Suddenly he reached up with one hand, and I cringed as his claws flashed. But he did nothing worse than cut the buckles that held my gag in place. I spat it out, my tongue feeling thick and dry—almost as thick as the huge shaft that filled me.
Milord paused, his hips cradled between my spread legs. “Care to plead?” He sounded almost pleasant.
“Would it . . .” I stopped and licked my lips. “Would it do any good?”
“No, but I’d love to hear it anyway.” He began to withdraw with the same agonizing slowness he’d used to enter.
“Forgive me . . . if I don’t oblige you,” I grunted.
“Quite all right.” He grinned, showing fangs that reminded me to watch what I said.
I subsided—and became aware of the pincers that were once more gnawing my breasts. Milord’s pelvis rubbed Edrea’s toy across my pearl, sending streamers of heat twining along my nerves. Arousal re-ignited in my core, stoked in some strange alchemy by the Beast’s big shaft. I shifted under him and the movement teased my pearl, made his shaft torment my anus in a new and dizzying way. I gasped.
“That’s it,” said milord, watching me closely. “Give in to it. Learn to like it. Feel my cock in your tight little arse, fucking it. You can’t stop me. You might as well surrender to it. Because you’re mine whether you like it or not, and I’m going to bugger you whenever the mood hits me.”
It felt good when he pulled out of me. There was something so arousing about it, about that big phallus withdrawing and driving deep. It hurt, yes, when he thrust his shaft into me; I felt so stretched, so stuffed . . . but when he withdrew, his cock sparked pleasure deep in my core.
So it alternated, shuttling me back and forth between agony and delight, faster and faster, as the Beast’s nostrils flared and he began to ride me harder and still harder. Until he lunged against me in long, brutal thrusts as I bounced in the air, gasping at each buggering dig, at the endless upward spiral of ecstasy he’d caught me in.
Until I hit the top of it. Closing my eyes, I screamed out my climax.
“Oh, yessssss,” said the Beast. And a moment later, he filled my bottom with his cream.
THE BEAST’S STORY
Brianne hung in her chains, the elegant white curve of her rump exposed to my appreciative eyes. How delicious it was, thrusting my hard flesh into the tiny clenching hole between her cheeks, feeling her helpless muscles fighting my advance. Her great blue eyes stared up at me as I forced my way deeper, wild with pain and fear . . . and the slow, hot spark of desire. Who’d have guessed such a haughty bitch capable of such passion? Of such complete surrender to a beast?
Unfortunately, that surrender is not enough. Not if I am to break Edrea’s spell.
I can still remember the witch’s taunting voice the day she laid her enchantment: “You think yourself such a master of women. You think yourself too good for the likes of me. Well, see what luck you have without that handsome face. Only one way may you break my spell: by bringing a beautiful noblewoman to submission until she willingly embraces your mastery.”
Typical of her. Edrea always was obsessed with slaves and masters . . . or mistresses.
When Cedric brought Brianne to me, I thought her a gift from the God I no longer believed in. Then, after she responded to my caresses with such eagerness, I tried to free her from her chains, in hopes she’d prove her willingness to submit. I was a fool. Such a beauty will not yield herself easily.
Obviously, I must take more drastic steps.
• • •
I continued in my campaign to teach Brianne submission in the days that followed. To my delight and her discomfort, she proved a very good pupil. In time, she came to quiver with anticipation every time I pulled her across my lap for a spanking or chained her to the bed for a session of erotic punishment. Her body knew that each flick of pain would be followed by nibbles and caresses that slowly built, driving her irresistibly to climax. True, she fought her reactions, but the power of her own body overwhelmed her will. I saw her surrender a bit more each day.
But she wasn’t the only one who surrendered. There was something addictive about mastering Brianne, about watching her react to my mouth and hands and cock. I made her wanton, even as she fought me. In time I was motivated less by a desire to break the spell than the need to have Brianne, over and over, in every way that occurred to me.
Then came the day I reaped what I had sown.
• • •
I sat in the great chair in my bedchamber with Brianne and Jack at my feet. Her wrists were bound to her ankles as Jack held her helpless in his arms, back arched, her full, pretty white breasts thrust upward. My slave’s long, auburn hair cascaded across the footman’s arms and over his thighs, and her eyes were closed, white teeth biting her full lower lip.
Staring into her face, I dripped another drop of candle wax on her nipples and she flinched. Yet I could see traces of arousal on her face and knew she reacted to the harness holding two dildos buried between her legs. The phalli, being enchanted, twisted and thrust inside her, bringing her ever closer to climax.
I grinned and tipped the candle again, watching as another molten drop joined the wax hardening on her nipples.
The wax wasn’t the only thing growing stiff.
I tried to decide how to take her this time. I could smell her arousal, so I knew she’d be deliciously wet. On the other hand, I’d been making progress on teaching her to enjoy being sodomized. . . .
“Well,” said an all-too-familiar voice, “I see you’re diligently trying to escape my spell.”
Looking up, I saw Edrea standing in front of the fire, her red hair blazing in its light, a snarl on her pretty lips. Her long black gown, sewn with astrological symbols, was cut to make the most of her small breasts.
“You’re a beast, Ardolf Greycastle,” she snarled, “and I’m going to make sure you stay that way.”
BRIANNE’S STORY
One minute I lay pinned in Jack’s arms while milord dripped wax on my hard nipples and twin enchanted dildos thrust inside me.
The next I stood halfway across the room, free and bewildered. The Beast now knelt in front of a tall, redheaded woman I’d never seen before. He was naked, and I saw with a shock that thick, silver chains bound his arms behind his back, wrists lashed to elbows.
“Edrea, you bitch . . .” he snarled, and I stared, realizing that the redhead must be the sorceress who’d enchanted him.
“Be still, Ardolf,” the witch snapped, and milord’s fangs snapped closed. He strained silently against his chains, but she ignored him, turning instead toward me. I fought the impulse to take a step back, and instead made a quick sign against evil.
“You’re a pretty one,” Edrea said, not sounding at all pleased. “I see why he’s so besotted with you. And I see he’s made you suffer these past days.”
Automatically I started to deny it, then closed my mouth. Why should I defend him? He’d given me as much shame as desire, pain as delight.
She smiled thinly. “Indeed. Not only has he tormented you, he’s made you enjoy it. And you a noblewoman, a lady from a distinguished line.”
How did she know that? Edrea lifted a long finger and traced the gold embroidery covering her black gown. “I know a great many things, Lady Brianne. I know, for example, that you’d like nothing better than revenge.”
I tossed back my hair. “And why should I not?”
Her smile was vulpine. “No reason, milady. No reason at all.” She began to pace around me and I turned cautiously to follow her, keenly aware of my nakedness. “I could help you achieve that revenge you so crave.”
I stared at her warily. “Why?”
“Blunt, aren’t you? Because it suits me. You’ve been humiliated, as I have been humiliated. And we are both the victims of one man.”
She paused and sent milord a long look. He peeled his lips back from his sharp teeth.
“What do you have in mind?”
Edrea turned back to me and o
ne corner of her mouth kicked up in triumph. “Justice, my dear. An eye for an eye. You do unto him as he’s done unto you.”
I looked toward the Beast, who knelt by the fire, looking huge, handsome . . . and dangerous, despite his chains. It was, I admit, an interesting proposition. “What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t we start simply, Lady Brianne? He put a leash on you, so you may put one on him.” And with that, she reached into one of her bell sleeves and pulled out a length of chain attached to a gold band.
I took it from her long fingers and studied it curiously. The little collar would obviously not encircle milord’s powerful neck. “I don’t think it will fit him.”
She laughed, high and musically. “It doesn’t go around his throat, you silly child.”
The light dawned. “You jest.”
“Indeed I do not. Would you like to put it on him?”
I looked back at him. For one of the few times I can remember seeing him naked, his staff lay limp between his thighs. “In his present mood, I doubt it will stay on him.”
“Oh, that. I can remedy that situation.” She traced a complicated sign in the air.
Milord’s phallus began to lengthen. In seconds, he was as thick and hard as he’d been when Edrea put in her appearance.
I grinned wickedly and sauntered over to him. He bared his teeth at me and I stopped short, uncertain.
Edrea made another gesture. He froze.
Bending to him, I took the hard length of his staff in my hand, then slipped the golden collar around its dark head. Backing away, I pulled the chain taut. The Beast roared in startled pain, and I jumped.
Edrea had drifted up to my shoulder. “The collar,” she purred in my ear, “has teeth.”
I froze, eyes wide as I stared into the rage in his. Despite everything, I did not want to hurt him.
But he’d hurt me. And enjoyed it. Stiffening my resolve, I tugged again, but more gently. Milord, eyes blazing, heaved himself to his feet.
“Let’s take him to the dungeon, shall we?” said Edrea. “Lead the way, milady.”
Turning, I drew my master after me by his rigid cock.
• • •
So it was that I found myself back in the dungeon, but this time, I was to watch and enjoy.
I sat in the chair Milord Beast had so often occupied when I was punished. Jack crouched at my feet, stroking the inside of my thighs as Edrea had ordered. He looked fearful. I shifted in my chair as it occurred to me that, since the witch evidently meant to free me, I should get up and leave rather than participate further.
Then I saw my former master pulling at his chains, the muscles in his broad back working as he faced the wall he was bound to, and I settled back against the velvet cushions. I could not resist the opportunity to see him being forced to take the treatment he’d so often meted out to me.
“Ah, here we are!” said Edrea as she turned away from the wide table that held the toys and devices my master had used on me. She held a long, supple riding crop in one hand, slashing it in the air to produce an evil swish. The Beast threw a narrow, green-eyed look at her over his thick shoulder.
Grinning, I found myself wondering if perhaps Edrea would let me do the honors.
Evidently not. Edrea sauntered toward him, swaying her hips, trailing one finger down her cleavage. Without warning, she raised the crop and brought it down in a brutal swipe. It struck him with a muffled whap.
He didn’t even jump, instead eyeing her hotly.
She rocked back on her heels and frowned. “I see that thick fur affords you some protection. Well, let’s see how you do with this.” And she gestured at the crop. Light flashed along its length and I blinked and looked closer. The crop had sprouted serrated metal teeth.
Edrea lifted it over the Beast’s broad back. “No!” I gasped.
This time, he did jump as the crop slashed down across his spine, but he made no sound.
“Edrea, you’re going to injure him!”
“Of course. He has to bleed.” She threw me a narrow look, mouth tight with displeasure. “Nothing else gets through to him. Jack, give her something else to think about.”
Instantly Jack pushed my legs apart, pressed his face to my sex, and began to lap between my lips, much as he had on other occasions. This time though, I felt no heat. “Stop it!” I hissed, pushing at his forehead as Edrea’s crop bit into milord’s back.
“Don’t be a fool,” Jack hissed back. “Do ye want ’er to turn you into somethin’?”
Eyes still fixed on my suffering master, I saw a movement down his broad back. Bright red, trickling through milord’s black fur. Blood.
“No! Edrea, stop!”
She ignored me, her eyes blazing as she flogged him.
I watched helplessly, cringing at the steady swish and WHAP beating an evil rhythm until the fur on his wide back shone red and matted. I felt ill. Writhing, I fought Jack’s hold, but he half crawled into the chair with me and bore his body down on mine to contain my struggles.
The horror I felt surprised me. Milord had enslaved me, chained and tormented me, sodomized and forced me, and yet watching Edrea beat him was agonizing. For looking into her set face, her fixed, cold eyes, I knew she meant to kill him, and the thought of his death left a great ache in me.
I knew I was a fool to feel that way. I should rejoice in his fate, in the prospect of freedom it brought me, but I felt no joy. Instead I remembered the pleasure he’d given me with his tongue, with his hands, the feel of his strong, hot body moving against mine, driving his shaft into my core with liquid strokes. And the look on his face at those times, the hunger that was more than sexual. As if he needed something from me even he didn’t understand.
Even in his deepest rage, when I’d tried to escape him, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to truly hurt me.
And now Edrea would certainly kill him.
Deep in my soul there rose a silent scream of protest as I saw his great body arch in agony under Edrea’s vicious blows, before going limp.
The witch threw down her crop in disgust. “He’s unconscious, the useless lout. Well, I’ll get no pleasure out of him now. Jack, come here.”
Such cold fear stole over the footman’s handsome face, I felt a spurt of pity for him, though he’d never been my ally. Reluctantly, he pulled himself off me and went to meet Edrea.
“Down on the floor!” she barked at him, and he obeyed, a quiver of terror rolling through him.
Edrea tossed up her skirts and mounted the footman like a horse, grabbing his limp shaft with one hand and aiming it toward her opening. I heard her mutter a spell and he hardened even as she drove herself down over him.
Ruthlessly, the witch began to ride the hapless footman, grinding her pelvis hard against his, her face contorted with lust and hate. Her eyes, black in the torchlight, were locked on milord’s bloodied back.
Edrea’s rhythmic gasps and grunts filled the dungeon as she drove hard on Jack, seeking her climax ruthlessly. She shut her eyes, grimacing, and I saw my chance. Quickly I rose and slipped toward milord, hanging limp in his chains.
“Beast,” I hissed. No response. “Master!”
He stirred, lifted his head at last. His great green eyes opened and fought to focus on me. “Brianne . . . Brianne . . . what’re you . . . ?” His words were slurred, barely audible over Edrea’s obscene grunts.
“Thank God!” I crossed myself and sidled closer. “I thought she’d killed you!”
“Give her . . . time.” His lips twitched, then he sucked in a breath of pain.
I stole a look at the witch. Jack was arching under her, his hands clamped over her small breasts. “How can I help you, milord?”
“Get you . . . gone. She’ll kill . . . you.”
He was right. I knew that, knew I should slip away while she was distracted by Jack and the Beast. But it wasn’t in me to leave him. “No. I can’t let her kill you, milord. Isn’t there something we can do?”
It seemed
his eyes sharpened, focused for the first time since Edrea had begun to flog him. “You mean that. You’d help me?”
I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
He studied me, blinking hard, obviously fighting the dizziness of blood loss.
“There is a way,” said milord at last. “But it would be . . .” The Beast stopped to gasp in a painful breath. “. . . very dangerous.”
“Anything is better than waiting for Edrea to decide to turn her magic on me,” I told him stoutly.
He stared at me intently and I saw doubt and fear and hope do battle in his green eyes. Finally he nodded his great head and spoke, his voice low and harsh with pain. “Very well. In my library you will find a . . .” He stopped to gasp, battling pain. “. . . a small porcelain statue of kissing lovers. Turn it over and look at its base. You’ll see a small raised square. Pry the square off. There’s a vial inside the statue. That vial contains a potion that can strip a witch of her powers forever—if it is poured over an open cut in her skin. You must somehow inflict the wound and pour it on Edrea.”
I frowned. “That’s no small problem.”
“No.” He looked at Edrea, still fucking Jack. I watched the hope drain from his eyes. “It’s too great a risk. She’ll kill you, and I would not see you die. Leave me.”
“And abandon you to be tortured to death? Nay.” Ignoring his frustrated growl, I turned to watch Edrea, hoping she’d still be engrossed in Jack. Indeed, she looked on the verge of coming. I knew I’d have no better chance and slunk toward the door.
“Lady Brianne!” It was the witch’s voice, sharp and hard.
I stopped and bit back a curse. “Milady?”
“Where do you go?” She gazed at me suspiciously, frozen on top of Jack.
Could she read my mind? No, else I’d be dead. Still, I told part of the truth. “The library, milady. There are . . . belongings of mine there I wish to retrieve.”
Beneath her, Jack stared at me, then flicked a look at milord. His eyes widened in comprehension and I realized he knew about Beast’s enchanted potion.
Wicked Games Page 25
