Chapter 6 #2
The black stone altar dominated the center dais, waist-high and sinister.
Iron restraints were bolted to the upper corners — two per side, one for wrists, the other for ankles.
Smaller platforms scattered throughout the room, each with their own restraints.
Black silk curtains hung fifteen feet in from the walls, absorbing light to make the vast space feel intimate and secret, like a temple to forgotten gods.
Masked vampires strolled in, anonymous in black robes and gold masks.
Zander appeared at her side, magnificent in his own robes and mask. He offered his arm, and she took it, the three of them united even in this anonymous ritual.
The ceremony began with silence.
Zander ascended the stage, and Emmy stood twenty feet away, watching with Spence’s leash looped around her wrist, her thumb rubbing on the leather’s texture.
Security led the first vessel to the altar — Jake the snake shifter. Emmy could tell by the scent even though the makeup made him unrecognizable. He was positioned on his back, wrists and ankles locked into restraints above his head at the corners, his legs spread uncomfortably wide.
The Master Vampire circled the altar once, a predator assessing prey, then positioned himself between the supplicant’s legs.
Zander opened the front of his robes with deliberate grace. His pale skin gleamed in the low light, cock already hard, power radiating from him like cold fire, and thrust into the ritual offering’s ass without ceremony.
Hard. Fast. Brutal.
The inaugural vessel gasped and arched, but made no sound beyond that.
This was the rule — vessels could react but couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg, couldn’t do anything but take what was given.
Screams were only allowed for serious pain, and if one screamed when the vampire didn’t feel it was appropriate, they would give enough pain to make it appropriate.
Emmy watched, arousal coiling tight in her belly, and tugged Spence’s leash gently. Under my robes. Lick my clit.
Without even a second’s hesitation, he went to his knees and disappeared beneath her robes, his mouth finding her pussy with practiced ease.
She stood there, masked and powerful, her legs slightly apart, one hand holding Spence’s leash, watching Zander establish dominance over the evening.
His thrusts were measured, efficient, showing everyone exactly what the night would be. No romance. No gentleness. Just brutal, vicious use.
After perhaps four minutes, he came — body going rigid, a small grunt — and then he leaned down to take a sip from the snake-shifter’s chest, licked the wounds, stood and withdrew his cock, and stepped back.
Another vampire took his place immediately, slamming into the vessel without pause. Then another. Assembly line efficiency, each vampire taking what they wanted and moving on.
Beneath Emmy’s robes, Spence’s tongue worked her clit with maddening skill. Emmy locked her knees and kept her breathing steady, refusing to show how much he was affecting her.
Other platforms began filling with activity. Vessels locked in and held open. The organized chaos of anonymous bodies using anonymous bodies, everyone reduced to sensation and service.
It was beyond objectifying. Dehumanizing in the most literal sense.
And Emmy understood the appeal. She’d have enjoyed being on an altar, but she was happy to be here with her triangle, to be on the arm of the Master, holding the leash of their submissive.
Zander stepped to her, his mental voice clearly amused. You enjoyed the show?
Very much, she replied honestly.
He offered his arm, telepathically ordered Spence to his feet, and walked with Emmy to a bar along the edge of the newly defined room — with Spence following a few steps behind, close enough to keep a little slack in the leash.
Zander sent her a mental image, and she hadn’t known he could do that. It was her grasping the bar over her head, her legs around Spence’s waist, him standing still while she fucked him.
She jumped up to grab the bar, and Zander moved Spence into place. Three seconds later, she was sitting herself down on his hard cock, riding him for all she was worth.
Emmy gripped the bar and moaned, pleasure soaking every cell. She did enjoy being the one in charge.
Through their telepathic connection, she felt Spence’s arousal, his submission, his love wrapped around the physical sensations. This was service for him, being a cock for her to fuck, to use.
Beautiful , Zander told them both.
Before long, Zander moved behind Emmy, lifted the back of her robes, and crammed his cock into her in much the same way he’d done to the snake shifter earlier — with zero gentleness. No checking if she was ready. Just a savage taking, the way the evening demanded.
Emmy gripped the bar and moaned, pleasure and pain battling it out, sweet and sharp at the same time.
Move, Spencer, Zander telepathed, and their boy went into action in front of her, hands gripping her hips, each thrust driving her back while Zander drove her forward.
And Emmy worked hard not to scream through her orgasms. She was in robes, but the rules were all about decorum and silence.
She lost count of how many orgasms she’d had when Zander pulled out of her ass, walked around them, and crammed his cock into Spence’s ass, filling and claiming him with the same violent intent.
Zander’s rhythm behind Spence turned feral, strong hips slamming forward with vampire force, driving Spence’s cock into Emmy in relentless, brutal thrusts that jolted her body up and back with every impact as she hung from the bar.
Spence’s thick length battered deep in her pussy, and it felt as if she was being fucked by both her men at once.
As if Spence was an extension of Zander.
Spence’s hands moved to the back of his head, no doubt an order from Zander, who was still pounding their boy, bouncing her off his body in rhythmic crashes, each slam sending shockwaves through her core, clit slamming against him in ruthless rhythm.
Pleasure built vicious and fast, her walls clenching around Spence in frantic pulses, the friction creating a raw heat she could feel spreading, pain and bliss wound so tight she couldn’t tell one from the other.
Emmy muffled her cries against her arm, body arching, orgasms chaining endlessly in wild detonations that had her spasming hard around Spence, milking him in violent waves, overwhelming her senses and threatening to completely shatter her.
On the crest of yet another orgasm, when she wasn’t sure how many more were in her, she heard Zander’s mental voice ordering Spence to come, and she let hers top the edge and take her over once again.
Spence gave a low grunt, and then his cock pulsed inside her while she came apart around him. Zander followed seconds later, his growl low and satisfied against Spence’s neck.
Emmy let go of the bar and wrapped her arms around Spence, her legs holding on tight, their bodies slick and trembling.
Zander eased out, robes falling closed, and lifted Emmy from Spence’s arms. He guided them to the throne dais and sat in the massive, carved ebony throne, elevated for all to see, arranging Emmy into his lap, making sure she was comfortable.
Her body curled against his chest, and Zander tugged the leash to the side. On your knees boy. On the cushion. If your cock isn’t rock hard in three minutes, you’ll stand and offer your balls for your Mistress to torture.
Once Spence was down, he leaned sideways against Zander’s leg, and Zander reached out to caress their boy’s bald head.
And so they sat, sated, comfortable, and completely at home in the debauchery taking place around them.
Emmy had stood as Zander’s equal tonight. Not flock. Not anonymous vessel. His partner in every way that mattered.
Thank you, she told him silently. For this. For seeing me as your equal.
Always , he replied, and she felt the truth of it through their connection.
And what a sight the ballroom was. Every platform filled with activity. Bodies strapped in and held open, the sound of flesh on flesh, gasps and moans and the wet sounds of penetration.
The objectification of it was stunning — all these people reduced to holes and hands and mouths, interchangeable and indistinct.
Anonymous daywalkers hung from the bars at the edge of the room while vampires in robes whipped them bloody, and now their screams filled the edges, aimed at the black fabric so there were no echoes.
It was the perfect ending to this crazy adventure, and tomorrow, they’d leave this place. In less than twenty-four hours, they’d be back in Anchorage.
Ten days earlier, the sunshine had reappeared for a few hours a day, and it was nice to feel it through the dome, but she couldn’t wait to be outside in it.
It was still much too cold for that here, but it was forty degrees warmer in Anchorage — negative eighteen degrees here, compared to twenty-five in Anchorage.
Never had she imagined she’d ever think twenty-five degrees was anywhere close to warm.
So, a plane ride home tomorrow, and then they’d return to real life.
And then? She had no idea, but she was both terrified and hopeful.