Read your Contracts 04.3

The pervert had dropped trou and was furiously jerking his cock to the pathetic sight of her strung up and pinned atop a giant dildo. "How's that feel, cunt?" he said, sneering as his eyes took in the whole of her defenseless form, all of her pale skin flush with embarrassment. "Getting off yet?"

"Fuck you!" she barked.

"Tch, bad girl." He pressed another button and the machine cracked a strop across the small of her back. She squealed through clenched teeth as the sharpness of the pain faded into a burning sensation. "Neat, isn't it? So, are you getting off? Tell me, weren't you cumming? Want to go again?"

She resolutely ignored the question, then came another press of the button and a strop cracked against her tender breast. She screeched, spit dripping down her chin; her nipple stung with an intensity that made her reel against her restraints and roll her hips to try and find some relief that did not come. All she accomplished was dragging the tip of the dildo against the depth of her vagina.

"I asked you a question, demon. Answer me."

Memirellin turned a burning gaze on him, fangs bared. "I'll eat your balls!"

"Ho ho! Maybe later, once you've been broken in properly." The bastard smiled as he pressed the button again and stropped her thigh; he laughed while she was prevented from bending double with agony by her restraints. "Good girls get rewards, bitches get discipline. Feel free to be either one. So, were you getting off on my toy?"

Strung from the ceiling with the damned thing still rammed deep withing her cunt, Memirellin hung her head and turned to breathing exercises to keep herself from weeping. "Yes! You jackass! Yes I came!"

"Not quite good enough, but we'll work on it." He kept jerking himself, pressed the remote to start the dildo back up.

It was slow, too slow, but buried itself just as deeply inside her cunt as if there was an irresistible force behind it, purposefully teasing her with just the sensation of its girth spreading her out and the pulsating lotion that drooled out of her. Memirellin couldn't move enough to ease the feeling of it; the only ways she could move her hips did nothing but drag the tip along her inner walls, forcing little moans from her that made her captor jerk himself harder and faster. Without warning it began thrusting more and more rapidly, pounding against her insides with a determination to make her cum around it again.

It was as if the piston and her captor's cock were linked, he jerked himself as if he were the one she was stationed upon and it was his massive cock making her make all of the silly faces she knew she had to be doing. It wasn't that big, his cock, but it hardly mattered when it wasn't what he chose to use in her humiliation. Memirellin could feel the orgasm coming over the hill, it was only a physical reaction, it meant nothing, she reassured herself. Even her mother had made her orgasm in practice with her fingers, her toys, her... tongue... It meant nothing, had to mean nothing that her brain was feeling this way, that pleasure was outvoting pain for the moment. She clung to the knowledge that she wouldn't ever choose this partner. Ecstasy ran from her toes to her fingers, arcing along the sites that the strop had struck her skin like lightning; the burning pain only felt warm now. Her breath grew ragged, she could feel herself blossoming.

And then the machine stopped. Memirellin stared at the man, cheeks flushed and without quite enough emotional capacity to be as enraged as she meant to be. The aggravating smile on his thin-lipped face told her the whole story.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you about to finish?" he asked as though he didn't already know. "Did you think you'd been a good enough girl to earn that kind of release? Of course not! Haha! Say 'woof' for me, bitch. Go on."

Memirellin caught her breath as the flower of orgasm withered within her and the fact of agony everywhere else presented itself again. "... Eat shit..." she managed. She did expect the stropping, it barely made it any better as it lashed across her slender belly. She shrieked with renewed absolute revulsion.

"You're doing this to yourself, you know?" the man said. He came up to her station on the wooden horse and placed his disgusting hand on her thigh to rub along her skin. She snapped at him, but her fangs were nowhere near able to reach him and he only jumped an inch before remembering the fact himself. "You're here until you cum, aren't you? Why do you think this would be enough to satisfy me? Don't you worry, I've kept girls down here for days before without letting them cum even once. You'd be surprised just how many girls will throw away their humanity for an instant of pleasure after a week spent on the edge!"

The night continued like that, minutes turning into hours of battered pussy separated by new and more horrible lashings. There had to be some kind of device telling the machine when she was about to get off, even when she tried to fake indifference and eke one out. The wooden horse kept her right on the edge for so long that within hours and uncountable rounds, Memirellin was only taking a few strokes at a time before she was again accosted by lashings. The man grew tired of watching, left the room with the lights off so she could be trained automatically overnight.

Memirellin held onto the growing orgasm she'd been nursing for hours, took the rounds as well as she could. Eventually, she was able to put enough strength in her wobbly legs to lift her hips off the wooden horse and she slammed herself onto the huge dildo. She fucked herself on it after it shut the thrusting off, bore the lashings as she humped herself back down onto the dildo until she didn't care anymore about the pain, she felt the stayed orgasm grow again, harder and more fierce than it had been allowed to grow all day until it could not be denied any longer.

She disappeared from that place and fell onto the floor back home in hell, sputtering curses and twitching in the quakes of her orgasm. Contract: fulfilled.

-

It had been twenty minutes when Laura came out to find Memi sitting at a booth in the bar with the mayor of all people who was apparently taking a nap in his arms on the tabletop.

Memi waved to her friend.

"He's not dead, is he?" Laura said, sitting casually as though she didn't exactly care one way or the other.

"He's one of them."

"Ah, so is he dead?"

"No." Memi sighed. "He said he wanted to relive the experience, was likely going to try blackmail. I put him into a dream of the day in question. Real-time."

"So..."

"He'll be asleep for the next day or so."

Laura took a sip of Memi's drink. "Let him off easy, then? Good for you."

It was more that Memi was too bored to think of any worse torture, but she shrugged and the two of them left the politician where he lay.

-

Chapter 08

-

He was in a really nice bed... Someone had let his head rest on their wonderfully soft thigh while they petted his hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear from above. Harry tried to think of who it was, but his mind fogged up when he was on the verge of grasping any singular thought; it hardly mattered who it was when it felt this good anyway, and a virgin like him would have welcomed any kind of contact...

But... he wasn't a virgin anymore... Right, yesterday that had been taken from him by the demoness Fyelline. After that... she'd taken him back to her place in Hell and he'd met her daughter, been nearly drowned as Fye's bath attendant took him in her mouth. After that... things got hazy again. He vaguely figured that he was put down for bed, so this morning, it had to be her...

Fyelline leaned down, her incredibly soft breasts squishing against Harry's head, and she kissed his ear. "Lazy bones, aren't you going to say good morning?" she said in her mellow, caramel tone.

He shifted in an attempt to get up off her naked thigh, but she clasped a hand over his head and held him firmly where he was. Nevertheless, he said, "Good morning, mistress." Yes, he was a slave now, but he felt oddly comfortable within the role with only the one day to acclimate to his new lifestyle.

There was a lovely, plump smile above as she came down and planted another kiss on his cheek. "He knows his place, aww~ That's really too bad, and here I was ready with all the tools I would use to discipline you. Do you think, perhaps, you could be a little disobedient just for your mistress' sake?"

"But then I would be following your orders anyway." Harry laughed.

Fyelline seemed to consider whether his comment could be taken as disagreement, let him off with a very light pinch of his uncovered nipple. He'd been put to bed nude, because of course she couldn't have some random human walking around thinking that he could wear clothing for his own comfort. He hadn't been aroused at first, but all of this stimulation so early in the morning was getting to him and his hard cock dragged against the silky sheets of his mistress' bed.

She licked her lips. "I do so want to take my morning sup but, my boy, I have plans for your cock today. Though, I suppose there's no reason I cannot still have my pleasure with your body."

"Mistress?"

"Boy." She drew him up to sit in her lap and pressed her lips to his, immediately progressing to a French kiss which stole his breath. Her long tongue played with his, saliva passed between them as lips massaged against one another, dripped through the small gaps and gasps to dapple Fyelline's bountiful chest. Her hands wandered all over his body, light touches tickling across his skin, exploring his curves and gently squeezing. He was nothing but her toy, and while he was in her arms, while her breath was on his face, he was contented. His skin burned with arousal at her touch, yet she did not give him the release of touching his cock, no matter how gently; he wouldn't want her to, she clearly had bigger and better things in mind and properly said, it was her cock more than it was his anymore.

There was a veiled servant in the room, one with shaggy, black hair that he hadn't seen yet... Harry didn't know why he was noticing it when he couldn't possibly have seen all of them and their uniform enforced anonymity in the first place. The girl was skinny, squirmed in the corner, desperate not to be noticed by her lady and mistress. The servant was clearly aroused herself, Harry put it out of his mind; there was no reason to make his noticing her known and get her in trouble.

After minutes of heavenly, hellish, making out, Fyelline let Harry fall out of her lap into bed and straddled his face before he could stop her, as if he would do such a thing.

Delicate lips honeyed with arousal descended upon his and he began his work, kissing his way up and down her labia while she moaned and swayed her hips. His own needs were ignored and yet he couldn't seem to care when his mistress' pussy was right before him as a treat. She had to know that he was as happy to give pleasure as receive it.

Fyelline shifted her weight until she was pressing down forcefully on his face, grinding her swollen clit against his nose. When he added his tongue to the equation she trembled with the sensation: the prodding and his clumsy but enthusiastic licking.

And just when Harry thought they had arrived at a rhythm that would end with her orgasm, she stepped herself off his face and sat at the edge of her bed. "Ah, boy, if I allow us to go much further, a certain someone will have to wait another day for her chance as I wring you out. A measure of restraint is called for, I suppose. Come here."

"Yes, miss." Harry crawled to the edge where she sat waiting and she took his face in hand to plant another deep kiss on him and taste herself on his tongue. He came away with a dreamy expression which met the approval of both his mistress and the servant girl now unsubtly checking him out, pressing the heel of her hand against her skirt.

Though Fyelline should by all rights have seen her servant girl in the disgraceful state as she took Harry's hand and pulled him along, she said nothing. He felt it odd; of course the mistress of the manor should feel entitled to be as naked as she pleased at any given time, and her pet would be as clothed as she deemed necessary, but the help shouldn't be rubbing themselves in plain view... He dismissed the concern; Fye would have whatever obedience she desired from her people, and she might simply enjoy voyeurism.

Having been there only one day, and having been used as a human dildo the majority of that time, Harry didn't understand the internal structure of the manor. He'd accepted that he would be as free-range as his mistress allowed and her servants would keep him where he needed to be. Fye pulled him along with the surety that only the home's master could have, her step quickening as they approached their destination and her anticipation mounted.

They passed a library... He caught a flash of pink within and stopped suddenly enough that Fye lost her grip on him...

She re-established contact by pushing him against the nearest wall and slamming her hand into it by his head, claws burying themselves into the woodwork. Fye didn't snarl, didn't so much as glare; her fury was not so uncouth and yet it was iridescent. "Boy, explain."

"I'm... sorry. I saw..." Huh, now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't tell why he would do something that stupid. There was a memory poking at his conscious mind, but focusing on it made it flee. Something about the color pink?

The fury evaporated as quickly as it had arrived and she took his hand again, intertwining their fingers. "Your eyes should not wander, boy." They departed the site of his brief disobedience. "What is it they say? If your eyes cause you to sin, you should tear them out? Oh, do not worry, my boy; I take care of my property. However, I may not object to keeping your pretty eyes under a hood until I wish to avail myself of their beauty. And so, you see how gracious your mistress is?"

He had to agree, contractually...

Within moments they arrived at... There were no other words for what this place was other than "sex dungeon". The two nearest walls were laden with the tools of the trade: dildos of every conceived shape and size as well as half again as many that Harry would never had thought existed; restraints ranging from fragile lace to the kind of chain he imagined held back elephants; and a bevy of cow tools with inherently unknowable utility.

In the middle of the floor was the albino succubus who had lit Harry on fire the day before, tied up such that she couldn't get up off her knees or bring her arms from behind her back. Even though she'd been blindfolded, she seemed to smell her mother and the human enter and responded with all the furious snarling and snapping that her mother's anger had lacked.

With equal and opposite coldness, Fye slapped her daughter across the face with the back of her hand. Memirellin fell to her side on the cold floor.

Huh? But Mis- but Fye isn't like that... Harry's head hurt for an instant before he was forced to look away from the feeling.

"That's right, whelp, it's one of those dirty monkeys you hate so thoroughly. Don't you think it's about time to get over your revulsion of the race?" Fye bent and grabbed her daughter's arm to haul her back onto her knees with a red mark on her cheek, sufficiently cowed for the moment. "I don't mean to say that as if it were a decision you were to make. Here, I have one specially picked by mine own hand from the herd. You will become accustomed to his cock; when he is not within you, there will be a feeling of emptiness that you will seek out more and bigger cocks to fill. For now, open your mouth."

Memirellin's lips retracted from a maw of gnashing teeth, erection-shriveling fangs. She snarled as her mother crossed the room and retrieved something from the wall. Her noises faded into choking and groaning while Fyelline squatted and pushed a rubbery ring into her daughter's mouth, securing a path directly to the back of her throat, safe from her teeth. The girl's tongue thrashed within as she choked on saliva and tried to throw her head to dislodge the device, but it was soon enough strapped around her entire head and impossible for her to remove on her own.

"Boy, she's all yours." Fye slapped Harry on the ass to urge him on. "Nice and deep, make sure she feels that every breath she takes is a gift from you."

For being as hard as he was, Harry hated himself. Memirellin knelt before him, locked into the position by knotted ropes that dug tightly into her pale skin here and there and everywhere, some knots inserted into the line seemingly for no reason other than to put pressure on this or that sensitive area whenever her weight shifted even a little. Her hidden eyes brimmed with furious tears which showed themselves by damping her blindfold.

He stepped forward and took her head in his hands, her mouth already conveniently at the height of his throbbing erection. She smelled him, thrashed within his grasp futilely, choked curses that the ring made impossible to pronounce. Her white hair felt so silky soft in his hands, he felt guilty using it as a handle to slide the tip of his cock through the ring. It immediately hit her warm, wet tongue and he pushed past her resistance until the base of his dick was pressed against her lips and the tip dragged against the back of her throat.

What the fuck am I doing...

Memi was choking on his cock, gagging; her tongue flailing wildly beneath. He felt guilty, doing this to anyone, mush less the woman that he loved...

Love?... Do I love her?...

Harry began pulling out to give Memi some room to breathe, but Fye came from behind and clamped herself to his ass, thrust her hips and forced his cock even more deeply within her daughter with a renewed chorus of gagging. Fye kept her grip, making Harry nothing more than a glorified dildo while thrusting against her daughter's throat, giving the girl only ever enough time between pumps to gasp one shallow breath; Memi's spit foamed, spilling out from her lips and ran freely down her body.

"You can't be too soft on her, boy," Fye whispered in his ear amid the horrible music of her daughter's suffering. "She won't be able to learn her lesson if her spirit isn't broken first. Come on, let your bestial nature run wild, human, and fuck that hole!"

He leaned into the motion of his mistress' hips, becoming one with her while thrusting the tip of his cock against the back of Memi's warm throat. Orgasm was coming, he knew it, and from the sound of her sobbing gasps, she could taste his precum as it ran down toward her belly. Whether or not she hated it, his mind was too fuzzed with arousal to care; she'd take it whether or not she wanted it.

"Suck it, cunt!" Fye called down to her daughter as the girl struggled to breathe. "He's not going to stop until you do your job and suck!"

"Mistress, I-" Harry was stopped; Fyelline forcefully turned his chin and pressed her soft, plump lips to his. Despite the kiss, she continued thrusting her hips, pumping Harry's cock relentlessly into Memirellin's throat, and she reached down to grasp the base of his dick.

"You will not release her from her lesson until it has been learned," she said as she released him from the kiss.

The very slight extra sensation would have been enough to send him careening over the edge, but his stoppered orgasm only amounted to rapid, instinctive thrusts into Memirellin's mouth, making her sputter and cough. Only when his trembling stopped did she break down and take a drag on him, swirling her tongue along the bottom of his cock. It was too much combined with the agony of post-orgasm sensitivity, but Harry was held between this mother and daughter duo with competing desires from threefold directions ensuring that he would not be allowed to satisfy himself.