Loud laughter shake's Asmon's frame, jostling me along with him. It takes several minutes for him to get back under control. "You watch way too many horror movies. Luckily for you, I will not allow that garbage in my house while you're staying with me."
"You can't keep me here forever you know. Someone will notice I'm missing."
His body stills underneath mine. I wish I could see his face, to know what was going through his brain. But we just sit there, our breathing the only thing breaking the silence. "You're right," he finally sighs. "I can't keep you. We better get on with your actual punishment so I can send you home." Untangling my legs, he stands me up and grips the chain before rising himself.
My breathing starts to even out as relief fills my body. It's almost over. If I can last just a little longer, I can be free and go home. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. But do I want that? Looking up at the man before, my heart cries out for just a moment. But what does the heart know? My mind is fully aware of the danger being here is putting me in, but there's something that's calling to me. Something dark and primal. When has my life ever been this exciting? Do I really want to leave this and go back to microwave meals and scary movies in the dark?
Unable to resist, I slide my fingers across his smooth face, tingling at the slight chill in his skin. Moving up from there, I brush through his hair before skimming my fingers across his horns. Asmon ducks a bit, keeping me from standing on my toes. Varied expressions cross his face, but he mostly just looks pained.
Is me touching him hurting? His brows furrow as I keep touching the horn. With him a bit lower, I can slide my palm across. Seeing as I've played with barn animals before, I know what a horn feels like, and I expected the same rough texture and sensation. However, this one is quite smooth. Like polished obsidian or glass. The ridges dip and rise across the surface, filling me with an unnatural urge to see what it would feel like elsewhere. Squirming, I try to keep my thoughts to myself, but once again, there's no hiding anything from my captor.
"If I knew my horns were such a turn on, I'd have used them on you earlier."
"Wait, they can go down there?"
He laughs but remains still. "The curve would make that rather difficult." Asmon opens his eyes and pins me with a heated stare. "But we can certainly try if you would like."
"I'm good. But thanks." I keep palming the cool horn, refusing to let my brain come up with scenarios in which that would work. Instead, I turn it to more academic thoughts. What is it made of? Obviously, it's fake. Nothing comes out of the body feeling that smooth. With a quick jerk of my hand, I yank down hard on the horn, hoping to pry it loose and confront the man with evidence of his own delusion. Instead of popping off, it remains steadfast. Not even a shift. The only thing I manage to do is jerk his head down closer to me.
With a painful roar, he grabs my hand and shoves me away before feeling around his head. "What the actual hell woman?" Squeezing his eyes shut, he feels around the horn and rubs his scalp a bit. After a moment, his eyes fly open and his angry gaze glues me to my spot. His steps are silent and lethal as he stalks towards me.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," I babble, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt you or break your props. I just wanted to prove you were a human."
Asmon stops short and glares at me before rocking his neck back and forth, popping it a few times. "Is that what this is all about? You need proof I am who I say I am? You've got it."
He closes his eyes for a moment before thick fur starts sprouting from his body. Dumbstruck, I stand there and gape at him. His feet turn into hooves and his nails grow long and curled. Last, his tongue thins out a bit and lengthens until it's at his chest. If this is an illusion, it's the best damn one I've ever seen.
Not willing to trust my eyes, I tiptoe over to him, eyeing his stationary frame. He holds out his hands as if asking me to touch him, to prove to myself one way or another his validity. Reaching out, my fingers brush against coarse fur. Fuck me, but this is real.
Horrified, I try to back up but Asmon grips my arms, his long nails digging into my skin. It's not enough to break flesh, but if I struggle, he'll hurt me.
"Please." The whispered plea slips from my lips before I can even stop it. What am I even asking for? This man, no, this creature, is going to kill me. And it's all my fault for not believing in him in the first place. Holding me in his immovable grasp, he tilts his head down to run his nose up the side of my neck. Goosebumps explode over my skin at his gentle movement, so different from the painful, iron grip on my arms.
His tail whips out from behind him and skims up the seam of where my legs are pressed tightly together before sliding over my stomach and up to my throat. Again, it curls itself around, stopping short at just cutting off my breathing. I hold still, not daring to move.
The rhythmic pulsing of his tail as he squeezes then releases makes me lightheaded and giddy. Moaning, I sway in grip, but he holds me firm, never letting me go.
“You. Are. Mine.” His voice is deep and guttural, nothing like the smooth, deep cadence from earlier. It’s like a completely different man stands before me. Not only does he sound different, his stance, his mannerisms, everything is different. A frisson of fear fills me as he crowds into my space, taking everything from me, even my air. Every breath in is filled with his scent. Even that is different. It’s darker, spicier, more forbidden.
With a growl, he runs his nails down the line where my legs meet. “Open for me, mate.”
Mate? That fear amps up a bit more and sets my heart to pounding.
“I will not ask you again.” His fingers turn a bit until his nails are biting at my skin.
Squelching a whimper, I shift about until my legs open in a wide stance. I watch him as he tips his nose up into the air and takes a deep inhale.
“So wet. So ready for me.” Careful of his claws, he slides his palm across my mound before curling his fingers together, gripping my skin in his sharp grip.
Unbidden, my yelp finally wrestles free. Asmon smiles down at me, his smirk dark and predatory.
“What do you think? Real enough for you? Or do I need to do something else to convince you?”
He curls his fingers even tighter. I want to look down, just to see if I’m bleeding, but his tail keeps my face tilted up at him. I shake my head as best I can, but he simply smiles and releases his death grip. I open my mouth to take a breath, but the tip of his tail covers my lips, just as effectively as his hand. Squirming, I try to break free. I struggle against him. Fuck if he hurts me or not, I’m not just going to play dead.
His eyes narrow in a menacing glare as he guides me back over to the spanking bench. This time, I can’t fight him. Any resistance is met with his unyielding tail squeezing until I become pliant. The lowest part of the bench hits the back of my knees, and my body threatens to crumble. With one hand on my pussy, and the other gripped tightly about my arm, he maneuvers me how he wants me.
Instead of being facedown as I was earlier, I’m now face up, with the highest part of the bench supporting my back and hips. My feet rest on the lower portion where my knees once were. My hands are high above my head, attached to something at the top of the bench. Under other circumstances, this might be comfortable. As it is, fear sets my knees to quaking. It’s only his hand and arm that keeps them from knocking together. His fur brushes the inside of my thighs reminding me just how fucked I really am.
Once I’m laying how he wants me, he moves the chain to rest above my shoulder and dangle down to the floor. Keeping his tail affixed at my neck, he makes quick work of restraining me back to the bench. Satisfied that I can’t escape, he lifts the head of his tail off my lips and unwinds it from my neck.
“One sound out of you and I will gag you. Don’t test me on this.”
Eyes wide, I stare up at him and nod my head.
“Good. Now then, let’s proceed with your actual punishment. But first, A little teasing before we get down to business.”
I open my li
ps to protest, but one raised eyebrow from him and I shut them tight. Dipping his head forward, he locks eyes on me as he lowers his long tongue. His head doesn’t move at all. The only thing moving is his tongue as it stretches out from his mouth down to my nipple. Squirming, I attempt to angle my breast away from him, but unerringly, the tongue follows my movements, homing in on me. The tongue curls around my shamelessly hard nipple, sending ripples of sensation down my body. Weird or not, the feeling is not like anything I’ve experienced before. I stare up at a spot on the ceiling and bite my lip. I don’t want to incur any further wrath, so I do everything in my power to stay quiet.
As I lay there, his tongue works magic on my body. As it curls around the other nipple, Asmon makes it squeeze and release, mimicking the rhythmic pulse of his tail when it was around my neck. Moaning, I arch into the sensation, letting it flow through me. Just as I start to really get into it, he pulls his tongue away and replaces it with his fingers. His claws scrape at my skin as his fingers pluck me. Soft mewls rise from the back of my throat. Thankfully, it’s not enough for him to gag me. Try as I might, I can’t keep quiet. Every time I think I’m doing well, he changes up the sensations, forcing me to groan or grunt in response.
My thighs are slick as I rub them back and forth, trying to find some small measure of relief. Chuckling, Asmon slides one of his hands down to my mound and wiggles his fingers until he pushes past the resistance of my legs. Bringing his other hand down, he spreads me open. Cool air wafts against my damp skin, sending chills through me.
“Look at me,” he growls, his fingers digging into the insides of my thighs.
With a gasp, I pull my gaze from up above and stare at him as he lowers that damn tongue towards my pussy. Unable to keep watching, I scrunch my eyes shut, only to be rewarded with his nails digging back into me. The biting pain adds to the heat building inside me. Opening my eyes, I watch, transfixed, as the narrow tip disappears below the swell of my mound. Though I can’t see him, dear gods I can feel him. The tiny tip flicks back and forth against my clit with precision. Groaning, I toss my head back and lift my hips up towards him. Not that he needs any help.
With a chuckle, he redoubles his efforts, his tongue moving so fast it’s almost too much. My orgasm builds inside me as my channel clenches on air. I want to be filled so badly. This time, I’m actively humping the air, not caring in the least if I look like a hussy. My muscles tighten and clench as I get closer and closer.
Fisting and releasing my hands, I moan and wail as he continues his oral onslaught. My entire body stiffens as everything in me bares down, preparing for the massive orgasm about to rip through my body. Then he stops. The bastard actually stops. I’m a mere few swipes with his tongue away from an amazing orgasm and this asshole fucking stops.
I pound my fists above my head as I scream my frustration to the heavens, ignoring both his laughter and the tears streaming down my face. My body shakes with need as he eases his hips in between my legs. With a sigh, he skims his palms up and down my outer thighs.
“I own every inch of you, mate. And that includes your orgasms. Every small bit of you is mine.” He pauses to swipe his finger across my clit, making my body tremble with need. “You will do well to learn that.”
He leaves me and heads back over to the rack of items lining the wall. The clack of his hooves against the wooden floor throbs in my brain in an unending refrain. Each beat reminds me that he’s real. All of this is real. With a feral groan, Asmon pounds his fists against the wall then grabs at his head and twists about. Fear flutters through my heart making my breath quicken. After a few moments, his body shimmers and morphs until he’s back to the man he was earlier. His horns and tail are still there, but his body is more like a human. A fine sheen of sweat covers him, proof of his exertions.
Turning, he pins me with a molten glare. “I will not let him be the one to punish you. I can only control so much when the beast is fully out.” He must have heard my sigh of relief because his lips twitch up into a half smile. “Oh, you think this will save you?” Turning back towards the rows of tools, his lips lift a bit further. “You would have rather had him be the one to discipline you.” He slides his fingers down the gleaming wood of the implement in front of him, as if in deep thought. “He thinks of you fondly. As a mate even.” Snorting, he continues to touch other items. “Foolish beast that he is thinks that he can have you. But we know better, don’t we?”
His haunted gaze burns through me as he pins me with his stare. Such grief, such longing. I want to reach out and touch him, but the restraints keep me pinned to the bench. No one should look that sad. My brain screams at me to not let my guard down. He’s still a kidnapper, even if he’s mythical and not human. I can’t let myself fall for anything, no matter how broken or beguiling he may seem.
Not looking for an answer, he turns back to the rack. Thankfully, as he runs his fingers through the hanging items, he doesn’t seem inclined to grab the square thing again. That stung like a mofo. His long fingers tap his lips as he contemplates his option. Fear and arousal intermingle in my body. Every inch of me is primed. But I can’t decide if I want to flee or submit.
After grabbing a few things, he heads back over to the bench, deposits his items, then grabs a pole from nearby. It has two straps, one on each side. Without a word, he fits the straps one on each thigh, just above the knee, before twisting the pole until my knees are as spread apart as possible. Looking down at his handiwork, he gives a nod of approval before picking up the first item.
It has a dark handle, almost as dark as his fur, with long, white tails coming from the end of it. It looks soft, but knowing Asmon, looks are probably deceiving. He slides the tails up stomach, revealing they are indeed soft. In fact, they feel similar to his tail. Shivering, I lie back and try to relax, try to feel the sensations and absorb them. There's so much he's showing me and teaching me that a part of me feels like I should be grateful. Without him, I'd never known that I'd want to kill a man for stopping just at my point of orgasm. That's a lesson I'm sure I'll never forget.
"Hmmmm. You seem so far away from me, perhaps I should bring your attention back to me?" With a flick of his wrist, the tails catch the underside of my left breast, leaving me breathless as a line of fire explodes onto the skin.
"What the fuck!" I shriek, pulling back from the sudden pain.
Tsking, Asmon looks down at me, pity and disappointment heavy in his eyes. Hell. I wasn't supposed to speak.
"Poor little human. You just can't resist, can you?" He slides his hand over to the side of the bench and pulls up a small cock attached to some straps. "Perhaps I shall help your lack of restraint."
Asmon lowers the cock to my face, and I toss my head back and forth. No way in hell I'll let him put that thing into me. He smirks and tilts it back up before bringing it down to my aching pussy. With a large grin, he rubs the tip of it across my clit, his eyes dancing every time I moan. Asmon pulls the head away before bumping it into me, over and over. Groaning, I chase after it, needing to release. Pulling it back one more time, he slides it to the hilt into my fluttering channel. Unfortunately, its short size makes it only aggravating and not orgasmic. Despite how hard he's pumping it in and out, it's only teasing me, and building up my need. Grunting in frustration, I move my hips, trying to meet each of his strokes. Maybe if I pound hard enough against it, it will go deep enough to let me find relief.
The obscene noises of my fucking fill the air. The smell of lust and sex is thick and potent. I need so desperately to come. "Please, oh please," I whisper. How many times has this man made me beg? I've lost count at this point, but I'll do whatever he asks of me just to find my sweet release. Asmon drags the cock out of me and forces it past my lips and teeth before I can even fathom what he's doing. The flavor of my arousal explodes on my tongue. The small taste he gave me earlier is nothing compared to this.
Because the cock is short, I don't gag on it, but it's still an intrusion I'm not used to having in my mo
uth. It takes a few moments to relax my tongue and allow the phallus to sit inside. As I focus on dragging air through my nose, Asmon lifts my head and buckles the gag in place. He pulls back and watches me as I toss my head about, trying to dislodge it. Nothing I do loosens it.
"There now," he croons, sliding his hand over my hair. "That's a good girl. Take my cock while I punish you, and I'll give you your orgasm."
Tears prick my eyes as he pulls his hand away. That one soft touch is enough to undo me. I want him to stay just this way: touching me with those loving caresses, looking at me with such warmth. It fills a need in me I didn't realize I had. Until that moment, I didn't realize how utterly lonely my life was.
Chapter Seven: Asmon
I look down at my little mortal, taking in the small tears. What makes her cry? Acting on instinct, I sweep them away before pulling back to my duties. Her cheeks are delightfully flushed, same as her body. Normally, I don't deny any of my miscreants the right to an orgasm, but for some reason, it's different with Caitlin. I want every inch of her. Ever moan, every squirm. All of it is mine. Picking the flogger back up, I swish it about a few times, noting the widening of her eyes. My cock throbs as I look down at her, spread just for me. Her arousal still glistens on her lower lips, and I fight hard with myself not to go down there and finish the job.
I have to get through this punishment before her or I can get off. If I don't, I'm liable to take her to bed and never let her go, her various crimes be damned. But that's not fair to her. She needs this chance to atone. Gritting my teeth, I trail the flogger over her skin, watching her body dip and bow with every small drag. Her eyes are still alert, but I'm already seeing the signs of her giving in fully to me. I just have to push the right button.
Picking up my rhythm, I pound out a steady beat with the flogger. Right breast, left breast, over and over. The hits are shallow, just grazing her skin, getting her used to the sensation. As she sags back against the bench, I step forward half a step and increase the intensity. Over and over in an age-old rhythm, I continue, getting closer and closer, harder and harder, by increments, until her breasts are jostling with the force I'm putting on them. I scrutinize her face, watching every passing emotion that flits across it. Her body trembles in its bonds, quaking with every blow.
Nice: A Dark Christmas Duet book 1 Page 8
