Read Online VAMPIRE: COLLECTION - TWO HOT & PASSIONATE Vampire Short Stories to Tickle You Numb! (MMF, Menage, Threesome, BDSM, Vampire Romance) by Celia Styles - Free Book Online
Authors: Celia Styles
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religious man who hated his son; the disgust at the things he'd done to get himself out of Iowa; the hatred of himself and the depths to which he'd sunk. "Oh," I said. "You never said anything," I marveled.
"You never asked," he said.
I realized, then, why he'd been so eager to sign the contract that would essentially reduce him to nothingness for the rest of his life. I'd assumed that he had been as Reshi once was--a young man with no prospects, whose tastes were a bit kinky. It never occurred to me that anybody could need this.
I kissed his forehead and drew his head to my chest. "You'll tell me the story when you're ready," I said.
"My lady is too kind," he murmured.
I stood up. "But. You did defy me, and you did violate the terms of the contract. And I cannot allow that to go unpunished. If you will not be released, then you must be punished."
The room had steel eyelets embedded in the floor and ceiling, three in the floor and three in the ceiling. A shudder ran through Nicholas's body, but he accepted my judgment without protest. "I accept whatever my lady deems fit," he murmured.
I put a finger under his chin and bade him to rise, wondering if he could sense my heart pounding in my chest, the tremor running through my body. Charles and Reshi had been right--it would be wrong to whip him--but at the same time, I'd never done something like this to a thrall before. The plan--what wisps and faint traces there were of one--were just starting to form. Punishing a thrall had its own set of rules: this violation, so many lashes of the whip; that isolation, so many days in isolation; pre-ordained by the Order Chiefs so that there would be no envy between thralls. Falling in love usually called for the release of the thrall, but how did one punish a thrall who didn't wish to break the contract?
Adding to my nervousness was that this was the first time I'd ever been on the giving end of the pain. I'd whipped him, yes, but that wasn't the same. Pain alone would not suffice for the purpose of this punishment--I had to make sure he would not love me again, and for that I would have to hurt him.
I shackled his ankles to the eyelets in the floor, the ones that were furthest apart. I did the same to his wrists, making a human "X" in the middle of the room, and then took a step back to collect myself. The look in his eyes was that of absolute submission, which only ate away at my resolve that much more. I found a silk scarf and tied it around his eyes.
I ran my hands up and down his body, not quite ready to commit to this. It was possible that he'd never trust me again. It was possible that he'd break under my hands. It was possible that what I was going to do would ruin him forever, that the only thing he would be good for was feeding afterwards. That he'd never recover--that this body of his, in all its rippling delights, and the majestic grandeur of having his cock inside me, would never happen again as long as he lived. I would go insane.
Well, don't we all?
There was nothing to do but go forward. "Discipline," I said, taking the riding crop and smacking the inside of his thigh, "is often confused with punishment, but they are not the same. Punishment is a consequence." I brought the crop down hard across his ass. He inhaled sharply, but didn't cry out. "A foregone conclusion." I smacked his right nipple with the crop. "A result of a poor choice of actions." Now the left.
"Yes, Lady Sybil," he said, panting.
"Discipline is designed to teach," I continued, tracing the tip of the crop up his side. He shuddered but otherwise remained still. I stepped away, found the right box, chose a dildo, slicked it with some lube. "It is designed to impart a lesson. To change the person who experiences it." I brought the tip of it against his ass, and braced myself.
His body convulsed. I was thrown aside, but I
"You never asked," he said.
I realized, then, why he'd been so eager to sign the contract that would essentially reduce him to nothingness for the rest of his life. I'd assumed that he had been as Reshi once was--a young man with no prospects, whose tastes were a bit kinky. It never occurred to me that anybody could need this.
I kissed his forehead and drew his head to my chest. "You'll tell me the story when you're ready," I said.
"My lady is too kind," he murmured.
I stood up. "But. You did defy me, and you did violate the terms of the contract. And I cannot allow that to go unpunished. If you will not be released, then you must be punished."
The room had steel eyelets embedded in the floor and ceiling, three in the floor and three in the ceiling. A shudder ran through Nicholas's body, but he accepted my judgment without protest. "I accept whatever my lady deems fit," he murmured.
I put a finger under his chin and bade him to rise, wondering if he could sense my heart pounding in my chest, the tremor running through my body. Charles and Reshi had been right--it would be wrong to whip him--but at the same time, I'd never done something like this to a thrall before. The plan--what wisps and faint traces there were of one--were just starting to form. Punishing a thrall had its own set of rules: this violation, so many lashes of the whip; that isolation, so many days in isolation; pre-ordained by the Order Chiefs so that there would be no envy between thralls. Falling in love usually called for the release of the thrall, but how did one punish a thrall who didn't wish to break the contract?
Adding to my nervousness was that this was the first time I'd ever been on the giving end of the pain. I'd whipped him, yes, but that wasn't the same. Pain alone would not suffice for the purpose of this punishment--I had to make sure he would not love me again, and for that I would have to hurt him.
I shackled his ankles to the eyelets in the floor, the ones that were furthest apart. I did the same to his wrists, making a human "X" in the middle of the room, and then took a step back to collect myself. The look in his eyes was that of absolute submission, which only ate away at my resolve that much more. I found a silk scarf and tied it around his eyes.
I ran my hands up and down his body, not quite ready to commit to this. It was possible that he'd never trust me again. It was possible that he'd break under my hands. It was possible that what I was going to do would ruin him forever, that the only thing he would be good for was feeding afterwards. That he'd never recover--that this body of his, in all its rippling delights, and the majestic grandeur of having his cock inside me, would never happen again as long as he lived. I would go insane.
Well, don't we all?
There was nothing to do but go forward. "Discipline," I said, taking the riding crop and smacking the inside of his thigh, "is often confused with punishment, but they are not the same. Punishment is a consequence." I brought the crop down hard across his ass. He inhaled sharply, but didn't cry out. "A foregone conclusion." I smacked his right nipple with the crop. "A result of a poor choice of actions." Now the left.
"Yes, Lady Sybil," he said, panting.
"Discipline is designed to teach," I continued, tracing the tip of the crop up his side. He shuddered but otherwise remained still. I stepped away, found the right box, chose a dildo, slicked it with some lube. "It is designed to impart a lesson. To change the person who experiences it." I brought the tip of it against his ass, and braced myself.
His body convulsed. I was thrown aside, but I
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