Innocence Lost Ch. 04-05

Azlorik climbed upon the bed, and knelt between her legs. He ran his hands over her body. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but it caused her fiery skin to tingle. She whimpered, twisting beneath him as he dragged his nails down her ribs, over her hips and to her knees. Then he slid slowly up her inner thighs, massaging her muscles firmly. He pushed two of his fingers inside of her wet tunnel, driving them deeply into her. She pulled at her bonds as her body shook. Gasping for breath, her body convulsed, and she let out a whimpering groan. She didn't know how much more she could take without losing her mind.

He pulled his fingers from her velvet sex, pausing to lick her taste from them as she arched her back and writhed spasmodically. Every fiber of her being felt like it was on fire and she was oh so ready to explode. He grinned, still watching her closely. "Had enough yet, slave," he teased and drummed his fingers across her engorged clit. She hissed at him, cursing him for the torment he was putting her through. "Tsk, tsk, little one. You should be thanking me."

Then he covered her body completely with his, sliding the heat of his cock up and down her cleft. He bucked his hips, letting the tip graze her clit and press against her slit. She moaned and arched into him. He captured her lips, kissing her hard before he shoved inside of her wet channel with one quick thrust. Mistale cried out as he stretched her. She twisted under him, trying to get away from his invasion. Once he'd buried himself to the hilt inside of her velvet tunnel, he halted for a moment, stopping to feel how her tight wet walls gripped him in a near stranglehold. He hissed from the pleasure of it before sharply nipping her pointy ear. He made sure to mark her as he rode her harder, slamming deeper in her channel. She screamed and bucked beneath him, her hips twisting away from him.

"Your pain excites me," he whispered breathlessly. "The sound of your screams make me harder. Your pale flesh still disgusts me, but someday soon I'll beat you enough to turn your flesh black from the bruises." He crushed her to him, kissing her viciously, slamming himself deeper and harder into her. He threw his head back, knowing he would soon cum. He moved his hands to her waist while he pummeling into her urgently. She screamed again, her wet walls clenching tight to accept his forceful thrusts. With a near roar, Azlorik dug his fingernails even deeper into her hips, gripping her painfully. Mistale thrashed about, deliriously screaming while he emptied his seed within her. He collapsed upon her trembling body, nuzzling his face in her neck, biting her hard until he could taste her blood.

Then Azlorik quickly pulled away and bounded off the bed. He poured some water into a shallow bowl and dipped in a scrap of cloth. He washed himself thoroughly, cleansing away the stench of sex and other musky scents. Then he dressed himself, watching Mistale. He took the few steps toward the bed, stopping at the end of it. His eyes were still fixed upon her, admiring his handiwork that striped her skin. He smiled widely before picking up the two floggers and returning them to their place upon the whipping post.

"Are you ready to get up, slave?" Azlorik murmured, grasping the cords that kept her bound.

Mistale opened her eyes, meeting his automatically. "Yes, Master."

He removed the cords from her wrists and ankles, and allowed her to get up. She cried out as she set her feet on the floor, the tender soles smarting from the lashes he'd placed upon them. A mischievous grin split his face as he watched her. "Tesso uns'aa lu'oh bwael ol zhahus (Tell me how good it was)? Your punishment? Xunus ol naut satiir bronretla (Did it not feel wonderful)?"

Mistale glared at him, fury flooding her face. "NO!"

He shook his head, making a small clucking noise with his tongue. "I've warned you about that fire of yours. Have a care, my slave. I might think you want more of it and I would be delighted to dispense it."

Mistale shivered uncontrollably, lowering her eyes. She walked over to him, kneeling before him. "Master?"

"Yes, slave?"

"Forgive this waela jalil (foolish female) for being disobedient. Master does what is best for slave."

Azlorik patted her head none too gently, admiring how she looked on her knees before him. A thought came to mind and he knew he would have to pursue it later. "Remember that, slave," he gripped her chin and pulled her eyes up to meet his. "I must go now. I have things to do. You have forced me to delay them long enough with your disobedience. I shall return later. You may have this time to do whatever you like, as long as you remain confined to these few rooms. Read if you'd like. I expect a proper greeting when I return."

Azlorik drew his hand away, extended it and clipped her across the mouth. He watched, grinning, as she sprawled upon the floor. Then he stepped over her, treading upon the ends of her long hair, and made his way to the door. Mistale yelped, but remained on the floor until he was gone.