Spellbound Ch. 03

"Oh, yes." His voice was a low rumble as she attempted to wriggle away. "Make that little cunt dance for me." She was horrified to feel his tongue snaking its way from bottom to top, and yelped in surprise. She shouted at him to stop, but it came out as a shrill plea. Though she strained her neck attempting to look over her shoulder, she couldn't even see what he was doing to her.

The wet warmth of his tongue violated her once more, and he purred as if tasting a delicacy. While holding her lips apart, he covered her with his mouth and began to lick slowly. Her legs tensed, and she sucked in a breath. It became clear very quickly that he was indeed one of Maira's past kills, and she'd instructed him thoroughly on what she enjoyed. He remembered. Her eyelids fluttered in astonishment. It was all she could do to keep a moan from escaping her throat. Despite her revulsion, there was no denying that he was skilled, and her body reacted accordingly. It became a conscious struggle to stave off her arousal, as his mouth bent her body to his will.

She bit down on the gag as he swirled his tongue in tight circles. She attempted to concentrate on something else, anything else, as her heart hammered in her chest. Her nerves were alight with sensation, and she perceived almost nothing else. Just as her abdomen began to tense, he pulled away and stood. Maira released a shaky sigh of relief. She'd come shamefully close to climax.

Her entire body jumped as he inserted a finger, testing her. When he withdrew it, she could feel herself dripping. He snorted.

"Liked it that much? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He wiped his finger off by dragging it over her back. "You are a simple beast. Capable of little else."

He appeared in her frame of view and removed his shirt, his demeanor nonchalant. He folded it neatly, placed it aside, and then began unlacing his breeches. Maira glanced at him, anxiety clear in her expression. Her heart raced. There was only one reason he would do this where she could see: he wanted her to look. She was unsure whether it would have been worse to have him disrobe out of sight.

He wasn't a particularly endowed man. But any amount of him invading her body would have been intolerable. He was pale all over, as if the only light his body saw was that of candles and hearths. It made him appear as cold as his demeanor.

Though he was already extremely hard, he stroked himself several times as he walked back around behind her. Fear and revulsion coiled in her stomach, and she yanked on the bindings holding her wrists and ankles. "No..." she began to moan, "no no no..." Her words were unintelligible. He didn't respond. Instead, he spread her lips wide once more,and ran the tip of his cock along her slit. Maira writhed, and her pleas became more urgent. He pushed inside her, desecrating her body. Maira thrashed wildly, and the gag muffled her screams. Her chains banged against the solid wood as he slid all the way in. He gasped and moaned.

Disgust grew with the realization that no magic would be saving her from the torment of feeling violated so thoroughly; it fluttered weakly in response to their connection, but could not reach out and retrieve all that Baccus felt. Small fragments of hatred and anger pelted her like hail, but that was all. She was alone in her body.

However, no amount of magical siphoning could change what she was. Not without killing her. She was still a succubus, perfect in frame and flesh, and moulded for otherworldly pleasures. The immense satisfaction of laying with her was as much a certainty as her very existence. To her dismay, Maira realised she would be just as pleasurable to fuck as she was when at full strength.

Baccus grunted open-mouthed, lost in the moment, and paid no heed to her noisily writhing form. Her screams of protest were punctuated by his long, loud moans of satisfaction.

"Ahhh, just as I remembered!" he exclaimed, "So perfect, and soft." He punctuated his words with thrusts. His hands gripped her waist firmly, and she was bent at an angle that allowed him to penetrate deeply without any interference. Never before had she felt a man's cock enter her without also feeling his pleasure. It was foreign and unnerving; there was no joy, no satisfaction to feed on. Just the friction of him pumping against her slick walls.

Maira screamed and sobbed, then yelped when he slapped her ass. It still ached from the previous blows, and began to throb with pain. The feeling of wrongness multiplied.

Maira had no idea how long the torture would last, as she could not feel how close he was. She clung to a hope that when he climaxed, it would imbue her with just enough energy to escape the camp.

Baccus slid a hand under her torso, greedily clutching her breast without any mind for how hard he squeezed. His moans became higher and louder, and he was beside himself with delight. His jubilant cries of "yes,yes!" were undercut with muffled screams of "no!" The thrusts came more forcefully, and after a minute longer he released a long, wordless moan.

He suddenly withdrew from her. Maira gasped.

Then he finished himself with a few final strokes, and his hot seed hit her back uselessly. Maira screamed in frustration and despair. She could feel its power dispersing instantly as it slid over her skin.

It took him several seconds to finish, a moan escaping his lips with each spasm of his cock. There had been so much. So much wasted.

He finally heaved a mighty sigh, and crossed in front of her to collect his clothing. He didn't say another word to her; didn't even spare her a glance. He simply dressed and disappeared out of sight around the huge tent.

Maira hid her face between her arms as hopelessness washed over her. She felt used and unclean, and shame stained her mind. Her body ached where she'd tugged against her bonds, and where she'd been shoved against the table.

There was something about the heavy thing which had been bothering her. Aside from the obvious fact that such an object was set up in a campsite, something was wrong about it. There were were sturdy metal loops and hooks inlaid in the wood by a skilled smith, all along its surface and legs. But that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the fact that the wood and metal looked worn, used, and well cared for. The leather and chain of her cuffs also looked several years old, with scuffs which had been cleaned and oiled often.

With a sinking dread, Maira realized she was not the first, the second, nor even the tenth woman to be bound to this table.

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Chapter 4 will be posted in 1 week.