Moonslave

by Bruce McLachlan

  ‘Release the wolves!’ yelled the queen, and with a sudden flurry of activity the leashes were set free of Thanos and Corin. Together the two lupines bounded forward, vaulting boulders and dashing into the hesitant half twilight of the landscape. Their mighty furred bodies sprang and darted, quickly carrying them out of sight.

  From what Kira had heard of the plan, they had fifteen minutes before their collars demanded that they resume a less formidable state, granting the two fugitives a valuable window of opportunity to gain distance on their pursuers.

  The minutes continued to trickle by, the soft winds descending from above to brush the surface, vastly less savage than the tornado raging overhead.

  Kira regarded the skies and thought on what to do.

  Ascending into such a storm would make her steed hard to control, and besides, visibility of the land below would be greatly reduced. Her best bet was to use a mix of running and gliding, exploiting chances to fly from peak to peak, gliding down valleys, almost like leapfrogging through the realm in search of the prey. She wanted to catch one of the lupines, to have her way with them before 200

  anyone else turned up. And if she could ensure it was Kitjana who won the beasts, then Cassandra would be ecstatic, a blessing that would translate into some intense days of pleasure for her as a reward.

  A single trumpet note blasted the air, shrill and melodious, the signal causing a thundering stampede of hooves, the slap of crops to flesh, the pounding drive of prancing paws and the rustle of feathers against the air as some immediately took to the skies.

  Kira started to trot forward, nudging the flanks of the woman she had seen wracked by a swirling bank of scintillating mist, her body changing with the will of a warlock until she was altered to the state she now bore.

  Watching the others streak into the terrain with gusto, Kira pondered her tactics. Corin and Thanos might well be prey, but they were also intelligent hunters and knew well what was expected of cunning quarry. But this experience at stalking was tempered by the fact that she knew Thanos was besotted with the queen, and Corin was most likely of the same doctrine. Thus they would be desperate to avoid capture by any save the queen, and the best way to do that was to hide and wait until the game was called off.

  Stroking her chin, Kira took a deep breath and released it as a sigh, the feel of the strong beast between her legs strangely arousing. Bouncing lightly in the leather saddle she flicked her weapon into the woman and steered her towards an outcrop.

  The sounds of the others were dimming into the middle distance as Kira considered the possibility that one or both of her targets would rush pell-mell until out of sight and then stop before taking refuge. They were skilled at woodcraft, they could easily find a hiding place that would elude easy detection, and with the initial mad 201

  advance of the hunters, they would surely miss the lupines in that first crazy bolt to catch up and close the fifteen-minute gap as quickly as possible.

  Afterwards, the pair could work their way back to the starting area, pass it and find shelter to wait until the hunters had scoured the regions beyond for hours. Once they were exhausted, bored and infuriated enough to call the hunt to an end, the two of them would emerge, ready to return to the queen.

  Kicking her spurs into the steed she slapped it with her crop and took firm hold of the reigns, driving the steed into the air. Its wings flung open and the woman leapt from the outcrop. The wind rushed under her sorcerously enhanced wings and she glided forward, ascending upward with Kira’s demands.

  The wind billowed through Kira’s hair, streaming over her body, the leather tight against her skin, feeling like a shell against the elements as she steered her mount onto a higher peak. It was an exhilarating rush to travel thus, and the crop gained alacrity in her hand, feeling strangely at home in her leather-clad fingers.

  Hooves clattered on a tenuous perch and she brought the creature to a halt. She scanned the land, looking across the plateaux and crevasses, considering routes that might lend credence to her strategy. It was distinctly possible, so she slipped from her saddle and slapped the beast’s rump.

  ‘Go, fly off as far as you want,’ she ordered.

  The Pegasus launched into the air, diving into a low swoop that buffeted the plants and scattered small stones upon her turbulence. Kira realised that if she kept this low on her route out, the lupines might see that she was rider-less and suspect an ambush. ‘But keep high!’ she shouted, making the servant climb radically, her dark 202

  form vanishing into the overhead storm.

  Watching with satisfaction as quiet descended upon the area, Kira jumped from the ledge, falling the distance to the ground and landing into a crouch. Rising from what would have been a crippling plunge to any mortal, she started to jog off and locate a vantage point from which to covertly spy. Settling into the arms of shadow about some misshapen trees, she remained still and watched the land.

  Scarcely an hour had passed when she caught a hint of movement. Smiling to herself, Kira squinted, trying to focus more clearly. A huddled form was skipping from cover to cover, working a path along the trenches and lowest regions of shelter.

  A glimpse of short blonde hair testified that it was Corin.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ whispered Kira to herself, rubbing her gloved hands over each other in anticipation and then down the contours of her snug jacket, straightening the leather folds. ‘I spy with my little eye…’

  She watched unobtrusively for a little while longer, keeping her eyes on Corin’s progress, watching her naked form slip through shadow and shade, her body athletic, seductive, teasing her eyes, making a hand drop between her legs and caress the front of her white breeches.

  Kira fantasised of what the woman’s flesh would be like, how it would feel to pin her down, take her, defeat a creature that would ordinarily prove her equal or even her better. To forcefully make a woman service her, to taste her, to control her; it was a delightful notion that aroused Kira more every second she was looking at Corin, the sight feeding her impatience.

  Occasionally she diverted her attention to the rest of the scene, trying to see if Thanos were abroad. But of 203

  her lover there was no sign.

  Eventually she gave up on him and waited until Corin had settled into a subtle cave well behind the starting point. Wandering down she carefully padded over, avoiding any lose debris that might give premature warning of her approach. It was a futile precaution.

  Corin’s senses were those of the wilds, and she picked up Kira’s almost inaudible sneaking steps long before she arrived.

  With no option to rash flight, Corin leapt from her hiding place and ran from Kira, her naked human form far less speedy than the robust brawn of her full canine visage.

  Kira gave chase, her thigh boots carrying her from rock to rock, her balance perfect even against the small heels.

  The bright tone of their scrape and click against the rock was a metronome beat, counting off the seconds of the chase. With her dead heart thumping in her chest, her fangs started to emerge, coaxed out by the chase, the adrenaline surge of pursuing prey, hounding it to exhaustion.

  Her senses seemed to sharpen as she continued the hunt, her vampire blood accentuating her sensory input, answering the demands of the chase, and fulfilling her primary purpose.

  She could hear Corin’s ragged breath, sobbing in and out. Her mouth would be dry, her lungs cold from strain, her limbs aching as her own pulse screamed through her veins, her senses dizzy as fatigue continued its encroaching gnaw into her anatomy. It was as though Kira was sharing the woman’s body with her, and the fear and stress within it made her hunger continue to bloat.

  Stumbles and reckless staggers started to appear in her 204

  step with increasing regularity, the woman nearing collapse, fighting to escape, to stay the property of the queen. It was this thought that spurred Kira onwards, all hint of mercy evaporating. She maliciously overtook her prey, working a swift route ahead of he
r, and crippled by tiredness the woman failed to detect her.

  ‘Going somewhere?’ she stated, skidding to a halt on a boulder, her heels scratching long lines in the granite.

  With hands on her hips she glared down at the woman below her scrabbling to get up onto the high rock, which Kira now occupied.

  ‘No!’ wailed the lupine, throwing herself back, almost falling down the short slope from her impetuous and panicked response. Lurching carelessly back along her path, her shins and feet were scratched by the unforgiving terrain, her sole instinct being rapid flight.

  ‘I’m coming for you, Corin!’ laughed Kira, thrilled with the hunt, her body tingling with relish, of power over another being. She had no idea how exhilarating it could be, or how this shade of dominance could kindle a new thirst within her.

  Smacking her lips she slid her crop into her belt and vaulted across another rock before sprinting down a short trench, accelerating towards the end, her ears keeping perfect track of Corin’s locale, her body moving like fluid, almost without her control, answering the blood call of her vitality.

  With a mighty spring she launched into the air, vaulting the natural stone wall and landing on the area beyond, dropping right before the terrified Corin. ‘Boo!’ she softly declared, causing Corin to whirl, lose her footing and collapse. Possessed by her fight to escape the woman clawed her way backwards, scrabbling on all fours, shoving randomly with her limbs to escape.

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  Kira walked menacingly forward, her sauntering stride filled with arrogance, her hips swinging, her hands occasionally tracing a brief line on the rocks as she idly closed in on her captive. ‘Nowhere to run to, baby,’ sung Kira with a jovial brightness, tilting her head quizzically to one side as she beheld Corin’s aghast expression.

  ‘Nowhere to hide.’

  ‘Please, please don’t!’ Corin sobbed, her back bumping a craggy pillar, signalling an end to her retreat.

  ‘Please, what!’ growled Kira, furrowing her brow and regarding the frightened woman from under this grim glare.

  ‘Please, my lady,’ she corrected.

  Kira excogitated the title for a moment, and then shook her head. ‘No, call me mistress,’ she ordered.

  ‘Please, mistress, just let me go, don’t let me be caught, mistress,’ she implored, her body running with lines of sweat from her run.

  ‘Scared? Scared of losing your precious little queen?’

  she mocked, moving resolutely upon her target, taking her time, her crop slapping against her side as it lay tucked in her belt. ‘Well you should be. Who knows who you’ll end up with? Who will find us first, eh? The queen, or Kitjana?’

  ‘I don’t want to leave her,’ she wept. ‘Please, help me.

  I know you’re from the palace. Surely you can understand?’

  ‘Enough!’ snapped Kira, a sudden vehemence entering her words as she ducked forward, clapping a hand around Corin’s neck, pinning her to the stone. ‘I’ll be taking my own prize from you, Corin!’ she snarled, unveiling her fangs, her eyes lighting up internally with crimson fury.

  With a thrust she cast the woman to the ground, dropping her onto her front, and before the startled 206

  woman could move she set a heeled foot into her back and pressed, the leather thigh boot rippling with her muscles as she defeated Corin’s attempts to rise. It felt wonderful to subdue someone thus, to see a gorgeous naked form squirm under her boot. ‘Down girl,’ she purred, and grabbed Corin’s right arm, hauling it up, stretching her backwards a little, leaving the other scrabbling vainly against the rock.

  ‘Ow, stop… that hurts!’ Corin mewled.

  ‘Really? Then this must be insufferable agony,’ she chuckled, and tugging the crop from her belt she swung it down into the lupine’s rear. With a hearty smack the flesh quivered and the woman yelled, bucking, her legs kicking as she fought Kira’s hold, her other hand reaching round to paw at Kira’s other boot.

  ‘No! Stop! Please! I’m begging you!’ she wailed.

  ‘Oh come now, surely the queen has done far worse,’

  retorted Kira, and thrashed the woman’s rump again and again, painting hot welts on her skin, her body cavorting under her control.

  Corin’s free hand bent back and slipped against the polished leather of Kira’s boots, unable to dislodge her as the fingers of her other hand clenched and wriggled in desperation.

  The queen had to have taught Corin to enjoy such punishment otherwise she would not have risked displaying her at the feast or including her in the hunt.

  The girl was just resisting because she did not know Kira, perhaps believed her inferior to the queen, and of course, there was the fear of losing her precious royal vampiress.

  All the possible rationales irritated Kira further, making her more stringent in her scourging.

  ‘Aaah! Stop! Ow!’ whimpered Corin, responding energetically to every lick of the woven stalk, the leather 207

  hoop ringing against her soft flesh.

  ‘If you don’t keep quiet I’ll punish you more!’ Kira snapped, and started to strike harder into her target to ensure she failed to comply. Corin tried to bite down onto her words, but the added ferocity coupled with Kira’s significant strength and personal knowledge of where and how to achieve the sternest results had her howling with duress in moments.

  ‘That’s it; I warned you,’ Kira murmured bitterly, twirling the crop and lodging it under her armpit, pinning it in place before turning the captured limb. Snagging the other wrist she pulled them up, turning Corin onto her back before descending with her knees, pinning them beneath her shins.

  ‘Beg my forgiveness and I might spare you,’ she offered, peering into the lupine’s distressed eyes, glaring down her leather-clad torso, the crotch of her riding trousers hanging over the woman’s face, threatening to smother her.

  ‘ Please, mistress, I’m so sorry…’ she croaked. ‘Please forgive me. I’ll do anything you want, I didn’t mean to offend you.’

  Kira pondered for a moment, deliberately exaggerating the feat, putting a finger to her lips as she looked up in contemplation. ‘Not good enough,’ she laughed, and started to lower into position.

  ‘Noooo-mmmph,’ came Corin’s response, the words lost as Kira settled into position, the nose of the female pressing into her loins, a wonderful precursor tease. She could feel the soft drag of air through the weave of the fabric, Corin sifting the most meagre influx through the tight material, hauling at it, her eyes wide as she fought for every fraction of a breath.

  ‘What’s that?’ Kira questioned, throwing a hand to cup 208

  her ear as she detected faint murmurs from beneath her.

  ‘Speak up,’ she snapped, and flung the crop back, catching the side of Corin’s thigh. The woman’s eyes screwed up, her legs curling together, knotting intricately as she battled the effects of the stroke. Kira lifted herself a little, letting the woman gulp down lungfuls of air, coughing and spluttering.

  ‘I’m going to give you a good beating now, Corin.

  Understand?’ she questioned, rolling the crop in her fingers.

  ‘Y-yes, mistress,’ she stammered, her eyes half closed and full of water.

  Kira frowned, caught by surprise at the ease with which the woman had accepted the chastisement. Perhaps the queen had trained her more thoroughly than she at first thought. But then as she settled back down, allowing the woman to steal a great gasp before she was stifled, she saw her open her mouth wide, and as she rode the woman’s face, she could feel her tongue tasting the fabric of her riding breeches.

  Despite these suspicions, Kira hurled the crop around behind her, afflicting the powerful thighs of her prisoner with the weapon, and when she parted them Kira never once missed the opportunity to hack into her inner region, installing the most caustic of weals.

  Kira rode the woman as she bucked and kicked, jolting under the weight of her torturess, unable to defeat the awesome strength of the brood vampire. Corin’s hands were rende
red claws, trying to grab her oppressor, her legs slamming against the ground, the slap of flesh to rock merging with muted hollers and the stinging crack of the punishing implement as it went to work.

  Only once Corin was red in face and thigh did Kira stop and rise, allowing her charge to drag down her 209

  breath. Barely had she gained the first than she addressed her villain, Kira stroking the warmed front of her trousers, saliva and her own moisture tainting them, her mind heady with the elation of dominance.

  ‘Th-thank you… m-mistress,’ Corin managed, swallowing for strength at the end, her eyes closed, her senses reeling, her mind full of haze from the effects of deprivation.

  ‘Good slave,’ commented Kira, reaching down to cup the woman’s chin. ‘Such a waste; to squander something so delightful,’ she said to herself, reaching back and running a gloved hand down the woman’s thigh, tracing the purple lines set indelibly upon her, and as she crossed the pudenda of the woman she found her damp with arousal. ‘You little pervert,’ she grinned with astonishment, reaching across with the crop and running its ring of hide through the folds of her labia. The woman groaned deeply, her mouth wide as she felt the passage of the weapon across her naked loins. ‘Look at this,’

  said Kira, showing her the glistening moisture upon the leather. She smiled and forced it to Corin’s lips. ‘Clean it off, slave,’ she demanded, making the woman lap it as she continued her accusations.

  ‘All this time you’ve been playing me like a fool, having me think you were genuinely resisting me.

  Tricking me, no less.’

  ‘I… I’m sorry, mistress,’ she snorted, her tongue rolling across the leather with fetishistic craving, adoring it as the tool of her own derogation and torment.