Title: Into the Fray, Unflinching
Author: gldngr7
Rating: Explicit
Began: April 21, 2017
Chapters: ?
Feedback: Encouragement and constructive criticisms are always welcome. Flames are destroyed with my freeze breath.
Author's Notes: Extreme explicitness. in regards to sexual behavior. BDSM. Please read responsibly. You've been warned.
Chapter 11/?
The thing about mirrored rooms, is that there are no secrets and there's always a view to be found. Even standing at the armoire, Mon-El has a view of the bed – of his Senya – the entire time, through a series of reflections. Unaware of his scrutiny, he observes unobtrusively from a distance, watching the Adept awaken her from unconsciousness. Half-heartedly, he rifles through and discards clothing and other garments as he catalogues her current state. Golden hair soaked dark with sweat, perspiration still clinging to her body, and the slackened, drowsy look on her face all serve to make her appear all used up. Which only makes him want to use her more.
He wonders if it's simply her – if it's just that he's insatiable for her – or if it's the Callus Band's influence. Casting a glance at some of the others in the room; Lady Max, Praetarch Don-Ec, and Lalla Han, Mon-El feels only a mild desire to fuck them, but with the Kryptonian, it's an entirely different compulsion.
He smiles as Ral intercepts the tray of food meant for his pet, and watches unobtrusively as their conversation unfolds, though he can hear nothing they say. Her body language, the way she flushes and leans in, indicates an undeniable attraction, and it appears that Ral's unstoppable charm will have her lowering her Kryptonian defenses in record time. Of course, despite her Kryptonian upbringing, she has a truly beautiful, wanton need for cock and that will only work to Ral's advantage. The thought of watching Ral fuck her, his pet writhing in ecstasy as his bond-brother comes inside of her, thrills him in a way he can't begin to explain. All of the best things in life, they have shared together.
He expected that this might take time, since she only seemed willing to lower her defenses for her master, but the way she's sucking on Ral's fingers right now, tells another tale.
Perhaps sending her away is not the best idea, Mon-El ruminates. It is clear that none of his attempts to dominate her to her limit have worked, none have brought the word 'mercy' to her lips, and he doubts anything will at this point. It is not the sex that will drive her away, that appears to only drive her closer because, in that, they seem completely compatible. Rather, the secrets he keeps so carefully hidden from her are now more likely to provide the impetus needed for her to go. If he's being honest with himself, this entire exercise has been little more than smoke and mirrors, hiding his true secret from her. Now all he needs is to find the courage to show her the truth. He'll start small, with the least of his horrors, his mistakes, and work his way up from there.
Right after he gets this excruciating Callus Band to disengage.
Choosing a garment of interest, a submissive harness, he tests its strength, pulling its scaly leather bands taut to ensure no weakness. It will pinch her in all the right places, press into her flesh and leave marks, each one a reminder of the master that commands her to wear it. Flipping through a rack of hanging gowns he finds the one that appears to match the harness and pulls it down.
Anticipating his need, the Adept steps up to his side and awaits his instruction. Mon-El hands her the harness first. "When Lord Ral has finished offering her refreshment…and arousing her interest…see that she's harnessed."
"Yes, Your Highness. And the rules?" Viona curtsies.
"Master's rules, of course," he answers without hesitation. "Here is the gown. Have it taken to my Senya chambers when we're done here. And I shall leave it to you to find an acceptable handmaiden for her. One well-versed in the tender needs of a Senya."
"As you will." Viona takes the flimsy gown and tucks it away to follow his instructions later.
His cock screaming for relief, he distracts himself by ambling over to the peg wall with the Adept, pointing at a few items. If he's going to lose this challenge, then he's damn well going to plan a strategy for his next move, for her pleasure and for his. Intent on applying the next step of the punishment he owes her for coming without his permission, at first he unhooks a sizeable anal plug, but then a rather imposing looking instrument catches his attention instead. He muses the possibilities of employing it. Just the sight of it could terrify her enough to see reason, but on the chance that it doesn't, it could bring both of them satisfaction, perhaps quieting the special needs that clamor in both of them.
Replacing the anal plug on the wall, he hands the Adept the instrument. "And this," he indicates. "See that it's prepared for her use."
Viona bows, taking the device without even a flinch at its appearance.
"Oh, and one more thing," he calls before she can scurry away to do his bidding. "She needs a collar – a training collar. One that befits her station as the Senya to the Crowned Prince."
"Code Lock, Your Highness?"
"Level Three."
Satisfied that he is prepared, Mon-El catches a glimpse of Ral suckling on the nipple of his pet, to which she seems quite receptive. Were it another man, he might rage at the thought of her allowing such freedoms behind his back, but Ral knows his mind, and would never betray him. Even now, Ral pulls away from her breast, seeking no further entrenchment out of respect for him, and departs the field, his cock still painfully at full staff. Catching his eyes in the mirror as Ral hands the tray to the male servant, he winks at him, letting him no he had seen the whole display and approved. Ral winks back, indicating that he was aware the entire time.
On the bed, need pulsing through her, courtesy of Lord Ral, Kara is ready for distraction when Viona comes to her, holding what looks to be a mess of black, scaly leather strips. "Viona?" she inquires, curiously.
"Senya," she curtsies. "Your master asks that you wear this."
"He asks?"
"He commands," Viona corrects.
"That's more like it," Kara replies, a slow smile spreading across her face.
"If you would stand, Senya?"
"Of course." On her hands and knees, Kara crawls to the end of the bed, her legs nearly collapsing from beneath her when she attempts to stand. Viona assists her as it takes a moment to find her lands leg again. No sooner does she stand up straight, Kara is reminded why she sat on the bed with her thighs squeezed so tightly together, when she feels dribble of her master's cum trailing down her thigh. Bending down, she wipes at, tries to push it back inside, but knows it's a losing battle, so she loses it.
"Would like a towel?" Viona asks.
"No," she responds quickly, almost before the last vowel leaves Viona's mouth. "Master wouldn't like that." She'll just have to let it drip until she can get back on the bed.
As though to distract the distressed Senya, Viona reaches for a goblet from a passing tray and hands it Kara. "Perhaps you should take another glass of restorative."
"That's not a bad idea." Plucking the goblet from Viona's hand, Kara knocks it back, drinking the entire contents in one breath.
Fiddling with the leather bindings for a moment, Viona figures out which end is up, before bending down and indicating where that Kara should step. Only as Viona drags the binding up her body does Kara realize it's a harness. Cool metal rings, each about an inch in diameter, hold the leather strips together in strategic places; across her belly and ribcage, and around her hips. Two strips of leather, travel from the single ring at her belly button, between her legs to another ring that nestles in the middle of her dimples where her lower back curves into her ass.
His cock burning to be inside of her, Mon-El wanders over to the bed, sitting on the edge, a chalice of blue liquid in one hand. Draining his drink, just as she does hers, he sets the empty goblet on the platform extension to be retrieved later. Picking up the heavy cock between his legs, he grips and squeezes it, pumping it with long, slow draws that pay careful attention to the weeping head. Leaning back on his elbows, he watches lazily as the Adept dresses his pet in her new garment.
Slipping her arms through the spaces where the Adept indicates, her breasts pop through diamond shaped spaces formed by short leather strips and metal rings. At several locations on the harness, the rings are met with buckles, allowing the adjustment in size and stricture of the trappings. Meticulously, Viona begins adjusting buckles until the leather stresses into her skin, the rings promising to create red circles on her flesh. Tightening the buckle at her back, the twin strips of leather originating from her belly button, tighten to pinch her vulva together when she stands with her thighs closed. Spread her legs slightly and bands slip into her seam, placing pressure on her clit. However, there is enough give in the strips to pull them apart so that his cock can get between them. Two delicious ways of wearing the center strips so that she will be sexually aroused with the simplest of movement, either by pleasure or by pain. Her choice.
After the last buckle is adjusted, and she takes a moment to question how cinching her body so tightly in can make her feel empowered and sexy and, ironically, in control. Viona slips a shiny, polished collar around her neck, the inside lined with plush red velvet, moving Kara's hair aside to bring the ends together in the back, until there's a hiss and a click, locking her in. Kara's fingers find the texture of smooth metal and a four leash rings, one on each side of her neck, and she buzzes inside as though he has given her gift she's always wanted. As her final act, Viona replaces the dangling nipple clamp, left behind by Lord Ral, positioning the clamp back where it belongs, the chains draping in a perfect arc outside of the rigging.
Their eyes meet as her fingers study the texture of the collar and slide down to test the tautness of the harness. Leaning back on his elbow, he hunts her with his eyes, imagines himself the predator and her the prey upon whom he will pounce when she least expects. His ass clenches at the thought of rolling her onto her stomach and driving into her wet pussy from behind, driving and driving until he spills inside of her. He watches, as another stream of his spunk trickles down her leg, every intention of replacing it running through his head.
The harness and the collar are a greater gift to her than anyone knows, perhaps even Mon-El himself. He's giving up the game and accepting defeat. They are his white flag on the field, an acceptance that she isn't going anywhere, at least not today. With these, he claims her with more than words and seed. He claims her so that all can see she is his, and why would he do that if he didn't expect her to stay. Caressing the collar with her fingers, Kara thinks about how to gift him in return, but recognizes that her body, her surrender, her worship, is all the gift she has to give.
Making her way over to him, she drops to her knees on the platform before him, his legs spreading to make more room for her. Sitting back on her haunches, she grips at his well-defined thighs and leans forwards, nuzzling into his nest with her nose. Finding her target, she wraps her lips around one of his testicles and suckles it, the way he does her breast. She can feel a slight pulsing coming from the Callus Band and matches its rhythm.
"Vartine," he curses, his head dropping back as she moves on to the next testicle.
Next, she kisses her way up his colossal cock, taking a moment to study it for the first time since it reached full size. The skin around it is so thin, she can see the pulsing of red and blue veins beneath, can feel the pulse on her lips when she kisses it, her eyes tilting upward to meet his, until they drift close, a mixture of bliss and need swimming through him. Between her legs, her fingers separate the leather bands pressing into her thrumming clit.
In a swift move, while his eyes are still closed, she gains her feet, straddles his legs and crabs his cock as though she's taking it hostage. Not interested in any teasing or giving him an unsatisfactory blow job that only results in an aching jaw for her, she aligns his dick with her entrance and sinks down. Down and down, her tight cunt protesting his girth but surrendering to each glorious inch of satin-wrapped steel, until she's his scabbard, taking him in to the hilt. It burns through her like fire, but at the same time it feels so good she could die from the rapture of it.
"Uuuunnngghh," they groan in unison when their connection is secure. Observing audience members applaud quietly and murmur their approval.
When her passage has adjusted to his presence, Kara leans forward, her hands grasping for his shoulders as she begins undulating her hips, riding his cock in the small increments this position will allow. Breathless with pleasure again, it's as if it hasn't been less than an hour since he's been right where he is now. In no rush to climax for the moment, just enjoying the hot slide of her scorching pussy on his aching member, he lets her ride him for long breathless moments of building pleasure. Eyes drifting partially closed in response to the bliss her tight, hot cunt provides him, he watches her ride his tool through lids at half-mast.
"You like that cock, don't you, Pet?" he slurs, fingers leaving behind marks as they dig into the globes of her superb ass. With incrementally ravenous intent, he guides her up and down his rod, periodically slapping her ass while gripping it tightly as she throws back her head, hips moving with increasing wildness in response to his roughness.
"Yes, yes, yes, Master," she answers with a blissful smile, quite pleased with herself. Lifting up on her tiptoes, she increases the tempo, raising herself a few more inches before dropping down to the hilt again. But after a few moments, she begins to look for a new position, a new sensation. She lifts her knees as close to her chest as their position will allow, forcing him to hold her steady. Straightening her legs, she slides them on to the bed, and reaches for his shoulders for the leverage she needs to keep moving. "Will you…touch me, Master?" she asks, bravely.
"What would you like, Pet?"
"Suck me," she says, simply…hopefully.
Nodding, he removes the clamps, tosses them aside and bends over to take her nipple in his mouth. She's accommodating enough to arch her back for him and somewhere in the middle of the process, his hands hold fast to her hips while his pelvis joins her efforts, his cock meeting her pussy with greater force.
"Pleaseohpleaseohplease…" she begs, her fingers diving into his hair, holding him there, anchoring her to the paradise he provides. But she's not even sure what she really wants until he asks.
"You want me to take over?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
"Yes, Master," she concedes, when his mouth goes back to her nipple, using his lips, teeth and tongue to bring her nearer to her approaching climax. "Thank you," she cries, hands fisting his hair. "Thank you."
"For what?" he wonders, switching to the other breast.
Breathlessly, she answers, "For your gifts." Hips still churning against his.
After another moment of sucking her nipple to a hard peak, he sits up and drags her mouth to his, owning it with his tongue and lips until her chest is heaving in its search for air. "Would you like me to show you one way to use it?"
"Yes," she answers, her hips still rolling like a wave over his, even though he isn't buried deep. Even if he can't pillage her, she moves to spark the nerves butted up against his dick. "Yeah…yeah…yeah," she keens with each roll of her hips.
"All right, I will, but first I'm going to need you to do something for me."
"Anything," she moans. "Anything."
"Tell me how hard you want me to fuck you," he cajoles. Cupping her breast and squeezing one turgid nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he twists it ruthlessly before bending down to soothe it, by sucking it into his mouth.
"Oh…oh…oh," she moans, hands gripping at the unyielding hardness of his flesh. "I want you to fuck me so hard, Master…Sweet Rao! I want you to…oh…ahh…fuck me…so hard I feel it for weeks afterward. I'm getting close," she adds breathlessly. "Are you getting close?"
"Not yet. I'll need to fuck you harder than this to be close. And you're not allowed to come until I say so."
Not quite able understand why he would let her go slow when he needs to orgasm, she breathlessly begs, "Fuck me…oh fuck…oh yeah…fuck me hard enough to come, Master. As hard as it takes." A smattering of applause greets this request.
He digs his fingers beneath the strips of leather that wind from her breast, under her armpit and around to her back. It's a tight fit, so he knows she'll get more stimulation than just the feeling of his cock inside of her. His muscled thighs quivering with the effort, he stands up from the bed until she's impaled on him, only his cock and the hands on her harness holding her up. When her legs lift he warns, "Don't put your legs around my waist. Tuck in," he groans. "Put your knees against my elbows."
She does as instructed and with that, her whole world turns upside down. Observers, draped naked across lounges or sprawled on the floor, are now on the ceiling, applauding their prince's bold move. Her hair dangling above her head, scraping the ceiling as well. Disoriented, one might think gravity a myth, were not the shoulder straps of her harness digging in deep to support her.
"Whoa," she says, a nervous giggle escaping.
"Hands on the ground," he commands.
Her hands, which had been flailing for purchase without quite knowing where to go, land on the ground and she pushes back, taking some of the pressure off his arms – but also, she realizes with a gasp, it pushes his cock deeper into her. With a full giggle, she understands that he means to fuck her upside down. Her legs, search for a roost that will provide the most leverage and least inconvenience, but finding none, she just opens them as wide as she can, bending them at the knees.
Gripping doggedly to the harness, he pulls out of her and then slams back in, yanking her body back upon his aching dick. It doesn't take long to find a way to work together. Trusting that he won't let her fall, she bends her arms as he retreats, straightening them as he plunges to add a little extra oomph with his penetration. They can't go fast, but they can go hard, and from their place on the ceiling, the audience applauds the sideshow they create. Kara reminds herself to give them a bow when they're done.
"Uunngghh…uunngghh…uunnngghh…." He roars with each thrust, thankful for the restorative that replenished him to some degree, though he knows he won't last long at this. His grunts are met with a high-pitched shriek from her until she begins, to his chagrin, calling for the Kryptonian god that has nothing to do with pleasuring her.
"OhRao…oh…oh Rao!" Kara shouts, her pitch rising as each thrust of his cock seems to hit her special spot – the one that makes her squirt. And Holy Rao! Her arms are going to hurt in the morning. "Are you…close?
He can the feel the build, feel the energy gathering at the base of his spine and the buzz then flows through his scrotum and testicles and then up and up, spreading to every part of his skin.
"Tell me what you want, Pet," he growls, jolting her back onto his cock over and over, his biceps and forearms straining with the effort. "Say it…."
"Put your cum inside me, Master. Your cum…can make me…come too!"
"Show me," he demands, both challenging and giving her permission at the same time. Pounding her harder using the combination of his pelvic thrust, pulling back on her reins and the additional upwards thrust she provides, he takes a few more lunges until the dam breaks. His entire body convulses with release, as though he's touched a live wire and become a conduit for electricity. Hot cum gushes into her, and the flood of seed mixed with the head of his cock striking her G-Spot extra hard has her squirting all over his dick.
Losing his mind at the feel of her stream of cum ejaculating on his cock, he yanks up on the harness and drops to his knees, guiding them both to the floor. Mon-El covers her body, pinning her to the floor, his chest flattening her breasts, her legs wide open and weary arms splayed out. Rutting mindlessly into her like a beast, he focuses only on emptying as much of himself as he can into her. His lizard brain seems to think that her cum means she's ripe for planting and will be told no differently. Pounding into her, the sound of skin slapping together as his hips pummel hers, he chases the promise of another release, another chance to put his scion into her.
She chants encouragements in that pleading tone that drags him into madness. His body locks up on his next dig.
"Uuuunnnnghh," he grunts, head buried in the crook of her neck, as he spurts another heavy well-earned stream. "Take that," he grounds out between clenched teeth, hips still pumping.
"Mmmmmmm," she moans, her fisting pussy drinking him all in, every drop he can give her. "More," she pleads, her lips against his ear, sliding her hands down his back to cup his ass. Her fingernails digging into skin as he plunges back in like an unstoppable juggernaut.
As if capitulating to her demand, his muscles clench as he drives into her, one last jet of cum forcing its way out of him. When it's finished, his entire body melts on top of her, the power of his climax sweeping her. Mon-El floats in the fog of his mind while his Kryptonian whore's hands slide soothingly up and down his back, even as her pussy ripples around his damnably unquenchable cock, her breath heavy in his ear.
And again, it doesn't take long for the Callus Band to send his cock the signals to continue, but rather than fuck his concubine into the ground right here, Mon-El pulls out, to her vocal disappointment. Never in his life has he had a lover so covetous of what he has to give, so insatiable. Or perhaps it's her stubbornness willingly allowing herself to be fucked to death before throwing the white flag. Damn her!
Standing over her, legs shaking, arms and back depleted from exertion, his dewy cock protrudes painfully from between his legs. Gripping it, he shakes and massages the tool until another squirt splashes on her chest, followed quickly by another across her face. "Stop calling for that Kryptonian god of yours," the prince commands. "I'm your god, now. You will scream only for your master."
Dripping their combined fluids all over her face, chest and tummy, Kara doesn't mind the warm mess, or his obvious display of dominance; blissfully watching him tower over her as she caresses the fluids into her skin with one hand while the other maintains constant contact with him. Her hair splays out on the floor beneath her like a Vartine's glory drifting beautifully underwater. "Yes, master."
"Crawl over to the bed," he commands, shaking more of the sticky mess from his phallus onto her. "Crawl for me."
Rolling onto her stomach, she pushes herself to her hands and knees using arms already on the edge of exhaustion. From her position on the floor, she recognizes a pair of shoes, her gazes following up his calves and legs until it reaches his face to find Lord Ral looking down at her, eyes gleaming, cock as rock hard as ever. His eyes rake over her nude, wrecked form, cum dripping from between her legs and smearing every part of her, hair soaked with sweat, and he smiles gently at her.
"Crawl!" her master commands, his palm landing solidly against her backside. Her spine arches at the jolt of it, but a smile slowly spreads across her face as the sting turns into a warm glow. Her eyes meet Lord Ral's once more, letting him know that the spanks are welcome.
"Yes, Master," she purrs, turning around and crawling back towards the bed, flaunting her pink, wet parts for both of them. Reaching her destination, he instructs her to lay face down on the bed, her knees on the platform, spread wide, her hands on the bed beside her head.
Observing as she assumes her position, the Adept offers him the implement chosen from the wall earlier, having prepared it with copious amounts of lubrication. "Well done," he approves. Viona blushes and then bows before backing away.
Glancing behind her, while attempting to maintain the position prescribed for her, Kara catches sight of the instrument her master plans to use next. She would be lying to herself if she said it didn't look like a medieval torture device. Wondering if this is it…if this is the implement she can't handle, she feels a thrill of fear race through her and, taking a deep breath, she grips obstinately to the bed's coverlet. "I will not cry out', she vows in her own mind. 'I will not be frightened'.
Made of metal, from all appearances the implement is a giant hook of some kind, her prince looking for all the world as though he plans to go shark hunting. Instead of a sharp point on the end on the hook, there's a silver end slightly smaller than a tennis ball that he seems to be carefully examining. At the top of the hook, there's a circlet threaded with a cord of some sort, its purpose not yet determined. Turning her head on the mattress, her eyes seek Lord Ral, as if searching for comfort and reassurances from him. Thankfully, she finds it there, in soft green eyes and a blonde head that nods reassuringly towards her.
Mon-El smiles at the sight of her bending over the bed, her pussy wet and waiting for him. Fear pours from her skin like sweat as she seeks solace from his bond-brother, who is more than willing to provide it, judging by the expression on his face. He should like to give them both a taste soon. The heavy hook in his hands demands to be used and he owes her a punishment, which is what happens to whores who come on their master's cocks without permission.
From behind her, he instructs, "Spread your ass wide."