Moonspawn (11 page)

In each corner was a chained male, the slave bound head to foot in tight latex, with their ankle cuffs and collar locked to the wall. Only their forearms and heads were free of the imprisoning shell, and while free of the restriction they had other torments afflicting them.

Shaven bald, a large black candle was set upon their 92

crown, the long burning shaft having spilled wax down its side and onto the features beneath. The faces of the slaves were almost hidden beneath a cascading frozen waterfall of jet wax, the rivulets streaming down their face and hanging from their chins. It looked as though they had indeed been wearing latex hoods, and now these were melting under some fierce heat.

On each upraised palm was another candle, a black rod trickling its molten issue down to coat their extremities, hiding all fingers and leaving long coal-black stalactites drooping from the underside. Also, a single insulated red cable emerged from their hands, snaking out to the wall where a large version emerged and reached into their loins, connecting to the subdued clues of their chastity belts. They were clearly straining to keep up with their duty, the weight and the perpetual pose something not easy for them to bear, and Kira started to see that they were not going unpunished for any moment of lagging.

Should the candle wilt or rise for any reason from its determined height, the sensors of the cables would betray their crime and they would shudder within their cocoons, their legs crossing and folding as their loins were punished until they reacquired the correct form.

The light from these harried unfortunates bathed the hall with nebulous shadows, the gloom consuming, the dark smooth walls armed with silver rings between each set of doors. The carpet was thick and soft, a deep crimson shade that turned to a matching linoleum panel where it reached the slaves, each of them standing on a metre square where their ever trickling flows of wax could visit no vandalism.

In the middle of the room was a large sturdy table, 93

clearly an antique, its stout legs engraved so that they flowed up and poured into the dense wood of the surface.

Matching chairs each lay on one side of the furniture, their high backs and deep cushions designed for luxury and matching the style of the table perfectly.

The seneschal walked over and slouched into one of them, the red cushions sagging to accept her sultry form.

‘Get on all fours, slave,’ she ordered, jabbing an angry finger directly before her.

Without delay, Kira folded down, and with rigid pride adopted the required position. She closed her eyes with satisfaction as she felt the smooth thigh boots settle onto her back, using her as a rest while they waited, the chain links attached to her collar reaching to the hand of her owner.

The minutes of silence continued to waft by, marked only with the almost inaudible hum of electrical charges being distributed to the faltering living candlesticks.

One of the doors opened, releasing the previously hidden sounds from the room beyond; the creak of latex and rattle of chains and a keening gurgle as someone was tormented.

A young woman emerged at a spry pace, her long blonde tresses flapping against her body. She was small, with detailed contours and a compassionate face with intense green eyes. Her entire body was encased within a moulded catsuit of bright red, the material clinging to her with devotion, moulding her small but well-formed breasts.

Elbow length gloves of black rubber were matched with knee high zipped boots, the two midnight garments emphasising each extremity. Her silver collar lay beneath the high rubber neck of her catsuit, its rings again slipping 94

through accommodating slots.

Behind her came a girl naked but for a pouch fastened around her waist by a thin belt. She was slender and reedy, an almost malnourished vision, her short brown hair cut to her scalp.

‘Greetings, seneschal,’ the blonde said with elation, walking over and accepting the woman’s hand before kissing it.

‘How is your night, Head Slave Strafe?’ quizzed Cassandra, the red-clad woman pulling out a chair and joining her.

‘May I?’ she asked, indicating Kira.

‘Go ahead,’ replied Cassandra, and the woman placed her booted feet onto Kira as well.

‘I’ve just finished changing some of the slaves around, and have been trying some new ideas,’ she said, clicking her fingers and having the wiry girl reach into the pouch and producing a cigar and a match that she obediently handed over. ‘Yourself?’ Running the wooden stem along the wood, the head erupted with flame and the woman placed the fat brown length to her lips before sucking in rapid mouthfuls, releasing them quickly to ensure the tip remained alight.

‘Not bad. That new slave the queen has had her eye on was brought in.’

The woman released a final plume of grey smoke that billowed forth and dissipated before she removed the cigar from her lips. Shaking the match she extinguished it and extended her arm with a regal wave. The girl emerged beneath it and opened her maw, the match being dropped into the open cavern, extinguishing its heat with a hiss. The girl closed her mouth and swallowed the small stem, the stick clearly causing discomfort as it trailed 95

down her throat. The woman smiled at the sight and clasped the cigar in crooked digits, the removal allowing her to speak more clearly.

‘And this is her? Not bad. What are you going to do with her, seneschal?’ she wondered.

‘As current head of the Pain slaves, I want you to take her for a while, teach her the usual neophyte rota. But she is not to find any relief, I want her kept frustrated while you use your inventions on her.’

‘As you wish, seneschal,’ she stated, placing the burning stem into her lips with a grin, taking a deep drag and then blowing a geyser of curling silver tendrils into the air.

Kira closed her eyes with dismay at the revelation that she was again to be teased with torment and not granted any hope of release from her pent-up desires. And being assigned to the lot of a Pain slave did not sound too reassuring either, but she was property, it was not her place to question, just accept, and that in itself made her feel better. She no longer had any choice – she did as commanded.

‘By the way, expect an influx of Asian ghouls into your care,’ added Cassandra. ‘The Tsuki-Yomi Clan arrive later today.’

‘Already? How many representatives are coming here?’

‘We have various Wyrm covens, heads of the major houses, some demon hosts are coming in, it’s going to be insane to try and keep them all content.’

‘What’s the queen up to?’ asked the woman, reaching out with the cigar and holding it ready for a moment.

She then absently tapped the end of the length and shed the ash, the girl having presented her open maw to catch the hot drizzle. It landed on her tongue and she winced, 96

fighting to remain dedicated to her task either through lust or through fright. Again she made a revolted swallow once her startled organ had cooled the ash a little.

‘I have no idea. Maybe she is trying to appease them, allay any suspicions that she’ll come after them after the city is hers. Maybe she is forming alliances and pacts, getting ready for what’s coming.’

‘The apocalypse? She really believes it’s coming?’ she said, the revelation causing her to pause before taking another drag and letting the smoke roll within her mouth and impart its flavour before she expelled it.

‘The signs are all pointing to it. Whether or not it’ll occur, everyone seems to be getting ready for something big,’ pondered Cassandra, and then removed her feet from Kira’s back before continuing with her words.

‘Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back to collect her in a few days or so.’

‘Anything I should know about her?’ questioned the trainer, looking from the seneschal to the slave.

‘I think she’s brood.’

‘Really? You’re sure?’

‘Maybe. It’ll be a while before we can see whether she turns in full.’

‘I’ve never seen brood before. Will she need special consideration?’

‘Not for a while, but she will if she becomes full brood.

But for now I want it kept secret, I don’t want anyone to know what I suspect, is that understood?’

‘Yes, seneschal.’

The head slave rose as well and went down on her knees to kiss the gloved hand of her superior. After accepting the homage, Cassandra stroked the soft mane of her servile, handed her the lead and then turned to 97

depart, leaving Kira to the mercy of this new owner.

‘Come with me, slave, and we’ll get you all nice and trussed up before we start your education,’ she announced, pulling on the leash, the cigar lodged between her lips.

Kira started to rise, only to have the woman shove her back to the carpet. ‘Did I say to rise? You will crawl, slave,’ she snapped harshly, and then yanked the leash to bring Kira forward. ‘You’ve just earned yourself extra punishment for that, slave,’ she stated, walking towards a door, leaving a thin trail of smoke, her rear tensing and stretching the firm red rubber sheath, mesmerising Kira’s starved vision. The girl scampered close behind, following to serve as Strafe’s personal ashtray.

Presented to a door, the woman removed a small tab from the frame of the LCD and passed it over Kira’s collar. Looking back and replacing the object, Kira’s symbol appeared on the panel and the door started to shuffle aside. It was thick and solid, amply fortified to contain creatures of abnormal strength and to stifle their yowls.

Drawn within, the chamber was small. Every surface was a mirror – the walls, floor and ceiling reflecting them in dozens of ever diminishing images. A fat candle lay in each corner, the flickering light rippling, making the refracted shadows and glow shift and move as though alive.

A pile of latex garments was set to one side, and from the centre of the ceiling a heavy chain hung to waist height.

The door was already starting to grind closed when the woman hooked a finger into Kira’s collar and brought her beneath the chain. She began her work with 98

eagerness, her hands deft, her love of smothering slaves beneath rolls of latex brazenly displayed. As she worked Kira began to see her teeth elongating as they clamped to the cigar, her lust rising with her work.

The girl shifted into the corner, remaining in a huddled crouch, watching for sign that she was to be summoned.

In the mirrors of the chamber Kira watched herself being dressed. Thigh length boots were threaded onto her legs, compressing them, setting her atop absurd ballet boots. Next came a stern jacket, the sleeves ending in furled mittens. The garment was forced onto her, slotting her arms in the tight material, her hands entering the mittens, making her gather her fingers into fists and depriving her of all manual dexterity. The woman pulled her wrist rings through the slots, and continued.

The back zip was pulled up, squeezing her within, her breasts slipping through two open rings. As the garment was tightened the hoops forced her breasts through, making them swell with sensation.

A buckled strap was set between her legs to hold it down, and the final part was the forcing of a ball-gag over her lips, the large sphere spreading her jaws wide and keeping them there as the strap was buckled to the back of her head. With the basic uniform in position, the woman lifted Kira to her feet where she wobbled on the painful footwear, finding it hard to keep upright against their demands.

The cigar was removed and she looked over her handiwork with a grin, blowing free a mouthful of smoke and presenting the cigar. The girl scuttled forth and positioned herself beneath, catching another ashen downpour before returning to her position in the corner.

Slotting the dwindled stub back to her lips, the woman 99

clapped her hands together and rubbed them, the latex squeaking before she recommenced her work.

Folded at her middle, Kira’s arms were dragged around her thighs, and two fastenings by her armpits snagged her wrist rings, the locking clasps stopping her from straightening up, confining her to this extreme stoop, her arms wrapped around and hugging her thighs.

Wobbling on her toes and heels, her rear in the air as her body draped down her thighs, breasts pressed against them, further straps were applied. The wide elasticised bands of dense rubber rolled over the top of her thighs and the small of her back, helping to keep her in the stringent pose.

Another of the secret pits was opened just behind her, allowing the woman to remove a length of black cable.

The socket at the end snapped to her chastity belt, locking into place and feeding new energy into the toy.

Swallowing as best she could, she felt the chain being attached to the base of the jacket, taking hold, stopping her from descending.

Clicking her fingers, the woman pointed to the floor before Kira, causing the girl to trot over and get down on all fours, accepting the trainer’s buttocks onto her spine. The girl shuddered with pleasure at the feel of the latex smoothed cheeks resting on her, and ate another tap of ash while the trainer addressed Kira.

‘Now, we have some lectures for you, slave,’ she declared, rising and walking to the wall. ‘These will come in three parts. The first will be instruction as to what you are. The next will be a brief history of her majesty, and the last will be the most important – the rules and law of the queen’s domain.’

Touching a section of glass wall, the pane pivoted and 100

revealed three long canes of various thickness. Her gloved hand closed about one, the material rippling over her knuckles as she removed it from its hooks and closed the hidden compartment.

‘You are a vampire,’ she purred. ‘You were drained of life until it was almost extinguished, and then, by feeding you a large amount of her blood, the Malefic Kiss of her majesty turned you to us.’

Wandering behind Kira, waggling the bamboo strut, she made it thrum against the air as its fibres were limbered up in readiness for their exercise.

Kira watched the woman with wide eyes, craning her neck back to observe the many reflections that offered the woman and her own bound form from every angle.

Taking another draught of the cigar, she washed the smoke about and tilted her head back, blowing some smoke rings. She watched them rise and fade, smiling at her success while she continued to speak.