corin’s respiration was increasing with each hoop of feeling they etched, the anticipation and fright growing, her uncertainty of whether they would be kind or baleful should they wander on her sex.
The pinwheels ran over her vulva, marking roads of sensation along her most tender regions, eliciting pips of shock from the subject. It was pain and pleasure merged into a heady cocktail of incredible potency, the effects making Corin thrash against her bonds, torn between begging for mercy and wailing for more. Again and again the queen added to her plight, forcing Corin to endure such depraved delights, making her revel in them, feeding the slumbering behemoth of her masochism.
‘Do you want another reward, slave?’ asked the queen.
‘Yes, yes, your majesty… please, anything,’ she sobbed, ravenous for more, her pulse and breath racing, the sweat of pain replaced by a sheen of hedonistic lust.
The vampiress rose and strode slowly to Corin’s head, standing beside her, looking down upon her, her face in shadow as the spotlight glared down from above. ‘Have you ever serviced a female before, little slave?’ she asked equably.
‘No, your majesty, but I’ll try my best, just give me a chance, teach me, I’ll be good, I swear it,’ she hissed, her mouth watering with anticipation, her appetite raging as Thanos envied her position.
Swinging a leather-clad leg over Corin’s face, the queen 125
straddled her, smothering her, pressing her nose and mouth into her underwear, the leather stopping her breath, briefly depriving her. Sinking her gloved fingers into Corin’s hair, the queen used them as moorings by which she pulled the lupine’s face more deeply into her crotch.
The vampiress rubbed herself back and forth on a slow rocking shuffle, letting Corin drown in the scent and taste of the thong, her eyes sparkling with awe as she peered up across the torso of the salacious vampiress. ‘Do you wish to taste of me in full, slave?’ she asked, her hands in Corin’s hair, holding her firmly as she regarded her with a firm glare.
‘Yes, your majesty, please allow me,’ she gasped, a new facet to her personality suddenly opened and running riot through her thoughts.
The queen smiled and dragged the thong aside, letting Corin thrust her tongue forth with excitement. The lupine lapped and fawned with enthusiasm, watching with astonishment as the leather-clad form of her owner rode her face, revelling in her attentions. The vampiress had been immensely aroused by having so expertly broken her subject, the reward of defeating Corin making the cunnilingus even sweeter for the cruel deity.
‘That’s it, slave,’ purred the queen. ‘Now use the flat of your tongue. Gentle… slow and delicate, there’s no rush. That’s it. Oh, oh my. Oh, good girl… such a quick learner.’
Letting go of Corin’s hair she arched her back, grabbing Corin’s breasts and massaging them in oppressive fists, kneading the flesh as she thrust her own breasts into the tight leather cups of her dress, turning the front pane into a wrinkle-free sheet of polished hide. Corin convulsed at the image of her owner’s pleasure, the image branding itself into her thoughts.
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Thanos was so livid with frustration he could barely touch himself before almost climaxing immediately, the sight before him so astonishingly arousing. How he wished to perform such a deed, to be trapped beneath his goddess, adoring her in such a way.
The untrained organ of the slave started to give in to fatigue, her muscles strained and pulled, the tongue growing weary from its diligent task.
‘Come on, slave, don’t slack off now – not when you’re doing so well,’ commanded the queen, snagging the woman’s nipples in pinches and gently tugging, elevating Corin’s sensory influx. ‘Much better, slave,’ she smiled as Corin gathered new dedication to her task, pleasuring her with frenetic oral agility.
‘Thanos, come here and lick my boots,’ she snapped, drawing him from his mental torpor; the dissolute haze he was wallowing in as he bestowed himself sly masturbation.
Corin went rigid as she heard the words, the sudden awful realisation dawning on her that the lupine skulking in the corner, the werewolf that had decimated the vampire lords of the city and who had assisted her capture, was in fact her own long lost brother. Thanos took the leash from his collar and moved across the floor, keeping low and out of her sight, unwilling to reveal himself to her, to unveil his disgrace, his guilt still lingering by a few tenuous threads.
The queen took in Corin’s chagrin confusion as her first lycanthrope servile started to roll his canine tongue up and down her boots, letting it twirl around the muscular limbs, the taste of leather filling his mouth while he swam in humbled dissolute delight. How he r
elished being her slave, fawning at her feet, kissing her heels, licking her boots as the sounds of oral attention continued 127
to reach his ears, its speed starting to dwindle.
‘Don’t you dare stop, slave,’ warned the queen, harshly turning her pinches, making the woman scream into her womb and restore her former rate.
‘Didn’t you know I captured your brother?’ she aired, her head rolling from the sensations of having two of her kind’s most lethal enemies adoring her. Her words took on a personal edge, as though she was merely letting out her thoughts and opinions, addressing no one in particular, at ease with her servants. ‘Little Thanos was visiting a professional whore when I found him.’
Thanos settled with a soft exhale, warmed by the display of her casual tones. It was a pleasing revelation to have her become more human with her two lupine slaves than at any other time. With any other creature she was the queen – majestic, perfect, a marble effigy of sadism and power, but now, in the privacy of this debauched sanctum, she was free to act and talk as she wished with impunity. The image had dropped; they alone were permitted time to dwell with Dana instead of the queen.
It was the nearest he had seen her to being the woman who had initially enslaved him, long before she had obligations to her realm and her rule, when all she had was her house and her slaves. All other matters had been handled by the ruling council, of which she had been a small voice, but now she had defeated them all that previously occupied them weighed on her instead.
‘Such a pity that his first experiences had to have travelled to such places. Professionals are generally such pathetic little creatures. Reviling the name whore when it fits them so aptly. Mewling constantly that because they refrain from sex with their fool clients that their profession is not sexual in nature. Our debauched 128
passions are sexual, aren’t they my pets,’ she stated, to which Corin gurgled her affirmation, and Thanos grumbled approvingly as he stroked his rigid length while continuing to lick and kiss the leather.
‘If one does not find this sexual in nature, one has no business messing in such affairs. It riles me immensely when others stain the purity of our perversions with their moronic dabbling in it.’ She hissed through clenched teeth, a fresh bloom of rapture spilling through her, tightening the muscles of her legs, making the lubricious hide ripple under Thanos’ tongue and gaze, his eyes bulging with adoration.
‘I guess it is a sign of our decadent times, eh, my slaves?
So many bland mortals are seeking reputation and recognition through our delightful doctrines, trying to excel in it when in actuality they haven’t the slightest inkling as to the true motives behind it. They treat it as a race, as a fight to be the best, the most accomplished, forgetting any notion of enjoyment or true surrender. Any lowly insect can don rubber and crack a whip, and yet it seems that these are the very dregs who float to the surface and bob to and fro as professional dominas,’ said the queen, grabbing hold of Corin’s hair again as she started to work herself towards climax.
‘The world is full of ignorant fools demanding money for their uneducated and fraudulent services while they decry their status as prostitutes. Or they grovel and beg, trying to impress with displays of grandiose yet phoney submission. It makes it so much harder to find real prospective slaves, to separate these base tricksters and liars from those who would make sterling assets to my palace. Mortals are such a benighted breed, you should both consider yourself fortunate to be removed from their greedy, self-obsessed clutches, my pets,’ she muttered, 129
pulling at Corin’s follicles, making the roots wail in protest as the female thrust her tongue deep, offering penetration in addition to her flitting attention.
‘But I guess it is not all their fault. If those seeking submission would not tolerate them, then they would be starved of their funds. Every woman with a dominant thought suddenly adopts it in a professional capacity, so few actually bother to indulge for its own gratification.
Imagine the horror if every woman started to charge just for sex, and that those who offered themselves for free were the minority. The same applies far too closely to our art, and it perpetuates this ridiculous state of affairs, robbing it of its most powerful edge.’
The queen leaned over, peering down upon the adoring lupine slobbering on her heels, his shaft a sword of lust between his legs, his hands trembling with craving.
‘Thanos understands that all too well, don’t you, slave?
When under the care of the paid whore I found you with, you knew pleasure and satisfaction, thinking you had achieved fulfilment. But then once I had taken you in for real, made you my true slave, showed you the love of a genuine mistress, what then happened to your opinion of her, slave?’ She lifted her heel, balancing on her toes to let his tongue flail across the sole.
‘Yes, you realised that what you had was as nothing compared to what you could have had. There’s no going back, no accepting of what you now know to be inferior, slave. You’re both mine… forever,’ she crooned, licking her lips, her fangs free from the ecstasy of Corin’s homage to her loins and the service of Thanos to her boots.
‘Perhaps I shall harvest a crop of these fetishistic spotlight hogs, give them a true taste of slavery, teach them what the flavour of their professed lifestyle really does to the palette,’ she mused, and then suddenly broke 130
into gasping sighs of rhapsody, shivering on Corin’s face, blocking her nose, stopping up her breath as she rode her further into the heady spires of fulfilment.
Thanos suckled on her toes, dwelling deep in his degradation. It felt wonderful to hear her rant thus, for it confirmed all the more forcefully the truth that she was fanatic in her loyalty to her sadism and dominance. She was not seeking fame, renown, respect, money, to rule a scene or acquire a notoriety she could not otherwise attain; she did it because it was her one abiding love, her consuming passion. The queen had no tolerance for trespassers in any domain she dwelt in, be it her palace, her property, her city, or her chosen deviances. It was the fact that women demeaned her through association via their constant capitalist treachery and pointless greed.
Every time someone opted not to perform their art for self-gratification, for mutual pleasure and instead chose the path of a simple whore working for money, then all whose evolved sexuality drew them into dark epicurean folds were diminished a little more. As a dying breed, every latex-sheathed whore and profane deceiver brought the genuine practitioners closer to extinction.
The queen cast back her head and released a soft oscillating cry of ecstasy, the tone vibrating as she soaked up all of Corin’s caresses and then staggered forward, removing herself from her living seat.
Corin gulped in fresh air, her features damp with sweat, tears, and the moisture of the queen’s titillation.
Swallowing, Corin licked her lips, continuing to taste of her owner’s sex, her eyes half closed, taking in the image of her owner’s rear.
‘Not bad, slave,’ the queen attested, straightening her thong and looking down on Thanos as he continued to revere her thigh boots, working over regions he had 131
rigorously cleaned numerous times already, for now he was working for his own satisfaction. ‘Not bad at all for a beginner. We’ll soon have you as a first class oral expert.
‘Are we having fun down there, slave?’ she asked, turning a leg to offer a calf and heel to him.
‘Yes, your majesty,’ he replied, the words corrupted by his wolfen countenance as he rolled his tongue in the instep of her boot, curling the organ up to adore her ankles.
‘You enjoy my rule, don’t you, slave?’ she quizzed, proving to Corin that her brother was far from an unwilling prisoner, just as she now was.
‘Yes, your majesty, more than anything,’ he swiftly replied, the words genuine and sincere. ‘I love you, I worship you, I want to be your obedient slave forever.’
‘Well, no doubt you’ll fail to be totally obedient, just to earn yourself some added punishment,
eh slave?’
‘Yes, your majesty.’
‘And why is that, slave?’
‘I enjoy being chastised by you and your servants. It makes me feel more owned and reminds me of who and what I am.’
‘And what is that again, slave?’ she asked, seeking to have him confirm his status to his sister again and again, to lead by example the fact that there was no escape, that she would end up as her sibling had.
‘Your slave, majesty. To do with as you wish for all time.’
‘And you worship me?’
‘Of course, your majesty,’ he blurted, desperate to prove his allegiance to the one he adored beyond life and death itself. ‘I could worship no other.’
‘Good boy,’ she purred, and lifted the leg he was not attending, hooking the heel and sole to his shoulder, using 132
him as a footrest while digging the heel into his fur.
Thanos winced and turned his head to the side, lapping at the foot that held him down, his eyes rolling with voluptuous hunger along her boots and to her leather-bound form, mesmerised with her every curve and line.
‘You may masturbate to completion before me,’ she nonchalantly permitted.
Instantly his hand slapped to his tumescent shaft, beginning a rapid shuffle, savouring the bliss all the more because he knew he would be permitted to find an end.
The show, the queen’s words, all of it had inflamed his libido to the point of explosion, and every descent of his fist brought him closer to releasing this onus.
‘You see how devoted your brother is, Corin? You’ll be identical to this one day, and you’ll love it as much as he. Maybe more so. Who knows what the future holds with any degree of clarity, eh?’
Thanos started to shift on his knees, his hips shaking as he pounded his hand up and down, the taste and smell of the queen and her leather attire washing like a flash flood through his senses, filling his mind with the image of his goddess. The warm creeping influence of his climax started to slither along his shaft, beckoning release.
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