Feed Me Harder Ch. 05

Content warning: non-consent, slavery, forced seduction, indeed, a well earned hate fuck, demons are not nice people x enjoy.

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From the very first, Ramona has done nothing but endure and submit. Now Oblata's rebellion puts that fearful submission to shame. So what if the Donna gets angry? The truth is Donna Valentino is half the demon Ramona has become.

She rolls her hips as she walks, ungainly at first, with her wings and new curves. Her fingers stay busy keeping her cunt distracted, but hunger cramps her belly.

The Donna's respectable bedroom is a bit of a mess, clothes scattered here and there, drawers and cupboards open. Looking back, at her well camouflaged prison, who knows what other secrets Casa Valentino keeps? Ramona falters then. Centuries of secrets. Overpowering the Donna physically could be easy, keeping the upper hand is another story.

"Piccola?"

Donna Valentino stands in a doorway that seemed like a seamless wall moments ago. She is draped from head to toe in hooded robes. She sounds amused, not angry, a mocking smile plays on her crimson lips, and for some reason that makes Ramona's blood boil.

"What's so funny!"

"Are you..." the amusement fades and the cruel eyes narrow. "... fucking yourself? When I expressly forbade you... and your jewellery?"

"You've kept me like a dog, bred me like a bitch with the wrong man's seed and all you can do is..."

"One more word girl. Just try me."

"Why are you being such a..."

The Donna makes a sweeping gesture with her left hand.

A force lifts Ramona clean off her feet with a white hot flash and she hits the dressing table with a crunch, rebounds, lands hard on her knees, searing pain flaring from her injuries.

She tastes blood, sees nothing but stars. For a time all she can hear is a high pitched whine, but gradually as her ears recover her own panicked sobs can be heard along with six or seven different Italian words that all mean idiot.

Ramona's scalp screams as her weight dangles from a handful of hair. The first image that comes into focus is Oblata crawling past, and Donna Valentino kicking the blindfolded thrall's rump spitefully as she flees. That's when Ramona's demon heart sees red.

A gout of the Donna's blood floods onto the carpet as Ramona swipes blindly behind her; with a horrified shriek her hair is free. Ramona's bloodied claws throw dark flecks of blood across the wall as she rounds on her tormentor and thrusts them gleefully into that unprepared belly, the squeals are music to the beast in her heart. Frenzied Ramona howls. That feeling of tearing into flesh is as exhilarating as the deepest cock in her hungry cunt.

In answer, the Donna's own transformation is near instant, and iron hard talons smash into Ramona's face.

Panic returns as Ramona's vision is obliterated and a second later, the white hot pain of lightening sears her body. The thunderclap that follows could be the last beat of her heart.

Rocking like a boat on water, Ramona hears her name called in anger from a misty far off shore.

"I know you can hear me, you arrogant little bitch. Open your eyes. Subito!"

I still have eyes? Ramona's muddled mind swims dizzily through concussion. Open them. Yes.

Back in the mirrored boudoir, hanging from mangled arms bound tight behind her. There is no pain in the limbs or twisted shoulders and that can't be good, everything else hurts.

The awful truth is rendered in glorious technicolour. Livid bruises flower across her body, her face is torn up, a gruesome Picasso of exposed crooked teeth and torn flesh. Her wings hang limp in their heavy chains like a broken umbrella, all the little bone fragments grate as she moves. There's a heavy steel band around her neck with a chain hanging off it. Her tail encircles her narrow waist, clipped in place with more metalwork. A shrill moan of horror escapes her fragile self control.

"That's right you little ass, you are fucked."

Donna Valentino did not escape unscathed of course. She is smoking a cigarette, gripping the long ivory stem of the holder between trembling fngers. Her ghastly belly wounds are covered, but the fight has weakened her.

"'The wrong man's seed'. Bah." The Donna sets the cigarette down carefully and approaches Ramona with a scowl of resentment. "Of course you'd be a connoisseur of semen. My hungry girl." The tremor fades from the slender hand as she reaches out to brush the hair off Ramona's battered face. "Look what you made me do." Was that a note of remorse?

Ramona keeps her terrified eyes on the Donna's, unsure what to expect, but the touch is gentle. She says nothing. Between her head pounding and her torn face, what can she say?

"I know you couldn't help it, cara mia. It's my fault alone. If I don't bind you well enough, how can I keep you safe? Eh?" A claw emerges from the Donna's fingertip and she catches Ramona's tear on the very point. "I will never ever make that mistake again, Piccola. I have learned my lesson."

The claw traces along the open facial wounds, the salt and irritation awaken the jagged nerves and Ramona flinches in pain.

"Now. There was no need to throw my collar on the floor. No need to mangle the gold I gave you." Another taloned hand rubs gently between Ramona's legs, heightening her awareness of the emptiness within. "You will learn your lesson, however long it takes."

The pain fades surprisingly quickly, the wounds and bruises become flawless skin again, but her arms stay twisted with no chance to heal. The price of raising a hand to Donna Valentino. Once the pain is gone, Ramona's empty mouth, cunt and arse begin to consume every waking thought.

She begs and pleads, but the Donna only laughs at her and leaves.

Ramona tries to count her fitful bursts of sleep, but loses track somewhere after a hundred.

She wonders if she'll ever see the outside of this room again.

She howls in anguish as days pass but she is given no semen, no-one comes to give even the lightest rub to relieve her frustrated clitoris.

The only company she has in this perverse nightmare is a dozen reflections of her body in bondage. Her luscious lips are full, an inviting dusky rose that matches her peaked nipples. Her tits have more than doubled in size since the first day the Donna pierced her wings, and her sexy arse is now more than a generous handful.

Ramona grimaces at her own reflection. Even calm, her teeth are nothing close to human any more. The long canines are perfectly aligned and bone white. They are more animal than demon, like a dog or a chimp. It's only when lust takes hold that the demonic maw bursts forth, her tongue, a hollow proboscis, all her teeth like knives. The lust consumes her for hours at a time until her exhaustion overcomes her, and in her dreams threads of human memory pull her back from the edge. She prays for mercy, dares to beg forgiveness from her wicked jailer.

When at last the door opens a tiny crack, Ramona's pleading begins anew, but it's not the Donna that answers her pathetic prayers.

As Oblata's reverent fingers split Ramona's cunt the young demon weeps in blessed relief. Clarity of thought leads quickly to suspicion.

"Does she know you're here?" Ramona whispers.

Oblata shakes her head. Those gorgeous deep blue eyes are full of their own need, their own hope. The tender touch is an imperfect connection. Ramona imagines the girl filling her, deeply, wantonly, but in its own way, that soft caress is exactly what's needed.

"What... what changed?" Ramona scrutinises the girl's face for any sign she is hiding something, or worse, maybe Oblata's not here at all, it could be the Donna herself.

"E... everything," the girl stammers, "and nothing."

Oblata reaches between her own legs and pulls out an oval piece of steel, highly polished on one face, rough on the other. It is slick with evidence of Oblata's arousal.

"The key!" Ramona squeaks.

"Y... yes." Oblata presses the odd little magnet against the nearest ring, the one imprisoning Ramona's lusty tail, and with a metallic ping the circlet springs open.

Tears fill Ramona's eyes.

"She'll kill us."

"Maestro Julius finally caved in and asked her for help, they're too busy to notice right now. This is the best chance I can give you, please..."

The chain keeping Ramona's left knee bent pings open next and she can do nothing but weep as liquid fire runs through her veins.

"My Domina. My Donna." Oblata breathes, soothing Ramona's cramped muscles with her soft little hand, brushing worshipful kisses all over Ramona's thigh.

"Ah fuck it burns!" Ramona's staccato protests fall on deaf ears as Oblata frees the other leg, all the while masturbating the demon's hungry cunt.

"It's all a game for them." Oblata says solemnly once Ramona's suffering fades. "All power and no heart, my Donna. Not like us."

Ramona's body and mind rest in the palm of this feverish woman's hand. Even as Oblata kneels to kiss Ramona's feet, the demon feels it. The woman is weaker than Ramona remembers, her face drawn with worry.

"Your soul." Ramona says weakly.

The bright blue eyes are lost for a moment, "How could I believe there was any such thing? Until now..."

Even the memory of that sweet nectar flowing from Oblata's breasts makes Ramona's mouth water.

"What if I go mad again?" Ramona says bleakly. "I'm so hungry, it's hopeless."

"I gathered offerings for you."

One lock at a time, Ramona is lightened, each shackle and crude ornament that falls is an irreversible step.

At last only her crippled arms remain, fixed in place by a jumble of ugly buckles and bands of metal. Donna Valentino bound her hurriedly and in anger, twisting the bones cruelly before fixing them in place. Will they stay like this forever?

Ramona presses her eyes shut tight, a familiar panic consuming her senses as her cunt is suddenly empty of Oblata's fingers. Instinctively her newly freed tail dives into the emptiness, the tip like an arrowhead, the dark shaft textured like snake skin.

Oblata brings the mechanism lower, allowing Ramona to kneel before unhooking the mess of restraints from the chandelier fixture. The bittersweet scent of come and musk drifts to Ramona as Oblata deftly unplugs herself.

"It's all for you now, everything."

The rim of Oblata's arse is puffy and pink, an open mouth begging for kisses. The offering that spills from it is like cream filling pouring between hungry lips, the taste, a dozen different flavours sparking on Ramona's rolling tongue. Despite the relentless use that hole has endured, the swollen tissue quivers with Ramona's every hungry lick and suck, Oblata moans her wanton appreciation as Ramona feasts.

The young demon feels her stomach contract rhythmically, gulping down the slick offerings with mindless enthusiasm. At last. This is all she needs, all she's ever wanted. Come drunk, she rolls aside, giggling as restraints clink beneath her ruined hands, tail feverishly thrusting to keep madness at bay.

Oblata moves behind and tears away the rough bonds until Ramona's arms are free.

"Look at the state of me." Ramona whimpers. The pale and twisted hands with their tiny pointed talons are hideous.

"No worse than either of them."

The familiar torture of sensation flooding back into Ramona's starved limbs has her screaming in wide eyed terror. Bones jostle and pull together, muscles shrink and fold back into place.

The thrall draws close, gathers Ramona belly to belly in her suffering, legs entwined, cheek to cheek. Oblata's injured fingers rub against Ramona's sex, curl gently around the shaft of her tail as it thrusts. Oblata's blood is drawn into Ramona's flesh as hungrily as semen, the echo of bloodlust furrows Ramona's brow. The girl's tears melt into Ramona's skin too, carrying compassion and hope alongside lust.

"If you stay like this, let them win, there'll be nothing left of you."

Of course the slave is right. Why else would Donna Valentino leave Ramona like this? When the demon takes over, her body, her womb, her cunt, the old witch will keep her enslaved forever.

"Forgive me," Oblata says, her soft lips half open. She kisses her way down Ramona's chest until her hot mouth envelopes the Demon's erect nipple, her tongue playing against the shrinking holes.

"Oh! Yes, suck me harder, bite me!"

The loving hands and questing lips make the healing magic bearable. Lean and strong, Ramona's newly restored arms still prick with energy as she returns the girl's affection.

Her wings feel lighter now the rings are gone, though the rivet piercings still pull her tough skin as Ramona stretches. Joints her Donna deliberately displaced click into place now she has room to move. All these horrors she has endured, no end in sight. In fact despite her submission, the bitch has continued to heighten this torture and bondage at every opportunity.

"She struck me down with a wave of her hand. And him, and his tattoos and his devil's bargain, what will he do to me if I beat Donna Valentino? To me and to our House?"

"I don't know," Oblata murmurs, "I'm no-one, nothing. If it wasn't for my dreams, if it wasn't for touching you, seeing you with my own eyes, I'd be down in the basement with the others. You changed me."

Ramona takes a firm hold of the girl's shoulders. Eye to eye the girl's breathing calms and her tears slow to nothing. "Where did you get the key?"

"It's not hard. The twelve carry them, our keepers have them. It's what they do to the ones they catch that stops people..."

"It must be a trap," Ramona says bitterly.

Oblata keeps her gorgeous blue eyes on Ramona's. "Who cares? Live with me, die with me, just don't send me away..."

"You said Donna Valentino asked this Maestro for help?"

"No... no... the other way around. Maestro Julius can't find Salvatore. Without him, he won't have... They all talk right over our heads like we're not even here, a lot of the girls don't know Latin, don't speak French or Italian. And even if they did they're too fucked to care."

"Except you."

"What? Me?" she says quietly. "It was just kinky sex, right? To pay our patrons for all the luxury my family has, the luxury I had until I came of age. I was good at it until I saw you for real, until I knew for sure. Now I can't eat, I can't sleep, I just need..."

"Me?" Ramona kisses Oblata gently on the mouth, even as her hands control the girl's body utterly, threatening her, bruising her.

"We'll never get another chance."

"To run away?"

"I've seen her kill six people. Only a matter of time for me."

"And him?"

"No different. I was so frightened of dying like that, I tried so hard..."

"Alright, it's... that's not really what I meant."

"What they do is ordinary, everyday power broking, deal making." Oblata sniffs heavily and looks away, shame clouding her beauty. "They talk about companies, stocks, elections, and they just live, I guess. Completely free to do as they fucking please like kings."

It sounds so absurd. Ramona can barely keep from laughing hysterically in Oblata's face. Demon blooded corruption in the halls of power, yes. But why here? Why bring tribute here from all over the world?

"Do as they please? If that were true, there would be no hiding in the shadows, no secrecy. God."

She relaxes her hold on Oblata's shoulders. Donna Valentino is scared, but it's not about Ramona, it's bigger than that. There was a plan brewing for years and this trouble with Salvatore has messed things up.

"I was supposed to be a lot more like Donna Valentino maybe? Less of a freak." Ramona laughs despite herself. "I swore I wouldn't run, or fight or complain and I really meant it, but it wasn't like when we promised each other, Oblata. You felt it, didn't you?"

"I feel it."

The woman's body is almost too thin, her small breasts less firm than Ramona remembers. Sweet soft honey tits.

Ramona sighs. "Our promise was deeper than words, and I didn't mean to hurt you but..."

"I'm scared."

"...you know what it means?"

The slave nods solemnly. "Unless I'm here with you, keeping my word, nothing else matters any more." She smiles sadly. "I made other vows, signed them in my own virgin blood. House Valentino, House Grimaldi, House Braganza, those monsters lorded it over me like they owned my soul, you know? They're deluding themselves. They act the part but you're the real deal."

"Alright." Ramona stands shakily. "Alright then." Somehow this place is going to have to be more than a prison. Donna Valentino is going to have to be more than a thorn in her side. "You want to help me. They can't keep seeing me as an animal that needs chaining up, she thinks I can't control myself. Find me some clothes. I know it doesn't seem important but it is."

"Yes Donna Ramona."

"Hah!" Ramona sits on the end of the vast bed, savouring the pressure on her stuffed cunt. Just touching the silk sheets, feeling the soft carpet underfoot, is grounding. She had lost control, not when Donna Valentino had struck her down, but when the nasty cow had kicked Oblata. The thrall combs through the cupboards and drawers but the clothes in here are costumes and props, lacy flimsy whore's clothes. She chooses a floor length sheer gown of gossamer metallic gold silk. Strategic sequins cover nipples and cunt, like victorian fig leaves painted on a goddess. Oblata leaves the zip open up most of the back, only fastening the tiny hook at the high neckline.

"Where's the band that was around my neck?"

"Here." Oblata brings it and holds it out to her mistress.

Ramona covers the thrall's hands with hers. "I want you to put it on me."

"But Donna, that's..." Oblata stammers.

"I need you to."

"Of course I will do as you ask."

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"I guess I do," Oblata says a little awkwardly.

"I touched you. You bit down on my claw, and I rubbed you like this." Ramona curves her tail underneath so the sequins on the dress rub against Oblata's damp vulva. "You held my hand, I'll never forget that. You tried to comfort me."

The weight of the steel band comes to rest on Ramona's collar bones, the chain falling between her breasts.

"Make it a sign of our words to each other." Oblata kisses Ramona's sensitive throat. There's a quiet snap as the thrall fastens it and moulds her body posessively against Ramona's. Her thighs drift further apart as Ramona's tail frigs her.

A knot of hunger tightens in Ramona's core. Semen. Blood. Tears. All of it. The very flesh of men. Yes, Donna Valentino's words haunt her, there are those that see men as nothing more than meat.

"I'm still so hungry."

"Oh... but by the time I come back, the Donna will..."

"You're not going anywhere. I need you here with me."

Oblata's open arms encircle Ramona's slender waist. She explores the sensitive folds beneath her lover's wings with her gentle touch. She brushes her lips against the shell of Ramona's ear, and finally offers her mouth to her mistress for the deepest of kisses. Fear seasons their fluids as Oblata meets inhuman fangs with her soft tongue, but she doesn't shy away.

Ramona must pull away breathless as deep hunger stirs.

"Enough Oblata, don't tempt me. Help me with these things now."

The thrall sits beside her, eager to please. It takes much longer to pick the rivets out of her wings than it did to place them.

The Donna was right to be afraid. Ramona could storm out into the town, feed from anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path, and shred Donna Valentino's smug face to ribbons.

The beast within is a territorial, violent fool. Why should Donna Valentino's be any different? Ramona is her possession. Protest seemed to amuse the dominant bitch at first, but now she tolerates no challenge to her authority.

Simple things are helping. Perfuming her skin, rouging her cheeks and lips, luxuriating in the feel of silk stockings unrolling onto her shapely calves. The warmth of Oblata's worshipful kisses on the nape of her neck.