03

Chapter Two:

As he bit into her throat, she melted from her core outward. Every thought of resistance fled her mind as the smell of her own blood and the sensations assaulted her. She suddenly found, in herself, needs and cravings of attentions, things she'd never thought she would allow herself to feel. What kind of powers must this daemon possess to weaken her so easily?

Pulling back from her, her blood staining his lips, he walked to the wall of equipment and took down a medium weight flogger. Stepping back to stand behind her, yet not allowing her to get a good look at him, he whispered quietly," Tell me, little one, do you like pain? Will you cry for me, moan for me, whimper and beg? How strong is your resolve? I know you are mine. Before the night is over, you will be unable to deny the truth of my words."

He pulled back and swung the flogger with a heavy hand, cascading the falls into her shoulder, making her rock with the hit, a moan of pleasure and delight escaping her. Without pause, he rained hits down on her shoulders, back, ass and thighs. Constantly rotating where he hit, she was unable to adjust to the rhythm and feel of the flogger. He warmed her entire backside until it glowed in an evenly heated red. With each strike, her body rocked forward and she cried out and moaned softly. With every sound that escaped her, he was driven further into a frenzy of lust and need, unlike any he had ever known before.

Happy with the even markings on her body, he stopped his swings and admired the beginning of his night's work. Reaching to the side, he grabbed a pair of soft fur gloves and traded them for his leather ones. He ran his hands across the bright red welts, feeling the heat left in the wake of his heavy swings. His touch made her shiver and sigh in delight at the sudden change of tactics. To go from heavy, solid hits to something as light as air, was beyond anything she'd expected. As the fur slid along the back of her body she began to relax, slow her breathing and simply enjoy the moment.

He watched her as she calmed and relaxed at his touch, feeling her skin beginning to cool. He looked to his wall of toys, trying to decide which implement of fun he wanted next. He didn't want to let her get too complacent. He wanted to break her, to take her and make her his. He must work her carefully or lose her forever. This was a desperate fight, indeed. He walked away from her again, taking off the fur gloves as he came to the wall, and pulled down one of his favorite pieces. Wanting to see the look in her eyes when she saw this particular item, he walked around to face her.

Chapter Three

Even with eyes cast down and body stretched out, exposed before him, he could see the look of defiance in her face and the tension of her muscles. Smiling, he looked at her, holding the item before him at eye level, so that she would have to meet his gaze, to begin to comprehend what was to come. "Look at me, little one. I know you want to. I know you can't help yourself. Look upon your new master. I know that, right now, there's nothing else in this world you crave more than to look me in the eyes. Look me in the face and show me your defiance."

He stood just far enough away to give her a full look at him and the item in his hand. Slowly, she looked up from the floor, taking in his knee high boots, his tightly clad legs, then up to his swelling manhood, entrapped within the cloth surrounding his body. Her gaze continued up to his stomach and chest, clad in the dark blue silk with silver buttons and, finally, up to meet his eyes. As their eyes met for the first time, it felt like a shock of pure electricity arcing between them, as the stormy winter of his eyes flashed in response to the blue- green oceanic orbs before him. For a breathless moment, the only thing either could comprehend was the power of the other's eyes.

After what seemed an eternity, but was only the passing of mere heartbeats, she looked to his hand and gasped in shock and excitement when she realized what was in store for her. In spite of himself, he smiled evilly as she gasped. Watching her for a moment longer, he strode around her, stood behind her and asked, quietly, "Did you like what you saw, little one? Did it, please you? Do you believe me yet? Are you willing to give yourself to me?"

Just the sound of his deep, velvet voice made her body tighten. As he asked each question she trembled at the feel of the words sinking into her essence. It almost boiled her blood with a need so powerful that the force of it would have doubled her over, had she not been firmly bound in place. Instead, she felt a desperate moan escape her lips, followed by a muffled scream of frustration at her own weaknesses.

In his grasp he held a very unique piece of work, a long black leather flogger, strung with lengths of barbed-wire leather strands. It would feel like nothing she had ever experienced. It was a heavier piece of work and would be extremely thuddy. At the same time the, barbed strands would sting, burn, and, with enough force, even cut. It would be a total shock to the senses and, he was certain, would bring forth a delicious chorus of uncontrolled forced noises.

Standing just far enough away from her body to land the hits the way he wanted, he started his first swing with just enough force to let her know he had begun again. The first hit barely grazed across her shoulders and back, but even that light touch caused her back to burn a little. The next few hits began to pick up in speed and power, until he was hitting her with as much force as he could without actually damaging her flesh, beyond the inevitable welts and minor scratches. With each hit, her moans became whimpers, then cries, shouts and screams, at last becoming expletives that would make even the most salted sailor run blushing. He continued anyway, trying not to laugh in pleasure at the incredible depth of her curses. Keeping a continual, fluid pace and rhythm, he worked her over until the edges of bruising and actual cuts begin to show. As he landed his final blow, with twice the force of those before, a growling stream of profanity poured forth from the girl.

Even though she was swearing at him and damning everyone in his ancestry, he knew she had enjoyed herself. The scent of her body, the quivering of her limbs as she fought to control herself, the rapid rise and fall of her chest and shoulders as she tried to slow and calm her breathing, only succeeded in furthering acknowledging that pleasure.

Gently caressing the back of her body with the lightest of touches, making her quiver and squirm, he reveled in the responses even the simplest touch elicited from her. He applied just the slightest edge of pressure as he glided along her body, memorizing of each welt and cut and the sweet sounds of her cries and whimpers. With a streak of pure sadism he bent down and licked a hot, wet trail up her spine, then raked his nails, hard and fast, down her back, ass and thighs. Her body bent forward, trying desperately to escape his touch. She screamed out as his nails shredded through her sensitive flesh.

Gods above and below! She could hardly control herself. It's all she could do not to just break down in tears as he worked her over. She couldn't control her responses. She hated herself for being so weak in front him. With every hit that landed upon her body she'd found herself more and more willing to simply submit to him, to give herself over to him. Still she fought. But, even though she might never admit it out loud, she had greatly enjoyed herself, and couldn't wait for the night to continue.