CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TANNOR
Nalla kept me waiting for hours. A bath was brought for me, and I lingered in the water, mildly hoping she would arrive and then angering at myself for thinking such things. I scrubbed my skin with harsh yanks going over and over how I needed to apologize, appease her, and hope she forgot the words I tossed in anger.
But it wasn’t anger at her, it was at me. I had no business studying her as she slept, smelling her hair, caressing her skin. There was nothing that would’ve compelled me to do that. The point was freedom, not staying trapped with her for the rest of my life.
As I dressed, I realized that my anger was the frustration that I desired her. Not just her body and her actions, but her mix of womanhood. How she was kind and tender one moment, fiery and passionate in another, while being innocent and idealistic at the same time. We weren’t to desire women as people, simply as the harsh mistresses who ruled our cocks. But she was more than that. She was so much that I daydreamed of making her happy and other such nonsense.
We’d heard rumors of men who’d loved their women. We’d heard of their deaths. How their wings were yanked from their body, stiff after so long curled into our spines, and how they severed their wings while their lover helplessly watched. Punished for daring to be anything other than master and slave. We never knew what happened to the women, but I could only imagine the worst.
The more hours passed, the more worried I became. Trapped as I am, there’s little I can do to help her should she need it. I took to pacing once more, then to studying the gowns in her closet, then back to pacing.
My nerves were frazzled, and I was ready to pound the door and escape, just to find her and ensure she was safe.
It was early afternoon when she arrived, and relief settled over me in a sharp breath. However, she looked unconcerned. She even sported a rosy tint on her cheeks and the smell of freesias followed her. She was dressed in blue; the sleeves draped down, showcasing her shoulders.
“What happened? What did she want?” I spoke without thinking. Because I was mad with worry. Because she exhibited nothing of the terrible things I thought were being done to her.
She raised a brow and pinned me with a look. It’s her mistress look, the one that speaks of her displeasure at my tone. I didn’t care; I didn’t give a fuck. I’ve been sitting here doing nothing but imagining terrible conjectures.
“What my sisters and I discuss is not your concern,” she snapped and swept into the room, past me, allowing her gown to tickle my skin.
I watched her, feeling frustrated, sensing she hid things when before she’d been so open. But I destroyed that, didn’t I? And now I wished she wanted me, though no woman has truly wanted me, not even my mother.
“You made it clear you didn’t care for my company. That it was only a task. A means of survival,” her voice revealed nothing. It’s controlled. “So tonight, we practice our lies. If you wish to live, you need to convince others you’re enchanted by me, even if you aren’t. You need to showcase devotion, even if you have none. And humility, something you’re terrible at.”
I listened without understanding her implications.
“Kneel.” And she turned, cracking a whip so close to my face that I jumped back.
Where had she even gotten a fucking whip? We stared at one another. Her face is set, emotionless, cold and distant.
“I said kneel.” Her voice turned deep ice. “Kneel or you die.”
The tone of her voice shot desire straight into my heart. I felt like breaking a chain I wasn’t wearing, but a chain I wish I was locked to.
“Make me,” I responded.
A thrill flushed her face and exploded by body. Yes. That’s exactly what I want. I want her to make me. To battle me, wrangle me. I want to pull against her bindings, fight against her whims. I want her to earn my kneeling stance. I want both the soothing lover and the violent witch.
With a flick of her wrist, a chain flew from her treasure chest of toys and wrapped itself around me, collapsing me to the ground, even as I fought it.
She was properly angry now. Her eyes were fiery balls of hate. I didn’t even know why I enjoyed it so much, why I’ve pushed her to these extremes. A part of it is how she spoke to me, how she explains things and how soft her fingers were when she bathed me and cleaned my wounds.
In a stride, she was on me, yanking me up, making me face her furious face. A beautiful face. Fuck. Fuck her. I don’t need to think of her of any other way other my new jailor and fuck her for making me doubt it.
I yanked against the binds, but she held them good. Perhaps she was using some of her magic, but a part of me knew she wouldn’t. She needed that for when she beat me; she wanted to do it with her full strength.
She dragged me to the corner of the room, making me stumble just to keep up with her strides. With a grunt, she connected the chain to a hook from above and I hung from my arms, at her mercy.
My cock stirred.
I kicked my legs when she looked up at me as I danced, attempting to hurt her. She was a foot shorter, but that didn’t deter her.
“If you continue kicking, I will bind your feet. We know how much you love that,” she said almost pleasantly.
“You’ll need to use your magic to hold me down and you’ll have nothing left for the beating,” I hissed with bared teeth.
“So you wish me to hit you at full strength?” Her eyes are wide with mock innocence.
The cock between my legs twitched, and I yelled in frustration. I landed a good kick on her thigh, and she turned sharply, palm open and glowing. I felt my legs filled with warmth and I can’t move them.
“I don’t need magic to make you hurt,” she said in a low, promising tone.
Her hands were on my shirt, she leaned into me, and we stared at each other, my breath sharp. Then she tore my tunic off with one sharp pull. She sighed, running her fingers over my chest with a small smile.
The cock twitches again, tenting my trousers. She noticed. I cursed loudly, and she smiled wider. Mortification is the only thing I can grasp within my feelings. I sensed my face heating. She leaned in and I could smell her sweet perfume and see the swell of her breasts.
I clutched my bound fingers together and defiantly met her eyes. Her hand softly caressed my chest. My breath came in sharp poofs, and I tried to think of the time in the pits. Those miserable years, not much better than now. Anything to prevent my cock from rising. But her fingers trailed down my waist, and she ran her thumb over the dip of my hipbone.
Gasping, I almost yelled at her to fucking grasp my cock, yank it like she did last night. The words were wedged in my throat. I couldn’t say it.
She looked down at my cock and just watching her study it hardened me more. Like I was on display for her and her alone. Her brown hair fell over her face. I had visions of my cock in her mouth. No. No visions–fuck! I groaned when she slid her hand down, her fingers ghosted over my member and involuntarily, I jerked forward.
Nalla laughed, throwing her head back. “Tannor…” She coyly looked up; her hands continued the teasing touches. “Do you enjoy being tied up and at my mercy?”
“Go to hell,” I spatted. Even as I say it, her words expanded my erection and I could barely speak.
She graced my cock with a feathery touch and I cried out, my hips jerking forward.
Fucking grab it, take it, yank it, please do something.
To my horror, she drew back her hand. I blinked at her in blind anger.
“Oh, we’re going to have fun tonight, Tannor,” she purred and with sure fingers, she pulled down my trousers.
It took me a moment to realize she was no longer enchanting my legs and my attempt to kick her only served for my pants to slip to my feet, tangling myself in them.
She was breathing deeply, but she did something I didn’t expect. It fully erects my cock. She clutched her breast and played with her nipple through the cloth, closing her eyes.
“I like you this way, Tannor. I like you waiting for me, half hard and ready,” she said in such a deep tone that once more my erection bobs.
I groaned and clutched my fists, desperate to calm myself.
She stepped around me to inspect me. I shifted, trying to look at her. I thought she would commence the beating, but it wasn’t her style. She was patient while I wasn’t. I wanted the beating over with so I could be left alone in a corner to nurse my orgasm as I shivered in humiliation at my reactions.
Her hands soothed my back, and I tried to turn, but she kept me in place. Her fingers explored my body until she slid down to my ass. I clenched, and she chuckled.
“I can’t wait for all the fun things we’ll do,” her voice is a vixen-like tune.
“Fun for you,” I snarled.
Though I don’t believe it for a second. If anything, she’d ensured I enjoyed each aspect of her little tutelage if I could withstand the discomfort.
She took her time massaging my ass, cupping it and pressing all the tense spots. There was no lingering pain from yesterday, and I realized she’d gone easy on me. Just a little taste of the main event.
Said event being now.
I was blind with desire. My cock was wild, and I lost control over it. I was only attempting to breathe and tame my moans.
Then she spanked one cheek so loud and hard that the sound of flesh meeting flesh resounded in the room. The sting made me flinch, but I made no sound. She was being gentle. My cock loved it. It was straining now, and I was gulping back moans. She slapped me again, a little harder, but this time I expected it. Aside from the involuntary jump of flesh, I gritted my teeth against any sound.
She chuckled and walked around to inspect my cock. It was bobbing against my stomach. From under my arms, she looked up at me and my mouth flew open.
“You’re such a liar,” she said and then she did something I didn’t expect. She nuzzled my, and I froze at the act. “I could smell you the moment I told you to kneel.”
I strained against my binds because I had a sudden furious need to hold her. But she won’t let me. Fuck her. Fuck her and her soft skin and her–
My brain goes blank when she grabbed my inner thigh in a clasp and ran her sharp nails up and down. I moaned. I can’t help it. The feel goes right to my cock.
“This is how this goes. I’m going to hurt you, Tannor. Badly. When you’ve had enough, when you want me to stop, you’re going to say my name. When you say my name, I know I’ve pushed you to your limit. You can’t take any more.”
She hummed softly and continued caressing my leg. Her other hand goes to my ass, rubbing the sting she left behind.
I’ll eat her name before I ever say it. I’ll never say her name. She’ll have to fucking kill me.
“Say you understand, Tannor,” she said.
I met her eyes. I took my time, so she understood how much I hate her. “Fuck. You.”
She breathed deeply and amusement danced in her eyes. “I see you want it rough today. Very well, my angel. Let’s see how much you can withstand.”
She pulled away and losing her hit me harder than anything she’d abused me with. I felt my skin prickle against the chilly room. I can’t see what she’s doing, and my mind goes into overdrive. It’s a whip. I know it’s a whip. I can handle a whip. I took sharp breaths and clutched my hands.
Slowly she walks back to me, and I felt against the back of my thighs something long and thin, like a rod.
“We’ll start with twenty,” she said.
I stared straight ahead to her bed, to the place where I woke with her curled on me. The sheets are still tossed.
The rod is lifted from my skin.
On that pillow is where I first smelled her hair.
There was a sharp whistle in the air.
I allowed myself to place a finger against her skin just to feel the silkiness of it.
A sharp pain splashes across the back of my upper thighs, and I gasped. My feet danced forward. I couldn’t even speak. The pain took my breath away.
“Like I said, I don’t need magic to make it hurt, Tannor. I have all the right tools,” she said softly.
The rod whistles once more and I gasp before it even hits my flesh. It bites sharply and this time I cry out, dancing on my tiptoes.
“You fucking–”
She brought down the rod again. She landed it in the same spot. I yanked and thrashed, and made incoherent noises. I expected my cock to deflate, but on the contrary. The pain runs right into it; the bulbous head leaked a little.
Nalla paused and ran her fingers over the welts she’d left on my skin.
“You do bruise nicely, Tannor,” she said, and walked around me. She stared at my cock. My breath was still erratic. She touched my cock with the tip of the rod and I open my mouth to plead in panic.
But she smiled slightly and moved the rod down the front of my thighs. She positioned herself and sharply hit the rod three times so fast over the front of my thighs that I didn’t have time to react. It came out as a delayed scream. The pain is visceral. I felt it in my bones. I was twisting, desperate for it to end.
Desperate for her to grab my cock. I’m losing my mind, surely this is it.
As if she reads my thoughts, she grasped my cock and gave it a few delightful tugs. I buckled against her hand.
“That’s six, Tannor.”
She met my eyes. Then she let go of my cock, much to my dismay, and pressed her finger against my neck. I was sweating. She took my sweat and brought it to her lips. The act is so erotic I almost lose my mind. I have lost my mind. In what universe would that be sexy? But in this room, with her, with my thighs on fire and my cock in a near painful erection, I may have lost my mind.
She moved to the side, and I felt the rod against my hip, as if she was creating a perfect circle of welts to encircle my upper legs.
Three times, she whipped me on one side and three more on the other. My spit mingled with screams as it cascaded down my chin and I was snarling angry words at her. I felt like I was surrounded by fire.
“That’s twelve.” She ran her hand over my bareback. “You’re doing so well, darling.”
I want to shove her away, but her touch makes me focus on something other than the burning and the pleasure I’m desperate to feel. A part of me envisions her allowing me to fuck her if I take my twenty swats. Madness.
She placed the switch between my legs and slid it up so that it pressed against my sac. I gasped and move away, but she grabbed my waist and kept me in place.
“No,” I said resolutely.
“Open,” she commanded.
“No.” Fear seeps itself into me for the first time.
“Do you need to say my name?” She paused and stared at me, giving me the opportunity to speak.
I said nothing.
“Then open your legs. If you do not open your legs, I’ll open them and you’ll not like that at all,” she said.
“Oh, because I’m having such a marvelous time now?”
She pressed her finger to the tip of my cock, tickling the slit and rubbing the pre-cum between her fingers. The sensation blinds me.
“Judging by your excitement, I’d say yes.” She tapped the blasted stick again. “Open.”
It’s not that I opened them, it’s that I relaxed them. My body trembled as I prepared myself for what was sure to be the most intense pain of my life if she took her happy switch to my sack. To my utter relief, she didn’t aim for my balls. She aimed for my inner thighs. The relief was temporary. The sting landed on the tender flesh between my legs.
I trashed against the bonds, my legs danced, tears sprung to my eyes, and I yelled obscenities, enraged that I’ve got fucking tears. She hit me three more times this way, which made me angrier. The pain is blinding, and my tongue almost said her name. I would rather sob than say her name. I would never say her name.
“Four more,” she said as she moved in front of me. She was panting.
I could smell something distinct. She’s wet. Crazy fucking bitch–then she interrupted my train of thought by bringing down her rod once across the front of my thighs. Rapidly she moved to the side and went over once more the side welts. She encircled me in four strides and when she was done, my legs gave up under me and I yelled into my arm. Angry screams. I can’t stand.
I didn’t say her name.
I didn’t say her name, but I wanted her to hold me. Like she’d done before. Tell me I did well.
“That’s enough,” she said softly. I hardly heard her, but I felt her. She was moving around the room. She walked back with a cup of water. Her hands were on my head and face, and she pulled me forward.
“Drink, Tannor,” she said.
I don’t know why I obeyed
Nalla cupped my head as I sipped while her fingers caressed my scalp and neck. She pulled back the cup and looked at me, her fingers still stroking my hair.
Her face was tender. “You did good, darling, you did so good.”
I didn’t know why I leaned into her. I couldn’t even speak. It’s not even the worse beating I’ve ever had. But it was the most… intimate. Like the two of us existed in this nucleus. She ran her hand down to my cock and the moment I was encased in her hand, I whimpered. Like a child. Like she had all of me in her palm.
“Please–”
She looked at me. “Please what?”
I shook my head and closed my eyes. It was too much. I was entirely at her mercy and if I was at her mercy, I couldn’t protect myself. I couldn’t protect her. And I would be powerless.
“Look at me, Tannor,” she commanded. “Look who is tugging your cock. If you don’t look at me, I’ll stop.”
She better not stop. I needed her to keep going forever. I obeyed and stare at her.
She pressed herself closer and tightened her grip. I jerked into her hand. Her other hand rubbed at the welts on my thighs. I hissed in pain and pleasure as she applied both.
My emotions frayed, and my brain jumbled between the two feelings. I felt the intense pleasure of her ministrations on my cock. Her grip was tight as she took the cum from the weeping tip and used it to find a steady pace. Her other hand abused my tender wounds. I gasped and mewled, bouncing between the two sensations.
I was nearing the pleasure peak. Then she did something that surely had to do with her magic. She placed her palm on the back of my thighs where it hurts the most and it was like fire was erupting from her hand. I felt all the welts flare up as if she recanted the memory of the fresh beating into my mind. It circled my legs as she tightened her grip on my cock. The intense pleasure and pain erupted my orgasm, and I screamed out her fucking name.
I’d never cum this hard in my life. I kept spurting and spurting until my cum bathed her dress and still she milked each bit until the last rivulet fell as I chanted her name.
When she unlocked the chains, I fell into her arms, spent, like a slug. I feared she would collapse, but she didn’t. She dragged me to bed because my feet trailed behind me. She laid me on my stomach and quickly covered me with a blanket. But I needed her. I needed to feel her, so I wouldn’t fall into the abyss. I desperately reached for her hand, and she pulled me in.
I didn’t know why I needed this. The desperation to touch something because I was lost in a cloud where time and place had no meaning. I realized that in this space; I was free. I had wings, and I flew, but she was the one holding me up.
Our fingers intertwine and I tiredly watched as she soothed lotion and oil on my skin. Pausing to kiss my skin, never letting go of my hand. It was the nicest feeling I ever had in my life. I didn’t even feel pain anymore, just a feeling of being treasured. When she finished, I pulled her to me with the last bit of strength I had.
Willingly, she spread herself next to me, holding my hand and petting my hair. She kissed my forehead and my cheek.
“Don’t leave,” is all I could say. “Don’t leave me alone again.”
She pushed my hair back and kissed me again and again, anywhere but my mouth. It was a tender rain of affection, and I glowed with delight. Like I was the most important thing in her entire life. Like I mattered when, after so long, I hadn’t.
“Rest, my angel. I won’t leave you.”
Her words sunk me into the deepest sleep I ever had in my life.