My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 04

Wait. For all he knew, they wouldn't be having sex, and on the other side of this barrier were a dozen awaiting Ordo Dracul, ready to interrogate him. Maybe Antoinette would have him tied upside down, naked, while her fellow dragons poked and prodded him, to see what made him tick? Wouldn't that be a fun 'surprise'.

Once he stepped through the barrier and into the next room, he gasped.

He raised his gaze, and looked over the grand room before him. This room, he must have seen this room before? The throne room in Conan the Barbarian, maybe? Or, maybe a throne room in Game of Thrones? No. Maybe... a throne room in some fantasy book he read? It was something... beautiful, and scary as all fucking hell.

Far in the distance, was a throne, and Antoinette sat in it. He wanted to look at her, to see what she was wearing, what she was doing, but his eyes drifted around the enormous room, caught in the flowing blue light. A thousand people could stand in the grand chamber, if pushed in to the shoulder. It was tall too, maybe twenty feet high, and silk ropes and sheets connected points of the ceiling with hanging curves of the lustrous blue. Beauty, against the dark of the dangling chains by the pillars. Such a large room, so deep underground, needed pillars of course, and colossal pillars of the black marble lined the room, with a few more toward the center. Decorations dangled from the pillars, black bone, and as he approached one, he gulped at the sight of expertly crafted black skulls dangling from the chains. Dozens of them.

The braziers of metal skulls lined the enormous walls, well out of the way and distant from the queen sitting upon her throne. They were too far to provide much light, but something sat in the center of the room that did the job instead. A statue, a classic Grim Reaper statue, a skeleton with a cloak over its head and body, the robe covering its legs and the statue platform it stood upon. Hidden inside the cloak, a powerful blue light, the same eerie ghostly light, burst from the reaper's exposed chest and face, bathing the room in a more consistent, powerful glow.

There were more statues too, standing between the braziers by the walls. Cloaked figures with ghastly claws poking out from long, heavy, hanging sleeves. It all gleamed with the ghostly blue glow, black metal polished to a shine.

If a necromancer had a throne room, this is what it'd look like.

Eyes enchanted by the beautiful, terrifying display of art and death, he almost didn't notice the moans. He walked — crept, really — toward the noise, slipping past the enormous Reaper statue, and headed toward the throne. There were two bodies before the colossal chair, upon a mountain of the same navy silk that dangled from everywhere, along with dozens of black pillows. Surrounding the mountain of silk were dark skeleton hands, large, jutting from the black marble of the floor, and all facing inward with palms open, fingers up, to catch and keep the blankets from spilling outward. A bed of softness, trapped by hands of black death.

Within the center of the mountain of silk, was a table, an altar really, something topped with black leather, and with a base of black bone and skulls. Uh oh.

The pile of softness sat before the throne, maybe teen feet away, and Ashley and Julee were within it, beside the altar, half covered in the silk waves. The two creatures were naked as well, with their legs locked, smooth slits rubbing against each other, while the two of them were leaning back, hands to the sheets. Closer now, he could smell the sex, the arousal, and he groaned quietly as he watched them shiver and mewl as they rubbed on each other. From the sounds, the sights, and the smell of sexuality, he could tell they'd been enjoying each other for a while already.

Both of them were wearing black collars, and the collars were attached to leashes. Metal, chain-link leashes, polished smooth and thin, but metal nonetheless, and the chains ran along the blankets, over the strange metal hands that surrounded the two ghouls, up the three steps of the throne, and into Antoinette's hand. The throne she sat upon, black metal with black leather cushions, displayed a host of obsidian, shining, metal bones, and a dozen skulls, each looking as if they had come from a vampire, each with a set of fangs. The chairs of the arm looked like skeleton arms, but for a skeleton of titanic proportions, as if she sat upon the corpse of a giant.

He looked at her, and dropped his jaw. Bathed in the deathly blue light, his eyes froze on her, her red gaze disappearing in the blue light as onyx, while her hair emphasized the blue to an almost pale glow. Her free hand was between her spread thighs, and gently caressing her clitoris, as she smiled at him. She looked like a sorceress, and what she was wearing sealed the image, seared it into his eyes and mind.

Upon her head, she wore a metal skull that was set to cover the top of her forehead and much of her hair, its lack of jaw exposing her sharp but seductive face. It had fangs, long, and they came down over her forehead, securing the black metal to her head like clasps. For earrings she wore tiny black skulls, dangling from equally tiny chains. Around her neck she wore a tight necklace, something wide and tall, something that fit the contours of her neck, the top of her shoulders, and it poked down onto her sternum. Little bone shapes were carved into its body, and as he stared at it, he realized it was black leather, adorned with black metal designs. A neck corset.

Each bicep held a circlet, an arm guard, the same sort of design as her neck corset, wide, black leather covered in more black metal, this time with an obsidian skull face compressed to the fabric, with blue, glowing eyes. Blue stone eyes, maybe? Her gauntlets were the same, a black, metal skull face upon each hand and wrist, each with glowing blue stone eyes, and each with fangs.

She wore an underbust corset, and he gulped as he stared at it, at how it pulled her already slim waist into a tight, absurd hourglass figure. The black leather was covered in black metal as well, but instead of displaying a scary vampire-esque skull, it showed fingers, as if two large, black skeleton hands were clutching her waist from behind, into impossibly small confines.

Her breasts were nude, except, another set of enormous, black skeleton fingers reached up from her corset, and clutched each breast tight, four fingers each. Her nipples were exposed, sitting between the second and third skeleton finger of each hand, and he groaned as he stared at how the strange hands pressed her breasts up and together. So much cleavage, and he found his eyes locked onto it, on them, as it was obvious the metal fingers were clutching her breasts tightly.

A set of skeleton hands for her waist, and another for her breasts, as if multiple entities of death loomed behind her. God damn.

He would have said something, maybe something like 'that can't be comfortable', but his eyes fell lower, and he melted. She wasn't wearing any underwear, her wide hips and delicious thighs completely nude. Her boots covered her feet up to the knee, solid metal, knee guards showing another set of the spooky vampire skulls of black, blue stone eyes. Underneath the boots, and halfway up her thighs, was more of that black leather, pinching her thighs tightly to emphasize their curvy, toned shape. With her thighs spread, she was leaning back into the throne like a comfortable queen, and she continued to gently massage her clitoris as her eyes shifted away from the two ghouls having sex, to him.

"My love," she said. "My little Ventrue."

"... A... Antoinette." He looked at her, then at the ghouls, back to her, then back to her ghouls. Ashley and Julee, mewling and whimpering, managed only glimpses at him, as they brought themselves to orgasm. He was hard in seconds. "W-What is all this?"

"Most of this is the artwork of a man named Farner Temperman. Dead now, alas. Had I known of his work when he was younger, I may have sired him, to save his artistic genius." She jingled the chains in her hand, and the two ghouls unhooked their legs, hopped up, and came up to the chair. They sat on their butts, turned slightly, sex slave pose as they smiled at Jack, leaning into the chair. They were shivering with orgasm aftershocks, and the blue light caused the juices on their smooth thighs to glisten.

"You have... a room, dedicated to this artist?"

"Non. This is a room where I indulge in the occasional art expose, my love. One does grow bored in their old age, and as my collection of art grew, I desired a way to express it more thematically." A play room, for an elder vampire. Holy shit that was awesome. "And now that I have someone such as yourself to share it with, perhaps we can enjoy more games in the future?"

So very awesome.

"I knew you liked fashion, but this is... I mean... wow."

The Prince smiled at him, a heavier, more seductive smile than she'd been using as of late. He gulped again, and froze as she motioned for Ashley to stand up.

Antoinette stood up as well, turned the girl around to face him, and continued to look at him, gaze on him, as she lowered her lips to Ashley's neck, and began to drink. The little ghoul started to tremble, legs threatening to give out, but the Prince tightened her grip on the girl's neck, other arm hooked around over the other side of her. But she held there for only a moment, before the hand lowered, slipped between the ghoul's thighs, and began to finger Ashley, hard.

Jack stared on, and watched Ashley cum her brains out on Antoinette's fingers, as the Prince drank her down. Through it all, Antoinette continued to look at him, grinning at him with her eyes beneath the fangs of her skull headpiece.

She jingled the chain, and used the same hand to motion for Julee to go forward. Blushing and quivering, the other ballerina walked over to him, and stood before him.

"Ashley and I are your sacrifices for today. You... you should drink, as much as you want, in preparation for your night with the Voivode of Dolareido," she said, grinning a sly grin he wasn't used to seeing on Julee's face.

Voivode of Dolareido, an Ordo Dracul title.

Fuck, it was easy to forget that, apparently, dragons had a habit of doing some seriously scary shit, experiments with sciences that any modern scientist would call obscene, forbidden, and supernatural. So focused on all the other insanities in his life, he'd sometimes fail to internalize that his love was a practitioner of equally terrifying, mysterious research. She was dressed like an evil sorceress, or a necromancer or something, and as the blue light bathed them, turning her red eyes into black, he could now imagine it, imagine the deadly woman performing dark, inhuman studies in the quiet light of her laboratory.

And of course, the image only made his dick harder, because his dick was like a moth to flame.

He took the naked, shivering ballerina by her bare shoulders, pressed her breasts to his chest, and sank his fangs into her. She melted in moments. But, as he met Antoinette's gaze, and how she was still drinking, sipping Ashley, and fingering the woman again, and again, and again, he mimicked her. With one arm hugging and pinning Julee to his body, his other hand slipped down, got between them, and he thrust two fingers up into her wet slit, palm upward.

She went limp in seconds, conditioned by dozens, probably hundreds of feedings from Antoinette, and lately, by him. Whenever a set of fangs pierced her neck and flooded her with the relaxing waves of the Kiss, a set of lips, or fingers, or a cock, were on or inside her every time. The ballerina was helpless to it, and she started to collapse, her pussy soaking his fingers as her insides clenched on him. The pulsing squirts of her blood, each spurred by the spasms of her muscles, were honey on his tongue, thick and warm, sending a buzz through him as he drank her down.

All a precursor to the main event.

Antoinette picked Ashley up, holding the young woman up by her wrists, both in her one hand. She did the same for Julee, slipping her fingers around the girl's wrist, drawing it around as Jack held her, and grabbing the other, before picking her up. One girl in each hand, Antoinette used her height to keep them for touching the floor, except for the grazing of their toes, as she walked them toward the throne again. And, adorning her throne with ornaments, she set them down against its front legs, laying them out, sacrifices well consumed.

When she turned to face Jack, she set down the leashes still bound to the two girls, and picked up another one, from her throne's arm. Unlike the collar on the girls, this collar was bigger, thicker, fancier, with a skull with blue eyes where a large chain dangled from it, larger again than the chain the girls' leashes were. Antoinette walked up to him, grinned down at him, and handed him the collar. A small lock was on it, and if he put it on, he wouldn't be getting something this heavy and thick off of him without the key. It was heavy in his hand, and he stared at the jawless skull on its face, with the two blue eyes glowing and looking at him, daring him to give into this woman and whatever insanity she had planned.

He put on collar.

Antoinette sighed, long and pleasant, whole body visibly relaxing, joy on her lips and delight in her eyes. "Yes, my love. Mine. My own. No one else's." She tugged on the chain, gently, and guided him toward the throne. He followed, smiling, but shaking a little, as the heavy chain drew him toward the enormous chair. The queen of everything sat upon her throne, leaned back with a deep slouch, and slid her butt forward along the leather so her thighs were spread open and available. "Come to me, my love, and kiss me." Grin unending, she set one hand on the chair arm, relaxed, while the other did the same, chain held in her grip. She wasn't looking for a kiss on the lips.

"Can I ask what spurred this on?"

"Why, you did, my little Ventrue. Your questions about my past sent my mind wandering through faded memories, and thoughts of my old endeavors reminded me of times before I came to Dolareido. There are hazy images, dusty and blurred, of my reign, my power, my indulgences. This scene I have created around you is quite similar to one I enjoyed countless times, centuries ago." She tugged on the chain a little harder, and pointed down toward her smooth slit. "But do not ignore my commands, little Ventrue. You are mine, my love, and I would have you pleasure me."

He got down onto his knees, between hers, and leaned in forward to put his hands on the leather around her butt. With her leaning back, slouching like a relaxed queen, hips forward, legs spread, her beautiful sex looked dark against her alabaster skin lit by the blue light; when blue was the only source of light, red and pink became black. He could smell her arousal, her lips already a touch wet. Knowing she'd been masturbating while watching Ashley and Julee set his body on fire. Groaning quietly, he leaned in, and set his lips onto the soft folds of her pussy.

She sighed again, another long sigh of pleasure, as she relaxed into the grand throne.

"I asked your sire, my love, about what sort of tastes you kept secret from me. He insisted that you enjoy macabre delights, when approached with an artful, skilled hand." She gestured to the room around her. "He also insisted that, while you share an appreciation of the more serious macabre arts with your sire, you secretly enjoy such exaggerated, fantastical, beautiful pieces."

"I—" The moment he raised his head, her other hand pressed down on it, and guided his lips back to her slit with enough speed to feel some impact, his nose hitting her mons.

"I did not say stop." Her eyes grabbed a hint of steel, solid, staring down on him and through him. A little of that dragon showing through.

He held onto her ass, hands sliding in closer so he could grip onto her for some balance, while he got comfortable on his knees, and began to suckle on her clitoris. Long, gentle licks, easing up the smooth, wet lips of her, while his lips buried the whole of her pussy.

"I have tried to suppress parts of me, little Ventrue, that enjoying being more... dominant." Despite his suckling, licking, bathing her clitoris in love, her voice did not waver. As she talked, she watched him, gaze upon him, his eyes, while he licked her. A regular conversation for her, but he could feel the wetness of her pussy growing against his mouth, and it wasn't just his saliva.

He raised a brow at her words though. More dominant? Uh oh.

"Do not worry, I do not intend to harm you, my love. But, I do intend to enjoy moments such as these, a little more." She jingled the enormous chain, lightly, teasingly. "I hope you will acquiesce. I would love to let a touch of my... old self, emerge, with you. Oui?"

Despite being dressed up in armor that belonged on an evil sorceress, and him now on a leash, Antoinette was the vulnerable one in this conversation. She wanted to be a little more dominant with him, expose a little more of someone she used to be, or maybe was with her ghouls before he came along. Whips and chains? No whips yet, but there were chains now, lots and lots and lots of chains. What would she do next. Hang him upside down and give him a blowjob? Tie him down and force him to watch as she masturbated? He was down for all those things. Hell, the idea of those things... kinda excited him. Giving her permission to get a little crazier with her desire to be dominant? He really was a moth to flame.

He nodded into her body, nose nudging against her soft, delicate mons as his tongue reached lower to prod at her entrance. And with his eyes, he smiled at her.

She relaxed, visibly; the question must have been tense for her. Her free hand found his head, and she stroked his buzzed hair, returning his gaze, his smiles with her own, and caressing his scalp, an ear, behind his head, and along his shoulder, before she started to cum. Without breaking eye contact, she brought her hand up from his head to her breasts, and began to caress the closer nipple where it sat between the black fingers of her corset bust. Swollen, puffy, she teased it, traced it in circles, as tiny spasms fluttered through her limbs, down her thighs into her boots, and up her flat stomach, causing her belly to crunch lightly with her increased breathing.

Definitely, she'd definitely been masturbating while waiting for him to arrive, to cum this quickly. Fresh droplets of her juices met his tongue and lips, and slid down the curves of her ass as he rested his mouth against her. Stimulating the clitoris during orgasm would have been painful, but gently touching it, resting his tongue against it, as she came? He knew she liked that.

As if she hadn't just made a wet spot on the throne, as if it was just another day at the office, Antoinette rose from her seat, and began to walk. He got up and followed after her, eyes locking onto how the corset pinched her waist into a tiny sliver; a human would have trouble breathing. It made her hips and large ass look divine against the S curves of her waist, up to the curves of her back. The leather underneath her boots went past the knee a few inches, and pinched lightly on her curvy thighs, pressing in on them and highlighting how deliciously hourglass her figure was, all while giving her an edge of dangerousness. It was armor after all, black and covered in skulls with fangs and blue eyes, all buried in the ghostly blue light of the chamber.

He'd have to thank Julias later, for pointing her in this direction. Cause, god damn, he was enthralled. Antoinette grinned over her shoulder at him as she stepped over the black hands surrounding the mountain of blankets, and tugged on the chain to pull him toward her. Softness greeted him, the blankets of blue silk magnificent against his bare feet. The Prince tugged on him again, and he came to her side, obedient, little tingles dancing up and down his spine as he imagined where this would go.