Mistress of Redemption
Page 9

 Joey W. Hill

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As his knees drew up in a fetal position, Nathan wished he wasn’t in such horrid pain so that he could get to Fiona and snap her damn neck. The leopard arched just behind her legs, fuzzed up, teeth bared in a menacing hiss.
That’s right. You hide back there, Fluffy. You know I’ll whip your spotted ass. Jesus, I’m dying here.
Then Dona was there, her hand on his brow soothing him, even as he rocked with the pain. One hand brushed his belly and loosened the straps while her other hand caressed his buttock. A moment later she gripped the torture device and eased it out of him. His tender tissues wept in relief so that he couldn’t stop himself from groaning.
He’d had a lot of competent Mistresses. Hell, the best. That’s why he went after them in the first place. Mistresses who liked to play on the far edge loved him because he was able to keep his cock hard under all forms of duress. However, Dona took the scale of intense arousal and pain to a whole new level. The best opponent he’d ever had and he hadn’t even chosen her.
His cock still throbbed with frustration, her scent heavy under his nose, on his lips.
Just the press of her body behind him made his lust spike higher, even though he might be bleeding to death from his ass. Struggling to his back despite the discomfort of rolling onto his bound arms, he stared up at her. He was surrounded by some of the finest pussy he’d ever seen, but it was hers specifically he wanted to look at, to touch.
He wanted to hear her command him to fuck her. He would do it well, make her want to take him home, keep him at her bidding until…
Until he was done with her. Until he broke her. Because he always had a finish line.
She tilted her head, her fingers stroking over his chest, pinching his nipples. “You misbehaved. You’re required to take any level of pain from me without complaint, with devotion and beg for more. That’s what I demand from my slave. Stretch out your legs and spread them for me.”
He did. As he lifted his head, this time he was able to see the ground slither, undulate. Before he could jerk away, ropes of green grass ran around his ankles and thighs, anchored him to the ground. The same now came across his forehead and chest, yanking his head back down, holding him fast, immobile. The strain on his shoulders from his folded arms increased exponentially. The confidence he’d momentarily felt at knowing he’d brought her pleasure evaporated.
“What is this place?” He couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. The women were descending on him again. They marched forward with the deliberate forward progress of zombie armies in B-movies. Indifferent to the cries of their victims and driven only by hunger. Mariah now carried a black satchel. As she knelt by him and opened it for Dona’s inspection, he saw it had a variety of needles and clamps in it.
Fiona stepped to Dona’s side, drawing her attention away from him.
“He wants to see you,” she murmured. “Right away.”
“Then I’ll go to Him,” his Mistress responded.
“Dona, what are you… What are they… Please…” He was too desperate to articulate.
Rising, she put her foot on his chest. In a blink, instead of the swimsuit she was back in her first outfit, the stiletto heel grinding into his chest, those full breasts once again high and proud. “Do you know what to do with a Mistress’s foot, Nathan?” He stared up at her. As if in a dream, he kissed the sole of the boot she pressed to his lips so he tasted the dirt and grass she’d walked through. “This isn’t real,” he said when she lifted her foot away. He tasted the grit in his teeth.
“It’s very real. It’s also illusion. That’s what makes it possible for the pain to go on and on.”
His eyes snapped over to Olivia as she lifted her hand, displaying four D-rings and a handful of wide barbells. Dona nodded. “Those will do.”
“Will do what? What are you doing?” Though he was very afraid he knew what.
He was beginning to have a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time, a feeling he’d never wanted to have again. Plotting for control of the situation would not only be foolish, but futile. Somehow Dona seemed to know his darkest areas, where desire and terror were violent bed partners.
“I have to go away for a while, as Fiona said.”
“Who is ‘him’?” It was ridiculous that he could feel jealousy in the midst of all of this, but there it was.
“One who can’t be refused. Just like me.” Bending, she cupped the side of his face in a surprisingly gentle hand. He wanted to weep and suckle that fluttering pulse at once. He tried the latter, but she was out of reach and he was too restrained, which made him want to rage even harder against his bonds, the situation.
This should have seemed like his time with his previous sociopath of a Mistress, but it didn’t. She hadn’t made him jealous while threatening him with sharp implements.
She hadn’t left him wanting more, even with his ass smarting so badly he wouldn’t have easy bodily functions for a week. She hadn’t made him tremble with just a touch.
“You’ll refuse me nothing, will you?”
He found himself nodding even as he wondered what spell she’d cast on him. “Just don’t go to him.”
“Your slave is possessive, Dona,” Olivia murmured. Nathan didn’t hear any mockery in her tone or expression. If anything, she looked as if his uncensored declaration had startled her.
“Nathan will learn my Will is his only possession.” Dona straightened, giving him a leisurely perusal. Under her intent regard, Mariah removed the cock harness and caressed his broad head, making his hips jerk because he was so aroused.
“While I’m gone,” Dona said almost absently, watching Mariah fondle him, “Fiona will pierce your nipples and your cock. You’ll have a ring inserted at the crown so I can attach a leash to you more easily. She’ll also insert one in your scrotum for when I wish to collar your balls with weights and stretch them.” When Mariah pushed his organ flat against his belly, letting Dona see the underside, she sharpened her gaze on him there, creating a cold ball of fear in his vitals. “Four barbells will be inserted along the bottom length of your cock, a ladder. I want to climb it with my fingers, weave all sorts of chains and beads into it to decorate you as I wish.” His airway squeezed down to the size of a straw, the terror of the picture putting him on the edge of hyperventilating. Underscoring her threat, the women were removing the clamps and needles from the satchel. “I…” He swallowed on a dry throat.
“I want to be able to serve you as you wish, Mistress. You know the piercing will take a lot of healing time.”
Those red wet lips lifted in a grim smile. “Pain is an illusion here. It will go on as long and intensely as I wish you to experience it. So until I get back you’ll be in agony.
You’ll feel the throbbing pain of the piercings in their newness. It’s a considerable amount of pain.” Her eyes flashed in anticipation of it. At the sign of her arousal in contemplating it, damn if his cock didn’t bob up further.
“Ah, Nathan. You’re a pleasure. It makes me even wetter, the way you respond to my desire. When I come back, if you’ve pleased me, I’ll heal you with a kiss on each area. You’ll be able to serve me any way I wish. The stimulation of the nerve endings after the piercing is healed is…a unique feeling.” Her gaze came back to his, full of sensual promise. Gooseflesh rose along his body at the sight of it. “You might just stay erect for me most of the time. Of course, you seem to stay that way for me now. It’s very impressive.”
“Come down here and let me impress you more.” His voice was desperate, even to his own ears.
She tsked at him. “With your size, I like keeping you fully erect. It will keep you dizzy and off balance. That’s a good thing for you.”
“Dona—” He clenched his fists in his restraints as she turned away. As Fiona raised the first needle and Olivia put the clamp on his left nipple, lifting it, he cried out, unable to bear it anymore. “Tell me what the fuck this place is.” She glanced over her shoulder. He tried to cling to her expression and not look at what was about to happen to him. The binding on his forehead loosened. Seizing his collar, Mariah cupped the back of his head, forcing it down so he had to watch the needle come toward his nipple. He strained against her grip, trying to get one more glimpse of his Mistress.
“You know where we are, Jonathan.” Dona raised her arms and spun, gesturing to the palm trees, lush grass and mirror-like lagoon, the gently shining sun. “This is Hell.” As she stepped through a portal that opened like a shimmering mirage between two palm trees, he began to scream.
Chapter Five
Lucifer summoned her to one of His more pleasant illusion chambers. This one was like a gentleman’s study in a Victorian novel. Except an inordinately large fire roared in the grate and the pictures on the walls tended to shift in macabre images. The gargoyle statues positioned around the room might be alive or inanimate from moment to moment.
He sat in a deep wing-backed chair. Approaching at His gesture, she dropped to her knees. Bowing her head, Dona felt that inexplicable desire she always felt in His presence, to just put her head in His lap and be comforted where no comfort could be had.
“Now you’re submissive and obedient.” He snorted. The wave of heat from the gesture brought sulfur to her nostrils. “Moments ago you were defiant as a child. ‘This is my home’, indeed.”
“This is my home, my Lord. Where I want to be.”
“This is not where you want to be. This is where you hide.”
“Do I not serve you well here?”
When she felt His regard over His cup of wine, she raised her gaze. He was everything the books said. The fallen angel, too beautiful to be real, but also not exactly what they thought He was. He had many names, none of which was completely accurate or defined him. He was as much Hades to the Greeks as He was Satan to the Christians or the Horned God to the pagans. He could be the shadow in the night or the mightiest of the angels serving a terrible, fearful purpose. The purpose that provided a fallen soul a new beginning when it was needed. Or the bridge to continue the journey to enlightenment.