Meridsya's Pet 01: Trapped

She spread her hands. "Those are your choices. I must tell you that if you turn me down but choose to seek someone more to your liking, you may not find someone who finds you to theirs. In which case, you will need to go to a brothel or to your own kind."

I felt light-headed by this point. I could follow everything she said but I felt my head was bursting with new information, and disbelief at what I was being offered. At the fact it was an offer.

"How many of us are there? We are immortal but you needed to find me? Do you get bored and discard your ... pet? Are these communities made up of excess stock left with no choice?"

Her eyes glinted dangerously. "I have more honour than that. I ensure that if a pet leaves me or I tire of them, they find a good position. No. Human communities are made up of those of you who no longer wish to indulge their desires with us. Who feel exploited, or lose the taste for that which brought them here. No, there is no 'excess stock'. You humans simply do not last. You might be potentially immortal, but you aren't in practice. Your kind is far, far more likely than us to reach a point of losing desire and reaching some sort of state of such lack of care that you dissolve. We don't know why, but it is another reason you are generally held in contempt. Some do not reach 50 years here, some very few pass two centuries.

"And yes, I have had many pets over the years. Sometimes they moved on of their own accord, sometimes I grew bored of them. There is always a shortage of available pets for those of us who wish to keep one. We need fresh flesh. But I also spread the net you walked into because novelty is wonderful! I have been watching your kind for centuries, and I can assure you that although there have always been people who welcomed what I could offer them, and accepted this deal with delight, I am loving what your society has been doing!"

"There are elements we're happy with, too," I said, straight-faced.

I had to take a deep breath. I wondered what would happen if I actively rebelled, if I refused to cooperate, to "welcome with open mouth", as she put it. But my raging desire was making it hard to concentrate on my sense of injustice.

"Very well, Mistress. What are the rules?"

She smirked gloatingly. I couldn't describe her expression any other way.

"You stay here, with me. You will have full run of my rooms. I have more space than you might imagine. Space in this universe does not follow the rules you are used to. We can step out my front door and walk five minutes to a different weather system. I believe you will be comfortable here. You have access to anything that is mine. I will supply you with clothes, and you can dress how you choose."

I had a cynical idea about what the choice would be.

"I will also supply you with food. Coffee. Other drinks, should you wish them. There is no alcohol here as there is no caffeine. You may think you are fun drunk, but you are not, so we have never bothered copying it. However, it is important for you to realise that humans are not well regarded by our society. If I have visitors, I will instruct you how to dress and how to behave, and I will require you to be subservient and submissive. The same if I take you to visit anyone else. I will give you play dates with other humans, I believe in giving my pets enrichment and variety. You may spend that time fucking if you like, humans usually do. It's your time. Sometimes, I may be asked if someone can borrow you. I will ask you first. I have no interest in seeing you hurt or traumatised or no longer trusting me. I may even ask if you'd enjoy being used as a bargaining piece. Do you think you'd like being borrowed by other succubi, incubi even? They have vastly different skills and predilections to me," Meridsya asked with a smirk.

Loaned out as a sex toy? Passed around like property? On the other hand: experiencing different fetishes?

"I might," I managed to say. I didn't sound convincing in my prevarication even to me.

She gave me a smirk that said she knew exactly how much I might want that. She almost certainly did.

"Very well, then. Any further questions?"

I shook my head. "No, Mistress." I couldn't deny that accepting this, calling an immortal, powerful succubus Mistress, didn't come without a pulse of guilty, dirty pleasure. Maybe I was more sub than I had realised.

"Excellent." Her voice was more syrupy than treacle. "The way you say 'Mistress' pleases me, my pet."

Pet. I felt a moment of depression. Yes she wanted me to be happy so I would be more enjoyable for her, but I would be her pet. Subservient in every way, powerless next to her and useful only as long as I was of interest to her.

"Lucas," she said.

I looked up in surprise, saw her expression seem a little more caring than I had seen it before, and realised with a jolt that she was reading me. Of course she was. If she could read my pain, my pleasure, my preferences, my desires, why wouldn't she be? She had sensed my depression.

"Come here, my dear boy," she said.

That threw me. That sounded compassionate. But, perhaps traitorously, it worked to make me feel better.

I moved to stand. At her slight gesture, I knelt in front of her as she sat up, between her spread knees. She leaned forwards, took my chin tenderly in one hand, and kissed me softly.

It was a tender kiss. Possibly even loving. If she was deliberately manipulating me with sociopathic calculation, she was exceptionally good at it. I had no way of knowing if she had emotions as I understood them or if it had all been a game. I wondered if it mattered.

She pulled back slightly as my head slowly spun. "Will you be my pet for a year, to have and to fuck, to toy with and indulge?" Her long fingers stroked through my long hair, tickling the back of my head.

I shivered. "Yes, Mistress," I whispered. My throat felt dry. A small, detached part of my mind wondered how that was even possible. How I could possibly have a dry mouth when I didn't have proper physiology. Expectation, I supposed.

She smiled. Partly tender, mostly gloating and largely hungry. "Good."

She sat back in the chair, sprawling, and flicked the bottom of her robe apart without, for whatever reason, taking the robe off entirely. "Undress. Then show me."

I untied the robe with a feeling of relief as the pressure came off my cock, pulled it open and flicked it behind me as it slid down my arms.

Then I bent forward. As I reached for her red thighs, I felt my arms pulled behind me until my elbows were together.

I had played this game before, with women found at club nights. Bound and ordered to serve. I always enjoyed it because I'm proud of my skills and the situation was an enjoyable game to play. But this was no game. It was real and the physical reminder of her control over me excited submissive parts of myself I hadn't realised were that excitable.

Then I felt ropes entwine my arms from elbows to wrists, lacing themselves together into an inescapably snug but not dangerously tight armbinder that felt like a diamond weave. My breath caught in my throat. I've always loved shibari, since long before I ever had the chance to experience it with the odd partner found at crossover nights (I had been lying to Seiren when I said I had never had the opportunity). I love the look, the binding, and the way the rope is more specific than things like armbinders and more organic than cuffs. I love partial restrictions.

I tested my arms. Against the ropes, not the formless restriction of Meridsya's power, I felt freer. A more definite sense of how I was being restricted.

I opened my mouth and leaned down.

Without the head-swimming lust that had driven me when Meridsya first took me, I could pay a little more attention to what I was doing, to the tastes and sensations of it.

Despite her demonic appearance, she tasted just as I remembered. She felt the same. Almost natural, but not quite. Vulva lips soft, not overt but definitely there, clitoris a hard nub not uncommonly large. Sharp taste, heady and head-spinning, familiar but with spiciness on top of how human women tasted.

I could easily lose myself in tasting that, trying to work out what the tastes were. I was pretty certain that Meridsya had deliberately fine-tuned how her vaginal secretions tasted. I mean, I would absolutely change how my come and precum tasted, and make them addictive and aphrodisiacal.

I'm not sure Meridsya would have appreciated me losing track of time while licking her, but she seemed to appreciate what I was doing regardless. A remaining rational part of my mind wondered if she was deliberately being responsive to feed my fantasy, but it was shouted down by the rest of me, which didn't care.

She took her time but definitely came faster than most women I've been with. Some have come faster when licking wasn't their first orgasm. But none have come faster from a standing start.

I was all set to continue licking until she told me to stop. Until she was tired of coming.

But she seized my hair and pulled my head up painfully.

Then she leaned forwards slowly, moving with apparent disregard for gravity, pushing me back and controlling me via her grip on my hair until I was kneeling upright but arched backwards -- a position that is one of the most erotic in bondage.

I relaxed, head swimming with arousal, and relished in the sensation of being controlled so easily.

"Good boy," Meridsya purred. "Such a good boy."

I felt long, talon-like fingernails trail down my face, then my neck, onto my chest.

My cock was throbbing with every beat of my heart. I was used to being erect in similar situations, but never so intensely.

Without warning, she pinched my right nipple sharply between two fingernails. I gasped in shock, but I also felt it in my cock.

"So, you're used to having these pierced?" she asked, stroking it gently and maddeningly with her fingertip.

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered.

"Would you wear a chain between them for me?"

"Yes, Mistress!"

"Hmmm. We'll come back to that, later."

She took my nipple between thumb and finger and squeezed just enough to ensure a secure grip, then pulled upwards. "Up!"

I scrambled to my feet, desperately following my nipple, as Meridsya rose smoothly without tugging until we were standing at the same time.

Between my hair and my nipple, she controlled me backwards as my feet scrambled to keep up with my body, until my chair hit the back of my legs and I crashed backwards, thankfully just as she let go with both hands.

I sprawled, unable to control my fall and intensely grateful the chair was so comfortable, as Meridsya towered above me, still wearing her robe, with had now fallen back closed and almost, from my angle, was adequate as clothing.

"I think you deserve a reward," she said.

One hoofed foot kicked my knees apart before she sank to her knees in front of the chair.

As she knelt between my knees, she put her hands on my thighs, pressing my legs outwards against the chair's arms. Her strength was so casually absolute that it was almost frightening.

My breath caught in my throat as she leaned forwards, sparkling eyes staring into mine. Her tongue lashed out of her throat at least a foot, curled around my cock where it lay hard against my belly, and lifted it.

She swallowed my entire length in one smooth movement, her mouth warm and wet, then her throat tightened enough to make me gasp with a shuddering breath.

She took her time fellating me. I was honestly surprised I didn't come quickly, after being hard for so long. Inside her throat, which was hot and wet and ribbed and tight and squeezing my cock head mercilessly, I should have come quickly.

But I discovered that I had more self-control than I had previously. I was able to will myself to relax while holding my ejaculation in check, enjoying every second and every movement as her lips, tongue and throat stroked me.

I felt her tongue being a bed for my shaft, I felt it rub gently underneath my glans, I felt it become long and thin and slide around my shaft in a spiral that continued until it became a slowly constricting, thoroughly lubricated tunnel she forced my cock through.

I felt her throat shiver around my head, I felt it part to accept me. I felt her make swallowing motions, pulsing around the end of my shaft and head.

I couldn't stay watching. My head rolled back. I shivered and tried to distract myself, but I was barely in control of my own body.

Her fellating was skilled and maddening. I had been sucked by women who fucked me energetically with their throat and by women who showed artistry the way I tried to go down on them, and Meridsya put all of them to shame. She played with my reactions until I knew I was entirely at her mercy, that the only reason I hadn't yet come, no matter how much self-control I had, was that she hadn't wanted me to yet.

When she decided she did want me to, it was obvious. She suddenly switched from her slow, slightly arhythmic sucking and stroking that played with the full length of my cock, to a targeted movement over just the head.

I arched in the chair, I cried out even before I came and then I shouted as an explosion went off behind my eyes and my body thrashed completely out of my control, my hips desperately bucking wildly, fucking Meridsya's throat, as I came like a torrent. I spurted at least five times until my back was arched almost painfully, my mouth was gaping open and I was just shuddering.

I finally collapsed, gasping for breath.

My head spun. I couldn't have sat upright to save my life. I felt the world reel drunkenly around me. All I could do was stare at the ceiling as it warped in my vision. It felt like how a really orgasmic woman looked when they came.

And I was still buried in her throat. I didn't even realise until she started to move again, smoothly and maddeningly.

I tried to grab at her head, to push her away while trying to retreat further back into the chair, forgetting for a moment that my arms were still bound. It was more an instinctive reaction than anything else. Fear of what that stimulation would feel like after coming so hard and so much.

Her hands pressed against my thighs, holding me in the chair, able only to sit up and barely feeling the strength for that.

I realised, dimly, that Meridsya had relaxed her hands on me when I came. Had allowed me to fuck her throat violently in the throes of my orgasm. That was quite some showing off.

I managed to will myself to relax. The stimulation wasn't an overload. It was intense but Meridsya was moving smoothly and softly and wasn't applying the sort of pressure that might have had me howling.

Instead, pressure built up inside me again, slowly but inexorably and entirely despite anything I might have tried to do to resist.

When my second orgasm approached, the pressure became a searing, overwhelming sensation that wasn't quite the pain of overstimulation but felt like my cock was about to rupture.

She didn't change her rhythm or her movements at all, simply maintained her slow and smooth pace, varying how deep her mouth and throat stroked me until I couldn't resist any more.

I cried out and arched, lifting my hips off the chair as her hands let me, thrusting into her mouth, but for a second, or several seconds, or possibly a few minutes, I wasn't aware of anything except the explosion as I came, an explosion I felt behind my eyes and in every cell of my body.

I didn't black out, I was just overwhelmed, so when I stopped spurting, other sensations rushed back, beginning with my gasping for air and sweat running down my face.

And my cock still sheathed snugly, warmly and wetly in Meridsya's throat.

With an effort, I rolled my head over to look down.

With her nose just touching my belly, Meridsya was looking up at me again.

I went rigid, my breath catching in my throat as my body's reaction to the sensation went far beyond the actual pleasure of it.

I dared not move. I hardly dared breathe. I was still hard!

As I stared down at Meridsya in shock, she began moving again, her eyes amused and taunting.

She made me come three more times, making me wait a torturous amount of time for each one as I screamed and begged and didn't grow any less hard, or start hurting from coming too much. I didn't know how I could have so much come in me. I couldn't. Not if I was still human, in the world I was used to.

She played with me, making me skim along just beneath the threshold of orgasm or making me approach it and then recede. She somehow managed to stimulate every part of my shaft except the head. She pulled me almost out of her mouth to caress my head with her tongue. She teased me with her teeth, she teased me with a tongue that changed shape, she taunted me with the threat of a suddenly pointed tongue teasing inside me as a sound.

When she finally stopped, I was broken.

I had started off believing I had self-control. But Meridsya had played me so exquisitely she had decided what I felt and precisely when I came and made sure I knew that. She had so comprehensively demonstrated she was my Mistress in every sense of the term that after my fourth ejaculation, I just lay there gasping in defeat without even any expectation good or bad, just waiting at her whim.

I stopped trying to resist, control myself, or even enjoy. I just let go in the face of the exquisite, intense pleasure she was giving me and accepted it.

After that fifth time, when she moved it was to pull off me.

It took me a second to even realise that, but the cold air on my wet cock helped me to focus a little bit.

I wondered dimly if she was going to ride me. I didn't care. I was hers to do with as she wished.

Instead, she curled up in my lap, a much taller woman than any who had done that before but somehow she managed it, leaning against me and gently cradling my head against one pillowy breast.

"My sweet boy," she whispered. "You're mine. Your body is mine. It's my toy to play with, and I can do anything with it. I'll give you every fantasy you've ever had, but I'll do it my way. You understand that now, don't you? But I'll take care of you. I'll never hurt you." She giggled. "Unless it's play you want. Dear, sweet boy."

The words washed over me and I accepted every one of them.

After what she had put me through, my brain was convinced I was utterly exhausted even if there was, as she said, no exhaustion in her world. I let her cradle my head and caress my hair and the world began to move smoothly from the wavy distortion caused by mind-splitting orgasms into the black whirlpool of sleep. I had forgotten my arms were bound behind me. It didn't matter. They didn't hurt.

"Sweet boy my plaything," she whispered in my ear. The words followed me down into sleep, burrowed through my consciousness into my unconsciousness, and settled into my dreams.