The thickness of the cocoon lay across her front, heavy and dense, smooth against her skin. The smell of the fabric spilled through her senses, consuming them, making her ache to be able to touch herself, to feel pleasure again and find new bliss in her capture. Any shuffle had her slide against the material, prickling her skin, making her wriggle just to continue the feeling of rubber upon her.
There was the sound of movement, and fixtures were snapped to the sides of the bag, leaving Kira to just lay still and wonder what was going to be done to her.
Without warning there came a gushing inrush of air through the walls of the sheath, the latex inflating from within at a rapid pace. Almost immediately her exit was denied as the sheath swelled first about her feet to seal her in, gripping softly to her and increasing its crush in leaps and bounds.
‘The laws of the queen’s palace are simple,’ stated the woman, starting the education as Kira felt the structure swelling about her, pushing down on her skin and welling beneath her. ‘If you perform as required, if you please those who make use of you, you will find your life filled with pleasure.
129
‘However, unsatisfactory performance will lead to immediate correction and the assigning of a number of demerits. On regular occasions you will be required to work off these marks of your inappropriate behaviour,’
continued the woman, Kira now being lifted up from the floor, the latex beneath her becoming more severely pressurised.
‘You will be offered the choice of one of three manners in which to alleviate your debt. Each choice will place you in punishment bondage for a certain length of time.
Should you choose the first, the bondage may be mild, removing one point per half-hour spent in it. Every time your sentence carries you to a new crime you will be given chastisement with a paddle, flogger, or similar weapon after it has been related to you. Thus you serve the penalty for each crime consecutively,’ decreed the trainer, and Kira started to shuffle uneasily as the sense of claustrophobia became more intense. The latex prison was growing evermore firm upon her, and was now squeezing against her skin.
‘For example, you may be suffering for an hour for failing to obey. After this hour you are scheduled for another forty-five minutes for lack of respect. At the end of the hour you will be disciplined, then informed that you are now suffering for not showing enough respect to your superiors. You will be left to endure for the forty-five minutes, and so on and so forth until all your felonies are expiated,’ added the female, continuing the inflation, the rubber shell now exerting new force, swallowing up her ability to move.
‘Should you choose the second method you will remove three demerits per thirty minutes, but the bondage will be considerably more harsh and the discipline you receive 130
will come from a crop or cat,’ came the next part of her instruction. Kira was now concentrating zealously to the words as a means to distract from the rising grip about her. It was like being swallowed up by some consuming void, her body removed from her, replaced by the feel of latex imprisonment.
‘The third method will remove five demerits per half-hour, and will result in severe bondage, and very likely modes of suspension. Plus, the chastisement you receive will be from a cane, dressage whip, or bullwhip.’
Kira started to panic, the latex now like iron under the extreme pressure contained within its walls. The face plate was pushing across her features, stopping her from stealing breath, depriving her of any hope of voicing her distress as the soft words of her tormentor continued to drift in through the thick material.
‘There are numerous castes in the palace of the queen, each of them run by a head slave who answers to the seneschal, who in turn answers to the queen herself. You will come to know many of these castes during your time here, and they are as follows…’ The process of inflation eased as the sack reached its maximum tolerances, the entire structure pressing inward from all directions, giving Kira a feeling of isolation that welled around the deprivation.
‘The lowest caste is that of the Feed Banks, where mortals and vampires are held in bondage and regularly milked of their blood, like cattle. This is the manner in which all nutrition for the guests and populace is handled.
The blood of vampire-kind feeds the ghouls. The blood of mortals sustains us and negates the need for messy and damaging biting, while also dismissing the need to stalk mortals in the dangerous open when we could better 131
spend our time indulging ourselves.’
Suddenly the dildos were working on her again, teasing her clitoris with delicate mechanised kisses. The last of Kira’s air was lost as a sobbing gasp of response, the breath filtering through her bleak cell and escaping.
‘Then there is the lot of furniture and function slaves.
These serve as seats, tables, shoe polishers, lights, toilets, bidets, doormats, any number of inanimate objects, and do so until they are granted reprieve and moved to another task. Of course, it has its rewards, for such slaves watch and learn all the various pursuits that occur here, they get to observe firsthand the most debauched delights and wicked passions. This of course adds to their frustration, for they cannot indulge, only observe until they are freed of this caste.’
Kira started to calm herself, forcing herself to relish this tomb, to find pleasure in its firm hold. The action was eased by the work of the belt as it hummed within her, filling her loins with warmth and sensation.
‘Pain slaves such as you are here to suffer because the queen deems it so. You are exempt from the demerit system simply because you are punished constantly.
Particularly disobedient and troublesome slaves are assigned here, as well as slaves who have been assigned on a whim. Sometimes, novices like yourself are placed here for a quick training and breaking of their spirit,’ the woman revealed, explaining why Kira had been sentenced to this fate. Cassandra wanted the process of Kira’s indoctrination greatly expedited, turning her quickly into a fawning degraded slave, unusable for anything else save sensual pursuits.
‘The caste of pet has slaves placed in the bestial configuration of a dog, cat, or pony, through to the more 132
obscure variations such as fish, cow, worm, and other lowly forms. The servant caste are our waiters and waitresses, our cleaners and handmaids; they perform the more ordinary tasks expected of a servile lot. They will also perform and entertain, service and sate any other sexual or fetishistic needs their owners may have,’ she stated, making Kira wonder what it must be like to serve in this palace, to wander and attend, clad in a tight uniform to emphasise one’s servility. It was a caste she would like to try, and images of waiting on Cassandra and having her take her servant whenever the motivation promoted her seeped through her thoughts. To be there when she awoke, thrown onto the bed and made to perform; it was a delicious concept. But to gift such a daydream with any credibility, she would first have to prove to Cassandra that she had no intention of trying to steal her position or the attention of the queen.
‘The last caste for slaves is that of harem slaves. They are kept in private modules that house nine slaves each, one of whom is their personal monitor slave. This one is responsible for keeping them trained and obedient, and if they fail to do so they shall lose their position to another.
The monitor slaves answer to a head slave who supervises the entire group. Harem slaves entertain the guests and denizens of the queen’s palace in any way demanded of them. They are sometimes sold off to other vampire houses, or to any who wish them. Some multi-billionaires who know of our existence leap at the chance to purchase a vampire slave, for to have such a creature of beauty and power, and also be able to drink of their blood to gain eternal longevity is an unsurpassed offer.’
Kira’s eyes were wide with excitement, her body slithering against the oppressive cocoon. To be a sex 133
slave, to have these preternatural beasts using her as there slut, to be made to please them, and punished when she did not… it titillated her sense of longing to ne
w levels.
She could get to see everything, experience every vice and deviance from the guests of the palace, and then perhaps, to be sold to someone, to become their personal and most prized possession for all time, kept in luxury and subjected to their whims. Again, against all reason, she treated herself to dark fantasies of Cassandra purchasing her, perhaps to keep her from the queen. It was not at all likely, but with the belt tickling her insides it did not matter; she could concoct the most unlikely scenarios and imagine she were in them right now.
‘The queen has a royal harem module, where the most valuable and prized of her slaves are kept. This module is kept even from the seneschal and is the queen’s private domain where none may tread save her and those kept there. Harem slave is perhaps the most sought after caste to be in, and of this the royal harem is the highest rank a slave can enjoy without the privilege of becoming a monitor slave, a head slave, or even seneschal.’
Kira wondered what manner of slaves dwelt within.
Such specimens had to be the most beautiful, the most skilled – creatures of unsurpassed and inhuman allure.
To gain entry into that place, to be one of the queen’s personal harem, would be an honour above all others.
To be recognised as so precious that she needed to be locked away from all outsiders and coddled in that vaulted locale. It was tempting to dream of gaining admittance, save that should she attain such a height she would lose her beloved Cassandra forever, and her obsession with the regal vampiress was becoming too fanatic to brook such an outcome, even in the realms of fantasy.
134
The belt cut out as usual when she was delivered to the brink, and she flung herself to the task of breaking free as she felt orgasm slipping away once more. How much longer would they do this to her? How many more times would she be served up to this ordeal of being teased and then deprived? It wasn’t fair; they had won her over. She was entranced with no mere carnal act; she wanted the more illicit aspects, the depravity, the taboo deeds.
They had systematically fanned her flames of lust, making them rage within her, and through this training had turned her ordinary lusts to ones of a far more evolved nature.
No more sound was reaching her from without, so she guessed she had been deserted to assimilate her lessons.
The palace was an unholy city unto itself, with citizens and numerous tiers of slavery for all, with the queen as presiding lady over everything and everyone. It was amazing to think that all the times she had walked the surface world, lost to her own banal distractions, far beneath her feet and beneath the feet of every other ignorant mortal there was another world, an entire land devoted to sensual excess.
Vampires, werewolves, wizards, all the things of myth and superstition existed. Secluded from view, hiding under a cloak of fiction, their existence was believed so incredulous and unlikely that none even considered the possibility that such forces were real. And now she was part of them, drawn in by one of the most powerful vampire rulers.
Lost in her own world, thinking and stoking her prurient lust with notions of what she might be forced to do, all the things she would be made to do to others and have 135
done to her, she started to slip into a hazy half sleep.
Slipping to and fro within the somnolent folds, Kira’s wishes started to manifest about her. Without any senses granted save frenzied and fact fuelled imagination, Kira began to think of herself placed amidst her dreams. Her mind wandered, finding increasing difficulty determining what was conjuration and what was not, for the real world offered so little at present that her thoughts were far more clear and appealing. By stealing away her senses, they had left her surrendered to imagination.
She felt herself under another’s heels, being impaled by a pounding male sex, tied down, suspended, used as furniture, as a pet. All she had heard about wafted through her ravenous thoughts.
The hunger for blood started to arise around her projected scenarios, making her lust for the quaffing of life. She wanted to be fed her sustenance, to partake of a lover’s vitality during intercourse, to relish her new role as a predator, a killer, a thief.
It seemed like years before something happened to contradict her realms of nothingness, and it took a long while for her to actually notice, so lost was she within the worlds within her mind.
The bag deflated for lengthy minutes, the release of its hold leaving her slack within it, too used to one enforced position to be able to find any other. It was like her body had forgotten how to move and needed time to dredge in its old memories to bring out the recall.
The head of the garment was taken and lifted up, causing her to spill from within it, reborn into reality from a rubber womb. Had she possessed even the vaguest shred of body heat she would have been soaked with sweat, drawn through a long and sweltering ordeal within 136
the consuming folds.
Spilling onto the floor she flopped into a tangled and loose heap, unable to affect her own movement, her eyes screwed tightly shut against the meagre light of the chamber.
‘I trust you have studied hard, slave?’ came a female voice, and it took a moment for Kira to gain enough awareness that these really were her true surroundings.
Then she recognised that Cassandra was talking to her, and this was not yet another hallucination plaguing her hunger for sexual release.
‘Yes, seneschal,’ she croaked, having trouble straining the words out.
‘You will be glad to know that your time as a pain slave is at an end. It’s time to place you in a caste more appropriate to my needs. I think you’ll like being my pet, don’t you?’ she said with a sharp edge to her voice, almost like mocking, as though she expected Kira to resent such a fate.
‘I will, seneschal, I will… I missed you so,’ she managed to say weakly, her words skipping out as she thought them. The need to feel something real was too pressing to deny, and despite the lethargy in her limbs she pushed herself into fighting to move. She could not see, she had to at least feel that the woman was actually here. Guessing at where she was, she squirmed over and nuzzled her cheek to Cassandra’s boot. It felt good to have the latex footwear against her face, to know that her owner was real and here.
There was a shocked pause, as though the seneschal had been caught off guard by Kira’s response, then, instant fire swept through her rear, making Kira fling herself aside.
137
‘I gave you no permission to touch me, slave!’ hissed the woman, an incensed tone spilling through her clenched teeth.
‘I… I’m sorry, seneschal,’ whimpered Kira from her lowly position, relishing the throb of the weal, for it was the first real sensation she had felt in a long time.
‘Sorry? You’ll really learn sorrow, slave!’ A heel settled into her body, pinning her down. ‘As my pet you will not speak, and you will do exactly as I command. I’ll train you to perform, to obey my orders, to erase your very sentience, wipe it from your mind and leave you as a genuine beast. But that can wait, first we have to get you into your uniform,’ and a hand reached down, snapping a leash to Kira’s collar.
‘Follow me on all fours, slave,’ she said with firm tones, tugging on the chain links to have Kira rise and stumble with reckless gait. The world was still a dazzling sheet of indistinct patterns and motions before her, her eyes still readjusting, her faith being placed totally in the guidance of the seneschal. Her legs and arms were stiff, barely able to meet the demands of the slow trek, but with effort and the occasional lick of the brutal cane to her cheeks, she made the journey.
A door closed and she found herself in a new room, blinking, her vision finally starting to bring clarity out of the chaos. The seneschal stood before her, the elegant curves of the female raising Kira’s hunger to find pleasure. The woman was more beautiful than she ever remembered, her starved eyes feasting on the latex and mesh bound curves of the stern vampiress.
A pang of cramp tightened her arms, the myalgia spreading out with barbed tendrils from he
r heart as it sought an end to its blood thirst. The seneschal saw the 138
advancing stages of hunger and merely aired a soft titter.
‘Not yet, my pet, we have to get you dressed first,’ she stated, her arms crossed, the cane jutting out from her tight fist, her legs apart to keep an arrogant facade.
Cuddled into a ball, holding herself tightly as she continued to endure the growing pain, Kira let her eyes wander the scene.
It was a large room, furnished expensively in the geometric shapes and striking hues of the styles produced in the eighties. A raised area accessed by zigzagging steps lifted away from the plush and deep carpet of pinks and blues. Painted with a contrasting zigzag black and white pattern, the stage bore a diamond shaped glass table, with four high-backed chairs about it.
A number of large plastic bowls were held aloft by a fluted foot on each, the interior filled with crazy patterned cushions, making the nest-like armchairs places in which to curl and find comfort. They were sporadically placed about a large television, the area beneath it being a glass opaque cabinet filled with other technological entertainment systems.
Two doors found exit from the room, and clustered patterns of acute shapes surrounded the lights on the walls, staining the emanations a variety of shades as they spilled through.
The seneschal clapped her hands thrice, causing the door on the left to open and two strong-limbed men to emerge. Tall, with solid banks of athletic muscles, their faces were hidden within tight rubber hoods, the dense helmet only broken by the two small eyeholes that served to allow them sight. Their maws were stretched, and no breathing vents existed, testifying that these were vampires as well.
139
Fitted with collars, they also wore firm stainless steel chastity belts of the type that brought Kira so much distress.
Moonspawn Page 12
