Tales from Arondell: Sodom - Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Nathanael Scarlett

An eternity passes, or so it seems, by the time my Dove returns to her senses. Even then Zaenack tongues her into her next orgasm.

“Oooh... Oooh Zaenack! Yes my darling. Like that.” She anchors his face to her wild-flower and writhes against his mouth. Her tiny wings drum the chair-back, and her sweet cries tug at my heart-strings. Filling me with an intense yearning, the likes of which I haven't felt since Lilleah died. My hard cock strains against my zipper, my balls ache and I leak into my shorts.

Easy, Nate. I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth, slow and deep. But it's difficult. Her delicate perfume, and the softness of her hair and skin intoxicates me. Reminding me how close she is to being mine.

She will be soon. I hope.

I groan as she melts in my arms, despite her initial reaction to me. Is it because she's caught up in the moment? It's possible. Ecstasy does strange things to the heart and mind, forging bonds where none existed before. Just as sharp words cleave a heart asunder, pleasure and mutual need can turn enemies into lovers. Even if it is for one night.

I think the old phrase 'love conquers all' refers to the power of lovemaking, more than anything else.

“Please don't stop, Zae,” my Dove pants and squeezes my hand, lacing her dainty fingers with mine.

Yes, hold onto me my Dove. Her joy cuts through me again, hot and sharp, clenching my insides. But I weather the pain and nuzzle her neck. Softly caressing her ear with my lips. She tastes so sweet, like a woman who wants me. Or am I imagining things?

She whimpers and tenses up, for a moment seeming torn: Pull back or lean into me for more?

They're always like this the first time I kiss or touch them. Zaenack was, and it won't be any different with Bella. She'll come back for more, because my kiss, my touch is like a drug. Only the strongest hearts and minds can resist me.

But... Maybe my Dove is different? Maybe she can...

No! I shake my head. Don't start thinking such things, Nate. Hold her close. Show you love her. She will be yours.

Aware of her rising shame and confusion – I smell and taste it on her – I brush my tingling lips down her throat, and touch her belly. Sweet Morpheus, I can't believe I'm doing this... My fingers tremble as I unbutton her skirt, and slide my hand beneath. Her silken skin shivers the second I touch her, and her breath hitches. I almost hear her heart pounding against her ribs.

Please. I suckle her neck and comb my fingers through her pubic curls. Let me touch you, Dove.

“Don't stop... Please don't stop,” she pants again, squeezing her thighs around my slave's neck. Was that meant for him or me? I shake my head again. Not that it really matters.

He draws his lips away, giving me easy access to her clitoris, and pumps his fingers in and out of her. The glistening jewel tempts me, begging me to touch it. Do I dare? I groan. Yes. Do it, Nate. Give her what she craves.

Knowing I'll regret my decision no matter what I do, I slide my fingers further down and stroke her clitoris. Feeling it flutter as she comes for me.

“No!” She squeals, jerking away with such force the chair topples and throws me back. Gods be damned! “You won't touch me! You won't...”

Trembling, my Dove lurches to her feet, nearly losing one of her kitten heels and struggles to pull her skirt down. Tearing a seam in her haste.

I stare at her and my slave. But I shouldn't be surprised. I knew this would happen. I knew it and I still took advantage of her.

Zaenack, seeming more troubled than I, crawls out from under the table and reaches for her. “Bella? Please don't go. I thought-”

“No!” She whips off her heels and throws them at me. I barely have enough time to roll aside as the leather shoes smack my chest, and forehead. Stunning me. I should've seen that coming too...

“I-I'm so sorry, Zae... I can't... I can't do this!” Bursting into tears she dashes from the room, slamming the door behind her. All because I dared to give her pleasure.

Gods be fucking damned! I grit my teeth and clench my hands at my sides. I need a fucking drink. I stagger to my feet and thrust my fingers into my hair. No. I need a fucking smoke! Stomping to the table, I snatch up my cigarette tin and pour another glass of wine. Sloshing the expensive vintage onto the tablecloth. Who fucking cares? The damned thing is meaningless compared to her.

Silly girl. My fingers shake as I stuff a cigarette into my mouth and struggle to light it. After a few tries, keenly aware of her perfume on my fingertips, the paper starts to burn. I inhale sharply. Oh yes, sweet nicotine. It's not the same as opium or nepenthe, but when I need a quick fix... I grimace and pinch the ruined bridge of my nose. I've needed too many quick fixes over my long years.

With my smoke hanging from my lips and wine glass in hand, I start pacing. She won't go far. She hasn't got anywhere else to go. I stop by the fireplace and swill my wine. The flames hiss and pop at me. Taunting me.

Except maybe to Miss Blackmantle... The thought lingers as I suck in another lungful of smoke, and release it with a low growl. No way in the Seven Depths of Taros am I letting her go to that Witch. It's bad enough that my son won't stay away...

“Master?” Zae's hesitant voice cuts into my thoughts. “Do you... Do you want me to go-”

I hold up my hand. I know what he's going to say. “Not yet, my Love. Give her some time.” I drag on my cigarette and lean on the mantle-piece. The heat doesn't bother me so much. It's almost soothing. Until my loins start to ache, reminding me I still have other needs to deal with first. “Check in on her before your next shift. But make sure she knows I want her to have you.” An odd sentiment considering what just happened. But maybe then she'll realise she can't have my slave without accepting me first.

I finish my cigarette, flicking the butt into the flames and turn around to face my Love. He's pushed the chair back into place. Now he kneels in the middle of the room, legs apart, eyes down and his hands behind his head. His cock is still hard, ready to serve and please me.

Oh, but he is a feast for starving eyes and minds. I abandon my empty wine glass and return to him. “My Love.”

“Yes Master?” Zaenack whispers and stares at the carpet. His granite grey face reddens. Isabella's alluring scent still lingers around him, taunting me. I try to ignore it. I don't want to get angry with my Love. Morpheus knows I've vented my bile on him enough.  But I still want, I still need a taste of her. Anything to quench this heat inside me.

“Stand up,” I growl.

Slowly, keeping his hands behind his head, Zaenack rises to his feet. He swallows hard, drawing my gaze to his collar. Isabella will be mine. I clench my fist and start to circle him, admiring every delectable inch. Perfection. No wonder the Ladies love him...

“How may I serve You, Master?”

Like this. I stop and move closer, until our bodies touch. I slip my fingers beneath his chin. Zae's skin shivers, making mine tingle. “Kiss me, my Love. I want to taste you.”

My slave raises his eyes, lust turning them black, and eagerly presses his lips to mine. Warm. Soft. Wet. Yielding. He opens his mouth to my ardent conquest, moaning as I scrape his sweet lips and thrust my tongue inside him. Our pierced organs tangle and slide together, sharing my Dove's delicate flavour. Mmmm, she tastes divine. Just as I imagined.

Fuck, this is madness. Shoving my hands into Zae's hair I anchor him in place and deepen my kiss. Becoming lost in his hot recess. But I want more, so much more than a simple kiss.

I release his hair and sweep my hands down his back, feeling the sturdy muscles encased in welcoming flesh. I seize his ass and give each cheek a playful squeeze. So firm. So ripe. Gods, I fucking love this man! Kissing him harder and sucking on his tongue, I grind my erection into his.

“Master...” Zaenack quivers. His muffled groaning pours into my mouth like wine, spurring me on until I can't take the pain any more. Breaking our kiss and tightening my grip, I back him up and throw him down across the table. Glasses and serving plates shatter or spill their contents across the tablecloth. Not that it really matters.

All that matters now is my Love. Kissing every inch of him. Burning my lips down his chest, biting his nipple rings and swirling my tongue around his belly-button. But I don't stop there. I kiss him further down, where the skin is so soft and clean-shaven. His cock bobs against my throat, tempting me, and I breathe in his erotic scent.

Oooh, my Love. I growl and bite him again, harder this time, sinking my teeth into his pubic mound. His blood is so sweet! I bathe my tongue in his vital fluid, siphoning his passion and pain, and drag my nails up and down his thighs.

“Master,” he shouts and arches off the table. “Please... Be-Be gentle...”

He's lying through his teeth. We both know he loves it, needs it rough. I doubt I could ever be this rough with my Dove.

No. Don't think about her, Nate. I groan. Now isn't a good time. I kiss the bleeding wound and soothe it with my tongue. Now isn’t the time to hesitate, either.

Unbuckling his leather sheath, I release his beautiful cock. Mine is thicker, longer and adorned with more jewellery, but his is perfect. Made for delicate flowers like my Dove. He wouldn’t cause her any pain.

Easy, Nate. I growl again. Go slow. You don’t want to hurt him. So I take him into my mouth, tasting him and settle into a teasing rhythm. Sucking, stroking and licking the curved shaft and sensitive tip.

“Oooh… Oooh fuck! Master…” Zaenack pants, thrusting his fingers into my hair and guiding me.

Normally I'd stop and paddle him a dozen times, even slapping his cock for being so forceful. But I love this side of him. It tells me how much he wants me, and there's nothing better than driving my slave wild. Though I’m sure the Madam would object.

My surroundings become a blur of grunting, thrusting and Zae's salty flavour. I've tasted a lot of cock in my time - I've taken a lot up the ass too - and not all of it willingly. So loving both sexes is almost second nature. A skill I'm fucking good at.
       
"Master..." Zae's fingers convulse in my hair as he bucks harder against my mouth. He's close. I feel it, taste it building inside him and massage the skin under his balls. "I'm going to come... Please... May I come, Master?"

Does this answer your question, my Love? I tickle his anus, and slide my index finger into the tight hole.

“Oooh fuck!” He jerks violently, filling my mouth with his creamy spunk. I gulp it down, still sucking him and rubbing his insides. Milking him dry. Only then I pull away and wipe my mouth, but I’m far from done with my slave.

As he lies on the table shaking and crying, I rise between his legs and pull down my zip. I don't bother with a condom, because it always feels better sliding in unwrapped. But I also have a tendency to tear them.

Spitting into my palm, I stroke my cock, feeling its weight and fullness, the way it twitches and lubricates my fingers. I pay special attention to my piercings – three barbells and a frenum ladder – making sure they're wet enough, and guide my swollen tip inside him.

Oooh fuck yes. His hot passage opens up and ripples around me, sucking me deeper inside. I'll admit this is the best part. The anticipation, the fear and excitement, all boils down to the first thrust: Will my slave open up to me?

Zae always does. Even on his back he impales himself, grunting and moaning as the table squeaks and our groins slap together. But I don't know if Isabella will open up for me. Not after running away.

Hoisting Zae's ankles onto my shoulders, I thrust a little harder, push a little deeper and surrender to my pleasure. My Dove might not be willing now, but I know she'll change her mind...

Continued in Chapter 9