tagNonConsent/ReluctanceHell Hath No Fury

Hell Hath No Fury

byLord DragonsWing©

She attacked me like a Valkrye in blood heat. Her dark eyes sparkling from the ectasy of my pain. She stood there, sweat dripping off her erect nipples. Her smile of self-satisfaction mocking my howls of pain.

I hung against the wall. The shackles holding my slim body from collapsing. Tears were gone. The pain had emptied them days ago. Welts covered welts from days past. The blood rushing to their surfaces. Yet I lived. And looking down on me smiling, was the woman who had caused my endless nightmare.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead with a delicate gloved hand, she reached down and stroked my thighs with the handle of her whip. Flinching at her touch, I waited for the next round of torture. Bending down, she raises my chin so I look into her dark eyes. Her red lips smile at me. Not seductively, not leering. But a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"So, Senor. You winch at my touch now, Yes?"

Looking into those eyes, so deep with their pain, I refuse to speak. My chin plunges into my chest as she drops it from her grip. Suddenly, the lash of her whip smacks across my back. New pain mixes with the old. Blood mixes with the sweat. I howl at the lashing. My lungs suck in the dank, humid air. My body limp in the shackles, hangs there. My consciousness on the edge of darkness. My bloodshot eyes stare at the concrete floor. Counting the drops of sweat dripping from my face, I focus on how I got here.

Drug deal gone bad. There is no other explanation. But how the fuck was I to know the guy I was doing business with was working through the dictator of this piss ant country. Alll I had to do was accept the price offered. Even if it meant my profit was a few hundred grand less. At least I wouldn't of been in this god forsaken place having the shit beat out of me by some bitch with a fetish.

Hearing her heels march across the floor, I ready my mind for the next lashing. Stopping in front of me, she jerks my head up by my hair. Staring at her thong covered crotch, the beads of sweat glistening on her tanned thighs, I gasp pain.

"You are my first American to have Senor. I must admit, you are quite a challenge."

Releasing my hair, she strolls over to wooden chair sitting in front of me. Licking my dry, chapped lips I attempt to speak.

"Wha...What are your plans for me?"

The warm air burns my parched throat as I lift my head to stare at her.

"Why to kill you of course. Do you think you can name the price of your shipment to my husband and just walk away when he doesn't agree?"

"Your husband?"

Sitting on the chair, her legs crossed, she raises her head from studying the whip.

"Yes, my husband. The Emperor. Do you think you can, how do you Americans say it? Play hardball? With him?"

Reality strikes me harder than the lashes of her whip. Realizing my sudden understanding, she grins at me.

"Oh, you did not know I was the wife of the Emperor? What did you think? That I was one of his demon mistresses?"

Looking at me and laughing, her white teeth flash in the brightly lit room.

"My husband has mistresses yes. As I have lovers. But when he wants a job done quietly, I am the one who does it. You see Mr. Taylor. We rule with an iron fist. Most of the world knows that. But they need our oil. So, they turn the other cheek as you say."

Rising from her chair, she lets the length of the whip drag behind her. Her long legs, wrapped in thigh high leather boots move with the grace of a tiger ready for it's next meal.

"You see, Mr. Taylor. My husband and I are partners. We have no love for each other. Just for the power of ruling this country. At a young age in the University, we realized how we could run this country and what we had to do. Together we're the perfect couple to the peasants who support us. The world sees us as tolerable. But they won't disturb us as long as we pump them their oil."

Standing over me, looking down into my sweat drenched face, she continues to smile.

"Of course, you know our other resource Mr. Taylor. Cocaine. And that belongs exclusively to my husband and I in this country. Anyone who smuggles drugs to your country pays my husband and I. If they don't, well we exterminate them for the American press to show how we're fighting your drug wars."

Leaning down, her face fills my vision. Her black hair flowing over her shoulders as a scent of jasmine mixes with her sweat.

"But you Mr. Taylor, present another problem. You know our situation and you tried to take advantage. For that, you are mine to do with as I please until I kill you. You danced with the Devil and now you must pay the price."

Looking into those dark eyes I could see the hell that lay before me. Torture and endless pain with no escape. Time without end until I left this life. A life I created. A life that she was going to end.

My chin drops to my chest. All hope erased with her final words. I'm paying the price.

Lifting my chin with the handle of her whip, the Empress slaps me across the face. Blood, my blood, smears her black gloves.

"You do not lower your head to me Mr. Taylor. Do you understand? I am going to kill you eventually. But you may live for a few more days if you do as I say and please me. And it maybe less painful."

Staring blankly at her face, all hopes of life gone, I pray for days with less pain.

Ripping off her black thong, the Empress smiles down at me.

"Do you get my meaning Mr. Taylor?"

Lowering my eyes to her shaved pussy, I lick my dry lips.


Grabbing a handfull of my scalp, the Empress shoves my face into her pussy. The smell of her juices surround my nostrils. My chapped lips, dry from lack of water, absorb the Empress's moisture. My tongue begins to lap at the wetness. Drinking in her juices, the air no longer burns my throat.

Throwing back her head, the Empress moans.

"Yesssss, Mr. Taylor. That is what I mean."

Dropping her whip, the Empress reaches down and spreads her labia with her gloved hand. My wrist struggle against the shackles to get closer to the moisture. My tongue flicks in and out of her shaved pussy, drinking every drop of moisture. Watching her clit swell, the sweet dew clinging, I move my tongue to her swollen clitoris. Moaning from pleasure, the Empress grinds her hips into my face, rubbing her juices into my dried skin. Deeper my tongue probes, not wanting to miss a drop of the nectar.

Releasing her swollen labia, the Empress grabs the back of my head and forces my tongue deeper inside her. My tongue moves furiously, fresh juices, new energy. I lick faster and harder. Drinking her water, moving her to fill my mouth with her sweet moisture. Bucking and moaning against my face, I feel her muscles tighten around my tongue. Forcing my tongue between the tight muscles of her pussy, I search out the water inside her.

Suddenly, without warning, she explodes in my mouth. Filling my throat with the warm life giving wetness. My mouth opens to accept her liquids. Swallowing, my tongue moves faster in and out of her pussy. Lapping her juices into my mouth, I drink deeply of her cum.

Feeling her body shudder under my tongue, the Empress backs away. My tongue still searching the air for her wet pussy as she stands there, purring in satisfaction.

"Yessss, Mr. Taylor. You are going to do fine. I have not had an orgasm like that in along time. I'm glad you like the way I taste. Tomorrow I'll let you eat my pussy again. Then, you may be allowed to fuck me. I want to feel how an American cock cums inside me."

Moving over to the wall, the Empress grabs a ladle of water. Holding my head up I smile at her. My mouth already damp from her liquids. I drink from the ladle, gulping the clean water down.

Staring at her dripping pussy, I imagine all the water she has waiting for me to drink.

Throwing back her head and laughing, the Empress smiles at my stare.

"Don't you worry my little pet. You may taste me tomorrow."

I watch the Empress turn and head for the door. Her heels clicking across the floor. Licking my lips, I watch her cum running down her thighs.

Yes, tomorrow. I will drink again. And you will cum again. And you will let me live another day. And another. Days add up to weeks, weeks to months. And I shall drink each day from her fountain. Then I will live.

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