Chapter 32 #2
And, oh, she wanted to feel her knees wrap in those beautiful silks, the other ends tied tight to the headboard so she was nearly immobile.
The bird couldn’t fly away. The demon was caught, the succubus finally getting her way.
Varen didn’t tell her why she didn’t gag her. Nala knew why. She not only wanted to hear her make a shitton of noise and talk back, but she intended on being rough and wanted to give Nala the ability to use her safe word if necessary.
She did blindfold her, though. The darkness overcame Nala, and all she had to go by were the sounds of their bodies and the feel of the bed as it sank beneath Varen’s weight.
Nala’s torso was lifted. Her knees were also trapped, crooked in the air.
The trapped demon was not only unable to flee…
but she was presented on a platter to the woman who would fuck the mischief out of her.
The way Varen spoke to her would never be like that first night again.
Her heart was dark back then, and it would not be tonight.
This was pure role-play, but Varen could certainly deliver on other fronts.
She played along with Nala’s fantasy, fulfilling the idea that she was a bad, bad creature who needed to be tamed and taught a serious lesson. With her body, of course.
“You can’t tame me,” Nala snarled. “I’ll never be docile or demure. I’ll never be a pretty princess who serves a queen.”
That queen spanked Nala’s raw flesh, sending shivers through her body and a hiss through her teeth.
“What a pity if you did turn out that way. I’d much rather fuck the filthy street girl than some cleaned-up, soulless princess,” Varen teased.
“You’re lower than a filthy street girl, though, aren’t you? You’re lower than the dirt on my hands. You’re the kind of menace who preys on the people who want nothing to do with your kind. The only way you’ll learn is if someone like me forces you to learn.”
Oh, what a delightful word. Force.
Although her legs were “forced” open already, Varen clapped both hands on Nala’s hips and pried her thighs farther apart, opening her folds and making her arousal slip effortlessly from her body. Do your worst. I fucking dare you.
Varen loomed over her, baring teeth and purring as if she had finally caught her little bird right where she wanted her. Nala didn’t feel small, though. Nor was she scared. Varen couldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t hurt her. Anything she did? Was toward a pleasurable end that Nala could only dream about.
So, was it any wonder that she gasped in anticipation when Varen threw down the gauntlet that was now Nala’s favorite strap-on?
“Don’t get too excited.” Varen didn’t put it on. Nor did she detach the vibrator from the harness to use separately. “But I can. After all, you’re the one who reminded me how powerful it feels to give myself over, too.”
Nala bit her lip. The straps were over her feet, ankles, shins… as they pulled over her knees, she realized that her role in this bed tonight wasn’t to take. It was to give.
“Whatever you want, Mistress,” she taunted with a sardonic whisper. “I’ll wear the dildo if you want to ride me until morning.”
She didn’t break eye contact as Varen turned on the vibrator the moment the straps were securely in place.
Mother fucker… The vibrations were right on her slit, and Nala had no idea that there was a solid nub that submerged into her wet opening until Varen pushed it in.
She’s gonna kill me. And then herself, I guess!
Varen undid her bun. Usually, her hair was fine and straight when loose on her shoulders.
Being pulled back, put up, and tossed around all day had slightly tangled it into tender curls that danced on her shoulders and shrouded her beautiful face.
She no longer looked like a typical Portland tomboy, but the full-fledged woman who not only owned Nala’s sexuality tonight… but 100% purchased her own. Wholesale.
“Do it,” Nala urged the vibrations slowly expanding through her abdomen as she moaned to see Varen straddling her.
Hands gripped her stomach as Varen steadied herself.
This is so hot. I can’t. Between the image right in front of her and the vibrator working inside of her, Nala was liable to burst right there.
But she wanted to see this. She had to experience this.
“Oh, fuck…” Varen’s veneer faltered as she lowered herself on the strap-on, fingers still digging into Nala’s stomach.
Yet while Varen slowly penetrated herself, Nala was the one who felt pierced, like an arrow to the bird’s breast.
But while the arrow struck her flesh, it would not stay, and the hunter was forced to shoot another arrow at her.
Again. Again. Hips bucking. Chest rising and falling.
Eyes rolling back and hair swishing. Each time deeper, but every time making them cry in extended bliss.
If this were gentle lovemaking, then Varen would take her time taking them to that place, making sure they felt nothing but good as their bodies imagined what it would be like to become one.
Not tonight.
“Why is it never easy?” Varen demanded, spanking Nala’s thigh for her insubordination. “You’re always fighting me. Why do you fight your destiny, Nightingale?”
Nala bit back a groan of relief. Every time Varen thrust her body downward onto the strap-on, she pushed those vibrations deeper into Nala’s body. “I don’t fight anything, ma’am,” she spat. “Perhaps it’s you who isn’t worthy of me.”
Before they moved from Portland and sold most of their belongings to pay for the costs, Nala had gone through some of her parents’ books.
One of them was a book of fairy tales written in the original Russian and English translation.
Although Nala was never as smart as her sister, she read at a fairly young age, and from this book, she learned of spirits, nymphs, and other mischievous types whose purpose was to lure handsome youngsters and facilitate their demise.
Sometimes they were called rusalki, who sang siren songs from lakes and rivers.
In some of these stories, specially trained hunters tracked these nymphs down, then either slayed the nymph or “took her in.”
Some of these spirits became mistresses, and as she grew, Nala wondered if there were erotic undertones to these stories. Now she was living such a story.
Maybe I am a spirit. A demon of vengeance who also felt the extremes of sexual desire and anger.
Varen was the hunter, lured in by the siren song, but remembering her God-granted duty.
To take Nala down. To punish her. To tame her so she could behave in society and no longer exact her anger on the innocent.
So, to insult not only her prowess, but to imply Varen was a terrible hunter…
Nala knew exactly what she was doing. She was the siren, the succubus, and she would only be taken down by a hunter who proved herself worthy.
To submit to a lesser woman brought imbalance to the universe and never filled that chasm of stars again.
“You think highly of yourself for someone who was dumb enough to be trapped.”
“And you think highly of yourself for someone who hasn’t made me come!”
Nala knew she would pay for that. She would be really, really disappointed if she didn’t.
Varen delivered. She slapped a hand over Nala’s mouth while she rode the strap-on, pushing that nub deeper, harder.
So many vibrations. The lowest setting, yet Nala felt every single one tingling not only her extremities but taking her core, her breath to a higher place.
Varen enjoyed the full benefits of the strap-on, but Nala was the one now pierced in the heart.
She squealed against Varen’s palm, that rocking motion finally crashing into her.
She was the siren claimed, her fate now bound and set.
The hunter had her. The hunter took her.
It wasn’t a mere matter of pleasuring her.
This was raw. This was passion at its core, taking them both to another plane of reality as Varen used her and ensured Nala knew what it meant to have her Mistress teach her the real lesson.
Nala held up her end of the role-play by struggling against Varen’s movements, although every inch of her body begged to sit still and enjoy it. Except that wouldn’t have been as thrilling, as satisfying as playing it out this way.
“Fuck!” Nala screamed, still muffled by Varen’s hand, her fingers slipping against her lips as she increased the intensity of her bouncing and grinding.
Nala attempted to flail her arms in pleasure, but the binds were too tight.
She was immobile. Varen’s words of filth and defamation, of pride and dominant tendencies filled her ears.
Nala wouldn’t remember most of it later.
Her mind was so lost to the ether, soaring high above the room, watching the scene play out below her…
that it would have been impossible to retain everything Varen said to her that night.
Whatever it was, it came from a dark place that still lurked deep within her – Nala had a helluva ability of bringing that out during sex.
Varen rocked against her with increasing force.
Nala’s small body could barely take it, but she had to – what choice did she have?
Using her safe word was not an option. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this or couldn’t take it.
It was that her heart raced so quickly that she almost feared the hunter would take them both down.
Any pain, any discomfort disappeared as Varen unleashed her fury.
They were one. They said terrible things to one another, but they were one.
No matter how awful they felt, no matter what crazy fantasies they played out, this was it, this was the real reason they did it all.
Who else could Nala take these feelings out on?
Who else could Varen finally express herself with?
They had come together as total strangers, and now Nala was in love.
Every hard movement, every deep touch of her body as she remained tied for Varen’s use made Nala feel like she was free.
With a determined cry, Varen slammed down onto Nala’s hips while clutching her shoulders.
She rode Nala to climax, movements steady enough to lull her into erotic security.