Feed Me Harder Ch. 04

The chief cum bringer is called "Sciatta", meaning wet slut, if she shows any sign she enjoys being brutalised. Very occasionally, the Donna refers to the poor bitch as "Fica", although the title is ironic. Fica means cunt, but the Donna is only ever interested in fisting the other hole. Oblata seems to be her actual name, but the Donna also uses that word to refer to the contents of the woman's overused bottom.

Oblata brings regular offerings to fill Ramona's pussy, but this ritual seems to irritate the Donna more each day. The exquisite wing piercings are soon complimented by others in all Ramona's soft parts, almost as if the cruel mistress must reassert her claim after each insemination.

The nipples were the first to suffer that honour. As soon as the clamp bit into that sensitive flesh Ramona's eyes widened in horror, but she knew better than to object.

The Donna pierced Ramona's teats with steel rings as thick as curtain hooks, flesh stretched tight around the metal. The first time Ramona was lifted off the floor by those sensitive buds she almost passed out. Thankfully the agony was brief, and came with equally intense rewards.

Yesterday saw a tiny pair of jewelled rings set into her pussy lips. There are a handful of similar ornamental piercings hooked through the areolas of each breast, contrasting the thicker steel rings needed for restraint.

Now a sturdy collar matches the wide cuffs on her wrists and ankles. It was Ramona's reward for a few devoted hours using the devil's tongue on her Donna's tits and pussy. It sits on her slender neck, a thick band of hard leather with a huge steel ring on one side, a sharp buckle on the other, unashamedly crude in this opulent palace.

Her bottom is no longer plugged, and she's not allowed to fuck herself anymore. Instead, a polished meat hook splits her peach, the inch wide metal teasing rather than filling her rear. She earned the hook by reluctantly but thoroughly fisting her own arse the third time offerings were shoved up her pussy.

The Donna's favourite overnight bondage is to splay her Piccola's tightly folded legs as wide as they can go, and anchor her by that hook from the ceiling like a chandelier. The barbed tips of Ramona's wings and tail are carefully lashed together and padded. A silk rope runs from her ass hook to the main anchor point, with the length passing between her wings. Another runs up from her collar to the anchor, meaning that if she leans forward the stress on her poor hole lessens but she chokes; the buckle cutting in under her chin.

Her wrist cuffs are chained to her nipple rings, meaning the only way to relieve the pressure on her rim is to fold her wings right back and grip the rope between them. If she were to unhook her ass, her weight would all fall through her neck. Would that be preferable to life spent like this? Debauched service with no end in sight?

The Donna admits that hearing Ramona's sweet moans and whimpers along with regular squeals of frustration keeps her soaking wet all night, and the genuine respect and gratitude Ramona shows in the morning when she's allowed down is pleasing.

Ramona has the stamina to take whatever her Donna gives her, but hanging all night is exhausting. Her own favourite nighttime bondage is less painful and far less passive

It is to have her wings and tail left free, her legs folded as usual but otherwise unconfined, and her wrist cuffs linked and pulled back over her head, tightly roped to her hook. It's the closest she's allowed to come to fucking her own bottom these days but best of all it leaves her breasts and belly vulnerable to her lover, and her mouth and tail free to reciprocate. She loves to straddle the Donna's face and eat out her mistress's pussy, making a cocoon for them with her leathery black demon wings as they come together.

On the nights they lie together as lovers, Ramona forgets her fears, and submission to her Donna's control becomes natural. It's the thought of delivering some inhuman infant that horrifies her.

Semen usually soaks into Ramona's body, subduing the hunger that gnaws her belly, but Salvatore's offerings are different. His spunk sits high up in her pussy, as high as the Donna's fist can pound it. The fat metal plug is always put back to hold it all in. There it stews, separate, defiling her insides, enflaming her lust. Ramona can feel it oozing around the metal intruder, smell it alongside the constant scent of her own arousal.

Lying in post coital bliss, it occurs to Ramona that her Donna's pussy was full the first time she ate it out, but it has never been since. That semen had sparked lust the second it touched Ramona's lips, and awakened an infernal hunger that took a hundred men to satisfy.

"Did you fuck Salvatore and feed me his come?" she blurts out without thinking.

The cruel pinch on her nipple makes Ramona yelp. She is dragged up the bed by the pinch of skin, and eye to eye with her mistress she whimpers softly.

"What did you just say?" Donna Valentino says quietly, never letting the teat go.

"I..." Ramona stammers, "it's j... just..."

Slap.

There's a tang of blood as her teeth cut the inside of her cheek and she can feel every detail of the Donna's palm print on her face. The blow stuns Ramona so much, when her teat is freed she barely notices. Then the world spins sharply and both her nipples scream, on fire.

Ramona wails in terror as Donna Valentino deftly suspends her from those most tender and sensitive peaks, still throbbing only minutes after orgasm.

"Oh god, please don't, pleeeease!" she begs. "Aaaaa haaa! Mistress! Mercy!!"

"Jealous, ungrateful little bitch," the Donna seeths, slapping Ramona's arse hard enough to set her swinging. "You begrudge me my pleasure?"

"Nooo!"

The Donna's anger is replaced by an eerie calm.

"What the hell... jealous! I r... remembered the t... taste is all." Ramona sobs. "I... I was thinking about the first taste... it set me on fire... pleeeease!"

Helpless, Ramona writhes, desperately trying to counter the swinging momentum by opening her wings. She darent look at the horror of her mutilated breasts, but stares wide-eyed at her mistress's calculating face. An expression of cold hatred slowly twists the stony features.

"That miserable old bastard."

"What are you... where are you going!" Ramona shrieks.

The door closes and Ramona is alone. She hyperventilates as the flesh of her tits stretches.

"Oh god!" she wails.

Her ragged little breaths make her sway gently in her bondage. The intense pain in her teats gives way to a twisting ache reminiscent of the constant pull of her hook. Even now she's calm, resentment burns in her heart. This is not love. This is NOT love. Her body betrays her every time with this infernal lust, even now she longs for relief. Jealous? Ungreatful? Donna Valentino is mad.

A little whimper from behind the bed snaps her out of her self pity.

"Oblata?" Ramona says quietly, not wanting to scare the girl. "Is that you?"

The whimpers stop. Poor woman. Pushed away onto the floor hours ago, she must have been prostrating herself down there the whole time.

"Did she forget you were here?"

"It doesn't matter. She'll be back." Hoarse from crying? Or perhaps something else has worn out her throat.

The woman has a well heeled North American east coast accent. She stays low on the floor as she crawls around the bed, following the sound of Ramona's voice.

It takes a couple of minutes for her to find the courage to kneel up and nervously pull the goggles down off her eyes.

"Gods," she breathes in quiet terror. "You really are monsters." Her plump lower lip trembles and she shakes her head. "I'm dead." Her eyes fill with tears.

Ramona shifts uncomfortably in her bonds. She holds the woman's gaze as best she can. Her eyes are such a deep shade of blue, framed by long black lashes like a baby doll. Her skin is marked by the pressure of the goggles, the pink halos ridiculous on her otherwise beautiful face.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Oblata. You should probably get back into position and wait for our Donna."

"It's over." The tears fall making beautiful trails down her rosy cheeks. "She knows. You don't understand."

Ramona breaks eye contact and pushes her frustration aside. What little of her uncorrupted self remains is disgusted. Ramona would kiss those tears away, pin Oblata to the carpet and ream her until the woman forgot how to feel anything but orgasm.

"Salvatore is in love with someone else. It's his papa I've been visiting to collect your tribute. I had no choice," Oblata says miserably. "You should be pregnant by now, little Donna. That's why she's so angry."

Ramona squirms, the congealed offerings inside her even more unwelcome now. "Did Salvatore get away somehow?"

The woman nods. "I'm dead. God help me." She rubs the tears away with a shaky hand.

"This really hurts you know?" Ramona says bitterly. "I never wanted to make demon babies, I had no choice. The only consolation... whose junk is in me then?"

"I told you, it's his father's seed. The old man made a deal with the Donna but without Salvatore..."

"Cut me down. Please?" Ramona keeps her voice steady, calm, as human as she can make it. "Give us both a chance?"

Oblata's eyes dart from the Ramona to the door then back again. "If I help you, swear you won't leave me behind?"

Ramona would swear anything right now to take the pressure off her poor breasts. "I promise." The weight of the Word connects them as sure as leather and steel. From the puzzled look on Oblata's face, the woman wasn't expecting it either. "Now help me get down!"

The girl stands gracefully, her eyes now level with Ramona's stretched tits. She fingers the seamless rings, and the rugged carabiners that clip through them.

The chandelier fixture in the ceiling can come up and down on a mechanism, but the Donna rarely bothers with it. She's strong enough to throw Ramona around as needed, and confident with her rigging.

"My hands." Ramona says, feeling the blush spread from her cheeks across her breasts under Oblata's scrutiny. "And the leg straps. Please hurry."

"Sorry." Oblata reluctantly leaves Ramona's tortured breasts and gasps as she gets a good look at the arse hook. "So cruel," she whimpers.

Ramona moans in relief as her hands are freed, her purple fingers claw at the tit ropes, the weakened grip is no help at all. She's expecting the burn as blood flow returns but it still makes her weep as hard as the first time. Next the straps are removed from her legs and as they unbend for the first time in days, Ramona wails. Her thighs burn and her knees pop as she forces herself to stand.

Oblata holds her, the woman's knees tremble with the effort of supporting them both. Finally there is enough slack in the tit ropes to unclip the carabiners and the pair of them slump to the floor in relief. The hook drops out of Ramona's bottom with a heavy thud.

"Oh! Oh fuck!" The emptiness is like a punch in the stomach. Clumsily Ramona penetrates herself with her sharp tail, and with agony comes clarity. Her hands recover quickly. She tears out the jewelry from her tits, mangling the precious metal in her haste. The bigger nipple rings will have to stay for now, they need magnets to open them. Ramona unbuckles the collar and cuffs and casts them aside with a heartfelt sob. She clings to Oblata with all the passion of desperation. "Get it out of me, please, all of it!"

Ramona keens in wordless gratitude as Oblata rids her sex of the enormous metal intruder and replaces it with the vigorous thrusting of her soft hand. She draws out the spoiled mess of come spreading pink trails on the plush white carpet, and presses her busy lips against Ramona's clitoris.

"My Donna," the girl moans as Ramona humps her face, "give it all to me!"

Release comes to both of them as Oblata scours Ramona clean of the cursed semen. Breathless they lie, a tangle of soft human limbs and tough demon parts, with Ramona gently shafting herself as she fingers exhausted Oblata. She is more than awake, more than aware of the sacrifice Oblata has made. She can taste the girl's musk and the spirit behind it, a wellspring barely tapped.

"I am done being used like a slave." Ramona says. The truth cuts deep considering what she's promised Donna Valentino, but it won't be denied. "I know my place is not under anyone's foot."

"I can't die here, it's not fair." Oblata sobs.

Ramona kisses away the woman's tears. "Did you lie to Donna Valentino?"

"I said nothing!"

"It wasn't your place to say anything though, was it?" Those firm tits with their puffy cafe au lait teats draw Ramona's lips to suckle. "You're my good girl. Tell Donna Ramona what happened. Tell me everything."

A honey liquid with a bare hint of cinnamon spills from Oblata's breast. Ramona laps daintily at the syrup as the girl squeals her pleasure. She draws her fingers slowly between the girl's labia, collecting the sweet salt of pleasure, offering it to the thrall's mouth. Oblata sucks the cream from Ramona's fingers and the cloud of despair dissolves.

"Will you remember this?" Ramona asks gently, "Whatever else happens, whatever I have to say to get us through it, remember you're mine?"

Oblata nods and moans softly as Ramona's fingers find her wet hole again. "I am still Oblata, if I am yours."

Ramona frowns, confused, but keeps her fingers busy. "You are?"

"I hated myself. I hated my family." Her beautiful blue eyes find Ramona's again. "They sold me to perverts, they prostituted me." She reaches up to touch the curve of a demonic wing, then Ramona's furrowed brow, coming to rest lovingly against her mistress's cheek. "I can't think straight while you're doing that my lady."

"They don't want us thinking." Ramona leans in to kiss Oblata's willing mouth. She guides the girl's hand and shudders as obliging fingers come to rest inside her. "I need this. Don't ask why, I can't explain, but I'm more myself this way. Do you mind?"

"I love the way you feel on my hand." Oblata's voice is husky with lust and weeping. And all the abuse she has endured.

They come to rest at last. Oblata encircled by Ramona's arms, her head on her lover's shoulder, Ramona on her back, knees spread stuffed with tail and fingers from both their hands cupped together. Their dark hair and Ramona's wings serve as bed sheets.

Ramona fights the urge to suck and fuck until there's nothing left, and listens.

"So, I had a name before, but it doesn't matter." Oblata says. "I can't tell anybody because if I do, my whole family's lives will end. It won't be quick, it won't be pretty, so please don't dig just because you're curious. There was a ritual when I was a year old and my name was given to Layla, Lady of Night. I always knew. Not in a sense that..." Oblata's free hand wanders again and Ramona can't help smiling as curious fingers trace the more sensitive lower edge of her wing.

"That feels good."

"Do you want to..."

"I always 'want to' but I won't. I need to hear your story."

Oblata's soft fingers close around Ramona's sharp wing tip and they settle back down.

"Forgive me. There's not much to tell. All my life I was waiting for something, everything else, family, friends, school, church, was unreal. In my dreams she was there, but until it happened I just thought... well. I thought I was crazy but it is real, all of it. No one sat me down and explained as such but I've figured some things out for myself. There are a dozen different families all over the world whose fortunes would have been wiped out if they hadn't done the same deal. Every generation the third child comes here to pay the debt."

Unreal is the word. Ramona felt it too, always putting it down to her parent's rigorous influence.

"Since you've been here, was it always like this?"

"No."

There's a long silence. Ramona feels the tension in Oblata's body, the fingers that tighten, the forehead pressing into her shoulder. In that silence, Ramona knows it has been worse. Far worse.

"Oblata don't speak unless spoken to, my mouth isn't... I don't speak. It hurts to speak, my... when I took the cover off my eyes it... I only did it because..."

"Are there many rules?"

"Yes. And sometimes they make no sense. Like now, I missed my cleansing time, my feeding time, all because I was obeying an order that I have to obey, but I would still be punished. If I wasn't dead."

"You keep on saying that."

"I thought Donna Valentino was a sadist, I thought I was her whore, are you saying it doesn't matter that I've seen the truth? That all my dreams..."

"What kind of creature is Salvatore's father?"

"I never saw him naked, around his house he always covers himself up but I've noticed tattoos, his cock is covered in them. I thought he was a crazy old man but now I'd bet money he's some kind of magician. He does things to people and animals that you wouldn't believe, and there are others that work with him but his son wanted nothing to do with it. Since the boy ran he seems desperate."

"Who do you belong to?"

Oblata doesn't hesitate.

"You, Donna."

"But they both have power over you? The old man and Donna Valentino?"

"Of course. Oblata die here every day and none of them die old. If I'm not Oblata I'm nothing."

A hot tear runs from the thrall's cheek onto Ramona's chest. It soaks into her skin just like semen. Clarity is the gift of tears. Donna Valentino is weak, Casa Valentino is a peach ripe for the taking, and If Ramona doesn't devour it, this wicked world is full of powers that will.

"Trust me. I will make sure you don't suffer for obeying my orders. Go and put your goggles back on, get into position on the floor."