Vampire | Moonslave | latex bdsm stories

Chaotic gusts slammed themselves against Kira’s insensible skin, trying to dislodge her from her perch.

The latex uniform denied any real feeling, almost rendering the strong winds undetected to the areas smothered by it. The cold did not matter to Kira though; all heat had vanished from her body when the Malefic Kiss had changed her forever.

Crouching, the buckled straps that pinned her legs together and made her walk on her knees had been released, allowing her to scamper on all fours with greater speed.

The stern leotard that compressed her body set loose her bare breasts, buckled straps at the base making them swell beneath her. The crotch strap rested against the firm contours of her steel chastity belt, the device keeping two mechanised dildos sheathed deep within her. The toys had shocked and pleasured her dozens of times, and her frustration at being teased and constantly denied was accentuated by the fact that she herself had asked to have it put back on.

Her latex hood opened a slit for her mouth and a visor for her eyes, the mirrored panel protecting her from the torrents of dust in the air. Her ears flapped in the breeze, the pointed latex examples standing pert on her head, striving to fight off the winds.

Nervously she started furling her fingers and toes against the fitted paws that trapped her extremities in stockings and gloves, the garments connected to her 5 leotard by tight straps.

It was strange to be in the open after all this time. The last occasion she had tasted the air of the surface world she had been a fledgling vampire, staggering through the darkness, wracked by pain and thirst, ignorant of what she was, confused, hunted, desperate.

The world seemed so much different now, a place to which she was immune, its hostility kept from her by the cruel deity standing beside her.

Her owner was beside her on the edge of the roof, holding the leash affixed to Kira’s collar, displaying her complete control of her trained pet. Tall and defiant of the elements as they pounded against her shapely form she watched the street below, her angular features saturnine, her eyes intense in their search. Her short blonde tresses were pinned beneath the unmarked peaked cap, the rest of her attire also following this precedent to imitate a police uniform.

A crisp dark blue shirt, its short sleeves rippling against her strong limbs bore a matching tie that flapped freely in the breeze, her breasts pushing against the tight garment. Her hands were fists within leather gloves and she patted one against her side in anxious anticipation, the only display of emotion she currently offered to the outside world.

Kira’s hungry eyes panned down the short latex skirt gripping her owner’s body and for her own gratification she lingered down the burnished rubber stockings that revealed her contours before vanishing into knee high leather boots. Perched atop them, she seemed even more powerful because of this authoritarian influence to her attire.

How she adored this woman, the seneschal of the world below the city, who ruled it in the name of its undisputed 6 and sublime queen. It was so comforting to be owned, to be treated to constant attention, be it painful or pleasurable, protected and soothed by her enslavement.

Looking to the sky, she watched the clouds as they stampeded from horizon to horizon, driven by the thrashing gale. The moon and stars were hidden by the unbroken sheet, depriving her of her first glimpse of the night sky since she had surrendered herself to the ownership of others.

The city itself was quiet, the extreme lateness of the hour having taken even the most stalwart revellers to their beds. In a short time, with the approach of dawn, life would start to return. It was as though the sun itself was the power that fuelled the actions of mortals, and once it had fled the sky they operated on the benefits of enthusiasm, drink, or drugs to steal more energy lest they collapse into slumber.

The street below was totally deserted but for litter, the meandering canyons of the roads funnelling the winds, twisting them, creating savage eddies.

The old buildings were ramshackle and seemed to lean on each other for support, unable to stand by themselves any longer. The ground floors were businesses, their neon arrays spilling proud slogans and emblems into the darkness. Above them all was fortified, every breech in the smog-stained brickwork fitted with bars, mesh, barbed wire, or simply boarded shut.

A clue of movement across the street on another roof drew Kira’s eyes into the depths of the shadows. A massive fur-covered form moved from a well of darkness into regions of greater shadow, losing its monstrous shape amidst the pipes and vents of the roof.

Kira squinted, trying to find him, recognising the form as Thanos. The lupine was part of the mission, a vital 7 part, for he alone stood any chance against their quarry.

Her feelings for him were still muddled. The ferocious love they had made still gave her tingling shudders whenever she recalled it, and they were kindred creatures, but he was the pet of the queen and was utterly besotted with his owner. What sort of rival would she be for his affections when placed against their supreme and radiant goddess? And besides, as slaves, what chance had they to continue any relationship? They had been thrown together to entertain visiting dignitaries with their suffering and bliss. When would such a fortuitous set of circumstances bring this about again?

‘About time,’ muttered Cassandra, stepping back a little after spying the approach of their target.

A haggard form strolled into the sporadic aura of the few functional streetlights down the road. Clad in battered clothing she was wrapped in multiple layers, cloaking herself against the chill, her long blonde hair tangled into misshapen tentacles.

Her steps were shuffled, her back hunched; the feeling of despair was almost tangible around her, making pangs of pity enter Kira’s dead heart. Soon though, she would have such burdens removed.

The woman slowed as she neared the unmarked door that was entry to her home and sniffed the air. For a moment she turned her head, looking across the street, smelling the wind, having clearly picked up a scent.

‘Scratch two ghouls,’ chuckled Cassandra to herself, commenting on the fact that the ambush had been detected.

The woman stepped beside her door and reached out, bobbing a hand before the peephole and then jolting it back. Instantly the surface started to erupt outward, geysers of splinters punching through the surface as the 8 wanton spray of silenced gunshots ate through the flimsy barrier. The car parked before the house sparked as holes were punished in its rusted paintwork, the side windows staving in with shattering crashes.

As soon as she had ducked back the woman flung off her coats, her body unfolding from within itself. In a split second her sinewy frame had arisen four feet in height and donned a pelt of bristling pale fur. Armies of iron muscles rustled beneath the dense hide, her legs taking canine qualities as her snout elongated, spilling forth arsenals of lethal fangs. Dagger talons leapt from her huge hands, a ferocious red light flashing into life within her eyes as a burly form burst through the weakened structure of the door.

Cradling a silenced AK-47, the assault rifle was aimed forward to continue the attack at closer range. The man was dressed in black overalls with a flak vest laid over them. His belt was equipped with a silver blade and spare magazines trying to prepare him for this most one-sided of conflicts. A ski mask hid his features, and leather gloves prevented the leaving of fingerprints.

The moment his booted feet crunched into the debris the woman acted with a speed that reduced her to a smear of motion. Spinning forward a set of claws flashed out, gouging effortlessly through the armoured vest and the flesh beneath. His entire mid-section spilled back, reduced to a smudge of gore that splashed back into the house. His torso somersaulted in the air and dropped with a moist squelch, his arms scrabbling in abject panic, his mouth stretched wide, his eyes bulging as his legs were slammed to the wall and toppled to the pavement.

Reaching in the woman grabbed the second ghoul about the throat before his finger could even squeeze the trigger.

With a wrench of her titanic muscles he was hauled from 9 the narrow corridor and delivered face first into the side of the car. The metal door caved in with a metallic screech, letting the body hang half in and half out of the puncture, his head dribbling lines of red from his torn scalp and fractured skull.

The woman turned to finish off the creature, stepping towards him, flexing her blood-drenched claws.

As the sound of bones re-knitting and tissues rustling closed came from the stunned ghoul, there was a soft whistle of air as a massive form sped through it.

Thanos kicked out before he landed, his clawed foot slamming into her back, sending her careering forward to slap violently against the car, denting the metal chassis.

Landing gracefully his claws scraped against the concrete as he danced forward and repeated his attack, driving her against the vehicle again. With a ringing pound she struck the surface, forcing the car out into the road, its tyres squealing, the potency of the two beasts beyond equal.

Jumping forward Thanos launched a punch into her flank, only to have his dazed opponent twist aside, letting the fist pierce the engine block, sinking in to the bicep.

Continuing her twirl she span back, throwing a grievous backhand punch, gathering extra momentum for her attack, turning the dodge into a virulent assault.

Caught off balance the extremity skimmed Thanos’

face with a bright crack, tearing him from the car and sending him skimming backwards on the preternatural impetus.

With a splintering symphony his back drove through metal shutters and the glass panes beyond before he landed harshly on his shoulder blades. Rolling clumsily backwards the shop counter was demolished by his route and left him sprawled within its wreckage. The till landed 10 heavily in his lap, making him croak with shock before he swatted it angrily aside.

Kira winced at the sight, wondering if Thanos were seriously injured, her attention to the scene being diverted as a soft muffled thump, like a reversed cough, came from a rooftop opposite.

A sickly cloud of green and black rolled down as a minute tornado that crackled with opaque lightning. The diminutive storm dissipated, fading to reveal through arising hints of clarity the figure within.

She had seen the male before, on the first night of her recruitment. He had been standing in the throne room of the queen, studying her with intrigue. If she recalled correctly, the queen had called him Duke Khardekk.

In his mid-twenties, his countenance was friendly, carefree, a marked contradiction to his icy stare. His loosed blue hair danced upon the wind, his pinstripe suit rippling against it, exposing the sparkling silver lining within.

Taking the half-devoured cigarette from his lips he flicked it into the breeze and clapped his hands together in preparation.

The wolfen female span and looked up, casting her gaze first to Kira and Cassandra, and then to the new arrival. Releasing a snarling roar, she vaulted the car and stormed towards the duke.

With a savage smirk he frowned, drawing his concentration, focusing his strength and his will. Kira had thought him another vampire when she first met him, but now it seemed he was something far different.

Locking his fingers into an occult configuration, the intricate knot of digits were swallowed by a welling opaque light, the jet halo devouring the light, paining the eyes to bear witness to it.

The skies shivered, a restless and disturbed quiver running through the fabric of reality as its limits were tested. With a crackling boom a jagged arc of radiant white lanced from the heavens. The lightning strike connected with Corin, ripping into her sprinting form, hiding her amidst an eruption of dazzling sparks and light.

The intensity momentarily dazzled Kira, making her blink and see nothing but the afterimage of the lightning, etched onto her vision. As it cleared she saw the woman on her knees, panting, her fur charred, smoke rising from her flesh as she shook with endurance.

With a muttered growl she threw herself back to her feet and tried to continue, her steps weak, dropping from side to side, her awareness faltering from the extreme straits of the ordeal.

The echo of the thunderclap still rolled upon the sky, powerful in their ears as all watched the duke produce a slender arcane blade. The small knife had a wavy edge, the flat surface flecked with small teeth, the hilt and guard shaped like extended claws, encrusted with dark gems and strange runes.

Lifting the blade he extended his tongue and ran the edge down the centre, drawing blood. Adding three more slashes, he withdrew the organ. Closing his eyes with concentration, playful jolts of midnight power started to crackle across the expensive cut of his suit, jumping from limb to limb as his skin seemed to shiver. With a startled jolt he leant over, retching, his eyes flashing open and reduced to pulsing wells of darkness. His jaws strained impossibly wide, and a terrible gurgling choke poured free.

His neck rippled with the passage of some internal trespasser, and from the presented rictus spewed a snaking tendril. The solid length spilled over his lips, 12 rearing up, slithering against the roof, continuing to extract itself.

More and more poured free, the amount produced impossible to fit within his structure. When the acute tail finally came free the writhing coils of squirming condensed shadow had to have been at least fifty feet in length.

The duke licked his lips and straightened, leaving his creation to do its work. The beast spilled down the side of the building, rushing towards the staggering woman and throwing itself around her. She squealed in panic, slashing at the body of the conjuration, but where her claws ripped through it the sundered segments merely continued, each part of it filled with animation and purpose. Her arms were captured and drawn in, the coils surrounding her form, slowly cocooning her, their cumulative strength more than a match for her in her enfeebled condition.

Howling in dismay she thrashed against them, her muscles flexing and straining with all their might. The cry was cut off as one end of the tendril plunged down her throat, making her eyes bulge in calamity, the addition of swift lengths about her snout, stopping her from biting it off. The creation began to feed her recycled air; air filled with soporific gases, and as the final coils gathered in and smothered her she was fully mummified, the bonds sealing together, leaving no portion of her visible.

The massive form swayed like a tree in the wind, and then dropped, cracking the tarmac with her weight. She wriggled in her sheath for a few seconds and then went still, dispatched into coma by the duke’s sorcerous beast.

Having loaded their captive in a van, the taskforce returned to the subterranean palace. The realm was hidden deep, engulfing a vast nuclear shelter and several forsaken constructions of antiquity, converting them, changing them into a vast labyrinth of pain and pleasure.

Kira sighed as her straps were tightened back into place, lifting her calves and pressing them to her thighs, restoring her complete pet mode.

The seneschal slapped Kira’s rump, the clap of leather to latex sending warm stinging feeling through the dense material.

Tugging on her lead, she was set scampering beside her owner, the woman striding down the stone corridors of the upper palace, the other slaves bowing deeply as she passed them by. The activity had increased immensely since last she had travelled through the upper regions where guests and visitors of the queen’s will resided.

The wide passage of the main corridor gave way to side routes, each first accessing a large and comfortably outfitted lounge, a crossroads that fed into interior passages where entrance to personal rooms was given.

It was in these chambers that the bedrooms, the facilities, the playrooms and dungeons were located.

Whole sets of these self-sufficient wings were devoted to one type of visitor. As well as their own serviles, each set of representatives had an army of royal slaves attending their desires. Servants of the queen ferried possessions and gifts, delivered furniture slaves, towed 14 in harem slaves, transported and escorted with as spry a step as their various bondage uniforms permitted.

Amidst the plethora of royal subjects the guests themselves were easily distinguished. As she was led through she spotted the locations devoted to the Japanese Clan. The oriental vampire warlords were regal and sombre as they moved through their lounge, pets at their feet, handmaidens trailing in their wake. The concubines held slaves in tow as well, and amidst their numbers she spotted one of the latex nuns that had tormented her on stage for the delectation of the group.

Kira tried to focus on the woman, to see if she could spot what one of the six the woman was, but she was carried past the entrance before she could tell.

The bustle of life was a contrast to the serene quiet she had seen earlier, and she could now see that such a time of docile tranquillity was merely the calm before this debauched storm.

From her path she peeked into another lounge, this one laden with men and woman from what seemed to be all walks of life. Dressed immaculately, some wore suits or other business attire, and others were more in favour of ceremonial robes, the hems laced with strange runes.

Others placed themselves clearly in the category of the dominant, adorning themselves with leather, latex and vinyl, but all of them without exception were visions of pulchritude. There was not a single blemish on their skin, no impairment to their features or their bodies. Yet it was a strange perfection, one that seemed somehow false.

The skin seemed real enough, but it felt illusionary, as though it were not really part of them. There was something that just didn’t look natural, a niggling doubt Kira could not fully place but which would not depart.

Amidst them she spotted Duke Khardekk, emphatically 15 gesturing as he relayed the story of Corin’s capture to his fellows, his audience entranced by his words. It seemed little different to the scene of a country club or group of friends socialising.

However, their personal slaves were far less mundane of visage. The men and women were moulded like clay by the hands and will of their owners. The same castes as existed in the palace were evident, but the imposition of a uniform upon the flesh of the slave had not been enough for their masters and mistresses.

Kira looked with aghast and appalled fascination upon the sights. For a moment she had thought them adorned by flesh-coloured sculptures and additions to their uniform, but then, as though this misconception were brushed aside to let reality dawn, she noticed that the additions were organic. Those formed into pets had real tails, snouts, pricked ears and paws, their fingers retracted and formed into accurate representations of bestial extremities.

Those charged with providing light were restrained stems, their bodies squeezed into a rigid stance, their skin merged to deny them limbs as the skin of their bald heads released a soft phosphorus radiance. With the very structure of their cells reconfigured to create light, they simply stood and shuddered on occasion, the process of such generation not being a completely painless one.

The furniture slaves were rigid and inflexible, their uniforms aided by the manipulation of their very structure to hold them still and help serve their singular purpose.

A coat stand had fingers emerging from every area of her torso, and she held them crooked to serve her purpose more effectively. The tables had been merged with chitinous shells, making their backs smooth and flat so as to accept more burdens. Those serving as seat or 16 footstool had their arms and legs fused to their sides, depriving them of any other lot, their mouths sealed over into a sheet of unblemished flesh. A woman shoe cleaner had been treated to similar melding, and her long and prehensile tongue spilled from her lips as she crawled to and fro, the yard long stalk able to dedicate to this task with great efficiency.

The source of such terrible mutilation was immediately apparent, for the men and women holding court in the lounge made constant displays of their power.

Crackling flashes of black energy, tainted by putrid greens, grim blues, ghastly reds and rancid yellows were often set lose, the shamanic followers of the Wyrm using their sorcerous abilities for even the most trivial things.

In the moments she grasped while passing this sight she caught sight of slaves being transformed. The hands of owners merely took hold of the limb and guided their arcane will into it, making the meat and skin dance to their hermetic tune and reform as they desired. The effects were also being reversed, changing slaves into and out of various castes, releasing them to serve more effectively in a fully human capacity.

Removed from their presence, Kira had a horrible sense of apprehension about ever surrendering to one of these wizards. To be transformed and twisted at their mere glance and touch? It was a tantalising thought, but one that also disturbed her greatly. It was such an alien power to her, something so strange and unknown that it caused an instinctive and consuming dread.

A tug to the lead overwhelmed her loitering intent and Kira continued her walk, passing by the last of the inhabited wings before she reached the access hall of the throne room and the private regions of the palace.

These were by far the most intimidating of the guests; 17 the lupine followers of the Wyrm. Black of fur they reclined in their full wolfen forms, as mountains of lethal muscle, claw and fang, their eyes burning with incarnadine auras.

Royal slaves tended their needs, intrigued and frightened by the monstrous beasts before them. The strength and pernicious qualities of the lupine were well known to all vampires; it was what made them the most deadly of archenemies, and was the reason for the nervousness of the slaves.

From her lessons of initiation she knew that these beasts followed the dark and corrupted power called the Wyrm, fighting against the purity of the earth that other lupines defended and called Gaia. The vampire was as much a felon against the Wyrm with its abstaining from the laws of nature as it was to Gaia, just as these beasts were enemies of the witches and warlocks from the previous wing. The dark shaman stole and manipulated the power of their chosen force, enraging the lupines who were fed it to permit their radical changes and who defended their deity with fervour.

Yet all who had come here were guests of the queen and were held in peace by a devotion to debauchery.

Where ordinary versions of their kind would fall on each other with fangs, claws and charms, here, in the hallowed halls of the queen, these decadent sects and tribes had found an uneasy peace and common ground.

Already in the waiting room certain guests contemplated their chance at an audience with her majesty, monitored by grim-faced vampire guards. The goliath sentinels were placed strategically about the room, their weapons ready, their eyes hidden behind dark goggles, making it clear that peace was the only option here.

Kira had not seen them in this area before, but with so many feudal groups abroad it was obvious that precautions had been taken to ensure all knew who ruled here. Some of those waiting were people from the ranks of the guests, others were vampire lords or ghoul messengers from the rest of the world, stationed in private quarters as they awaited the completion of their business.

Many were uneasy at the sight of the carnal slavery about them, the vampires rigid and aloof, disdainful of such prurience. They were here to see the queen on matters of business and finance, questions of power and territory. Controlling the city had set her tendrils of influence throughout the globe, her power vast, her claws delving deep into multi-national corporations, banks, businesses, politics, the stock exchanges, even the military, law enforcement and organised crime. With such might at her disposal, other vampire houses that required assistance or her permission to undertake their schemes readily made the long journey to seek audience with her or her advisors.

The elevator arrived, the massive doors opening and letting three men step out and march gruffly away from the trio of guards stationed within. Kira’s jaw dropped at the sight of them. She knew their faces, she knew them as high level politicians from aboard, people she had seen on television dozens of times speaking out against their various targeted problems and causes. The notion of some supernatural force holding the reigns of power in every quarter had seemed a little incredulous, but now this sight had confirmed it. In fact, it made sense.

Who would not be swayed when offered immortality, strength and immunity to disease and harm, the power of backing from these creatures, and the possibility of being made a full vampire once they proved themselves 19 worthy? Some mortals could be gained for far less of course, simply for money. If any suffered from incurable illness or ailment the blood would be their cure, and wavering fealty would result in deprivation and swift ageing and death. It was a state of affairs so perfect it would be easy to leave it undetected, for only through betrayal would it come to light, and who would risk such a foolish gamble with the high level stakes that were involved?

The lift doors hummed and swung back into place, beginning their descent and carrying them to the centre of the queen’s power.

Kira was led to the side and into the obscure regions hidden behind the pillars. They did not emerge into the vast cathedral of the hall; instead they proceeded directly into the side passage that accessed the private regions where only the denizens of the palace might go.

Guards were stationed throughout the throne room, and another three manned every access point to the rest of the palace. These soldiers of the queen’s military were more heavily armed. They cradled automatic shotguns or assault rifles in readiness, each of the weapons fitted with laser scope, silver bayonet, and doubtlessly with silver ammunition as well. Of course, they were still armed with the additional arsenal of sub-machine gun, pistol, silver knives and sabres, plus a set of composite plastic stakes, all of it making them formidable indeed.

The warriors kept wary eyes to the new arrivals, their paranoia rampant with so many possible assassins abroad.

Taken into the soft carpeted tunnels, Kira was escorted deep into the winding maze and to a slim passage with two guards stationed at the end, a heavy armoured door drawn aside by straining hydraulics to reveal the cell of the lupine.

The woman was awake, in human form and petrified, struggling vainly against her bonds. She was disturbed and repelled by her appearance. Not because she was naked, for such a state did not really trouble the wild tribes; instead, she was disturbed by the additions of latex garments to her. It was as though such fetish materials were deeply associated with perversity and decadence, aspects she reviled, and to be adorned with them somehow corrupted her.

A latex girdle threw thin straps over her shoulders and compressed her admirable breasts, the garment squeezing as it flowed over her strong contours and unleashed suspenders that grabbed her rubber stockings. Opera gloves spiralled up her arms, and one of the segmented collars encircled her throat.

Since her capture she had been washed and shaved, her pudenda now bald and the tangled knots of her unruly hair defeated by their removal, her hair now cut into a brief bob.

The room was small and dark, apparently without any features save the primary core to its purpose. A padded reclining plate supported her back and her head. She was stopped from slipping down by the two long arms of steel that reached from the sturdy base of the chair, rising up above her and holding two dense shackles. Her arms reached out and up, stretched taut to enter the unforgiving limbs of the furniture, pinning her down.

Another set of such restraints extended downwards, snagging her ankles within fetters, splaying her legs wide, exposing her nude sex and rear, leaving her open and accessible, a state that was obviously making her mad with anxiety.

A spotlight directly over her released a cone of dazzling white that revealed her as the star attraction of the room, 21 rendering all that lay without the powerful beam dark and obscure to the woman within.

As they came in and she beheld the seneschal and her pet, and more importantly, the open door, her face rippled with strain as she forced her change. Her skin quaked with the internal release of force, her flesh answering the call of metamorphosis as the power of Gaia started to flow through her. Suddenly the collar decided that it was being stretched enough, and applied its charged discipline to her.

The crackling growl of the device dragged a startled cry from her lips and as she forced herself onwards the intensity started to grow with it. Finally she gave up, the searing abuse of the collar making her release the reigns of her willpower. With the influx of power cut her body shuddered and folded back into itself, restoring her ordinary mortal appearance.

‘Undead filth!’ she wailed, tears of frustration in her eyes. Let me go!’

The door whirred shut and set its dense locks in place, giving them privacy and depriving Corin of any true means of escape. Her ordinary physique was far too feeble to break down such a barrier, even if first she could somehow break get of the engine of restraint to which she was served.

‘Such words of protest from a naughty pet,’ purred the seneschal, strolling past the woman, running a hand up her body, the latex squeaking against her leather gloves, her skin smooth to the touch, moist with sweat from her struggle to break free.

‘Please, please let me go,’ she whimpered, her outrage dropping into imploring. It was clear that her sanity was being grievously taxed. She had lived a life of unending strain and oppression since coming to the city, and where 22 a few years ago she would have died rather than speak to a vampire, now she was a meek and harried shadow of her former self.

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ mocked the seneschal, obviously taking great relish in seeing this exquisite and deadly female grovelling for her freedom, helpless and bound under her gaze. ‘We have decided to give you a gift, and what sort of hosts would we be if we deprived you of such a wondrous present.’

‘I don’t want it, I just want to leave,’ Corin began, her words humble before she thrashed against her bonds and continued with outrage. ‘Let me go!’

The seneschal went to the wall and turned a section of it, revealing a small and dark cupboard from which she removed a stern gag. She walked back to the trapped female, who struggled and battled to get away, throwing her face away from the seneschal in a bid to avoid being muted.

The vampiress grabbed her chin and drew it back, overcoming her strength. In full form the lupine was infinitely stronger, but trapped in this current facade she was just very strong for a mortal, and nothing compared to the ancient developed might of the vampiress.

Gurgling, she fought as her jaws were opened and the inflatable gag threaded in. Applying the buckled straps under her chin and around her head, an inverted Y ran the sides of her nose, joined and then wandered over her head to connect to the back strap. Tightening it to a firm fit, the seneschal set the locks in place and started to screw the inflator bulb onto the bobbing nozzle.

Kira watched with fascinated eyes as the woman struggled, her eyes bulging as she retched in convulsions from the feel of the swelling orb in her mouth. Kira knew from personal experience what was happening, and drew 23 forth such recall as she watched, wishing she could reach to her submerged sex and stroke herself as she watched, the arousal of such gagging being a fond memory. Her tongue would be slapping against the rubber tang, trying to fight it before being remorselessly crushed into the bottom of her mouth, the tip extending to the back of her throat, her jaws being stretched until they ached. Just recalling the feeling of being deprived of speech, of the dull thumping ache in the corners of her mouth, the feel of saliva flooding in her mouth, swallowing almost being impossible, it had Kira yearning to replace the woman.

But she to had once been akin to this captive, afraid of the unknown, of surrendering to the licentious appetites of vice. She had learned differently since, and so too would the lupine.

Removing the inflator the seneschal ran a finger along the tight straps, tracing their configuration and ignoring the tear-filled eyes of the woman. ‘You have been sacrificing yourself for a long time now, Corin,’ she stated. ‘It’s time you were relinquished of such nonsense.

Give yourself over to us and we’ll give you pleasures you’ve never even dreamed of.’

Corin’s rampant battle to get free was the answer, muted bellows seeping through the intruding gag.

‘It’s inevitable, Corin,’ reported the seneschal, moving to the cupboard once more, removing a single bag of blood. ‘We are going to break you. You will be trained to be obedient, faithful and appreciative of your slavery.

Have no doubts that we will achieve this; it is only a matter of time. We’ve done it thousands of times and have never failed once. So you had best resign yourself to such a fate, it will be easier that way.’ She held up the bag. ‘This is the essence of a vampire. I am going to feed it to you and taint that precious flesh of yours. I am 24 going to turn you into a ghoul, Corin. Once this is done, you can never go back. Your tribe will see the taint upon you, will think you no more than one of us, and will kill or exile you. This is your home now, and we are your people, Corin,’ confessed the seneschal, removing the long tube and putting it to a socket on the front of the gag plate.

The self-sealing aperture swallowed the thin tube, and as the seneschal started to feed more of it in the pipe migrated around the bloated rubber balloon and started to glide down Corin’s throat. The woman moaned and struggled, beset by the horror of what was happening to her, knowing that if she let herself be fed this undead vitality her life as she knew it would be over.

It was arousing for Kira to watch her buck and squirm, just as she herself had done in times past. But it was a valuable ordeal, one that would sever her ties to her former life and help dedicate her to her own fulfilment as a slave to the queen.

Lifting the bag the seneschal turned a valve and watched Corin’s mortified look as the line of crimson started to dribble down towards her gag. Muted screeches of denial were spilling from the implement as the red trickle reached the faceplate. Her hands were straining down, her fingers wriggling like worms as they sought to reach it and yank the pipe out, and when she felt the cool power of the blood enter her stomach she broke in paroxysms of torment. The feel of the dark life infecting her, sending its power through her form, changing her, throwing off the claws of time with a rude shove, confirmed without doubt that she had been despoiled.

The woman sagged, defeated, sobbing uncontrollably at this crime committed upon her.

There, it’s okay, slave, someone will remove this later, purred the seneschal with a soothing tone, stroking the damp blonde hair of the woman as she wept freely. ‘But for now we’re going to leave you to think awhile. Before we go however, we’re going to set you up with a little toy or two, to help influence you in your deliberations, stated the seneschal with a wicked smile, and drew Kira in by her leash before leading her around and between the woman’s splayed legs.

Slave, lubricate the new recruit with your tongue,’

she commanded, drawing Kira in with the chain links, pressing her face to the naked sex of the lupine.

Without further need of command Kira buried her lips to those of the woman, letting her tongue spill through and taste deeply of the lupine. Savouring the tang of the woman she began to lap at her warm clitoris, bringing both protests and shudders of delight from her partner.

The woman was outraged that another woman, especially a vampire, was having her thus, but the pleasure of it was a heavy weight against fully reviling it.

Kira teased her with skill, suckling and nipping, using all the tricks she recalled the queen having used on her when she was still mortal, and such tactics gained superlative results.

Changing briefly to the rear of the woman Kira let her tongue trail through the shaven valley, kissing the puckered opening as it clenched and fought her passage.

With a forceful plunge Kira opened the sphincter and stole her entry, causing the prisoner to quiver, plagued by the strange sensation, unsure of how to respond to it.

After driving in and fulfilling her task there, Kira left this opening and returned to the cunnilingus, offering as much compensation to the woman as she could. She was suffering in her capture, but she could at least taste some pleasures before her training continued. Kira revelled in 26 the feel of the hot-blooded female on her cold organ, spreading heat through her mouth as she worked.

Opening another section of wall the seneschal brought out a metal frame. The apparatus connected between the leg struts, slotting into a locking slot and reaching below Corin’s suspended hindquarters. ‘That will do, slave,’

stated Kira’s owner, pushing her away to make room for the new array.

Two adjustable poles presented strange metal plugs on their tips, and by moving these into position the articulated arms were able to thrust their polished silver rods into moist openings, sheathing as deep as they could.

The metal had been deliberately allowed to stay cold, the shock of its intrusion testing whether or not she could get free of them as she jolted and tried to get away.

Tightening the joints, and satisfied that they were immobile, the seneschal locked them down and continued with her work. A generator box was lifted from the storage compartment, a thick cable being dropped behind it as it was brought over and set in an awaiting cradle.

The dense coil fed into the machine and then, via another set, accessed the plugs when the seneschal slotted the sockets into the fixtures at their base.

Kneeling before the generator she started to turn the various dials, establishing certain settings as she addressed her prisoner. ‘Have you ever experienced electrics?’ she asked, making the woman stiffen in horror at the word, believing her loins about to be abused by the most diabolic assault. ‘Most people think of torture when they think of electrics. But that is only the most crude and barbaric of uses. Through certain signals and frequencies we can stimulate your nerves, flex and control your muscles. Like this…’ she stated, and flicked a switch.

The machine gave a sibilant hum and started to apply voltage nips to the woman’s tracts, and instead of a howling wail of agony she snorted and gasped, her head lolling back, her eyes glazing over as her belly spasmed with the pleasure.

More intense than any vibrator, any tongue or any penis you can imagine once we find the settings that are just right for you,’ the seneschal smiled, flicking a setting over to something new, and extending her grin as Corin danced even more fervently.

The seneschal knew her subject well, and was quickly developing the most intense modes for the woman, keeping them slow so that she was kept locked in ecstasy but unable to build towards a climactic finish.

Kira licked her lips, the taste of the woman still strong across her palate. It was a glorious torment, one that Kira could well foresee shattering the woman within surprisingly little time.

‘But this is nothing compared to what you could acquire once you have been properly trained, little Corin,’ she stated, continuing her work, developing the modes of control based on her expert knowledge of a slave’s responses. ‘This palace will show you things never before experienced by mortal flesh, release from all burdens save the weight of your own desire. But you will learn that first hand soon enough. You see, I am just here to prepare you a little, to see to your comfort before your training begins in earnest.’

Kira was currently just being aroused by her slavery and punishment, watching others and unable to feel such things because of her chastity belt. But she to had been teased by its vibrations and deserted at the brink of release, the frustrations making her insane with hunger.

This manufactured havoc on Corin seemed much worse, 28 and she could foresee the woman being swiftly rendered compliant by such insidious methods.

‘Her majesty is currently handling affairs of state, but once she is finished she’ll be coming to start your training, slave,’ she whispered softly, employing a threatening gravity. ‘She is far more cruel and dedicated than anything you have faced before. She’ll break you, slave, and she’ll do it with such delicious torture. You’ll want to die, but there’s no hope of that with her. Your only option is to surrender quickly, dedicate yourself to being obedient to her, and not only that, but enjoying it as well. Because if you don’t… oh, you’ll regret it, slave.’

Kira knew why she was saying such things, it was to have the lupine scared, and have her dedicated to giving in as quickly as possible. The seneschal was playing her old game of spoiling the slave the queen had taken an interest in. By having Corin enter complete submissive obedience quickly because of some fear of lethal torture, then the queen’s interest would fade and leave Cassandra to have the imperious overlord of this realm all to herself again.

The woman would not question the bluff, and would fear the consequences too much not to do as the seneschal said. It was a clever ploy, and in the long run it would be better for Corin, too.

But first, she had enough to contend with. To be offered such exquisite bliss and deprived of the final reward was more diabolic than Kira’s own frustrating training, and Kira both envied and pitied the poor slave.

‘Now, I shall be leaving you here, so think well on your fate, slave. Pain or pleasure, the choice is yours,’

she stated, and taking Kira by the lead, she pulled her from the sight and out of the room.

The last thing Kira saw was the woman shuddering in 29 her bonds, squirming as she was beset by the thrusting devotions of the plugs as they controlled her, manipulating her flesh to keep her filled with a storm of rhapsody.

The curtain of steel that was the door closed and locked, leaving Corin to her lonely ordeal.

Taken back down the passages, Kira was led like a faithful hound to the personal quarters of the seneschal.

The woman’s mood was grim, her temper dark. The sight of Corin, straining in bondage, proud and defiant yet filled with sorrow, was something she knew would tantalise the queen, and the fact that another slave had stolen the regal vampiress from her again was making the seneschal livid.

Kira wished she could soothe her, to try and take her mind off such things, for it disturbed her to see her beloved owner wracked by such turmoil. But what could she do? She was a pet, and would be tormented for speaking, abused for acting without permission. She could only watch and hope.

Entering the lounge the woman closed the door and sighed with exasperation before walking to the kitchen.

Throwing open the door to the refrigerator she looked over the selected bags of vitality on offer.

Reaching down she started to fish through the depths, muttering incompressible words under her breath, her rage intense and consuming. As she leant over the short skirt stretched across her rear, lifting its hem, granting Kira the subtlest wink of her shaven sex. The stockings reached almost to it, the rubber tight around her thighs.

Against all reason, burning from her own frustrations of denial and seeing her owner so upset, she shifted forward and nuzzled between the thighs, flipping her tongue forward and straight onto the woman’s clitoris.

Next