4 comments/ 14705 views/ 1 favorites Fire and Ice Ch. 02 By: Darlantan (Note from Darlantan: This is sort of a pilot for a sequel to Fire and Ice, so let me know if I should keep going on it. As for all the amazing feedback, thanks, guys, and please, the more the merrier, so I know you like what I'm doing! :-) Happy reading, and I hope it's as popular as the first.) Fire and Ice 2: Equivalency The table held twelve, but only the eight surviving were present. There was little light in the room, which suited the nature of the meeting, not to mention the characters of the men and women present. All were dressed in suits and business attire, save for the single man facing the seated eight. He was dressed in a black knee length coat, emblazoned with arcane runes and twisting symbols. Although his features were calm, the room was thick with the tension of fear. Fear not coming from him, but because of him. This was Marrack, an expert of the occult, and supposed raiser of daemons and sprites. The Centre used him on occasion for consultations, and as a threat. Marrack straightened his shoulders, and the others in the room shifted in turn. Marrack smiled at the obvious terror he instilled. One of the eight shifted forwards, and Marrack felt his loins stir. The woman was cold, and hard featured. An ice he would like to break. "Tell me, Marrack, what do you know of the Glacier operations status?" Marrack eyed the woman before him for a moment, imagining her cries as he raped her. He imparted the visions to her mind and straigtened in his seat as she blushed and flinched back towards her seat. She wanted it, wanted it badly. Marrack had known few women that actively wished for rape, although many wished for a mild control. The chaotic lure of the violence of the act was something he exhulted in. A stuffy scientist leant forwards and waved his hand vaguely in Marrack's direction. "Well, sorcerer? Speak!" Marrack's eyes locked onto the puny man with open hatred, and he stood up with a grunt. "Eight only you are, little man, but my army is legion, and my reach is far. The Glacier situation is completely fucked. Fubar, if you wish. My pathetic sibling is gone, and his hatred for you grows, I am sure. I heard tell he beds the renegade, now. Strange, is it not? Fire and Ice, as it were. Sounds like some kind of faerie tale. What of it?" The scientist eased back into his seat, his wrath vanished in the blink of an eye, as though it were never there. Marrack found he hated the little man already. Another leant forwards, and this one was female as well. Not as cold, but Oriental, not normally Marrack's taste. Although, seeing her almond eyes and clean, silk skin, the sorcerer found his cock growing harder still against his thigh. "Marrack, this is what you know? Then let us tell you more of your brother. Mythril has become fully operational. His power is quite significant, and he has achieved something which none before him have thought to do. On assignment to recapture the Pyrogenetic, he found something of her abilities that perfectly counteracted his own." Marrack scoffed. "This is nothing to me. My contact with my brother ceased when he became your prided ice daemon, and shook of my overtures of peace and power. You have yet to tell me something to arouse my interest." His eyes flitted between the two women on the board, who in turn exchanged a quick glance. He imparted more images to them, of intense pleasure and need. The two began to fidget in their seats, and the scientist on the end looked at them with a flustered expression, then turned back to Marrack. "Whereas his mental state may become unbalanced without the adrenaline-enhanced trioxyfluoride, he has achieved a level of co-operative symbiosis with the renegade. They seem able to withstand each other's obvious differences and have garnered full and controlled releases of their abilities. They've left a trail of tightly controlled burns and cryostated rooms across the northern breadth of the country. They're headed this way." The Asian woman was openly staring at the thick length pressing against his inner thigh, and the other one's glazed expression was all Marrack needed to see. He eyed the scientist dispassionately. "So? What do you want of me?" Another of the men leant forwards, this one with only half a face, the other nothing but a scarred mess. Freezer burn, from the look. Marrack smiled as the man slammed his fist on the table. "Resolve the differences with your brother with finality. Mythril and Kendra have become more a liability and a danger than ever before. Their value is nothing compared to the risk. Kill them, and you will be paid most generously, with sacrifices or goats, or gold, whatever you wish." Marrack stood. "Done. I shall leave tonight." There was a sudden stench of sulphur and ozone, and a small creature suddenly burst from the shadows behind the seated eight. It clawed through the air ungracefully, it's tiny jaw split into three parts spitting hatefully as it flew. It landed on Marrack's shoulder, and rubbed its cheek against his, lovingly. Marrack eyed the two women eyeing his lustily and raised an eyebrow. The Oriental woman rose from her seat. "I believe a plan must be formulated, sorcerer. Although I detest it, perhaps Dr. Gillette and I should accompany you to discuss it?" The other woman rose, and the other six members of the board filed out wordlessly. The daemon sitting on Marrack's shoulder hissed at the two women, but Marrack patted its head reassuringly and smiled. "Is there something I can do for you ladies?" The two women looked at one another uncertainly, and the ostentatiously names Lotus shook her long silky hair from side to side. Gillette knelt down in front of her counterpart, and pushed aside the sorcerer's robes gently, to caress him through his pants. Lotus began to unbutton her blouse, and the daemon's eyes locked onto the small blue tattoo of a dragon draped across her left breast. The daemon hopped onto her shoulder, and began to suckle at her nipples, and Lotus stifled a scream. Marrack grunted as he felt Gillette ease his cock out of his pants. He was eight inches, and thick. Gillette tried to push his cock down her throat, but gagged about three quarters of the way down. She leant back to suck on the head, and her cheeks bent in as she sucked. Lotus began to rub the deamon's crotch as the tiny creature continued to suckle at her nipples. The creature looked back down at her hand, and then at the hard nubbin in front of it. With a shriek of joy, the daemon bit hard, and blood began to flow. Lotus screamed, then collapsed as the daemon's venom pumped into her system. Gillette took no notice, but instead concentrated on the head of the cock in front of her. Her tongue danced around the sensitive skin behind the head, and her teeth grazed the pulsating redness of his seam. Marrack watched as Lotus' expression turned blank, then orgasmic, and she lay still as the daemon moved down to her pants, ripping the expensive fabric with malice. Marrack waved his hand, and the daemon imploded with a shriek, returning to its own plane. Lotus pouted and sat up, then her eyes locked onto Gillette's bobbing head. She moved forwards and began to push in towards Marrack's heavy cock, trying to get her lips to it. The two women fought over his cock, running their hands and mouths up and down his shaft to try to please him the most. Marrack sighed as his hips began to slide forwards towards the two girls' faces. The sorcerer began to sneer at the pathetic mortals beneath him, fighting to pleasure him. Lotus turned and bent over, spreading her cheeks wide. "Fuck me, master, please…" Her whining moans turned to squeals as Gillette stood in front of her and thrust her hips towards the Asian woman's wide mouth. Marrack's sneer slid into an evil smile as he spread apart the little Oriental's arse cheeks with one thick hand. The corporate sexpot looked back from driving her tongue into her associate in time to scream in pain as the sorcerer drove himself balls deep into her tight ass. Her eyes bulged and her mouth worked like a dying fish, but no sound came out. Marrack began to move his length in and out of the pained woman, her features in a mass of pure pain as he violated her. Lotus bit her lip, and Marrack leant forwards, sliding his veiny cock deeper into the woman beneath him as he pushed her silken hair away from her face. He gestured to Gillette, who was running her fingers in and out of herself wantonly. "Please her while I rape you." Lotus moaned as he began to rub her underneath his thrusting cock, and her knees grew weak. Her tongue came out as she began to suck at her associate's swollen lips, and every so often, she gave another squeal as Marrack thrust himself into her. He looked down and watched his cock push into her hole, and listened to her cries of pain. He grew thicker, and began to increase his speed. Gillette quivered at the desk's rim, her legs going to jelly as she blasted Lotus in the face with a sudden climax. The Oriental woman shied away from it for a moment, then cried out when Marrack slapped her right ass cheek hard, hard enough to leave in imprint. The sorcerer sped up his pace, driving himself faster and harder into Lotus' bowels, until she cried in the sheer pain. Gillette sunk to her knees in front of the impaled, weeping woman, and began to softly kiss at her face. Their tongues suddenly danced, and Marrack was blind with the lust pouring through his body. His cock pulsed, and he began to cum, his pistoning cock made suddenly hypersensitive by the slickness of his own cream. He pulled out of Lotus, who collapsed with a sigh, his cock still streaming cum. Gillette lurched forwards to catch it on her body and face, and began to mouth his slick, shining head as though it were an ice cream. The sorcerer gathered his energy for a moment, watching as the woman beneath him cleaned his cock head and shaft of semen. Her eyes narrowed in distaste at the juices, the combination of Lotus' ass and his semen apparently unpleasant. Marrack reached down and pushed her head away, and tucked himself back into his pants. He had preparations to make. *** Kendra leant back against the motel window, staring out over the street. There was very little to see, in actual fact, merely an empty car lot and several motorbike gang members around the front entrance to the bar across the road. Other than that, there was nothing else to see. The town was small and unnamable, and could have been any one of a thousand of them scattered across the county. The only difference to tell was the colour of the skin of the barflies, and the names of the motels they stayed in. The Pyrogenetic scoffed quietly. They had stayed in eight "Motel Paradise" rooms, all separate, all different, yet all the same, in their trek across the northeast. The figure in the bed gave a quiet sigh and sat up. Kendra turned to appraise her companion and a wicked smile came to her face as she noticed his skin, a patchwork of dark tanned flesh and glistening silver, all marked by her fingernails across his back. Her lover was a large man, a fighter. He stood at just over six feet and eight inches, with a military style hair cut. His eyes, her favourite feature, where a glacial blue. His muscles could have been sculpted by God himself, so defined were they. His waist was thick, as was the rest of him, a fighting warrior, through and through. And the strangest lover she had ever had. Aside from the fact that his skin was the colour of the ring around her finger, he was another Generation 6.1. Their parents had partaken in a Government funded program run by an enigmatic foundation known melodramatically as the Centre. Through genetic enhancement and experimentation, they had developed incredibly enhanced psychic abilities. Unfortunately, there was little that could be done for their psyche. Irrevocably drawn to insanity, unable to cope with their immense powers, the Generation 6 patients were written off as genetic failures and placed in state care. Years later, it came to be that several had children in the real world, and that these children bore the same powers, if not stronger abilites, than their parents. Kendra's own father had been killed by smoke inhalation in trying to stop a fire he himself had created. A beam had fallen across him, pinning him to the floor as the fire raged around him. Kendra, then a mere child of six, had been able to finally stop the fires, but by then it was too late. Her father had died. Dubbed a Gen 6.1 by the Centre, she and the others like her were classified as immediate retrieval priorities, and Kendra had been on the run ever since. She had eluded capture, through sheer luck, mainly, until two years ago, when Mythril had caught up with her. The Yin to her Yang, Scott Graham was Cryogenetic, with the ability to freeze or create objects by freezing water molecules in the air through mental ability alone. He had spent the majority of his life in the confines of the Centre, and as such had never needed to learn to control his abilities, to contain himself. His core psyche was constantly permeating into the air, cooling the temperatures in an attempt to release some of the pressure that would build up inside him. In an attempt to make his abilities far more utilizable, Scott was subjected to a process which transmuted his skin but allowed him to have a far greater focus for his cryo-telekinesis. With the codename of Mythril, ostensibly to reflect his value to the Centre, but in reality little more than a cruel joke, his was then subjected to a horrid addiction to a virulent addiction. To maintain the silver skin, and thus his focus, Scott had to regularly inject himself with a dose of adrenaline-enhanced trioxyfluoride. Once his addiction was fully developed, the Centre released him to find the primary renegade, being Kendra. Sure that his addiction would be sufficient cause to bring him back, with the renegade in tow, the Centre's board of directors provided him with several weapons and sets of clothing. With enough money and clothing to support himself for a month at best, given that his monthly injections were never to be allowed off premises. Scott had caught up with Kendra in Phoenix, and had captured her easily. Through the course of several hours, the two had met in a passionate embrace of icy fire, and had found one another in a totally different way. For the first time in her entire life, Kendra had found release, the final barrier and loss of control that allowed her to fully experience herself, and her lover. Scott, who she then only knew as Mythril, had also fully experienced himself for the first time, and experienced the touch of a woman for the first time. His hands had been cool against her heated skin, as her touch had brought warmth to his inner coldness. Their released passion and powers had combined to move them both, and the two of them had never been more than a few metres apart since. The tall Australian was rubbing his head gently, massaging his temples. His withdrawal pains from the addictive drug still persisted today, all of two years later. The first three weeks had been the worst, with Mythril in a delirious and insatiable state, his powers running virtually unchecked throughout wherever it was they were staying at the time. A smile bent the corners of Kendra's mouth as she pictured all the faces of the motel attendants, frantically apologizing for the state of the rooms, and naturally calling the plumber or air conditioner as soon as they left. While Mythril had undergone all this, Kendra was barely from his side, and the two freaks found comfort in each others arms. Eventually Mythril pulled out of it, and realizing that he was more than simply comfortable with his lover, he told her his own story, of his days in the Centre. Scott stood and stretched, then turned to regard her. Kendra's eyebrow rose at the pinkish caste to his flesh along his face and neck. His silver skin was slowly fading, even as his control over his powers grew. Within a few weeks, his entire body had begun to slowly leech the colour back into his system, although certain parts of him still held their argent hue, Scott was becoming human again. Her eyes drifted lower, and her smile widened. Scott laughed and blushed, and Kendra's smile widened further than she could so easily draw embarrassment to the huge man in front of her. She pushed off of the window ledge and sidled close to him, pressing herself up against his rock hard body. He frowned as he draped his arms under her arms, and closed his eyes. Kendra pursed her lips, her own brow creasing. "Headaches again?" Scott nodded and a ghost a smile played around the corner of his mouth. "And with only one cure, too." Kendra suddenly burst into a fit of giggles as Scott bit down onto her ear playfully, and his hands locked like vice onto her hips. His face burst into pure joy as she slapped at him ineffectually, and resigned herself to be accosted and said as much. Scott's joyous expression slowly changed to one of solemn reverence as he reached up to push away a few loose strands of hair away from her eyes. "You know I love you, right Ken?" Kendra's smile also faded, and she bit her lip. Over the last few months, he'd told her several times, and she shied away each time. People she loved tended to die, or be disappeared. It was the way of things. "I don't have that much luck with love. I'd rather just have us." Scott snorted and picked her up bodily, pressing a heated kiss to her lips. Kendra returned the kiss slowly at first, then with more and more passion. It never failed to amaze either of them how much their ardour would persist, with either one reaching for the other at several times during the night. Scott's caressing fingertips still felt like a touch of wonder and discovery, whereas Kendra's passion was as heated as her own flames. Kendra's hands wormed into the waistband of Scott's constricting boxer shorts, the dull grey cotton a stark contrast to the bright white of Kendra's mocha skin. Scott grunted as her fingertips closed around him, and she slowly drew him out of his underwear. She pushed them in the vague direction of the bed, not really caring if they made it there anyway. Scott's mouth quirked into a smile as she began to massage his thickness, even as they reached the edge of the bed. Kendra pretended to frown at him, then her eyes took on a wicked glint. Her hand moved to the tip of his cock, her palm surrounding the throbbing head. Then her fingers closed in, and she squeezed. Scott's eyes bulged, and he thrust upwards into her grip. Her hand didn't move, but her grip lessened, and she moved the heel of her hand, rubbing the silk skin of her palm against the seam of his cock. The room began to slowly chill as Scott's control lessened, then grow damp as Kendra's fire melted his ice. Scott curled his hand and a long shaft of pure ice grew from his palm, and he thrust it towards Kendra's pubic hair. Her dark eyes widened as its icy shaft pressed against her fiery clit, and she gave a shriek as a huge electric shock streamed from her loins, right through her body. Scott moved the ice forwards and slid it inside her, and her mouth worked soundlessly. She froze, unable to move as he began to slide the ice inside her slowly at first, then faster and faster. Small beads of ice grew around her nipples, and Kendra found her voice in a high pitched moan of pure sensation. Scott moved behind her, and began to rub the seam of his cock along the crease of her ass, and Kendra's head dropped to rest her chin on her chest as she let him totally rule her. The Cryogenetic's fingers were small points of sensation, her heat broken by his fingertips of ice. His cock was as the ice as well, only better. Kendra sighed as be began to push his cock inside her. Fire and Ice Ch. 02 This story is evolving as I write it, the characters are stumbling from my fingers onto the page. So, if it seems slightly disorganized, I apologize. These characters have been warring with themselves in my head for a while, it was time to let them out. Keep up with me here. Thanks for reading, and enjoy. Chapter 2 Over the course of the next few weeks, I found myself spending more and more time with Adam. It got to the point where my girlfriends were asking if I'd started dating him yet. The answer was always no—aside from that first time we'd studied at Espresso'd, Adam had never expressed interest in dating again. I didn't mind, though. It was nice to have someone to sit next to in all of my classes. It was slightly strange how I hadn't noticed Adam before he introduced himself to me. I'm not the most observant person in the world, but that day in the parking lot, Adam's face was completely foreign to me. Couple that with the fact that he was in every single one of my classes, and you had yourself a real puzzle. I noticed that people seemed to ignore him unless he spoke to them first. He had a couple other friends that I had seen him walking around with, but he was more or less a loner. What completely baffled me was the lack of girls following him around. Adam was probably the most attractive man on campus, and nobody seemed to notice that. I was grateful that he had come around, though. With his help, I had passed my last test in microbiology, and we were working on studying for the final, which was coming up in the next week. My evolution professor stopped droning on as the class came to an end and I started packing up my things. I shouldered my bag and glanced up at Adam; he was waiting at the door for me, as usual. He gave me the grin I was starting to know all too well. "Wanna do lunch?" I grinned and nodded, flipping a curled strand of hair over my shoulder. "Sure. There's that new sushi place..." I trailed off at Adam's face when I mentioned sushi. "That stuff just smells nasty," he said. "But I'm willing to give it a try." I smiled at him as we walked out of the building and out into the sun. It had snowed recently and the ground was a glittering field of white wherever students hadn't trampled a path. I turned to face Adam—he already had his shades on. "Let's just walk there. It's close and we're done with class for the day," I said, and Adam nodded. We walked quietly in the bright light, Adam's footsteps and mine crunching into the snow as we walked. Bare branches hung above us, covered in the white powder. Everything was still quiet and serene, all sounds except for our footsteps muffled by the snow. Adam and I had grown used to walking quietly together. Silence was never tense—it was comfortable, and I appreciated that he wasn't one of those people who always had to have a conversation going on. He was wearing a worn leather jacket with his shoulders hunched over, his hands in his pockets. Though in most people his posture would reek of low self-esteem, Adam pulled it off effortlessly. His gaze behind his sunglasses was direct, no matter where he looked, whether it was to make sure no one was coming before we crossed the street, or glancing at someone else as they passed by us on the sidewalk. His grin was always ready, hiding behind his lips. It was times like this that Adam stunned me—his masculinity was so attractive it made me feel like a foolish teenager. As we arrived at the restaurant, he opened the door for me and ushered me in. I switched the shoulder that my bag hung on and walked up to the counter, Adam right next to me. Pointing to a few freshly-made sushi rolls, I had them plated up and walked to the register to pay. I was rummaging through my bag, looking for my wallet, when Adam spoke up, "I've got this, Em." I looked up at him, surprised. "You aren't even getting any food for yourself. Why would I let you pay for me?" Adam laughed as he handed the cashier $10. "Too late, Em. I already did." As I stood there, staring at him, unsure of how to respond, he took my plate and ushered me over to a table, sitting me down. "Where's your food, Adam? Not going anorexic on me, are you?" I picked up a sushi roll and shoved the entire thing into my mouth. Adam just chuckled, "Nah. I'm just not that hungry. Nerves, I guess." His sentence stopped me mid-chew, "Nerves? What are you nervous about?" I blushed when I realized that I probably should have swallowed before I asked that. Apparently Adam didn't mind though. A little noise issued from his throat that almost sounded like a groan. I refused to believe that he was getting turned on by the sight of mashed-up sushi in my mouth and swallowed. I shouldn't have let my mind wander in that direction. The image of Adam, turned on, was almost too much to bear. I could just see, in my mind, each piece of clothing coming off to reveal a body underneath that was too much like a god to be real. I gasped, blushing furiously, unwilling to let myself imagine his lower half. Taking a gulp of water, I tried to cool myself down, but it was too late and the image of his shaft, hard and throbbing rose unbidden into my mind. I felt myself getting wet. For the love of God, I was fantasizing about a man who was sitting right in front of me. To be fair, he had his eyes closed and was breathing slowly, as if he was trying to calm himself down. I took a couple of deep breaths and felt myself relax. Adam cleared his throat. "You have to stop doing that, Em." I looked up at him. "Sorry. You just surprised me. I meant to swallow first, I swear." Adam chuckled. "Not that. The blushing. You blush a lot." As he mentioned it, I felt the heat creeping up my neck and rising into my cheeks. "It's not something that I can help, you know." I was embarrassed, and it made me irritable. Adam just laughed, then took a deep breath, "I know. Besides, it's sexy." I sputtered a bit, "Sexy? You think I'm sexy?" His eyes widened, "You don't?" "I don't really...I mean I look alright, I suppose...God I don't know!" His comment wasn't helping the blushing at all, and it was a terrible cycle. The more I blushed, the more embarrassed I got, which caused the blood to rush to my face all the faster. Adam was just looking at me with a cocky little grin on his face. I could feel his eyes following the red up my neck until he met my eyes. His gaze made my knees go weak and I could feel the heat pool between my thighs—it was a good thing that I was sitting down. I bit my lower lip and broke the gaze, looking down at the remnants of rice on my plate. I started pushing them around a bit, unwilling to look back up, until Adam placed his hand over mine, stopping the motion. "Well you are. Sexy, I mean. The way you act all shy and demure—so innocent. It's sexy because it contrasts the perfection of your look and creates an irresistible combination that I find myself extremely attracted to. I've been trying not to come onto you too strong, but god, Em. You make it hard to do." I could feel my eyes widening as he spoke. He seemed serious about what he was saying, telling me how he was attracted to me, but all I could concentrate on was his fingertips tracing along my skin leaving a trail of heat in their wake. This man was attracted to me? God, what was I supposed to do? He was perfection itself—I'd had one boyfriend previous to this, and it wasn't anything serious. Aside from a little making out, I was still a virgin. I'd never even felt this way for a guy before, and suddenly I'm fantasizing about a man who obviously had more experience than I did. And that damn heat was still pooling between my thighs. Adam leaned across the table until his nose almost touched mine. My eyes closed gently and I felt his breath, soft, across my lips. I heard him inhale softly and could barely distinguish a slight groan, "You smell so good, Emma. You always smell. So. Good." I wanted to kiss him so badly. I could see it, in my mind. Closing the last inch of distance between us and pressing my lips to his. The table would disappear and I would mold my body to his, clinging to him as our lips locked. He would taste like everything I'd imagined, and those little groans he'd been making all day today would get louder as our tongues got bolder. I could see it until I no longer felt his breath across my lips. Opening my eyes, I saw him sitting across the table, looking at me. His eyes were dilated, and he was breathing as hard as I was. He cleared his throat, "We should...eh hem...go back to campus." I nodded silently and stood up slowly, shakily, my legs still weak. Adam came to my side of the table and put a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. "You ok?" he asked gently, and I nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. As if he would be able to see into my mind and pick out every fantasy I'd had about him. We walked out of the sushi bar and Adam seemed distant. He glanced over at me and gave me a wry grin, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable Em. I guess I'm more attracted to you than I thought. Sorry about that...smell thing." I couldn't help the smile that crept across my face. "Yeah. That was weird. You're kind of a strange guy." Adam glanced down at me and gave me his trademark grin. "Glad you think so, Emma." He reached out and took my hand, watching my face for a reaction. I felt my heart flutter and I gave his hand a small squeeze. That seemed to be the sign he was looking for and he gripped my hand tightly, entwining his fingers with mine. I was unsure how I felt about his hand wrapped around mine. Granted, we'd been seeing each other almost every day for a month now, but my emotions about him were still scattered. He wanted to date me, he had said so. And dear lord, he was an attractive man. But other than that, I didn't know too much about him. He was smart, funny, confidant...he seemed genuine, but how could I know that for sure? Our main topic of conversation during all of our little 'meetings' wasn't ourselves, it was science. He helped me study and that was it. With his help, I would breeze my final. Outside, walking through the cool air, my fantasies inside the sushi bar seemed silly. Adam was a friend, a great one. I looked down at our hands. How long was that going to last? Adam looked down at me and gave me a smile that I hadn't seen before. It was tender, solid, and I felt warmth envelope me from my head to my toes. A chill travelled up my spine after that—this was moving too quickly. I tugged my hand away from his; when he looked down at me, I couldn't see any emotions behind the sunglasses covering his eyes. I was unsure of what to do with my hand as it swung between us; eventually, I just shoved it into my jacket pocket. Adam had done the same with both his hands a while ago. We walked back to campus, to where my car was parked. I stood in front of it for a moment, unsure of what to say. Was this ruined? Had I lost him because I didn't want to hold his hand? I turned to look up at him and he was looking down at me, his lips quirked in a small grin. I still couldn't see his eyes, but I knew that behind those shades, those strange colored eyes would be dancing. I felt the blush coming on and I turned away, rummaging through my bag looking for keys. Just as my fingers closed around them, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I glanced up at Adam, and his little grin had become a full smile. "You don't have to hide your blushes, Emma. I didn't mean what I said about stopping. I like them. I like you." I smiled shyly up at him, unable to speak for a moment. His hand dropped and I turned back to my car, fumbling, pressing the key into the lock and turning. I opened my door and threw my bag on the passenger seat. Before I stepped into the car, Adam spoke up, "So, studying again tonight? My place, this time?" I looked up at him and grinned. "Yeah, that'll work. Can you text me your address?" Adam nodded, "I'll do that." "Thanks. You know, you're the only reason I'm passing these classes. You're like a private tutor." Adam faked a grimace, "Great. That's all I am, eh? A tutor?" His smile couldn't help but show itself a little behind the charade. I grinned and looked up at him, "For now, anyways." As I stepped into the car and Adam shut the door, I couldn't help but notice the look on his face. He was watching my every move. I clicked the seatbelt into place and he gave me a little grin and a wave, then turned and walked back to the center of campus. I pulled up in front of my apartment just as my phone went off. Hey, it's me. Come by at 7? My address is... I smiled as I texted back that I would be there, and went up the stairs, unlocking the door to my apartment. It was only 2pm. Five hours seemed like a lot of time to kill. I dropped my bag on the couch and stepped into the bathroom, stripping. I felt grimy, like I had just run a long way. Sweating in front of a guy at a sushi bar will do that to a girl. As I turned the shower on, my panties fell down around my ankles and I stepped into the steaming water. Closing my eyes in bliss, I felt the hot water run over my entire body, tiny rivulets running between my breasts and down and over my ass. It pooled around my feet before disappearing down the drain. The shower seemed to clear my head; it got rid of those last cobwebs lingering from the fantasies that I had earlier. Adam's presence seemed to cloud my judgment, but with him gone, everything was clear. Adam and I were friends. If I ever started to feel like it was something more, I'd just have to remind myself of that fact. Adam needed to get that straight in his head. No more "dates". I was going to be firm and clear, and he was going to be understanding. I turned the shower off, stepped out, and toweled myself dry. Wrapping the towel around my midsection, I crossed the hall to my bedroom. I grabbed my robe from the hook inside my closet and wrapped the soft cloth around my body. Twisting my hair up, off my neck, I grabbed a book off the shelf. Ever since Adam had come around, my studies had been going so well that I actually had time to read for pleasure, and it was amazing. Curling up on the chair next to the window in the corner of my bedroom, I opened Jane Austen's Emma, a book perfect if only because of it's name, and settled in to read for a while. My eyes were jerked open by the vibrating of the phone on my dresser. Shit! What time was it? I jumped out of the chair and ran to my dresser, picking up the phone and answering it. "Hello?" "Emma? It's Adam. I was just wondering..." "Oh my God, I'm sorry Adam, I'm coming! I fell asleep and lost track of time and..." "Whoa, chill. It's only 5:30, Em." I glanced at the clock on my wall. He was right, thank god. I felt slightly embarrassed as I cleared my throat, "Oh. So...why are you calling then, Adam?" I could hear a chuckle through the phone. "I was wondering if it would be alright if we pushed the time back a little. 7:30 would work better—I forgot that I have to meet with a couple professors until 7:00, and I don't want to be late." I nodded, indicating that 7:30 was fine, until I realized that we were talking on the phone and he couldn't see me. "Ah, yeah, 7:30 is fine. I'll see you then. Same address, right?" I grinned. Adam laughed. "Hasn't changed yet, anyways. See you later, Em." I heard a click as he hung up the phone. Still two hours to kill. I sighed as I padded softly to my closet and opened it up. Dresses hung up of various styles and colors, but nothing that I wanted to wear. I decided to wait on the outfit and simply go style my hair. I walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, tilting my head from side to side. Taking the twist out of my hair, it fell around my shoulders, thick enough that it was still damp from my shower earlier. I flipped on the hair dryer and within a few minutes my hair was dry and frizzy as hell. I made a face in the mirror. Why can't I be one of those girls whose hair does exactly what it's supposed to at all times? I sighed and started to brush it out. At least it was a rich brown color. That made the frizziness an okay thing. Giving up on my hair for a while, I strode back into the bedroom to choose an outfit. After picking through every outfit I owned, I was frustrated with myself. What the hell is wrong with me? We're just studying. This should not be that difficult. Eventually, I had it all figured out. I had slipped on a pair of skinny jeans and a cute lacey top. Boots crept up my thighs, over the jeans, and a long, loose blue sweater jacket completed the casual attire. I was proud of myself—I looked good, but it didn't look like I had tried too hard. I curled the ends of my hair, swiped a little mascara over my lashes, and brushed a stick of chapstick over my lips. Finished. I checked myself out in the mirror, hands on my hips. That wasn't that difficult, what had taken me so long? Crossing the hall back into my room, I grabbed my book bag, my keys, and my phone. Locking the door behind me, I took the steps two at a time and strode into the cold night air, unlocking and stepping into my car. Around fifteen minutes later, at 7:25, I pulled up in front of the apartment building with the address that Adam had given me. This can't be right, I remember thinking. The apartment complex was made of red brick. Large windows covered the south wall, and the entire area was well taken care of. Small Christmas trees decorated with white lights framed the entrance. The entire area was well-lit, completely opposite from the small, dark area of town in which I lived. I actually felt a little nervous as I walked up the sidewalk to the main hallway; there was no way that a college student would ever be able to afford to live here. Either Adam's parents were rich off their ass and paying his way for him, or he was going to be up to his ears in debt once his students loans came due. I didn't favor either option. I walked up the stairs, all the way to the fourth floor, and found his door. A black address hung on the door, "4B". Lifting my hand, I rapped my knuckles against the hard wood, then stepped back and waited. The door was suddenly yanked open, and there was Adam, grinning from ear to ear. "Em! Glad you made it. Sorry I had to push it back. Come on, make yourself at home." I smiled at Adam as I stepped through the threshold, then stopped dead. His place was gorgeous! The floor was hard wood that gleamed, almost as if you could eat off of it. To the left, I could see a door way leading to a dark bedroom. To my right, a sitting room; a black leather couch and loveseat set framed a modern-looking glass table. A large TV sat against the wall on a long, narrow glass television stand. The hardwood floor was covered with a crème colored rug that implied heaven to those who walked on it barefoot. Blood-red throw pillows sat on each corner of the couch, and the empty grey wall had a picture with a modern design on it, mirroring the same red color of the cushions. The kitchen was straight ahead and to the right, across from the living room. A counter jutted out, dividing the two rooms, and cabinets hung above it. The entire counter was an "L" shape, because the entire back wall of Adam's apartment was windows. The city skyline was displayed, in all its glory, from the back wall of his home. Directly across from the kitchen, still in front of the windows, was the eating area. It looked pristine, like it had never been used. A long, glass table filled the empty space, and a total of six chairs surrounded it. The wall directly opposite the kitchen was covered by a large painting of another strange design, still red. Fire and Ice Ch. 02 The entire apartment looked like it was from the pages of a home design magazine. It was spacious, and it seemed to flow together seamlessly. The entire thing reeked of masculinity—not a single article in his entire house implied a woman's presence. Even the throw pillows—normally something a woman would put out—looked like they belonged there. The color scheme should have been dark and dismal, but it wasn't. It worked with the space, somehow, and it definitely fit Adam, which was surprising. He was so friendly, but his place could be construed as cold and withdrawn; still, it fit. "So...you want a drink or something? I can make coffee if you'd like. I also have a bottle of merlot that I haven't opened yet..." Adam was looking at me expectantly, and I got the feeling that he didn't have people over often. Maybe never. I gave him a grin, "Could I just have water?" Adam smiled, almost as if he was embarrassed that he hadn't mentioned it sooner. "Course, Em. Why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable while I get it for you?" I nodded at him as he strode into the kitchen. I could see through the space between the bottom of the cabinets and the top of the counter, and I watched as he pulled a glass from above, dumped a couple cubes of ice into it, and filled it with water. As he walked back to me, I sat on the loveseat, dropping my bag right next to my feet. He came into the living room and placed the glass of water on the table, then sat on the couch perpendicular, angling himself so that he was facing me. For the first time with Adam, the silence was awkward. I didn't really know what to say, so I picked up the glass gingerly and took a sip. It was good. Smiling at him, I set the glass back on the table. Suddenly, we both spoke up at the same time, "Thanks for the..." "Are you ready for..." Blushing, I laughed embarrassedly. He motioned for me to continue speaking, so I did, "I was just going to say 'Thanks for the water'". Adam grinned. "It's no problem, Emma. You know that. I was going to ask if you were ready for our final coming up." I stifled a groan, "I'm seriously freaking out, Adam. I mean, ever since you came along, this stuff has seemed so easy. But you won't be there to talk me through it when I'm taking the final, and I always seem to get horrible test anxiety. So, no, not ready yet, I guess. I probably won't be ready to take it until it's over." Adam gave me a small, supportive grin, "You'll do fine, Em. I've got faith in you." I gave a crooked, nervous grin and took another sip of my water. The fantasies that I had imagined earlier about Adam seemed to all come rushing back at me. I could feel myself starting to blush, just as I could feel the heat start pooling between my thighs once more. Something was seriously wrong with me. There was no excuse. I must have had some disease that turned me on every time I got around Adam. He was looking at me, head tilted slightly, breathing softly. "You ok, Em?" He asked quietly. No. No, I was not okay. Something was wrong with me. I shouldn't have come to his apartment, shouldn't have put myself in this situation. But I nodded at him, shakily reaching for the glass of water to take another sip. It all happened so quickly—my fingers slipped, and I watched as the glass of water slowly fell, it's middle hitting on the edge of the glass table, shattering, pieces of glass, ice, and droplets of water raining into the crème carpet below. I heard myself gasp as I bent down to start picking up the pieces, heard Adam tell me not to worry about it, and heard myself curse when I cut my finger on a shard of glass. I quickly stuck my finger in my mouth, sucking off the pooling blood, then looked up at Adam, ready to make a joke about my clumsiness. His face shocked me. His eyes were dilated—I could barely see the beautiful brown in them anymore. The black pupils had expanded and taken over everything. His mouth was open and he was breathing heavily through it, and, dear lord, I could swear he had...fangs. I blinked a few times, trying to focus my eyes, but Adam had already stood up and started walking quickly to the refrigerator. I heard the sound of liquid pouring, then saw Adam chugging something out of a porcelain coffee mug. He rinsed it out in the sink, then set it on the counter. He rummaged through a cabinet for a second, then returned with a band-aid for me. "Band-aid?" was all he said, and he held it out for me to take. I nodded, taking and unwrapping it with my uninjured hand. I quickly wrapped my finger in the bandage, then put the trash on the coffee table. Adam had come back with a small vacuum and made a motion for me to lift my feet off of the carpet. Working silently, he vacuumed up the mess that I had made, then returned the machine to the closet he had pulled it from. Sitting where he had been before, he looked at me quietly. I tilted my head at him. So many questions were rushing through my mind, but what really had me confused was the look that I could have sworn I saw on his face. I knew that I had seen fangs...but that just wasn't possible. My eyes had been playing tricks on me. It was like the crazy people who claimed that they had seen a UFO. My mind simply refused to believe what my eyes were swearing they had seen. I wasn't crazy! Adam seemed to see the emotions flitting across my face. He sat, his elbows on his knees, and gave a small groan, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, Em." I wasn't really sure what he wanted me to say. What was he sorry for? "It's all good, Adam. No worries. I'm fine." Adam just looked at me, one brow raised in confusion. "All good?" I nodded. "Yeah, it's all good. Look, I have a band-aid now." I waved my injured finger in front of his face and gave a grin. His face was locked on mine—it looked like he was in shock. "Aren't you scared?" I wrinkled my nose. "Scared of what, Adam? A tiny little cut? I'm totally fine. You're overreacting." Anger crossed his face, "No, you're underreacting! You aren't even going to mention it?" Now I seriously felt confused. He couldn't be talking about that little 'fang' episode, could he? Because that wasn't real! My mind had made that up, I was sure of that now. No person had fangs. "What are you talking about, Adam?" "I saw your reaction, Emma! I know you saw me for what I am, don't pretend you didn't! I heard that sharp intake of breath, and I smelled the adrenaline that rushed through your system. If you think you're helping by pretending I'm normal, you aren't!" I couldn't understand why he was yelling at me, and I felt tears rise into my eyes. Hell no! I am NOT going to cry! "I..I really...I don't get it, Adam..." I gulped down the tears. What the fuck was wrong with him? He groaned in frustration, standing up, running his hands through his hair. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to calm himself down, if only slightly. "You saw me, Em. You saw what I am. You saw my fangs. Don't pretend you didn't." His voice had gone deadly soft, and I felt a chill creep up my spine. I stood up, grabbing my bag. "I need to go. This was a bad idea. You...you must not be feeling well, or something." Desperately, I tried to think of excuses for his behavior. I walked around him, around the couch where he had been sitting, and touched the doorknob. Suddenly, he was there. His hand was flat against the door, pressing it shut, and as hard as I pulled, I couldn't get it open. "You can't go, Emma. Not yet." My eyes widened with fear, "Fuck you, Adam! Let me out!" He cringed when I yelled the obscenity at him, but his hand remained on the door. "You don't understand, Em. Please, just wait...I have to tell someone...I can't...you don't understand." His face fell as he repeated those words. As I looked up at him, his eyes met mine. I gasped, unable to pull away. They were filled with pain, loneliness, and desperation. For the first time, I saw what Adam was truly feeling, what that cocky little grin had been hiding all along, and I gasped as the enormity of it all impacted me. "Please, Em. Please stay, just for a little while." I nodded, silently, and pulled my hand from the knob. I allowed myself to be escorted back to the couch and seated. Adam sat next to me, silently, for a moment, and then he spoke up. "I know I must seem insane to you, Em. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just..." he paused for a moment, and then continued. "I can't stand to be alone anymore. It's been so many years...it's been too long. "What you saw back there was my true nature, Emma. I'm not...human. Not anymore, anyways." I heard the pain in his voice, but my shock outweighed what he was saying. He really expected me to believe this? Adam didn't notice my turmoil, and continued, "I used to be human. A long time ago. Not anymore." I gasped, and he looked at me. "What are you then?" His pain-filled eyes met mine, and a harsh whisper issued from his throat, "Haven't you guessed yet?" I just looked at him, my mouth open, my heart beating quickly. "I'm a vampire, Emma. The only one." I opened and shut my mouth a few times before I stood up. "That's not true." Adam just looked down, ashamed. "That's not true! Vampires aren't real, Adam! I don't know what kind of crap you're pulling on me, but this isn't funny, and I've never liked practical jokes! Now stop lying to me and tell me what the hell is really wrong!" Adam's eyes glared at mine before he stood up. My confidence was shaken slightly—he towered over me. Anger filled his eyes. "Fine! Don't believe me! Don't believe what you saw with your own eyes!" "I don't know what you're talking about, Adam! I didn't see anything!" I denied, vehemently. Adam took very quick steps, forcing me back against the wall between the TV and the love seat. "Should I prove it to you, then?" he hissed, and I felt fear creep up and seize my throat. I pressed my palms flat against his chest and tried to push him away, but it was like pushing against a concrete wall. He was hard and unmoving. "Adam...please stop...you're scaring me." I whimpered softly. Adam gave a pained sigh. "Have I ever eaten anything around you, Emma? Have you ever seen me cold? Didn't you see how fast I moved when I went to stop you from opening the door?" He felt me shiver as his words rang true, and he continued, "Wasn't it strange that you had never noticed me before I came up to you? Did you know that I can smell your blood, and it calls to me? Did you know that every time you're aroused, I can smell that too?" He felt me tense up, and he gave a wry chuckle, "Yes, Emma, I know that I turn you on sometimes. And it kills me, because I can't help it. When I make my presence known to a human, my body responds by emitting pheromones to attract them to me. It's how I used to feed. Until blood banks, that is." I gasped up at him, but he still continued. "I've been walking this earth for centuries. I saw horses pull chariots, and carriages, and wagons. I saw when people began riding bicycles for transportation, and I experienced the thrill of the first horseless carriage. But if all of this doesn't convince you, Em, I know something that will." My eyes widened at his words, and I watched as a pair of fangs unsheathed themselves in his mouth, dropping down silently. I trembled as his pupils widened until only a small hazel rim touched the edge of his eyes. I heard a growl issue forth from the back of his throat. Terrified, I squeezed my eyes shut, turning my head away, and his immediately dropped down. I felt his lips press against the vein in my neck as he kissed me there, softly, and then he was gone. I opened my eyes and he was standing in the kitchen, taking deep breaths. He must have felt my gaze because he turned and gave me a wry grin. "Believe me now?" I realized that I had been holding my breath, and I gasped for air. I did believe him now. Adam was a vampire. Which meant I was as good as dead. Fire and Ice Ch. 02 Jason awoke from his drug induced slumber groggy, his head pounding. Looking around, all he could see was black, and a single spotlight illuminating only himself. Clarity came slowly, and he realised when he tried to move that his arms were chained above his head, and his legs shackled to the cement floor. He tried to follow the chains above him to their end, but they disappeared into darkness. He suddenly felt very cold and alone. And he was naked. "Hello?" His deep voice trembled. "Hello?" Louder, angrier. "Where am I!?" his voice echoed into nothing, with only the clink of chains to break the silence. A loud crash. A creak. A grinding of gears. Jason looked intently to the source of the sound, trying to see anything in the inky blackness. Suddenly, across what seemed an eternity, a pillar of light began to widen, and a dark silhouette skulked from it. The white rectangle closed, leaving Jason with the deafening silence, and the fear that someone was watching him, toying with him. "Where are you!?" Jason yelled into the dark but no response came. "Who's there!?" Nothing. He heard footsteps, light, probably a woman's. They were coming closer. A young blonde woman with her head bowed crept into the light. She was clad in a black corset, fishnet stockings and black frilly panties. Around her neck sat a heavily spiked choker collar. Jason wrenched at his chains, trying to lash out at his captor as she continued to approach him. When she came close enough for him to smell her strawberry perfume, she raised her head, and looked at Jason with pleading eyes. He noticed a leash attached to her collar leading back into the darkness. "Please don't yell. She doesn't like it when you yell." Her small voice barely reached him. Snap! The leash became taught, and the pale skinned woman slinked back into the darkness. "Now now Chantelle, let's not be giving our new toy any hints. I want him to learn on his own." The confident and powerful, yet seductively feminine voice resonated in the chamber. Jason began to wonder where he could be. All he knew was that it was big, and smelled of vanilla. In the distance he saw a light. It looked like a little flame, and as it grew it illuminated a large candle. Another pin prick in the distance grew, then another, and another. He was soon surrounded in a perfect circle by a row of candles, and could make out a figure slowly crossing in front of them, circling him. "Chantelle! Oil!" The blonde woman returned, holding a bowl of viscous liquid. Jason knew he was not in a position of strength, and that the creature before him had no bargaining power. He chose to remain silent until he could confront his true captor. Chantelle stood before him, dipping her hand into the oil and watching it drip back into the bowl. She playfully observed it as it strung threads between her fingers. She then looked Jason right in the eye and flashed a wicked smile. She stepped closer, and cupped her hand, filling it with oil. "Mistress likes a prepared servant. You can call this your initiation ritual." She proceeded to slap the oil on Jason's chest, mingling it with his sparse hair. She placed the bowl on the ground, her pale white breasts bunching in the corset. She filled her free hand with oil and joined her other one. Her hands rubbed the oil into his olive skin gently, almost lovingly. Chantelle traced every line on his chest, his abdominals, his ribs. She oiled his arms, his neck. She massaged a small amount into his face and hair. She completely slathered his torso, then crouched to begin work on his legs. Despite the situation, Jason found the sensations quite pleasant, and had to fight to maintain his anger. He reasoned that his cock would be the last thing to receive any attention, the aim to tease him. He felt an oily hand on his balls that sent a shock down his shaft, and he felt blood begin to engorge it. The hand continued, spreading the oil over him, pulling back the foreskin to massage the head. He fought it every step, but Jason's cock became fully erect, seven and a half inches of European glory. Chantelle's ever eager hands stroked and held his cock, grasping for more, more. The leash around her neck cracked, and she reeled back in shock. "No Chantelle. This is his initiation, not your playtime." "I'm sorry mistress. Forgive me." Footsteps echoed, the clomp of high heel on pavement. Jason could barely make out her outline against the candle behind her. He found as it got closer he became less fearful, her presence somehow calming him. She stepped into the light. Jason gazed in wonder at her beauty. She was tall in her heels, always looking down on him through emerald dark, entrancing brown eyes. Her long brown hair flowed luxuriously over her naked shoulders. Clad in a curves-hugging red corset, and matching lingerie, her hands, gloved in red velour, tussled Jason's hair. She clasped his jaw in her hand, wrenching his head from side to side, inspecting her product. Her luscious full lips, coated in a deep red lipstick, smiled excitedly. Her breasts threatened to escape and she breathed deeply. "Yes, yes I will keep you." She removed her hands from him, stepping back and crossing her arms. "Do you remember who I am, boy?" "I do. You are my mistress." She smiled gleefully. "That's right! I took you in from the cold, I gave you food, drink, rest. In return you promised to give me anything I wanted." "I recall." Jason bowed his head, remembering his last encounter with his mistress. He remembered the beating that he deserved. He remembered how she rewarded his behaviour. He remembered her forceful touch on his cock, and it swelled just from the memory. It was an arrangement he did not regret, but did not remember fondly either. He knew he was tricked into being here, drugged, forced, and yet he felt compelled to stay, for now. The Mistress was looking very pleased. "Good, good. Well welcome to initiation, young slave. Here is where you become mine in mind, body, and spirit. Are you ready?" "Yes Mistress." "Excellent, because that was the last choice you'll make in my company. Chantelle!" Chantelle's small form crept into the light. "A reading of the rules please!" "Yes Mistress." The Mistress disappeared behind Jason as Chantelle stood at attention directly in front of him. "One!" Snap! A riding crop was brought down on Jason's bare arse, painfully reminding him that his previous wounds were still healing. He let out a loud yell, screaming his pain into infinity. "Her name is Jessica, but she will be addressed as Mistress or Mistress Jessica. Two!" Snap! The riding crop whipped his back, the Mistress asserting her dominance one pound of flesh at a time. "The Mistress' word is final. You will obey without question. Three!" Snap! Behind his left kneecap he felt the sting of the crop. The Mistress was clearly experienced at her art, choosing the most vulnerable spots to assault. "You belong to the Mistress. She is fair, and if you are good you will have all you could want. Act poorly and bring shame upon her..." Snap! The crop was brought to bear on his other kneecap. The sting caused his legs to buckle and he hung from the chains above him. The Mistress grasped a handful of his hair and tugged his head back. A cold voice hissed in Jason's ear. "...And I will rend your flesh." Chantelle chimed in again. "Do you understand and agree to these rules?" "I accept." Jason weakly relinquished his power and passed out. --- Jason awoke strapped to a familiar table. He was face up, and could feel a cool breeze on his arse where he knew a hole to be cut. His consciousness returning, he looked down to find Chantelle suckling on his stiff cock. He didn't know how long she'd been there, but the pleasure was welcome relief from the beatings. Her head bobbed up and down happily, while a hand gently caressed his balls. Even if Jason wanted to protest, he was tied to the table and unable to move. He relaxed, enjoying the attention, the thrill of a slippery tongue massaging his head. "Enough Chantelle." The familiar commanding voice rang out from the darkness. Mistress Jessica stepped out, leaning over Jason with a stern expression on her face. She grasped his cock and held it firm. Her voice hushed, but still maintained its power over him. "Now, with your mind mine, it is time to tame your body. It is very simple. I am going to bring you to the brink of orgasm, and then I am going to match your pleasure with pain. When you are no longer close, I will repeat it until you beg me to let you finish. And then, when I choose to, you will cum for me. You will cum hard, and then you will meet your final task and relinquish your spirit to me. And so we begin." The Mistress stepped back, Chantelle scurrying behind her. Quickly Chantelle began tugging at the laces that tied the Mistress' corset closed. As it released, falling to the ground before her, she exhaled a long sigh, her breasts finally free. Jason watched in a trance, the spotlight above them casting long shadows from her large, full breasts. He admired every curve, every smooth contour, following them over her toned stomach, tracing the 'V' down towards her waistline. He longed to know what beauty lay concealed behind them, to see every part of her, to worship her. His cock stiffened further, the mere thought of her embracing exhilarating him. "Chantelle. It seems our new subject needs to be re-oiled. Please." Chantelle disappeared into the darkness, returning with the familiar bowl of oil. Placing it on the ground she soaked her hands, proceeding to sensually rub Jason's body, taking great time and care when she reached his shaft. She gently squeezed, motioning her hand up and down along his length, taking care to stroke the head on each pass. Jason lay back, closing his eyes in pleasure, moaning softly at the gentle strokes. Her strokes became harder, faster, and he met her with restrained thrusts. He could feel an orgasm building, and failed to hide it. "Chantelle! To me!" Jason's eyes flashed open as Chantelle's small hands left him. His head tingled with sensitivity, but his orgasm didn't come. He squirmed to face the Mistress, and watched as Chantelle loving removed Mistress Jessica's panties. Jason's eyes lit up as he saw a manicured strip of dark hair pointing to a beautiful pussy, its lips sparkling with wetness. He watched as Chantelle ran her tongue through the hair, continuing slowly to the Mistress' clit. Mistress Jessica drew a sharp breath as Chantelle's tongue ran circles around her bud. Jason stared in agony at the beautiful sight before him, he struggled to touch himself, to give himself relief from the sexual stimulation. Mistress only stared into his eyes and smiled devilishly, Chantelle thrusting her tongue deep inside her, eager to please her master. From behind her, Mistress Jessica produced the riding crop that had so brutalised Jason on their last encounter. She gently rubbed the end up and down Chantelle's back. Snap! She brought it down on her slave. Chantelle gripped the Mistress' buttocks firmly, driving her tongue deeper, exploring her moist depths. Her strokes increased in their ferocity, fighting to give her master what she needed. "Chantelle. Enough." Chantelle withdrew, kneeling in front of her, her head bowed in submission. "I think it's time for a little pain. Chantelle, whips, clamps, now." Once again Chantelle hurried into the darkness, returning with a tray of various toys, whips, restraints, canes, and buckles. She placed the tray at the foot of the table and handed the Mistress a pair of red and black whips. She then picked up two nipple clamps, a chain running between them, and came to Jason's side. She looked at him deeply, standing completely still. Without warning she burst forward, kissing him, trusting her tongue deep into his mouth. "Enough!" Mistress Jessica brought whip down onto Chantelle's shoulder, leaving a pink welt and causing her to recoil in pain. "Hand me the clamps!" Chantelle did as she was bid, presenting the clamps with outstretched hands. The Mistress snatched them quickly, clearly displeased by her slave's conduct. She returned her cold gaze to Jason, a dark look burning in her eyes. She flicked each of his nipples in turn, smiling as they hardened. She fastened each clamp, and tugged on the chain, eliciting an uncomfortable grunt from her new toy. "Excellent!" The Mistress looked him over, her face falling as she saw his softening cock. "No, no, no. That's a bad slave." In one deft movement she jumped up the side of the table, swing a leg over his pelvis, her wet snatch tickling the base of his penis. Instantly, it began to harden, Jason's adrenaline as confused as he was. He felt uncomfortable at her denial of his pleasure. His skin began to burn and he strained against his bonds, the ropes cutting into his arms. His body demanded release, But the Mistress only smiled, placed her hands on his chest and began grinding on his shaft. Every time he began to slip away into pleasure the tugged at the chain between the clamps, brutally dragging him back to reality. She slipped further forward, teasing his head with the decadent entrance to her sex. She slipped over the head, moans coming from the slave. She prodded herself softly, her breasts bouncing softly, never pushing past the tip, watching the muscles on his arms tighten and strain, bringing her immense joy. Just as his climax was imminent, she pulled away, sitting on his oily stomach. His eyes opened wide, a rage building at his temptation. "NO!" Mistress Jessica's voice boomed through the darkness. "No? How dare you order me!" Snap! The whip burnt into his arm. Snap! His other arm felt the whip's full force. Snap! Snap! Snap! Three hits to the chest, dark red marks appearing in their wake. "FORGIVE ME!" Jason screamed in pain, hot tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "You are forgiven." The Mistress' voice was calm, docile. Jason looked down at her and saw her smiling, her luminous face glowing in the spotlight. "That's a good boy. I tell you what. This time. This time you will finish." Jason breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you Mistress. Thank you." "Chantelle." "Mistress?" "Ride him." "Oh thank you Mistress! Thank you, thank you, thank you." Chantelle's face lit up with joy as she tore off her panties and proceeded to toy with Jason's cock, it stiffening in her hands. The Mistress climbed down from the table, allowing Chantelle enough room to straddle the waiting servant. Beside the table, Mistress Jessica leaned in, kissing Jason passionately. Her tongue assaulted his mouth, unrelenting, dominating him even in this. As his eyes closed in exhausted happiness, Jason felt a small hand grasp his cock firmly, lining it up with Chantelle's hot mound. She closed the game and he slipped inside her. She was tight, the pressure squeezing his cock inside her. He felt her muscles clench and unclench as she slid up and down, constantly increasing the speed. She needed this as much as he did. It didn't take long before Jason was on the edge again. The constant and confusing stimulation had put him into overdrive. He thrust as hard as he could against his bindings, moaning heavily through his Mistress' kiss. Chantelle's bouncing was taking Jason to heights he had never been before. His orgasm continued to build, and he was almost ready to explode with passion. Mistress Jessica pulled away. Confident in her nudity, she smiled the most terrifying smile Jason had ever seen. Her hand was planted firmly on her pussy and she was rubbing it frantically. Her long brown hair was matted over her face, the picture of a sexual demon. "Oh no," thought Jason, "Please. No." "Chantelle!" She cried out in a panting and husky voice. "ENOUGH!" Chantelle removed herself from him immediately, leaving him with a knot at the base of his cock. He thrashed against the straps that held him down, squirming almost seizure-like on the table, roaring into the spotlight with all his might. "Mistress! Please, I beg you! Please!" The Mistress could not hear him. she had fallen to her knees, her eyes had rolled back and she was riding the hardest orgasm she had experienced in some time. Hot lightning shot through her, waves of pure pleasure crashed over her. Her juices flowed from her down her legs, and Chantelle eagerly bent down to lap them up, licking and nibbling her master's thighs. Mistress Jessica bent over double, each throbbing shockwave more powerful then the last. As her orgasm subsided, and she allowed Chantelle to clean her up, she stretched backward, breathing heavily, her breasts hugging the sky. Her nipples stood at attention, basking in the white glow of the spotlight, warming her soul. She calmed, she sighed, and she returned her focus to her subject, now exhausted and silent. She stood up and walked over to him. She reached down to kiss his lips, enjoying his servitude. "You see Jason, you are mine. Your mind is mine. Your body is mine. And now, I hold all the pieces of your spirit. Stay with me, and we will do great things. I will return for you later. Chantelle!" Chantelle leapt to attention and follows Mistress Jessica into the darkness. The pillar of light at the end of the room slid open, and two exhausted, but satisfied, figures walked into the light, the door closing behind them. Jason looked up into the spotlight. His fears were gone. His cares were gone. He knew only of the Mistress, and that she would provide for him. He felt warm, relaxed, glowing. He smiled as he wondered what was in store for him.