by Merri Wyllow, c. 2000
Author's note: A certain someone, who remains nameless here, deserves some credit for the direction this story took. You know who you are. However that may be, all of the words as they appear here are the sole property of the author.
WARNING: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex acts as well as rough language. If you are under 18 years old, or offended by stories of this kind, please read no further.
There were footsteps in the hall. She heard them through a fog. And through the fog, she almost wondered at them, considering the daylight streaming into the room through a small, open window. Nor was she quite conscious when the door opened and a man entered. He was tall, inches over six feet, lean and long-boned. Blond hair that hung past his chin in a gentle wave looked like the only gentle part of him.
He stared at her for moments before she woke to his presence. It was a heavy-lidded stare as he took in the sight of her bare, slim body. He judged her to be five feet four inches tall, weighing no more than one-hundred five pounds in her weakened condition. The draught from the barred window gave her gooseflesh, and tightened her nipples. A corner of his lips twitched nearly into a half-smile. There would be no telling whether there was enjoyment in those lips then or anger.
As she became aware of the man, without knowing who he was, she allowed hope to kindle. Even if he were the master's servant, she might have a chance, while the master slept.
After studying her for those moments, he walked around the edge of the room. Stopping under the window, he pulled the cord to shut the blinds.
Mustering her strength, she asked the man, "Does he know you are here?"
He waited a moment. "I have not yet announced my presence, why?" he answered, walking over to the side of the bed.
"He keeps the key in the little drawer in that table by the door. If you unchained me, I would do things for you - whatever you want. I would be very grateful."
"If I unchain you it won't do any good. You aren't strong enough to make it to the door on your own." He grabbed her shackled wrist, stretched out her arm, and stroked it, tracing around the marks as he spoke.
"You could help me. I would do whatever you ask, whatever you like, for as long as you want. You wouldn't be disappointed." Her voice was low, quiet, while she spoke. She struggled to keep up her strength and sound suggestive.
"Why bother bargaining with me?" His hand slid down her arm to her breast. He traced around it, then zeroed in on her nipple, teasing it until it became painfully hard, then alternately pinching and massaging it. "I could take you now, if I wanted."
"That would be like fucking a cut flower - you could only do it once before it dies. He doesn't care anymore about preserving his resources. He's planning to finish me soon. You could take me anywhere, anytime, if you got me out of here. Please," she begged, her voice weakened with desperation, "please, there isn't anything else to pay you with."
He leaned over her face, close enough so that in the dim light she clearly saw the color of his eyes - not brown like she had originally thought, but a dark, dark red. A frisson of fear shot through her, starting at her scalp and traveling to the juncture between her legs. One who could remain awake in sunlit hours was very powerful.
He whispered almost breathlessly in her ear, "Very soon now, he will care. But that does not matter. There is something else you could offer. Open yourself to me," he commanded.
His eyes stared hard into hers, his will boring deep into hers. "Whatever marks my junior has made on you are mine. You are no longer the fledgling's property. What I command, you do." While he spoke, her mind lost it's grounding in reality. Mental and physical vertigo became her world. Quickly though, the roiling of her mind ceased. A measure of warmth and strength crept into her limbs.
His hand left her breast and traveled down her belly, fingers spreading out to rake through the thatch of hair between her legs. He smiled, warmly this time, as he felt that her previous fear resulted in wet arousal. His mind still held hers as he rubbed at her center, palm over her clitoris, fingers one by one pushing into the lips of her vulva. He traced his fingers into the slick pool of moisture, dragging them slowly around her sensitized nub. He could feel the pulse there strengthen, beating harder in time to his strokes.
Kneeling down by the edge of the bed, he pulled at her leg so that she slid closer to him. He lifted the leg over his shoulder, stretching her legs open to him, pinning them with a vice-grip of soulless strength. He pushed at her clit with his nose, bringing a soft moan from her mouth. Then he began circling quickly with his tongue, causing a cascade of pleasure, a new pulse of spasming muscles throughout her belly. Inserting two fingers into her tightened core, he stroked at her - hand and tongue moving in unison. The throbbing pleasure became stronger, unbearable. She cried out as her hips twitched at his direction.
Just as she heaved in a hard breath, preparing to scream her climax, he thrust his teeth against her pulsing flesh. Fangs dug into the hood over her clitoris, drawing a sweet flow of blood. Screaming, she lost herself in a flood of sharp pleasure while he lapped at the nourishment of her fluids. Her body bucked against him, then slowly stilled.
While she yet panted in recovery, he bared an arm. The other hand brought her head up and he put his wrist to her mouth. Their eyes met. He nodded. For a moment, she balked, but his mind once again filled hers, and without will she bit him, sucking away the cooling blood that welled up into her mouth. As she took in his strength, the last of her weakness drained away. She would be bent to his will, but always would pulse with his power. To be beheaded or completely comsumed by fire her only death until he met his.
Swiftly he retrieved the key and unchained her. She draped herself with a sheet off the bed, and they swept out of the room. Soon she would drink vengence from the cup of her former master's death.
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