Moonslave

by Bruce McLachlan

  ‘Now listen to me carefully, seneschal,’ she stated, 144

  watching as Cassandra’s head draped back and she panted, using her lungs as an answer to the intimate fondling. ‘I want my orders carried out to the letter.

  Understand, slave?’

  ‘Yes, majesty,’ she hoarsely hissed.

  ‘When Kitjana and her party arrives I want a grandiose feast prepared and waiting,’ she stated with gravity, ensuring that her seneschal knew there was to be no forgiving of error in this matter. ‘I want you to excel yourself, to make me proud. I want everyone there, every quarter allied to me, a full menagerie of my followers. I want to show Kitjana just how powerful I have become since last we met. Is that understood, slave?’

  ‘Yes, your majesty,’ she murmured, her jaw drooping wide, her tongue running across her lips as her shoulders tightened inward, her body approaching climax.

  ‘And I want them to be entertained. I want shows that will have them talking of this feast for centuries, and make everyone who did not attend bitterly regret having failed to gain invitation,’ she continued, working the woman further onwards.

  ‘Yes, majesty,’ she groaned, and broke into wild shudders, rising to tiptoe, her hands clenching into tight fists that had her knuckles straining against the rubber gloves.

  ‘Oh, majesty… my queen… oh, oh… please don’t stop…’ she cried, overwhelmed with pleasure, swaying unsteadily, supported solely by the hand to her breasts and loins. ‘Don’t… oh!’

  ‘Suck!’ snapped the queen, thrusting the hands that had teased her breasts into the woman’s mouth. The seneschal swallowed the bunched fingers, her lips clamping to them with suction. Spasming, she adored the digits with insane verve, riding through the delicate 145

  yet assertive grip of the queen, taken to an apex of rhapsody.

  ‘I shall concern myself with the training of Corin. I shall have her ready to be unveiled at the feast. I want you to arrange her first public performance, so you had best make it a spectacular one.’

  Once she had been sufficiently toyed with, Dana stepped back, pulling the moist fingers from her servant and letting go of her. Cassandra wobbled on her heels, her body flickering with riots of residual feeling, her nerves tensed, her mind in a dreamy morass.

  ‘Now get to it, slave,’ she snapped, watching as the woman staggered away, lurching from one side of the passage to the other, trying to gather her senses and assimilate the orders she had been given.

  146

  Chapter Eight

  The engine of the limousine thrummed quietly to itself, its signal seeping into the interior as the softest of background noises. The elegant vehicle cruised as part of the convoy, the mirrored windows screening the passengers from outside scrutiny.

  Kira remained on her knees before her seneschal, licking her owner’s boots as the woman gently stroked her tumbling hair. Kira’s oppressive uniform was gone, now she was dressed frugally in shades of silver and ivory, presented to tantalise.

  A white thong of satin was matched with albino hold-up stockings, the white band at her thighs dropping into a sheath of mesh, the fishnet vanishing beneath her white patent ankle boots. The stilt heeled footwear was zipped at the front, with a locking band whose silver padlocks denied her the option of removing them. Her fingernails had been manicured and painted silver, and her collar and cuffs had been polished to a mirror finish. Other additions of body jewellery had been made in the form of silver hoops through her ears, and similar matching rings that transfixed her nipples. Other than these token adornments, and a subtle application of cosmetics, Kira wore nothing save a silver chain leash, the leather handle of which was gripped by the seneschal.

  Her beloved owner was far less unadorned. Her hair was swept back and woven into a fierce plait, her military peaked cap pulled down onto it to add to her saturnine disposition. A sleeveless halter-necked dress of latex 147

  spilled down her alluring frame, ending in an exceedingly short skirt that barely served to hide the latex thong beneath it. A fishnet bodysuit covered her entire frame, the extremities of which were hidden beneath fingerless opera gloves of rubber and similar thigh boots. The only portions of it available to view were the areas between skirt and boots, and the mesh that covered her shoulders and upper arms prior to being submerged by the gloves.

  Kira continued to busily lick at the latex footwear, the taste of the material a succulent banquet throughout her mouth as she adored her owner. Her love for Cassandra was at new heights, the time between them of late having vastly inflated her obsession with the vampiress.

  The seneschal had been working diligently for a fortnight on some important project of the queen’s.

  During the times where she rested, she worked off her frustrations on her servant, punishing and pleasuring her with regular intensity. It had been a wonderful two weeks of concentrated attention after long periods of isolation where more often than not Kira had found herself sealed in cruel bondage.

  Now they were heading to the result of Cassandra’s toils, to some sort of celebration or party. Kira had no real details, and had not beseeched any. So long as she was with Cassandra, she didn’t really care.

  ‘Come up here, slave,’ ordered the seneschal, her eyes gazing blankly out of the window.

  Kira lifted herself into the soft leather seat beside her tyrant, nuzzling up against the latex goddess as though she were a kitten seeking attention from its owner.

  Cassandra released the leash and placed a hand about Kira, holding her close, her other hand reaching over and caressing Kira’s breasts, running her ebony nails across the pale skin and turning the nipple rings in their 148

  tunnels. The soft sensation caused Kira to purr with satisfaction, her thighs pressing together.

  Craning up she placed kisses to Cassandra’s covered neck, the latex dress riding over the woman’s collar, hiding it from casual scrutiny. Slipping a finger through her left ring, the seneschal gave gentle pulls, manipulating the hoop, making Kira gasp, her hands stroking the firm latex body of the woman. Her breasts were locked beneath the tight embrace of the dress, her body sealed within the impermeable armour, the tactile feast making Kira’s fingertips shake and her palms sweat as she traced the polished contours.

  ‘Would my slave like a spanking before we arrive?’

  offered the seneschal, lifting Kira’s chin so that their eyes might meet.

  ‘Yes, seneschal, I would,’ she whispered.

  Her owner smiled and leant in closer, letting their lips touch, the fleeting kiss causing Kira to melt with desire, her body becoming jelly in the woman’s strong arms.

  The seneschal took up the forsaken leash and pulled upon its chain links, drawing Kira over, making her drape across the woman’s lap, her rear pert and bisected by the slender thong. Winding the links around her gloved hand, the seneschal caught the last of it in a fist, keeping tight reign on her slave as her other hand slowly rose like a serpent readying to strike.

  Kira closed her eyes against the sight of the passenger door and let a faint moan as the palm slammed to her left cheek, imparting a hot flash before the other buttock was similarly chastised.

  ‘Like playing the bongos, eh slave?’ the woman commented with a wry giggle, applauding the buttocks with a sudden drum roll deluge.

  The seneschal committed the spanking with swift pace, 149

  alternating from cheek to cheek, slapping her gloved palm home with harsh barbarity, the impacts warming the flesh until it was throbbing with effulgent riots.

  Then without warning she changed methods, releasing the accumulated rolls of chain and using the leather hoop of the leash as a makeshift weapon. The thick hide descended with a minute whistle and slammed across Kira’s rosy cheeks, making her gasp with endurance and rapture. The seneschal enclosed her freed hand into Kira’s hair, locking her fingers into it and drawing back, lifting her features back as she began a slow and precise abusing of Kira’s rear.

  With another sha
rp crack the hoop fell, sending ripples through the yielding flesh of Kira’s rear as her fingers sank into the seat, clasping tightly. ‘Oh, seneschal,’ she murmured, pulling slightly at the hold to have her roots grumble.

  The seneschal released her follicles and ran her hand down the naked canvas of Kira’s back, the silken skin and latex sliding effortlessly against one another, radical in their contrast of midnight black and snowy paleness.

  The car gave an unexpected lurch that had the seneschal look up with a snarl. ‘Keep your eyes on the road, dimwit!’ she snapped, and reached forward, thumbing a button on the control panel that served the passengers anything from the limousine’s wide range of epicurean accessories.

  Kira heard a faint electrical crackle from beyond the one way glass and gagged sounds of harrowing, the driver being chastised for his failings. She smiled and lowered her face to the leather, forcing her cheek into it, weathering the stabbing tempest.

  Just as it began to dwindle another fell, and another, the seneschal’s hand pressing into the small of Kira’s 150

  back, holding her in place as her belly squirmed upon latex-clad thighs.

  ‘Five more, slave. Five more and we’ll stop,’ she promised, pausing to softly rub Kira’s torrefied anus, sending a shudder through Kira and causing widespread eruptions of goose flesh. ‘Count them off for me, slave,’

  she said, once more taking a stern bushel of Kira’s hair and holding it back, lifting her face, craning her neck back so that the vertebrae smarted.

  The leash snapped down and let lose its abrupt signal upon Kira’s rear, the lucid bite bringing her to attention before she drained back into a limp slouch across the knees of her owner. ‘F-four, seneschal,’ she muttered.

  The leash slammed down once more, crossing the previous angry weal and escalating the effects further.

  Kira interlaced her fingers and squeezed, grinding her teeth as she endured the latest episode of her voluntary correction. ‘Th-th-three, seneschal,’ she managed to say, squeezing the words through a rigid jaw.

  The next stroke made her gasp and shake, fighting to stay still, the woman having sunk it into her inner thigh, targeting one of her most vulnerable locations. Kira’s boots squeaked against the seat as she shuddered and kicked, sobbing softly, tears welling in her eyes. ‘T-two, s-seneschal,’ she finally managed to say after a pause to recover her senses, her rear awash of duress.

  ‘Almost there, slave,’ comforted the seneschal, and swung down with a malicious hack.

  Kira cried out and arched back, rigid with stress, her buttocks clenching and unclenching frantically. ‘One…

  one left, seneschal,’ she burbled, salty trails tumbling across her cheeks and dripping from her jaw.

  The final stroke was delivered with all the strength of the vampiress, the descending strap humming against 151

  the air before sounding loudly against Kira’s thigh. The servile girl released a screech that broke into upset fits of sobs and gasps, her body wracked by the ordeal as she shivered and quaked, keeping herself on the seneschal’s lap. Kira’s hands dropped to hold to the woman’s dagger heels, grabbing them as a means of security, a comfort, a reminder of her station to help her survive the tempest.

  ‘There, that’s all of them, slave,’ commented the seneschal, releasing her holds and gently pawing Kira’s hindquarters as the girl vented her duress.

  ‘Thank you, seneschal,’ Kira added automatically, gathering her deportment.

  ‘Good slave. Now you can continue cleaning my boots until we arrive,’ she ordered, causing Kira to slide free of her owner’s legs and return to the floor. Folding herself into a neat ball on the carpeted interior of the car, Kira’s tongue rolled up and down the smooth stems of latex as she nursed her pulsating rear.

  The road started to become increasingly more uneven, the tended routes of the city and motorways giving way to the more haphazard regions in the distant countryside.

  The car began to slow and finally came to a halt, pulling up silently on grass.

  ‘Here we are, slave,’ stated the seneschal, as a royal guard emerged to open Cassandra’s door for her. The driver remained where he was, harnessed and strapped to his seat, kept tethered to his post, cables reaching over to his collar and to his chastity belt.

  The night air poured into the warm interior, stripping away the heat with its icy embrace. The seneschal took hold of the leash and drew Kira out with her, pulling her slave in her wake.

  Kira felt a pang of agoraphobia as she regarded her 152

  surroundings, having grown exceedingly accustomed to the sealed walls and ceiling of the subterranean palace.

  To be suddenly presented to the outside world once more was unnerving.

  The night sky was clear and adorned with the full impressive majesty of the heavens. The lack of any homes nearby and the absence of light polluting cities and towns anywhere within many miles allowed a breathtaking view of the stars.

  The fields were dark, brooding, a faint nighttime mist skulking upon the floor, weaving through the low hills and sporadic encampments of trees. A few hedgerows sought to control the land, but mostly it had been left untended for many years. A short way away, she could see their most obvious destination. The craggy monoliths were as she had seen numerous times in books and media, the huge slabs arrayed in rough circles, capped by others, with various assorted stones scattered within. Their ordinary mottled greys were lost to the night, leaving them black, like congealed shadow.

  Kira drank in a deep breath, the cold crisp air alive within her as she expelled it as a hiss. No cloud of steam appeared as she expected, her body being as cold as the night itself, lacking any warmth by which to contrast it.

  Two dark vans pulled up near the limousine ahead of them, their rear doors swinging open and allowing squads of the queen’s troops to emerge and take up sentry positions all about the main vehicle. Kira could assume the queen was inside, for the cars had not left together, and had rendezvoused on the voyage here, so she could not be sure.

  But why were they here? Surely it was foolish to stage any sort of celebration in the open like this where any hostile force could attack, or mortals might see, or the 153

  sun destroy.

  Kira looked across the scene, trying to see if anything elsewhere might be their actual destination. But there was nothing save the famous archaeological site, and while it certainly was impressive, it was by no means comfortable and inviting enough to serve as a locale for revelry.

  Looking back she could see the other three limousines and four vans pulling into position, disgorging their occupants the moment they came to a halt.

  Kira spotted the head slaves, numerous warriors, and a small army of servants and other slaves, many of them carrying boxes and bags for their superiors. Kira was tempted to ask what was going on, but chose to remain silent and simply observe what was happening.

  Duke Khardekk emerged from the loitering numbers of servants, followed closely by seven other members of his sect, all of them bedecked in rippling robes, the fabric encrusted with strange runes. The warlock wandered across the dark field and entered the circle of stones, his subordinates taking positions with him, forming themselves into a line before one of the large arches at the heart of the structure.

  For a few moments nothing much seemed to happen.

  The sorcerers just stood there, eyes fixed to the area in the arch, as though they could see through this aperture into places currently unseen by any other person.

  Kira hid a yawn behind her arm, wondering when something of interest was going to happen. She had been excited about this event, all the stress and preparation promising a spectacular time, but for all the thrills currently on offer she might as well have stayed in the palace. She considered that perhaps she should have been bad earlier, so she could be sent for punishment and miss 154

  this dull sightseeing tour and token homage to a forgotten relic.

  An ache started to gather in her temples
, ears and sinuses, growing in intensity with a swiftness that assured her it was not an ordinary complaint. The pressure continued to swell, causing her to rub the afflicted regions, stretching her jaw in a bid to relieve it.

  Looking to the monoliths she saw that they had begun to gather an incandescent quality, the massive stones becoming translucent in places, allowing light to trickle through. A vibrant rainbow emanation was joined by areas of sickly darkness, the two opposing sources of illumination vying for dominance as they shifted within the stones, flowing like water, casting their radiance across the area, bathing the sect in their rays.

  Arcs of condensed power leapt between stones, the electrical forks licking the other rocks, each bolt either being a malevolent midnight tear of power, or a joyous colour filled charge.

  Kira felt the ground and air shiver and seem to condense, as though the very life were being siphoned from it. She could feel a distinct pull, like wayward gravity being exerted by the stones, a drag that hauled not at her flesh, but seemingly at her psyche. A thunderclap slammed to Kira’s ears and made her slap her palms to them as protection while the echo continued to roll through her eardrums and across the landscape.

  A simmering veil of distortion poured across her from behind, catching her by surprise, the vast sphere condensing rapidly, drawing inwards. Like a wall of heat haze the ripple flowed through her, knocking her forward a step as she was buffeted by it. A few crackles of energy tickled her skin once the effect had passed onwards, the residue skipping between her fingers and about her torso 155

  before dying out.

  The shrivelling orb grew more distinct as it neared the stones, gathering power, stripping it from the land until it struck the mighty formation of rocks. There was an instant pulse of light and the ground bucked beneath her feet. Those who had not turned away were momentarily startled, their eyes maintaining an obscure sheet after being dazzled.