Read Vampire Enslavement (Lords of Bondage) Online
Authors: Corinne [vampire] Balfour
Tags: #vampire
“Don’t think to control me, Gwyneth. People have died for less.” He was at his wit’s end. He wondered if the bond would be easier to terminate if Gwyneth was dead. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as soon as it began to circulate within his head. Maybe he was losing it. He wasn’t a murderer of females, even if they were irritating as hell.
Gwyneth smiled and bared her fangs. “Don’t test me. I learned much about manipulating royalty when I was mated to the Northern king. I will have your precious royals eating out of my hand. And if I find you have an affection for an inappropriate female, I will have her exterminated.”
He placed his hands around Gwyneth’s throat, his rage blinding him in its intensity. She threatened Kiera and would kill her if she discovered he cared for that female. Gwyneth’s eyes were black as her rotten soul. The woman struggled and a lightening flash broke the darkness of the room. She put her hands to his head and electrical shocks coursed down his body, causing him to lose his hold on her. He backed up a few steps, not wanting to engage with the woman when she was using her hybrid abilities. He was relieved he hadn’t harmed her now that his mind was thinking more clearly. “Calm down, Gwyneth. Let’s not go there.”
“You started it,” she hissed.
“I know. I could fight back but that would probably kill you.” He had been tempted to hurl a heavy object at her using his mind, but he knew the wisdom of controlling his abilities.
“Fight me if you think you can. I don’t think you’ll take me. You’re weak. And crazy as bat shit.”
“Hurling insults at me isn’t going to endear yourself to me.”
“What’s the name of your newest whore? You must have someone. Tell me, who do I need to kill?”
“Acting the jealous bitch doesn’t become you. Your face turns ugly with all that scowling.”
“You cannot focus on our relationship when you are distracted by another.” Gwyneth clutched his head with her hands, sending more electrical shocks down his body.
“Get away from me and stop the shock treatment. Now, Gwyneth.” When the woman continued to apply shocks to his body, he knew he had to use a show of physical force before she fried him. He pushed her away from him using a gentle shove but it was supplemented by his mental hybrid abilities—his telekinetic powers. The woman flew across the room, her limbs flailing in the air while her screams pierced his ears. He had thrown her further than intended, and to his horror, she fell straight into a burning fireplace. Her hair and clothing caught fire instantly.
Gwyneth stumbled out of the fireplace but she was consumed by flames. Modez grabbed a rug and wrapped it around her. He pushed her to the ground and rolled her rug-clad body over the stone floor until the fire was extinguished. When it was over, what was left of Gwyneth’s beautiful skin was blackened and charred. He could see the bones sticking out of her burned flesh and one of her eyeballs was missing from its socket. Blood hybrids had good healing abilities, but these injuries were too severe for the body to repair by itself. He could sense through the mating bond that Gwyneth still lived, but he wondered if it would be better for her if she didn’t make it. She would carry the burn scars for the rest of her life. The vain female wouldn’t wish to live in this condition. He felt the guilt swell up within him as he called for the healers. He had done this to her. He hadn’t meant to harm her, but he had thrown her into the fire.
Chapter 29
Modez visited Kiera two nights later in the room she shared with Cabrian and Cassia. He took her to a divan in a darkened corner of the room and started to unlace her tunic. Kiera allowed him to bare her breasts and soon he had pushed her flat on the divan. He spread her knees apart with his thighs and entered her. No words had been spoken between them. She had sensed his urgency and understood his need. She wished she was the one who had stirred it, but she knew it was the mating bond. The bond he shared with another woman. The one he meant to break. She wrapped her thighs around him while he took his pleasure. He came. Just when she thought it was over, he started to move inside her at an even more rapid pace before coming again. It went on for hours, and during that time, she managed to find release. She knew she shouldn’t allow him to use her like a whore, but she knew if she did not, he would cement his bond with Gwyneth. She didn’t want that horrible female to have him. She was only delaying the inevitable, though. At some point she would lose him to his true mate.
Modez collapsed on top of her and sighed. “It’s not working. There’s so much pleasure when I release inside you but I stay hard. My balls ache even though they’re empty and it feels like I haven’t fucked in years.” His muscles tensed and he grimaced. “I’m not satisfied. I could fuck you all night and into the next day and I’d still need more. It’s frustrating. Agonizing.” He sighed and butted his head against the cushion of the divan. “I’ve been through this before but it wasn’t the same with Elsa. With you, I need more. It may be best if I forgo sex altogether.”
His admission knifed into her gut, causing pain that faded into blessed numbness. She didn’t want to feel. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed.”
“It’s not you. You’re perfect.” He kissed her softly on the forehead. “I suspect I’ll go feral before this is over. I will end up collared and chained for everyone’s protection. If this happens I cannot protect you from Diermont. He may try to take you by force. He is often rough with the females he uses and he will hurt you if he learns you are a mongrel. You may have to leave the villa. Run to the border. When it is safe, seek shelter on Lord Ross’ land. He will send for me when I’m well.”
“Why should I go there?”
“I want to keep you as my mistress, but not like Elsa. She belongs to the fine, as you do. I don’t want to share you with the others. If I keep you away from them for three months, I’ll be granted personal ownership of you. I’ll get you a house far from the palace. I will visit whenever I desire to take you to bed.”
Modez left her and Kiera felt torn. He wanted her for his mistress, not his mate. That didn’t bother her much because mating him was an impossibility. The odds of him being compatible with more than one female were pretty terrible. She had exhausted her options for potential mates so becoming some lord’s mistress was the expected action for her to take. But Modez was technically mated and such males didn’t take mistresses. Her serfdom made being a mistress impossible. A mistress was free to choose her protector. She belonged to the Halloran fine. But if he claimed her as his own and kept her as his personal servant for the allotted time period, she would belong solely to Modez. She would be a glorified bed servant, more a slave than a mistress. But the arrangement could suit her just fine if he treated her well. But how long would he treat her favorably? At some point he would tire of her like he did every other female of his experience. Once the novelty of sex with a mongrel wore thin, he would move on to someone new.
Kiera glanced at her precious maps again. She had nearly memorized the route to Eros. She had stuck around mostly to glean more information from the human slave. The woman was stubborn about revealing what she knew because she didn’t trust her. She had gotten bits and pieces from her, enough to gain a general idea where the Agrippa villa was located. She wished she could obtain proper clothing and a blonde wig, but those items were locked up in a storage area she had been unable to breach.
She couldn’t continue to delay her leaving. Diermont intended to train her for work in the dungeon and she had no desire to perform such unsavory tasks. Soon Modez would be a distant memory. She clutched her stomach as waves of nausea hit her again. She was extremely worried about her physical condition. If what she suspected was true, she had to disappear and she needed to do it soon. Before it was too late.
* * *
Several days had passed and Kiera saw nothing of Modez. At first she had felt relief knowing she wouldn’t have to play the whore with him, but after a few more days, she felt anxious regarding the reason for his absence. Had he bedded Gwyneth? Were they cementing their mating bond with endless rounds of hot sex? She had missed his presence at dinner. She had eaten down below even though she hated having to kneel on the floor. But his seat remained vacant.
For the first time in weeks, the seat next to his was not empty, however. Seamus McLeod sat there, looking healthy and jovial. Apparently Seamus, Visant, and Bloodfanger had woken in the woods outside the villa with no memory of their time in captivity. Diermont had been suspicious, and even Kiera had to admit their sudden return had been rather unexpected and quite strange. Was this some devious plan of the Romans or was it some miracle? Diermont was keeping a close eye on the trio just in case they weren’t as they appeared. Some wondered if they were the traitors working with the Romans.
When the knocks sounded on the door, Kiera debated whether to pretend she wasn’t there. She answered it just in case it was important. It was Druscilla.
“We have both been summoned to the dungeon. It is time.” Druscilla took her hands in hers and squeezed. “It won’t be so bad.”
“I cannot.” Kiera swallowed hard. She dreaded going down there again.
“Diermont wants to celebrate the return of Seamus and Visant by indulging himself in the dungeon. If you don’t come willingly, the prince will send his men to fetch you. Do not anger him. He means for you to watch. He won’t ask you to perform tonight.”
Kiera knew the time was fast approaching when she would be forced to perform. She would be gone well before then. Tomorrow. She would leave tomorrow.
She transported to the dungeon and stood beside the prince. Seamus and Visant sat on a sofa with an easy view of the room. Kiera assumed they had been invited to observe, but she wondered how the guests of honor felt about it. Bloodfanger wasn’t present and she assumed he had not been invited.
Diermont motioned for Seamus to come forward. He instructed him to strip and blindfold Druscilla. The warrior complied, although his movements were awkward at best. Visant bound her wrists and ankles to posts in the floor. Diermont told the two warriors to return to the sofa. He pushed Druscilla on her hands and knees and raised her ass into the air.
Diermont leaned over and pressed a kiss to Druscilla’s narrow bottom. “Beat her,” Diermont said to Torin. “She’s been a naughty wench. Snotti told me that she’s too lazy to perform her duties and pretty soon she’ll dismiss her from service. She displeased my mate so she must be punished.”
Torin slapped her hard on the ass, making Druscilla cry out in pain.
“Beat her with this,” Diermont said while handing Torin a broom handle. “Snotti asked her to sweep the floors and she did a lousy job of it.”
Torin frowned in confusion. “Ladies shouldn’t be sweeping floors. We should get a few Romans to do it.”
“I’m not housing any human slaves. Our males cannot resist fucking them.” Diermont pointed to Druscilla. “This woman is one step above a slave. She’s a low-born wench.”
“My great-great-great-grandfather was a lord,” Druscilla said with a peeved tone. “I am a lady.”
Diermont grabbed the broom from Torin and struck Druscilla on the ass with the end of the pole. When she screamed, he struck her again, despite Torin’s protests. The
prince alternatively used the broom and his hand, spanking her with every other movement. Kiera noticed that the prince had rotated his rings so they impaled Dru’s soft flesh. His rings were made of metal and were spiked. In moments, Druscilla’s badly abused bottom was oozing blood from cuts and abrasions. Torin looked uncomfortable with the scene. He had pleaded with the prince to stop, but Diermont had refused to listen. Kiera wanted to run, afraid what would happen once Diermont turned that rage on her. But she was afraid he would kill her friend in anger. She debated whether to intervene physically, but she knew Diermont would overpower her too easily.
Finally Diermont stopped brutalizing Druscilla. With lust burning in his eyes, he turned to Torin. “Go ahead. Fuck her now. Take her up the ass this time.”
Torin was visibly appalled. “Your Royal Highness, surely you don’t mean for me to use her anus. I’ve never gone there before and I’d rather not.”
“If your cock cannot do it, maybe this broom handle will do the job,” Diermont said while waving the implement in the air.
Torin grabbed the broom from Diermont and shattered it with his mind. The pieces of wood fell to the floor and littered the area with wood shavings. “You’ve gone too far with this. Dru’s a good girl. There’s no need to treat her this way. This ceases to be fun for either of us.”
Diermont bared his fangs and growled. “I am enjoying myself immensely. You’re being a pussy.”
Torin stepped closer to the prince, getting in his face. “You may be a prince, but you must adhere to the laws of decency like everyone else. What would your father say if he knew what you were doing?”
“It’s honest fun. The king would have no problem with that.” He shrugged his shoulders and his expression was one of bewilderment. “I don’t understand what is wrong with you males. None of you want to play in the dungeon any longer.”
“No, even Modez stopped going. It is because you’ve taken things too far and it’s not enjoyable for anyone but you.”
“Well, someone needs to fuck the wench.” Diermont frowned. “I didn’t bring her to the dungeon solely for the beating. I could have done that in the dining hall.” Diermont pulled down his trousers and lifted Druscilla’s ass to his engorged, ruddy, and heavily veined cock. “It is your lucky day, lazy whore. You’re getting the royal treatment this evening.” He stroked his cock with his spiny fingers until a bead of fluid leaked from its slit. His groan was loud and guttural. “Do you want to know what a prince’s cock feels like inside your gaping crevice?”
Druscilla whimpered and finally said, “Yes, please fuck me, Your Royal Highness.” She turned her head and gave the prince a weak smile. “I want to please you, my prince. I’ll be good, I promise.”
Oh, no she didn’t just say those things to the prince. Druscilla, the strong-willed girl who could tear Romans apart with nary a weapon was now a simpering, brainless, spineless creature unrecognizable to Kiera. She mourned the loss of the person she used to know while she resolved to never become that pitiful creature who offered herself to be abused. She restrained herself from telling Druscilla how she should have responded to the prince. She held her tongue because the hybrid leader terrified her. She didn’t want to draw his attention.