Her men also loved to be made to cum with her hands. She kept them well-oiled and soft with hand cream and other cosmetics, though her natural magic was also enough. Some of the virgins would instantly ejaculate into the air at a gentle touch from her fingers, even after just one or two strokes of her hands on their pulsing cockheads. Others took longer, several pumps going up and down, up and down, teasing their shafts, moving around the glans and feeling them thrust up against her hand, or twitch when her fingers felt around every inch of their pulsating shafts, teasing the sensitive bits and stroking along the middle to the bottom, then feeling their balls while her wrist and forearm brushed against the rock-hard shaft. She just loved it when they were a mess on her bed, thrusting upwards into her hand and crying out. Those cries begging to orgasm or telling her how good her hands felt, encouraging her to tease them more, were music and eraudica to her ears. She would oblige by teasing them even more, turning her hand such that her fingers were facing down and rubbing against his shaft while the glans brushed against her palm. Her hand was bent downwards at the wrist and the entire arm was moving up and down in a milking motion, drawing out thick seed from those full balls by the litre. She generally loved licking it off her hands in front of her client's stunned expression. The taste, smell, and texture of all that male essence was what kept her going.
Irina was her name, and capturing 'unwilling' mates in her sex dungeon was her game. There was nothing she loved more than the game of breaking wills. When the men under her resisted, she simply came harder and more often while trying to get them to spurt themselves and remain humiliated in a puddle of their own spunk. Those she broke would come back for cumming more. Those she didn't were a challenge which always kept her wet, ready and creative in the ways she dominated or wrestled them. Some of her clients were as close to dominant as you could get, resisting her or rolling on top of her to hold her down and kiss her as hard as they could. She loved it, though her instincts told her to take charge and get out from under them, which she usually did. She would leap on top of her client, her body landing on theirs like a tigress capturing its prey, and then whisper in their ear about how being resisted made her horny as fuck, but that she would always stay in charge no matter what. She nibbled her client's ear, licking the inside and sending shivers up their spine, moaning quietly about how delicious their resistance was and how she would enjoy watching it break down bit by bit and have them on their hands and knees, begging her to own and collar them, perhaps even kissing the tips of her boots or her pretty toes. That was the moment she always savoured, and she had masturbated herself to orgasm more often than not right in front of them , much to their shock and another huge hardon as a response. The sight of those delicious, juicy cocks so hard and pulsing for her again was irresistible. She would inevitably sit on them and grab those dicks, stroking them in her soft palm to keep them primed for round two, and then guide them inside her nice and slow as if she was caressing a wounded animal or little child, and she would end up having several rounds of repeat sex with the client. She generally took one man a day for this so that another appointment didn't interrupt them, and he was left like a dried husk in the morning. She would've loved to have one man to keep around as per her monstrous instincts, but the restrictions of professionalism and earning her keep prevented that. Also, it seemed most clients were here to get their rocks off and not to find someone who would permanently own them. That was fine as they probably came there so they wouldn't be judged or mocked for their fetishes. Kink-shaming was a huge problem in the mamono and human world, where mamono and humans were laughed at for enjoying certain stuff. ('Oh, you love handholding? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU PERVERT!! Get real and learn how to stick your pole into a hole before you grow old! Handholding went out of fashion years ago!!') She wished they wouldn't do that, even the dark elves were mocked for their whips and chains, or their dominant, sexy personalities. Maybe those jackasses were envious, maybe not. It was hard to say (pun intended) what the haters felt, and though she knew they were meant to be ignored, having a heart and feelings left you susceptible to what anyone said. Even automatons in her world had feelings for their masters, so they weren't' immune.
Irina sighed and passed a hand over her face. The only good thing about having human, or mamono emotions, was that it gave them both a new high when the feelings were positive. She couldn't control much about negative people or most others, but she did try to live amongst happy, optimistic and nonjudgemental people ever since she had been mocked, laughed at and almost beaten out of the previous town where she set up her practice. Her dungeon had been ransacked and the items sold for scrap metal. Setting up a new dungeon, underground this time, took most of her savings and patience, but it was now done and very difficult to access if you didn't know where it was. She would personally talk to the clients who wished to come and then only let them know where it was. The security systems set up at the entrance were loaded and would not allow anyone in if they had intentions of destroying the place. Also, if a 'client' had changed his (or her) mind and decided she was a cruel bitch who would chew them up (which she didn't), the mind-reader would remove any intentions of theirs to harm the place or herself. If they got past the entrance to the inner dungeon and then drew a weapon or even tried to punch the walls, they were injected with a drug which knocked them out for five minutes, enough for Irina to bring them inside her dungeon and 'punish' them with blue balls for hours and then let them ejaculate when they were mindbroken thoroughly. If someone changed their mind in her dungeon and tried to attack her, the same thing would happen with little needles fired from the walls or embedded in the bed and floor. This wasn't usually a problem when she was playing with them when they were tied up or restrained, or had them on a leash. Of course, she didn't always have them that way since some did not like to be bound or dragged around with a collar, and she respected their preferences. She did not believe that anyone was out to get her, but was wary after her earlier experiences. Once bitten, twice shy.
Irina heard a knock at the dungeon door, and looked up. Her new client must be here. She hurried over to the table with her tools, and dropped the nail file there. She turned around, took in a deep breath and pushed out her breasts, taking on the royal demeanour she was famous for. It was what kept them coming back and cumming in her, so she couldn't afford to put on a different act. She started walking to the dungeon door, tossing her long white hair back with one hand. Her legs moved with the grace of a supermodel, and the power of a weightlifter. Her ass swayed back and forth with each step, and her slender arms swung at her sides, brushing against her jiggly, bouncing titflesh. Her breasts should've been huge enough to make her overbalance, but they didn't bother her at all or make her lean forward with their weight. Her stance was proud, regal and upright at all times, which was probably why she kept any cock which came into her dungeon or her upright as well.
She reached the door and touched the handle. She pulled it inwards, and the door creaked open. She looked outside, only to see no one, and then looked downwards. Still no one. That was odd. She was used to being taller than her clients, most were a couple of inches shorter than six feet, and the tallest had been 6'2", still three inches shorter than her. Not that she looked down on anyone for their height, unless it was to put a collar on them and order them to their knees to greet her by worshipping her boots.
A soft voice spoke up. 'Um, I'm further down, ma'am.'
Irina looked further down, and the vision before her was a rare one which actually took her by surprise. The guy standing down below her was under five feet, probably 4'10" or so, but that wasn't what surprised her. He looked really young, like a child, and it wasn't just because he was so much shorter than her. He looked really young and cute, no sign of a beard on him, and the innocent look in his eyes sent a flutter down her spine and through her pussy. She had handled virgins in the past who wanted their cherries popped, but this one almost seemed like a host boy club employee. He looked like the kind of little boy who would pound a mature woman's motherly instinct buttons until they were overloaded. The look on his face wasn't exactly jailbait or anything, but it did make you want to corrupt him. She felt her already moist pussy clench as she thought of training this little one's face between her legs, sucking on her drenched flower for hours and keeping her on edge. His ability to eat pussy would be very limited and unskilled since he didn't look like he'd done it, but she found that she didn't care at all. She wanted to be the one to take him, teach him all the finer points of a monster girl's body and please her in ways which no one else could. Maybe he could be the one who would appeal to her permanently. She wasn't a mother, but she felt her inner voice telling her to take this kid in and bang - well, take care of him, in fact. You didn't bang your kids or others'. Right?
She shook herself out of her reverie and realised the young boy was staring at her. She hoped her eyes hadn't become heart-shaped pupils now, that would be a dead giveaway for a mamono.
'Do you have identification, darling?' she asked, and then blushed. She couldn't understand why she called him that. She generally greeted her clients imperiously or coolly to complete the picture of a servile bitch being made to kneel at his mistress's glorious feet and legs, but she found it rather hard to do with this cutie.
The kid's eyes widened, and then he blushed, his head lowering. He pulled out a card from his pocket, and held it out to her. She took it and examined it carefully, sneaking glances at his face.
