My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 04

He held still and let the love of his life milk him of his cum. She didn't use her hands, she didn't need to, not with the beautiful corset keeping her breasts tight together. Tender sways of her chest back and forth was more than enough for her milky, soft skin to caress his glans to almost painful bliss, and cause spurt after spurt of his white cum to spill into, onto, and between her breasts, until it was overflowing and dripping down onto him.

"Again," she said.

"I, I uh—"

She yanked on the leash, and offered him a steel gaze, a hard gaze, a 'do as I tell you' gaze. "Again. Thrust."

He gulped, and started pushing his hips up, fucking her breasts under his own power, while she kept her weight down and forward, corset pressing into his side, the black metal fingers of the bust pressing against his pelvis and thighs. His cock was still hard, belly full of blood spurring him on, and with his own cum coating his cock twice over, in the tight softness of her breasts, the pleasure was immediate. He couldn't thrust too hard, not with Antoinette leaning over him like that, knelt beside him, but he could keep a decent, consistent, gentle hip thrust going, and he shivered as each inch he managed to slide his cock up and down between her tits filled him with growing heat again.

Her hand with the leash found his chest, and teased circles around his nipples, along his chest, down his abs and serratus muscles, and down to her own breasts. She dipped her finger between them, caressing the hidden head of his cock, its ripe, swollen body sparking with bliss. Now coated with cum, she pulled the finger out of her cleavage, and traced the white along his body, drawing the lines of his muscles with his seed.

Five minutes and he was cumming again. He collapsed his head back, only for Antoinette to yank on the leash again, and force him to watch, as his cum poured into her breasts. Cumming so quickly a third time was a pretty big flag over his head, saying 'you've found my kink' in big bright letters, almost as bright as the white of his cum pouring out over her cleavage, catching the eerie light and becoming a pale, glowing, ghostly blue. He stared on, hips managing small, trembling thrusts into her tits, until a few spurts of his cum managed to squirt an inch into the air up her sternum, hitting her neck corset, before splashing down onto her breasts, and leaking between the black metal fingers.

Finally, she let the leash slack, and his head fell back to the altar, body panting and shivering. Panting was unnecessary, he didn't need air, but the old reflex was hard to break, and he could feel it come to him naturally, along with a couple of tiny moans and a few shivers to go with them. When he raised his head enough to look down his body, he caught Antoinette's eyes, and melted into her gaze, how her eyes were looking his body up and down, and drinking in the sight of him in orgasmic bliss, in the same way he did her earlier. He tried to pin her expression; happy wasn't the right word, overjoyed was too much, and content didn't do it justice. She looked... peaceful.

She stood up. He looked up at her, head still resting on the soft leather, and he stared on at how the blue light highlighted his white cum against the black of the corset. His cum was trickling down her breasts, down her body, down the corset, and some of it dripped off of the underside of her breasts from the black metal fingers, and onto the blankets beneath them.

"Now," she said, grin returning as she sat down on the altar's edge beside his waist, "we may continue. How was your day, dear?"

"Um... uh... it was good. Met a sex spirit thing. Tried to make friends with a werewolf. Apparently going to be giving two of her pack some suites in Carlava Villa."

"Is that so?" She laughed. Retreading the notes of the Primogen meeting, in the new context of lovers talking about their day, was fun, and novel. "That may very well prove fruitful, if they have not tasted the joys of decadence and wealth before."

He smirked at her, and looked left and right, indicating he was trying to see his down and bound hands. Apparently, she didn't get the hint. He knew she did of course, but conveniently decided to ignore him, and leave him bound. Crap.

"You think?"

"Mmhmm."

"I get the impression Carter is set in his ways. I think he's the oldest person in the pack. Clara might enjoy it though."

"Oh, Clara... I feel juvenile, letting that woman's flirtations bother me so." She tugged on the leash again, pulling his head up toward her, and she grinned down at him with a touch of a fang exposed. "It is foolish of me, non?"

"Terribly foolish."

"Indeed." She let the leash go, letting his head bounce on the leather. He chuckled. "Perhaps I should find her another man to direct her attentions toward."

"Heh, is Daniel single?"

"... he is." She tapped her chin again, folding her legs again too, and lightly bouncing the one foot while she pondered. A nice, casual conversation, in a necromancer's throne room. "And dreadfully alone. His loneliness wraps him like a cold blanket, one he is too familiar with to cut from his body."

Wow. He hadn't expected her to indulge the topic of Daniel, or to speak about him, about personal things about him. Adult conversation about real things indeed.

"I don't know Clara well enough to suggest she'd be a good match, but you never know, right?"

She nodded. "People may surprise even me, with time." With a long sigh, she leaned back a bit, hand reaching behind her and across his legs to the other side of the altar to catch her weight. It caused her torso to lean back over his legs, and arch her back so the ridiculous curves of her massive breasts, highlighted by the suicidal corset, struck him dumb. Where did her organs go!?

"Makes me wonder if we should find Avery someone," he said. "If we want her to help us deal with the hunters, I wonder..."

"Perhaps." She picked up the leash again, and tugged on it, idly, like she enjoyed the feel of the metal in her hands. Probably did, especially with his neck thoroughly bound to the other end. "I—oh, I should let you up, should I not?"

He offered a slow nod, eyes scanning her for deception. There had to be deception, no way she was going to let him go that easily. A few moments later she started to chuckle, especially as his eyes squinted at her in their search for lies.

She reached down, undid the binds of his hands, and then again, for the binds of his legs. Oh thank god he could move again. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but being bound and unable to move more than two inches for too long was hitting him with a hint of claustrophobia. He'd get used to it, if this was going to become a regular thing, he was sure. Still, he sighed relief as he sat up, and put his palms to the altar's seat.

Only for her to gently push him back down onto his back. Still holding the leash, she slipped onto his waist, legs around him, metal boots to the silk blankets beneath them, and her hands down on his chest. She pulled on the leash, pulling him up to her, and putting his head to her breasts. His cum had faded away by now, so only the softness of her beautiful bo—ow, metal fingers, face, ow. He winced and looked up through the weird contraption up at her, and smirked as she smirked.

"I really do like the armor, by the way. On anyone else it'd be a bit ridiculous, but you pull it off, with the decor and the sex slaves and everything." He nodded past her toward the two girls, sleeping by the throne. Ashley was drooling.

"Armor is a strong word for the ensemble. It is a dress I commissioned many years ago from a fashion designer, with Temperman's work as their foundation. It is meant only to be used in sexual games. Had I known this drôle sense of fashion and art appealed to you, as it does to me, I would have invited you to share in this wonderful game with me sooner."

"Heh, when I was younger, I used to draw things like... well, like that." He gestured to the Grim Reaper statue behind them, and the glowing blue light escaping its ribcage.

"And why would a young boy have an interest in such dark art?"

"I never found it dark, really. Just, interesting. A representation of death, this larger than life concept, personified. And, the human skull is... surprisingly beautiful." He leaned back onto his hands as she let up on the leash a little, before reaching out with a palm to caress the corset underneath her breasts, then the bicep guards and the black metal faces they sported. His fingers drifted down her skin to her wrists, so his fingers could caress the blue eyes on those skull faces as well, before back to the corset where two metal skeleton hands wrapped the black leather.

She really did look like some sort of evil sorceress necromancer. God fucking damn, it was amazing. The fuck did he do to deserve such a woman in his life? His second life, anyway.

"It is beautiful, I agree." Still holding the leash, her other hand caressed the back of his head. His skull was on display all the time, considering his hair was now eternally buzzed very short. "It is an old idea, but reborn in interesting ways."

"What idea?"

"The woman, beautiful, mature, deadly and powerful, dressed in clothes such as these. There was a lengthy period in history I had to deal with, my love, where such imagery was considered offensive. And then the 60s happened. Suddenly, people were encouraging each other to test their limits, to break free of stereotypes, to embrace sexuality... and drug abuse, but let us focus on the former. Suddenly, women in bikinis riding white tigers were on the sides of vans on my city streets. But, more to my liking, were the images of women delighting in darker imagery, with tattoos of skulls upon their backs, and of snakes upon their breasts."

"Then you'd love Beatrice's tats."

"Oh, you have seen Julias's lover's breasts?"

Shit.

"Yeah? Kinda just happens randomly sometimes, cause she's around him all the time, and she couldn't care less if I see her topless." He winced as he said it, blatantly, hopefully putting a drop of humor on his response. Antoinette laughed. Mission successful.

"When such women also wore dark, long, black dresses, often with plunging cleavage, I delighted in its fashion. Visual artists naturally took such fashion to extremes with their brushes, and created imagery of women with their skulls exposed upon beautiful bodies, or with black wings, or wearing clothes... such as these." She leaned back, and gestured to herself, her enormous breasts being crushed in the black grip, her neck corset and the small skull on it, and everything else. Jaw-dropping beautiful. "And when you are as old and rich as I, you feel entitled to indulge in the whimsy of fashion movements, even that meant only for paintings."

"By all means, please, continue to indulge. And if there's any other fantasies you want to try out, hit me, you know? Doesn't need to be aesthetics I like. Could be anything."

"I will hold you to that, my love." She tugged on the leash again, pulling him closer to her so he was leaning forward into her awaiting body. "I am half a millennium old, and I have, my entire life, admired and sought to explore sensuality in all its glory. I have a refined and developed palette, my little Ventrue, and I will drown you in my imagination."

That sounded both very sexy, and very sinister. He kind of liked it either way, but still, shivers.