The Horned Moon

Blank nothing. Then. Images, images cluttering my brain like pictures flashing one to the next. Beautiful black lips, amber hair like fire. A black dress. Drinking a beer at a bar. My beer turned blue, blue lights glowing in my mug. The sounds of a guitar, piano, a fiddle, music. Walking with her, following her. A horned moon. Blank again.

I woke again, my mouth dry. Still couldn't see. Tried to rub my eyes. Couldn't. My arms wouldn't respond. My eyes were open but the room was dark. Dark like pure black. Struggle. Legs, arms feel as if heavy weights are pinning them down. Turn to the right to look at my arm. Can't. The same heavy weight is holding my head fast. Scream.

"Hush, hush, my little pet," came a soft seductive female voice. "Must we make such noise?"

Too dark, can't move to see who was speaking. Try to smack spit.

"Who's... who's there?" I ask, my mouth so dry, my voice raspy.

"Come now! Don't you remember me?" pouted the voice in the darkness. A fingernail traced my chest. I'm naked, I realize. The fingernail trailed circles.

"We met last night. You were so cute with your attempts to seduce me. Males these days." The fingernail slid towards my nipple, joined a thumb, then bit together and twisted. Hard.

I squealed. Then blushed, furious and embarrassed.

"Let me go! This is kidnapping! Torture!"

A caramel laugh, coated with scorn.

"Torture, my pet? Oh no, you have no idea. I haven't even done anything worthwhile. Just... a little... twist."

As she spoke, she slowly twisted my nipple, then gave a final jerk. My body jolted against the bonds. My helpless yelp gave no relief.

"Please, whatever you want, I'll... Look, I've, I'll, Then remembered I had no silver. I'm a... I'm... a..."

I searched my memory for what I was, but nothing except a blue drink returned.

"I'm a ranch hand with Buckhorn Ranch! They'll be looking for me! I'll give you silver coins" I had none but I had to try.

I tried to sound confident, but my breathing refused to cooperate. My words came out desperate. Silence was her only reply. I listened, trying to hear where she was moving. Nothing. She was as quiet as the room was dark.

A flick shocked my right thigh, evincing a wince. Another. Another. Just as I was about to yell out, a pinch caught my voice, twisting words into another yelp.

"Coins..." came the voice. "Every male seems to think I want..." twist, "their coin..." twist, "it is really rather..." twist, "amusing. Besides you have none, my pathetic little pet, don't you remember, I had told me to buy you a pint because you spent all you had."

At that, her whole hand slapped the inside of my thigh. I could feel the bonds against my wrists, my ankles, my head, my chest. They felt like an impassable point, not like straps at all.

"What," I said, panting, "What do you want? I'll give you anything, just, please... let me go. I have friends," blank, " just let me..."

A soft hand clasped my mouth.

"Shhhh, little boy," came the voice, slithering into my ear. "You'll know what I want soon. Very soon. When you do, you will beg to give it to me. But that's not important right now. What is important right now is, you don't even have anything holding you down right now. There's simply nothing..." she poked my wrists exactly where I felt a bond, "there." She poked again at my throat.

"This is insane... What are you trying to say? What are you doing to me?" I thought desperately for a solution, "Did you use mesmerism on me?"

Playful, impish laughter.

"Mesmerism? My goodness, you think I would be so crude as to resort to using parlor tricks? Hmm, yes, possibly I did? Do you truly remember nothing of our night together? How I swayed towards you at the tavern? How my body slid against yours as we danced? How my lips loved yours with such grace that you hardly dared to breathe lest you broke the magic? To say nothing of our tongues dancing, how yours followed mine! Goodness, what a forgetful pet you are."

Before I could reply, a warm breath cradled my face. Her scent filled me. Lips met mine, and instinctively, automatically, my body relaxed like a kitten picked up by the scruff. Her lips lifted from mine, but not before leaving a gentle bite, and I strained forwards towards the emptiness she left. Whatever bonds held me, held still.

"What have you done to me?" I whispered, barely able to coax the words into sound. Her soft lips kissed my chin, my cheek, my ear. Relaxation soaked into my muscles, and at each kiss, the bonds grew more and more faint.

"Why, my good little boy, I haven't done a thing. You just don't want to leave. Isn't that right?"

Another kiss, and I felt the bonds were gone. My mind continued to struggle. But an answer, an answer that felt as foreign as it felt familiar, slowly pressed through the resistance. Unable to hold my lips shut, I answered.

"No... I don't..."

I felt her smile, barely a half inch from my face.

"Good boy, my good little pet" she whispered, and a final kiss held my body firm.

When she lifted her lips from mine, my mind and body rebelled against each other. My limbs relaxed, my thoughts confused. Her hand stroked my cheek, and I leaned into it, but it was not my will which willed it. When she slid her fingers into my mouth, my mouth sucked but my mind tried to refuse her. When her fingernails scraped down my chest, my back arched in pleasure even as pain pierced me. And where her hand dragged slowly past my stomach and curled into my pubes, carefully tracing around my genitals, my cock jumped and twitched.

As my desire coiled into my belly and thighs, I felt a split in my brain. Some primal part danced awake, pulsing towards her hand that was teasing me like a cat on a fence would tease a dog. The other recoiled, knowing the inherent danger that filled the air. They pitted against each other, precarious, neither quite winning out in the balance of power, an ebb and flow from one to the other which she, my tormenter, controlled. As her hand moved from my cock, my desire pushed forward and she responded by slinking closer. As she threatened to close her fingers around me, my caution drew me away.

And when I did, she would smile.

Caught in the cycle, my cock was led helplessly. Frustration building up. Pre-cum began to drip on its own accord. She saw it before I felt it, and her eyes glittered like silver in the dark, literally lighting her face, and I saw her for the first time. The room began to slowly light up with candles coming to life. Her skin, so beautiful, so white and smooth, alabaster. Her eyes held a beautiful sadism. Her black lips, soft pale pink tongue. Her teeth were almost human, but seemed to come to pints, as if her mouth were full of canines. Her hair glowed amber and in the candle light seemed to sway like wheat on a calm breezing afternoon.

Her eyes gleamed, watching my cock drip like the first blood drawn from a little prey. She looked me straight in the eye, an eager grin growing on her face. Her fingers jerked towards my cock. Neither my natural self defense nor my natural desire could give way. There, the pressure built to unbearable, and the pre-cum started to flow.

"My, my, little boy. You sure look... tasty..." she gasped, her tongue caressing her lips.

I shuddered, both from want and fear of what her meaning implied. Wary, I eyed her tongue sliding along from side to side the points of her teeth, but I could still neither draw towards her nor pull away. I stayed trapped.

But then she made the decision for me. She clawed her hand, her sharp nails glinting in the dark as they pointed towards my cock, and she closed. The tips bit in a circle around my shaft, and my cry jolted pain and pleasure as she turned the tide for my desire to win the day. With her fingernails catching my cock, I thrust forward and back involuntarily, scraping lines along my shaft. Pain seared into my groin, but I couldn't stop. She held her fingers sadistically still as I, in my mad rush for fulfillment, thrust through them again and again. For all the pain, though, the pleasure was equal. But for all the pleasure, I found only frustration.

Wetness spread over my cock. I wasn't sure if it was blood or pre-cum. It didn't matter, only the pleasure mattered. My thrusting continued furious, ever building but never reaching a point of release. She could sense that frustration, and her smile continued, her eyes greedily watching the fluids soak out of my tip. Even in my fervor, I could begin to see the outline of her breasts come into view, firm and full. Her own breathing, I could see, was becoming erratic as well, her excitement building in tandem with my roiling frustration.

Then she released my cock from her cruel fingernails, and clasped the shaft with the skin of her palm. Meeting smooth pleasure at last, the pressure in my cock head built past those few degrees remaining to the point of no return. My mind swirled around that small kernel of sense that remained, huddled in horror by the unnatural scene. Bit by bit, my hips found strength from where, I could not guess. I reached that fever point which lay just before all self and semen drained from time. Desperation clung to me like the sweat slicking my brow and hair. Just a bit more... just a bit more... Just... almost...!

"STOP." came her command. And, beyond all laws of biology and sense, to my utter surprise, my thrusting stopped, caught against the invisible bonds which held me before. A moan escaped my lips. My release dialed back, click by minute click, until I was no longer in imminent danger of orgasm. When she saw that, the crease in my brow pleading with my quivering lips, she smiled. Always! Always she smiled! Pleasure, pain, frustration... all met with smiles! And her smile sunk into my belly with a thought. She was pleased.

Without warning, she darted her face into my crotch. She fixed her pointed teeth on my shaft just below the head, closed her lips, and sucked. Pleasure wracked my bound body. I shook, quivered, did all but the impossible thrusting my hips wished. She stayed sucking for a minute, another, more... Time left my mind. All that was in me was the sensation of pleasurable fire swirling around my cock, mixed with the fear of her bite. But she did not bite. She released my cock head, now slick only with the spit of my torturer, and my hips were free to move again.

At least, within the confines of her clawed fingers, opening and closing, opening and closing, seeming to never quite touch. With growing suspicion, then terror, I realized she was going to start over, from the very beginning. A low groan limped out of my lips, revealing my understanding and my despair.

"What's the matter, my little pet... Don't you want me?" This said as she leaned near me, her breasts within inches of my face, swaying slowly with her rhythmic trap. My eyes fixed on them like the pendulum at a hypnotist's office.

As her hand opened, my mind tried to force out a futile, "No..." Even just a whimper. But just before the words could form in my throat, her fingers would close again, and I would say "Yes..." And she would smile. And I would know in my stomach she was pleased. Again and again she did this... "Yes... Yes... Yes...." And the she would close her fingernails around my shaft, and I would thrust again with abandon into searing pleasure, and then when I had built to tongue shattering desperation, she would clasp me in her soft palm until I built again, click by click she edged me towards that point of no return, that point which she would not allow me to pass. And she would release me, lower her teeth to my cock head, gently clamp down, close her lips, and suck me into oblivion.

"Insanity..." I laughed, "I'm... I'm insane. I must be. Or else I'm going there...." And I laughed again. And she smiled. And I knew that she was pleased.

Again, yes, again, yes, again, pain, again, fire, again desperation, again denial, again oblivion, again, again, again, again.

I lost count of the cycles. My voice was a blubbering mush. I was beyond even pleading. I couldn't talk, I couldn't groan. Syllables left my lips at random. My eyes focused onto hers seeing her cruel condescension, her mocking pity,

"Poor boy... poor boy... Lets do something with that tongue of yours..."

She then leaned her breast towards my lips, and I began to suckle which seemed to expose to myself my helplessness. She would stroke my head, as if she were a mother comforting a child. But at the end of every cycle, she would draw away and the emptiness was greater than if she hadn't cradled me. And I would be lost again to her teeth, to her insatiable maw.

But always in my stomach, the growing pleasure of knowing she, my tormenter, my comforter, was pleased.

I do not know when she stopped. I had never once orgasmed. I was not of a mind which could care. I mumbled incoherently. My cock drooped dry. My balls ached from effort. My body convulsed and twitched. But, though my mind had left, my desire, Oh! My desire... it remained.

Slowly I woke again but this time I could move freely, there was light in the room. I was in my bed at the Hotel.

The sheets were wet with sweat, I was naked and my cock was hard and needy. Flashes of what must have been a dream danced in my mind. I reached down to stroke myself but as soon as I grabbed hold the pain shot through me. Looking down I saw the evidence that something more than a dream took place. Bleeding cuts around my cock looking like claws had dug in and left their mark.