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THIS CONTAINS HUGE SPOILERS FOR HIS TALISMAN
NSFW
Charity gets to see Emme again (from His Talisman). This bonus also ties up some loose ends in a more satisfying way, and there is a long scene at a CNC Fraternity castle.
THIS CONTAINS HUGE SPOILERS FOR HIS TALISMAN
NSFW
Charity gets to see Emme again (from His Talisman). This bonus also ties up some loose ends in a more satisfying way, and there is a long scene at a CNC Fraternity castle.
Copyright © Cari Silverwood 2022 of this bonus ending for His Talisman.
Reproduction of this content not permitted without written permission from the author.
HIS TALISMAN ON AMAZON
THE BOTANIC GARDENS
CHARITY
To say I was feeling anxious would be the least of this. I was hiding, I suppose, inside this immense greenhouse, looking out through the slightly dirty lower panes at Emme. She was wandering between the manicured trees and topiary shrubs alongside a wide pathway. Perhaps she knew I was here and was also anxious? We’d not seen each other for almost six months, not since I had supposedly died in a violent fashion.
She looked like my old Emme—petite, blonde, and elegant, in a flowing pink, chiffon-and-lace dress and little boots. Her hair was longer, though, and fell in a tousled fan down her back to her waist.
Yet she couldn’t be the same, and neither could I, for far too much had happened to us.
It had taken Hulk this long to arrange a meeting. Her Doms were secretive and nervous of her being seen in public. A little like me and mine, really.
Anywhere in the United Kingdom was iffy territory for both of us. My biometric recognition had been wiped, but acquaintances and friends were out there. It was even possible that my so-called family might trip over me in public spaces. I could imagine someone going pale and shocked, then exclaiming, Charity! Aren’t you dead? Which was why this place was our chosen meeting ground. It belonged to a CNC Fraternity member.
This member had a taste for refurbished estates with botanical gardens, groundskeepers, and random statues of victorious soldiers, fairies, and stallions begrimed by black mildew.
A robin fluttered in and landed on the other side of the glass of the greenhouse. It cocked its head and eyed me, then Emme seemed to spot me through the glass.
I rocked back on my white, cast-iron chair, and it bogged on the ground, so I stood and waved. She found the greenhouse door, pushed it open, and entered, smiling.
“Emme! Didn’t you know I was in here?”
“They told me you’d be waiting by the greenhouse, not inside it.” She gestured upward at the three-story-high vaulted dome with the thousands of glass panes. “Isn’t this glorious? From outside it’s even more spectacular.”
“Very much so.” I waved to the tall black-suited lady I’d prepped with an order. “They’re bringing us tea, scones, clotted cream, and jam,” I told Emme. “You still like scones?”
Since we might both be vacating the country soon, forever, I figured it was the right send-off food.
“Of course, girl. Though maybe we should’ve had milkshakes to commemorate?”
It took me a second, but I did make the connection—that night at the café when she went off and met her wanker Dom and got kidnapped for real.
“Bad idea.” Emme’s smile came and went in a flash, leaving only a lingering reminder before sadness sifted in. It melted the rest of her smile and the cheerfulness in her eyes. “You’re okay, Charity? After all this…you know?” Tears were threatening, judging by the shine lipping her eyelids.
“I’m okay.” I leaned in for a long, fervent hug. I squeezed her tightly and sighed. “I hope you are too. That night on the ship, it was one shitty occasion.”
“Yeah. It was shitty. I couldn’t forgive myself for involving you,” she whispered, staring at me. Grief bled from every line on her face, from the little catch in her voice as she spoke. She must have heard what they did to me. “I thought you were dead for so long.” She sniffed and her hug intensified, for a moment, before she stepped away. “My guys helped me. They really get me, and please don’t think I’m still hurt. Or not now I have seen you. Fuck though, I was worried about you.”
Except this hurt scarred. I’d learned to live with my scars. I resisted reaching up and touching my eyebrow where I’d been stitched.
“Me, too, times a thousand. My…” I’d been told not to tell her Hulk’s or Cassius’s name. “My men helped me recover. I have times it flashes back, but I can weather it. My world is turning the right way, now I’ve seen you in the flesh. As for your Doms? I call them your fucktard Doms.” I smirked.
Emme bit back a snort. “I am so telling them.”
“You do that. Want to go for a walk in here? I’ve peeked and there is a pond with man-eating lily pads from the Amazon, or so I gather.” The sign had been delightfully wacky. The owner, the gardener, or both, were a little out there.
“Sure.” She held out her hand, and for a while we walked hand in hand, talking as we negotiated the winding pathways. The green house’s footprint was large enough to fit two houses inside it. “Can I ask where you are living?” she finally ventured. Can I visit you?”
“No.” I grimaced.
Hulk had decided the island was too much our home to be risked with some CNC members, especially Axl. He didn’t trust Axl. That had made me question him further. Hulk had assured me Axl was okay with Emme, just not with anything else. That hadn’t been one hundred percent satisfying for me, but I’d mulled it over. I’d decided it would do. Some people were tempted by money and power more than was wise. Axl was probably one of those.
“Maybe not ever, Emme, but I have some news for you that might be better.”
“Oh.” She looked at the gravel pathway, as if an answer lay there. “I’d hoped I could see you again. I’m limited in where I can go.”
“Because you’re supposed to be dead, yes.” I almost held back from saying the next part, but my wish to make her happier made me reckless. “That part is being fixed, maybe.”
“What?” She stopped. “How?”
“My…” What did I call them? “My men are able to adjust things to make you a new identity and to allow you to leave the UK, if your Doms agree.”
If they didn’t, this news would only make Emme sadder. I should have waited until this was signed, sealed, and delivered, and Hulk had told me so, yet I hadn’t.
What would I do if this fell through? Kick myself, for starters. Then I’d go weep. I couldn’t remain quiet when Emme was this unhappy.
“If? That would be awesome.” Her eyebrows almost did a dance—her worry manifesting, clearly. “What’s the catch?”
“If you do this, you can’t return here, to this country. It’s not enough to guarantee you won’t be recognized in the UK.”
“I see.”
“The plus in this is we can see each other almost anywhere else in the world—Europe, South America, Australia, Antarctica, take your pick.”
“Ohmigod! Yes!” She calmed a little, swinging my hand then releasing it to cover her mouth. “I think? It depends on Axl and Grayson.”
“I figured it would. Let’s hope they agree.”
Wherever they were, doc had said they would be told of this while I spoke to Emme.
“So, good times ahead?” I said that while observing my bestie and wondering how different we were.
I could live forever and ever. I would have to watch her grow old, and I couldn’t tell her any of this. I couldn’t say it would happen, or how, or why. Nothing. That made me grieve before grieving was warranted. My future would be a contrast of joy and tragedy. Finally, I understood why one might become bitter and jaded.
After a few years, ten or fifteen, maximum, according to doc, I’d have to forget my friends, move away from them, or else appear strange and unearthly due to my lack of ageing.
That day is not today.
“You’ve a limp?” Emme pointed at my leg.
“Ummm, yes. I do.” I stared at my leg, as if it’d only just done it. “Nothing serious. It may heal.” The dent of frown lines above her nose suggested she was doubtful. “It wasn’t from anything my men did.” Could I say I was shot? I guess not. “It’s nothing.”
“Okaaay. If I see you again after this, I will be taking notes. If they harm you, they’ll answer to me.”
I chuckled. “As if they would.” Well, okay, I was hedging there, but the hurts they gave me were temporary. “You’re one to talk. I know what you get up to.”
The strain of not being fully truthful with Emme was already weighing on me.
She scoffed.
I eyerolled dramatically, shook my head. “I remember what you told me about Axl and Grayson. Some of it.” Some I’d been told by doc. Again, what could I disclose that I knew?
“The scones and tea have arrived! I am so hungry.” She tugged me back toward the table and chairs. “Starving with a big huge S.”
“But, but, we haven’t seen the man-eating plants, yet.” The pile of scones and the little mountains of cream and jam were beautifully presented. My mouth watered. “Fuck, the man-eating. Scones it is. I’ll just force myself.”
“Keep going with that, and I’ll grab them all for me.”
We seated ourselves, shooed away the help, and poured our tea, before slathering the scones with the jam and cream.
“Mmm.” Emme gobbled half a scone down in one bite, leaving a blob of cream on her nose. She promptly wiped it off and sucked it from her finger. Then she sat back and placed her hands on the table, palms down, staring at me. “This is almost too normal.”
I placed my cup on the saucer with a rattling clink. “I know, I know. We will see each other again. No matter what else happens, I can make it real.”
“Okay. Fuck, that is more than okay. If my guys agree, we can go out in public together again?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to hope madly for that then, and to us seeing each other in… Where did you suggest? Brazil?”
“Or Paris?”
“Paris. Oh my.”
I swallowed more tea and started on my scone, taking a bite, and savoring the perfection. They were delicious, light, and the cream was to die for, as I’d expected. The rich never stinted on quality if they could help it.
Maybe I couldn’t tell Emme everything that had happened to me, and maybe she would never get to see Cassius or Hulk, but it was okay. We would meet again, somehow.
“You won’t be at this CNC party, this weekend?” I tried to sound as if it meant little.
“No. Not this one.”
I nodded. I’d known she wouldn’t be. I’d seen the list and the location. I had an aversion to seeing her at the same party. I’d probably want to run in and stop whatever she was participating in. Her tastes in kink ran far wilder than mine.
I considered that some more. Or did they? I had changed and learned about my limits, and yes, they were almost as wild.
I leaned forward and raised my teacup. “Here’s to us meeting in Paris, and in Rio and…and Sydney, and Hawaii.”
She clinked her cup lightly against mine, her eyebrows rising. “All those?”
“All. It shall happen. Abracadabra.”
“Hell yeah.” Emme’s grin spread and livened her eyes. “The Carnival in Rio, the Eiffel Tower, and all those deadly spiders and koalas in Australia, here we come!”
Now this was the girl I knew.
“To the drop bears in Oz.” I raised my cup and took a gulp. “Next toast will be in champagne, wherever we are.”
“To the next toast. Deal. Ohmigod, Charity, you’re working magic.”
“I hope so.” God, I fucking hoped so. It wasn’t me; it was Hulk. I just prayed her men didn’t have some desperate need to stay here, forever. I needed my friend as much as she needed me. My joy at seeing her happy…it was indescribable. I swiped at my own eyes while she was dabbing at hers.
And what if I got this wrong?
Please, please, let it happen.
My cellphone tinkled, and I pulled it from my jeans pocket, heart thudding as I wondered what I would read.
Hulk: It’s done. Tell Emme her guys agreed to this.
With my thumb over his name, I turned the phone and showed her the screen. “Shazam.”
Her squeal probably came close to shattering the whole greenhouse.
To say I was feeling anxious would be the least of this. I was hiding, I suppose, inside this immense greenhouse, looking out through the slightly dirty lower panes at Emme. She was wandering between the manicured trees and topiary shrubs alongside a wide pathway. Perhaps she knew I was here and was also anxious? We’d not seen each other for almost six months, not since I had supposedly died in a violent fashion.
She looked like my old Emme—petite, blonde, and elegant, in a flowing pink, chiffon-and-lace dress and little boots. Her hair was longer, though, and fell in a tousled fan down her back to her waist.
Yet she couldn’t be the same, and neither could I, for far too much had happened to us.
It had taken Hulk this long to arrange a meeting. Her Doms were secretive and nervous of her being seen in public. A little like me and mine, really.
Anywhere in the United Kingdom was iffy territory for both of us. My biometric recognition had been wiped, but acquaintances and friends were out there. It was even possible that my so-called family might trip over me in public spaces. I could imagine someone going pale and shocked, then exclaiming, Charity! Aren’t you dead? Which was why this place was our chosen meeting ground. It belonged to a CNC Fraternity member.
This member had a taste for refurbished estates with botanical gardens, groundskeepers, and random statues of victorious soldiers, fairies, and stallions begrimed by black mildew.
A robin fluttered in and landed on the other side of the glass of the greenhouse. It cocked its head and eyed me, then Emme seemed to spot me through the glass.
I rocked back on my white, cast-iron chair, and it bogged on the ground, so I stood and waved. She found the greenhouse door, pushed it open, and entered, smiling.
“Emme! Didn’t you know I was in here?”
“They told me you’d be waiting by the greenhouse, not inside it.” She gestured upward at the three-story-high vaulted dome with the thousands of glass panes. “Isn’t this glorious? From outside it’s even more spectacular.”
“Very much so.” I waved to the tall black-suited lady I’d prepped with an order. “They’re bringing us tea, scones, clotted cream, and jam,” I told Emme. “You still like scones?”
Since we might both be vacating the country soon, forever, I figured it was the right send-off food.
“Of course, girl. Though maybe we should’ve had milkshakes to commemorate?”
It took me a second, but I did make the connection—that night at the café when she went off and met her wanker Dom and got kidnapped for real.
“Bad idea.” Emme’s smile came and went in a flash, leaving only a lingering reminder before sadness sifted in. It melted the rest of her smile and the cheerfulness in her eyes. “You’re okay, Charity? After all this…you know?” Tears were threatening, judging by the shine lipping her eyelids.
“I’m okay.” I leaned in for a long, fervent hug. I squeezed her tightly and sighed. “I hope you are too. That night on the ship, it was one shitty occasion.”
“Yeah. It was shitty. I couldn’t forgive myself for involving you,” she whispered, staring at me. Grief bled from every line on her face, from the little catch in her voice as she spoke. She must have heard what they did to me. “I thought you were dead for so long.” She sniffed and her hug intensified, for a moment, before she stepped away. “My guys helped me. They really get me, and please don’t think I’m still hurt. Or not now I have seen you. Fuck though, I was worried about you.”
Except this hurt scarred. I’d learned to live with my scars. I resisted reaching up and touching my eyebrow where I’d been stitched.
“Me, too, times a thousand. My…” I’d been told not to tell her Hulk’s or Cassius’s name. “My men helped me recover. I have times it flashes back, but I can weather it. My world is turning the right way, now I’ve seen you in the flesh. As for your Doms? I call them your fucktard Doms.” I smirked.
Emme bit back a snort. “I am so telling them.”
“You do that. Want to go for a walk in here? I’ve peeked and there is a pond with man-eating lily pads from the Amazon, or so I gather.” The sign had been delightfully wacky. The owner, the gardener, or both, were a little out there.
“Sure.” She held out her hand, and for a while we walked hand in hand, talking as we negotiated the winding pathways. The green house’s footprint was large enough to fit two houses inside it. “Can I ask where you are living?” she finally ventured. Can I visit you?”
“No.” I grimaced.
Hulk had decided the island was too much our home to be risked with some CNC members, especially Axl. He didn’t trust Axl. That had made me question him further. Hulk had assured me Axl was okay with Emme, just not with anything else. That hadn’t been one hundred percent satisfying for me, but I’d mulled it over. I’d decided it would do. Some people were tempted by money and power more than was wise. Axl was probably one of those.
“Maybe not ever, Emme, but I have some news for you that might be better.”
“Oh.” She looked at the gravel pathway, as if an answer lay there. “I’d hoped I could see you again. I’m limited in where I can go.”
“Because you’re supposed to be dead, yes.” I almost held back from saying the next part, but my wish to make her happier made me reckless. “That part is being fixed, maybe.”
“What?” She stopped. “How?”
“My…” What did I call them? “My men are able to adjust things to make you a new identity and to allow you to leave the UK, if your Doms agree.”
If they didn’t, this news would only make Emme sadder. I should have waited until this was signed, sealed, and delivered, and Hulk had told me so, yet I hadn’t.
What would I do if this fell through? Kick myself, for starters. Then I’d go weep. I couldn’t remain quiet when Emme was this unhappy.
“If? That would be awesome.” Her eyebrows almost did a dance—her worry manifesting, clearly. “What’s the catch?”
“If you do this, you can’t return here, to this country. It’s not enough to guarantee you won’t be recognized in the UK.”
“I see.”
“The plus in this is we can see each other almost anywhere else in the world—Europe, South America, Australia, Antarctica, take your pick.”
“Ohmigod! Yes!” She calmed a little, swinging my hand then releasing it to cover her mouth. “I think? It depends on Axl and Grayson.”
“I figured it would. Let’s hope they agree.”
Wherever they were, doc had said they would be told of this while I spoke to Emme.
“So, good times ahead?” I said that while observing my bestie and wondering how different we were.
I could live forever and ever. I would have to watch her grow old, and I couldn’t tell her any of this. I couldn’t say it would happen, or how, or why. Nothing. That made me grieve before grieving was warranted. My future would be a contrast of joy and tragedy. Finally, I understood why one might become bitter and jaded.
After a few years, ten or fifteen, maximum, according to doc, I’d have to forget my friends, move away from them, or else appear strange and unearthly due to my lack of ageing.
That day is not today.
“You’ve a limp?” Emme pointed at my leg.
“Ummm, yes. I do.” I stared at my leg, as if it’d only just done it. “Nothing serious. It may heal.” The dent of frown lines above her nose suggested she was doubtful. “It wasn’t from anything my men did.” Could I say I was shot? I guess not. “It’s nothing.”
“Okaaay. If I see you again after this, I will be taking notes. If they harm you, they’ll answer to me.”
I chuckled. “As if they would.” Well, okay, I was hedging there, but the hurts they gave me were temporary. “You’re one to talk. I know what you get up to.”
The strain of not being fully truthful with Emme was already weighing on me.
She scoffed.
I eyerolled dramatically, shook my head. “I remember what you told me about Axl and Grayson. Some of it.” Some I’d been told by doc. Again, what could I disclose that I knew?
“The scones and tea have arrived! I am so hungry.” She tugged me back toward the table and chairs. “Starving with a big huge S.”
“But, but, we haven’t seen the man-eating plants, yet.” The pile of scones and the little mountains of cream and jam were beautifully presented. My mouth watered. “Fuck, the man-eating. Scones it is. I’ll just force myself.”
“Keep going with that, and I’ll grab them all for me.”
We seated ourselves, shooed away the help, and poured our tea, before slathering the scones with the jam and cream.
“Mmm.” Emme gobbled half a scone down in one bite, leaving a blob of cream on her nose. She promptly wiped it off and sucked it from her finger. Then she sat back and placed her hands on the table, palms down, staring at me. “This is almost too normal.”
I placed my cup on the saucer with a rattling clink. “I know, I know. We will see each other again. No matter what else happens, I can make it real.”
“Okay. Fuck, that is more than okay. If my guys agree, we can go out in public together again?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to hope madly for that then, and to us seeing each other in… Where did you suggest? Brazil?”
“Or Paris?”
“Paris. Oh my.”
I swallowed more tea and started on my scone, taking a bite, and savoring the perfection. They were delicious, light, and the cream was to die for, as I’d expected. The rich never stinted on quality if they could help it.
Maybe I couldn’t tell Emme everything that had happened to me, and maybe she would never get to see Cassius or Hulk, but it was okay. We would meet again, somehow.
“You won’t be at this CNC party, this weekend?” I tried to sound as if it meant little.
“No. Not this one.”
I nodded. I’d known she wouldn’t be. I’d seen the list and the location. I had an aversion to seeing her at the same party. I’d probably want to run in and stop whatever she was participating in. Her tastes in kink ran far wilder than mine.
I considered that some more. Or did they? I had changed and learned about my limits, and yes, they were almost as wild.
I leaned forward and raised my teacup. “Here’s to us meeting in Paris, and in Rio and…and Sydney, and Hawaii.”
She clinked her cup lightly against mine, her eyebrows rising. “All those?”
“All. It shall happen. Abracadabra.”
“Hell yeah.” Emme’s grin spread and livened her eyes. “The Carnival in Rio, the Eiffel Tower, and all those deadly spiders and koalas in Australia, here we come!”
Now this was the girl I knew.
“To the drop bears in Oz.” I raised my cup and took a gulp. “Next toast will be in champagne, wherever we are.”
“To the next toast. Deal. Ohmigod, Charity, you’re working magic.”
“I hope so.” God, I fucking hoped so. It wasn’t me; it was Hulk. I just prayed her men didn’t have some desperate need to stay here, forever. I needed my friend as much as she needed me. My joy at seeing her happy…it was indescribable. I swiped at my own eyes while she was dabbing at hers.
And what if I got this wrong?
Please, please, let it happen.
My cellphone tinkled, and I pulled it from my jeans pocket, heart thudding as I wondered what I would read.
Hulk: It’s done. Tell Emme her guys agreed to this.
With my thumb over his name, I turned the phone and showed her the screen. “Shazam.”
Her squeal probably came close to shattering the whole greenhouse.
THE CNC PARTY
CHARITY
At least I knew where we were when we curved up the driveway and disembarked from our olive-green SUV. This was Germany. Night was falling, but enough light remained to see the fairytale turrets and battlements of this faux castle spearing into the orange-red sky. Considering what would soon be happening inside, any princess would be hiking up her dress and running for those distant blue mountains. On the road’s winding approach, the peaks had been an inspiring blue-and-white backdrop.
The air was crisp and cold, and I hugged myself, feeling the thinness of the clothes I wore beneath the red cloak.
“Time for your leash.” The doctor clipped it to the black leather-and-spikes one they’d favored ever since…well, since our near-deaths.
My cloak was fur-lined and red, in a Red Riding Hood theme, though beneath it were see-through shimmery-gray leggings and a loose shirt of the same material. At least my boots were warm. Cassius and Hulk were in rough huntsman gear, with brown leather shirts and boots, black pants, with coiled whips tucked into their belts.
From the other patrons going up the fan-shaped stairs, the cosplay request had been adopted by most. A Captain Hook, a Wendy, and two naughty princesses were ascending ahead of us.
The car doors slammed, and the chauffeur drove smoothly away, leaving me flanked by my two Doms. I placed my hand over my stomach, hoping to quell the mild unease. I’d done this before, so why was I unsettled? Two days ago, I’d seen Emme. Perhaps it was that? Talking to her had stirred up bad as well as good memories.
“Come.” Cassius twitched the silver leash then looked back at me when I hesitated. “Are you okay?”
“I…yes. It’s just my stomach.”
“That Thai, last night?” Hulk asked. “It was far too hot.”
“I guess so.”
It was not the Thai. It was something else.
We negotiated the stairs together then passed through the open doors into the most opulent hallway I had yet experienced. I had to pause to take in all the mosaics, the inlaid floors, the grand paintings that went on forever.
“Wow. I’m on a movie set.”
“You’ll see a lot more magnificence than this. I promise you will. Give me a few years.” Hulk sauntered ahead, his hips in those tight leather pants doing that sexy male sway. “Let’s find a balcony above. If your stomach is upset, we need to fix that first.”
That was rather nice of him, but then I’d grown to understand that the doctor’s sadism was a separate part of him, and only came into play when kink was concerned. The more I knew of him, the more I could excuse his past hundred kills in the name of his continued life. Give me another hundred years, and that would be me to an outsider, wouldn’t it? A killer, killing to keep myself going. I hadn’t got over how fucked up this was.
We found a mezzanine floor with doors leading outside onto a wide balcony. Out there, from beneath white stone arches we gazed out over the surrounding ravines and mountains. The wind played harder up here. I shivered and brought my cloak tighter to my body. A man who resembled a huge, red, horned being—that was surely modelled after Tim Curry’s demon from Legend—was returning inside, towing a bound, half-naked girl.
The wind whistled past me, and I shivered. I was surprised the girl wasn’t an icicle.
Cassius waved at the demon, and Hulk did a mock bow then forced me to my knees, saying, “Bow before the demon, Charity, lest he bite you.”
I bowed my head, willing to do this for fun and from that inherent thrill I gained from obeying and kneeling. I peeked from beneath my brows. His costume was impressive, though he’d probably damage someone, accidentally, with those horns before the party was finished.
Chuckling, the man snapped his teeth then went inside through the door Cassius had caught and held for him before it shut.
“Too fucking cold out here without some sunshine.” Cassius beckoned and led us inside again.
“Let’s go there.” Hulk pointed out a private spot on the mezzanine, where a few sofas had been placed. Below, the kink party was getting started. Floggers were being wielded, and screams of pain and delight drifted up, like the scattering of spices on a delicious cake.
Waiters and waitresses dressed as fawns and fairies circulated among the crowd below, and one male fawn ascended the stairs and approached us as we settled into the sofas.
“Down.” Holding my hand and gathered loops of the silver leash, Cassius pointed to the floor. He dropped a cushion. His gaze was kindly yet sharp and a premonition of cruelty to come, I hoped.
I squirmed off the sofa and kneeled there with his hand big and warm in mine. While he patted me, I rested my head on his thigh and tucked my arm around his knee. My cloak had pooled around me in a facsimile of fresh blood. The hood had fallen about my shoulders.
“Sirs, I have a request from another patron. A Lord of Evil down there.” The fawn pointed past carved timber railings to the main floor. “He wants a wish granted, if you have the time, Hulk.”
“Me? Do I know this scary Lord of Evil?”
“He says you do, sir. His CNC name is Assassin. He wants some stitching done on an angel girl’s pussy. Says he has the gear, just needs your hands and skill.”
“Assassin. I know him.” Hulk looked to Cassius, who nodded. “Sure. Tell him now is good. Also, arrange for this to be brought up here.” He scribbled something on a note and handed it to the fawn.
The man disappeared down the carved stairway. Everything here was carved or embellished in some way, even the swooping curves of the framework of our sofa.
“He’ll be five minutes at least.” Hulk stretched his arms along the back of the sofa. An identical floral tapestry sofa faced ours. I imagined this other guest would soon be using it. “You can watch, Charity. I’d love to do it to you, but just watch, this time.”
My eyes were surely wide. I nodded, grateful I was being allowed a choice in this.
Hulk leaned in, rumbling in baritone, “And take off your cloak.”
He brought a pair of safety scissors from a pouch at his waist then snagged the silky gray material at the peak of my left breast, his fingers slipping over my nipple until all he held was cloth. Goggle-eyed, flung into slight concern—only slight because I knew the man—I let the cloak fall from my shoulders.
“Brace yourself…and your nipples,” he muttered, sliding the scissors over the base of the triangle of cloth between his thumb and fingers.
Then he cut the cloth. In one swift fucking move.
I gasped, after all, my nipple was under there.
Without saying more, he elevated the cloth over my right nipple and sliced away another ragged circle. Both my nipples were now sticking out like little hard beacons, conspicuously so, and cooling due to the exposure. The air in here was briskly cold.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
His smile was adorably sadistic. “Good to know I scared you.”
“Those are my nipples, sir.”
“They look fine and beautiful examples of nipples to me.” He bent and sucked on first one then the other, stirring hunger and excitement in an instant. Like magic, his other hand opened and revealed two silver clamps with silver wolf-heads swinging at the ends of their short chains.
He clamped one to each nipple, as precise as a surgeon doing a routine incision.
I hissed at the first crush of those little jaws, breathing through my teeth until the pain subsided.
A second ago I’d been coasting, now I was brutally aware of my female sexuality and aching with need.
“Now, down here is harder to cut safely.” He tapped the scissor blades against my inner thigh. I knew where he meant and frowned.
“No ugly frowns. Lie on your back and spread your legs, girl. Be quick. The longer you take to obey, the more of a hurry I will be in.”
Resigned to this, I released Cassius’s knee and lay on my back on the floor, with my rear on the cushion to elevate it and make myself an easier target.
Hulk snipped at the leggings in the crotch area, removing another rough circle of material from over my clit and mound. He tore it open further and slid his hand between my legs.
“Mine.”
I shuddered, registering his claim.
“Ours. Next time I get to do that.” Cassius looked pained and raked his gaze up my body, stalling at my breasts. Whenever I shifted in the slightest, the wolf heads rolled across my upper breasts on their chains. “Fuck. Hot as.”
“As long as you can promise not to cut off any bits of our girl? Next time, she’s yours.”
“Suck my dick, Hulk. Now I have a hard-on waiting to be made happier, and it’s your fault.”
“You mean her fault. We really should punish her for being so hot.”
Cassius palmed his cock through his pants. “Ha. Probably. She needs spanking or worse.”
I huffed at that, and they laughed.
Hulk put away the scissors. “Sit up on your knees, girl, while we wait for our man to arrive. Tell me why you’re feeling sick. Do you know why? Is it just this?” He gestured in the general direction of the balcony as I righted myself. “The CNC party?”
I shifted, thinking, adjusting my knees on the cushion.
I really wasn’t sure. Or not at first. I thought while listening to the noise, watching the other people in their outrageous cosplays and costumes. I sat there with my own costume mutilated by what Hulk had done to me. I still felt like me, but I also felt alien. There it was. That was why I was uneasy. Talking to Emme had only solidified how alien I was now.
Luckily, there were only two other groups on this mezzanine floor, and both were distant from us. “Because of the forever life…problem…thing. I don’t quite feel human anymore.” I was in the middle of this bawdy, smutty, kinkfest with the superrich, and I felt…
“Not human?” Cassius echoed. “I can see that, sort of.”
I rolled over my ideas, my feelings, trying to see myself in a revealing light. “Different and superior. It sucks, though.”
“The never-ending immortality problem,” Hulk said, baldly, where I’d tiptoed around that word. I winced, wondering if there were spy-cams or bugs.
“Yes.” I moved my legs on the cushion. “I suppose.”
“You will get over this. Although people rarely completely forget traumas, and I believe I can class this as a type of trauma.” He eyed me directly. “It can make you feel as if you don’t fit, anywhere, anymore.”
“It doesn’t to me.” Cassius shrugged. “Though if she feels superior, I figure the best move is to take her down a peg or two.”
I blinked then sent him an evil stare.
The doctor only agreed. “Excellent. That is the treatment regime I will prescribe. Time will heal, and so does practicing being normal.” He clapped his hands. “On with the kink show.”
Without me noticing him arriving, the waiter was suddenly before us with another man following. A man dressed as a Lord of Evil, apparently.
His sub was naked, apart from a pair of fluffy, white wings and a short devil’s tail protruding from her rear. An angel-devil, perhaps? The tail was attached via a butt plug, I assumed. He had smaller horns than the Legend lookalike, but also wore a small black crown, a black latex bodysuit, and the fanciest pair of fake hoof shoes ever. He clopped as he walked. I squinted, wondering for a second, if he really had cloven feet.
My wondering was interrupted by a flurry of activity. His sub bent over the opposite sofa, with a cushion clutched to her chest, making the slit of her pussy fully exposed. She wasn’t even tied in place. Her lord merely told her not to move, while Hulk swabbed her pussy and unrolled a cloth, revealing needle-holders, needles, and suture thread.
I was fascinated until Hulk waved in my direction, directing two men carrying a small, square table, a wooden box that apparently held chess pieces—judging by the artwork on it—and some leather straps. I was suspicious of the straps.
“This is for Little Miss Superior. Put her over the table and tie her to it, Cassius,” Hulk explained in a casual tone. “On all fours, please.”
“What deviousness is this?” I hissed at Cassius.
He shrugged and winked. “Fucked if I know. “Want to wrestle me for it? If I win, I get to put you next to that girl for some sewing.”
His wink was not reassuring. Either he’d thawed to the idea of pussy sutures in me, or his mindfucks were improving. I wasn’t game to challenge him. I’d lose.
As I moved to drape myself over the table, Cassius stopped me. “Wait. Take the clamps off, Hulk?”
He shook his head.
The table was padded and as tall as my arms were long. The wolf heads and the clamps dug in and twisted my nipples as I lay on them. I hissed and winced dramatically, but Cassius only shrugged. The bastard. He strapped my arms to the front wooden legs, and my thighs to the other table legs. My knees reached the floor, and so did my hands. Two other straps went over my upper back and waist.
“You are our chess board, Charity.” Hulk raised the scissor-handled needle-holders to the light and clicking their jaws onto the needle.
Objectification? Being a table wasn’t something I’d ever dreamed about. One couldn’t get much more demeaning and less superior than being used as a table.
He bent over the woman and squeezed her labia together—to make a better target, I assumed. With one swift move, he pierced her, from one side to the next, then dragged the thread through her flesh, and knotted it in seconds.
The woman yelped but remained stone-still. She craned her neck so she could see what he did. Her expression was purely blissful.
“Paint the board on her,” were his next words.
A man-fawn moved in above me.
Who did he mean? On me? I tugged as if to get free and see what was coming, but the straps barely let me move. I could only turn my head. So, he wasn’t joking—I was to be a chess board table.
My shirt was sliced down the middle from neck to waist and left to fall down my arms. My leggings were wriggled to midway down my thighs, exposing me there completely. No panties, of course.
Cassius watched the preparations from his slouched position on the sofa, wearing that evil grin I often saw when he was horny and seeing the pluses of mindfucks and sadism.
“Um. How are the pieces not going to fall off?” Unsure I wanted the answer, I tugged at the straps holding my wrists. I was pleased to find them ungiving and solid. The thrill from bondage rarely failed me, especially not when my Doms had something diabolical planned.
A plastic template was laid over my back then someone began to spray my back with paint. Whoever was doing this was as methodical as Hulk when he sutured pussies. Already the woman was half sewn up, and she was panting and trembling but still controlling her reactions. Her lord demon was soothing her with words and pats.
The row of sutures drew lines across the lips and squeezed them together, eliminating the entry. The piercings made blood well, bright dots against her hairless skin. Macabre yet neat.
Frightening yet intriguing. How would that feel? How would it really feel—to the mind as well as the flesh.
Openmouthed, I couldn’t help but admire Hulk’s work, even as my back cooled under the spray of paint. I would be a checkerboard, apparently. I’d expected to be spanked or flogged, considering how they’d tied me.
The chess pieces lay on their side in the opened box, beside the table.
The doctor took the last few swipes of the needle and did his gymnastically perfect, suture knotting, then declared it done. He stood and looked to me. “How are they not to fall off your back? You’ll see. Set up the pieces, Cassius.”
“You are a terrible, nasty, cruel man, doc.” Admiration dripped from Cassius’s words.
The box rattled as he removed the pieces. Stools were placed for them to sit on. It was as Cassius raised the black king from the box that I realized the plan. Each piece had two small prongs at the base. They were going to stick them into me…and play a full game. Fuck.
The placing of the first pieces startled me, rendered me mute, as metal sank into my butt with tiny fangs. The miniscule pain prickled through my flesh. One by one, each side was set in place. Cassius crooned words of encouragement, while in my head I swore at him.
By the time Hulk pulled up a stool to begin play, I was more than a little lost, and had closed my eyes to amplify the feelings wrought by the stings.
Cassius answered the opening move. Bang. Another piece bit me, higher on my back. I squirmed, wondering how this could possibly be making me wet and needy.
The small ecstasies, the trancelike state evoked as move after move was played, it was nothing new. I’d grown accustomed to needles, and these were tiny and almost as fine as acupuncture needles. I’d been conditioned like a Pavlov’s dog to love these invasions of my flesh. Needles paired with orgasms galore had worked a treat.
I’d always loved some pain, though—spanking, flogging. Was I a pain slut now, I wondered, drifting in a haze punctured now and then by their voices.
The sensations began to be rudely interrupted by a finger entering my pussy or a light finger-stroke over my clit, by Cassius tipping up my chin and sticking a finger in my mouth for me to suck. Hulk must have unzipped, for after rook takes bishop, he squeezed his cock into me.
Stunned by that move, I attempted to arch. The straps held. I raised my head higher, gasping blindly as he pumped in and out.
Then Cassius pushed his erection into my mouth.
“There. Keep it in.” He tapped my nose until I looked at him. “Hear me?”
I nodded, rocking his cock up and down.
“Decided you really like chess?” Hulk asked from the other end of me. His cock pulsed, my pussy walls spasmed in, and I shut my eyes again. This was insanely arousing.
“Always have. This table…I need to buy another one like it.” He swallowed audibly, pushed himself deeper, sighing as I spluttered around his girth. “Winner gets to come in her?”
Doc ground himself onto my rear, making me hyperaware of both taking me at once. There was nothing I could do, and it was…awesome. I moaned as Cassius withdrew to the tip while Hulk did the same, then shoved himself deeper into my pussy.
Being used as a table, being objectified, had more than one consequence.
“Nothing so crass. We can both fuck her. Winner gets to make her come?”
“Agreed. Pawn to knight six.”
For the rest of the game, they played fast and didn’t pause. My back and ass became a minefield of tiny spikes and punctures.
“Knight to queen’s bishop seven. Check,” Hulk declared.
“Fuck.” Cassius groaned, and he stared at me licking over the head of his cock provocatively, revolving my tongue every which way. He shoved inside, harder. Then, mouth tight, he stood, slipping his cock from me as he rose. Hands on hips, he stared at the board on my back. “Fuck. Make it queen takes rook.”
I’d been playing, tonguing, and sucking on Cassius’s cock as much as I could with no hands. The man was wild-eyed and ready to burst. I couldn’t suppress a twisted smile.
“Checkmate, Cassius. Go ahead. Take her while I play with her cunt end.”
“The little bitch is mocking me.” He grabbed a handful of my hair and shook me. The chess pieces that were still embedded in my skin wobbled. His cock wobbled too.
I stuck out my tongue and croaked, “Never.”
“Let’s even this up then,” Hulk said.
I heard the buzz of a vibe a second before it was shoved onto my clit, slid between the table my body, and held there. The vibrations drowned my assertiveness as the doctor began to fuck me. He must have attached the vibe somehow, because both his hands were holding my ass as he reamed my pussy deeper.
His thumb penetrated my asshole. “This too is mine,” he rasped, and drove himself in until balls deep. I choked and tried to duck my head.
“Uh-uh. Head up.” Cassius sounded pleased and squeezed on my mouth to make me open wide enough for him to reinsert his cock. This was how an evening should end.
As they picked up pace, I found myself making small noises and groaning and bubbling past cock. The table screeched and creaked, in rhythm with their thrusts.
“That’s it,” Cassius grated out the strained words.
I was half-choked and growing insensible, my muscles tensing in waves as I ran close to the peak then receded. The vibe had moved, and I groaned in frustration, tried to shove myself at the deviant rattling device.
The slaps and liquid sounds betrayed my wetness, making the shove and slide of Hulk’s cock inside me thump with heat. Mouth full of Cassius, I whined past him as Hulk rammed into my pussy and accidentally jammed me against the vibe. I grunted and tensed, confused, overcome, adjusting to that overwhelming and ragged hum on top of my clit.
It was in just…
The right…
Spot.
It thrummed through me, invading and crushing thoughts. I blitzed and shook, coming despite the almost-pain of the thing squashing onto that now terribly sensitive place on my body.
I arched again, hard, climbing to a second O, forced there by the vibe. The straps squeezed across my back. Cassius swore and came, filling my mouth with heated jizz before he pulled out and splattered it over my back. Spilling at both ends, I blinked, panting and trembling, muscles shaking from the near annihilation of my body and mind.
“Fuck you. You came on my chess set.”
Cassius laughed.
Me? My legs hurt from the bondage. I slumped over the table, pleading for someone to turn off the vibe. It was still eating at my clit, and my nipples were aching. “The clamps too?”
They unstrapped me and plucked out the last chess pieces, then undid the clamps after helping me sit up. Cassius murmured something about me not being so superior anymore. Then I heard him hop about and curse at a rook that’d stuck into his thumb.
I didn’t have the energy to snigger. The orgasm held me blissed out, and I was still struggling to inhale enough air.
Once I was cleaned up, I cuddled on the sofa with the men, sprawling over both, inhaling the scent of sex and sweaty man. I listened to them argue over what chess match they’d almost re-enacted, despite being high on fucking me.
I smiled and rearranged myself, buried my nose in the chest of whoever was nearest.
They’d been right, of course. Being fucked senseless had made all my thoughts of being different fade into the stratosphere. I wondered where the cunt-sewn female angel had gone. Though I didn’t quite fathom her kink, she’d seemed happy with her fate, as was I.
As was I…
One day I might dare to ask Hulk to suture me like that, out of plain curiosity, and because I liked to do things that scared me.
“Want to stay longer, little one? Or, since you were not feeling well, what about this…” Hulk asked, stroking my hair, making me sigh, and snuggle into him. “We could go to a hotel tonight, then do a tour of some German attractions tomorrow. We can see the castle this one is modelled after, Neuschwanstein, drink some beers, see the sights? That sort of thing.”
Until today, I’d never been to Germany.
“I’d like that.” I kissed his hand then found Cassius’s and kissed and nibbled on his knuckles. I held their hands beneath my chin as if they were prizes I’d discovered. “I’d love doing that with both of you.”
“Then we will do this. We can choose a different country every month.”
“Mmm. But let’s not get up quite yet. I’m happy, very, very happy lying here on top of you two warm pillows.”
“Does that make us her pillow boys?” Cassius asked.
“Doubtful. Little Charity wouldn’t dare mock us.” Someone smacked my bare and somewhat punctured butt, and I smiled and reached to grab his hand. I introduced a finger from it to my mouth so I could suck.
“Why does her doing that make my dick pop up?” Cassius muttered. “Fuck. Next time you want something to suck, Charity…I have answers.”
This was his finger then. Eyes closed, I let their words rumble overhead like the background roar of a waterfall, for I had everything I wanted.
At least I knew where we were when we curved up the driveway and disembarked from our olive-green SUV. This was Germany. Night was falling, but enough light remained to see the fairytale turrets and battlements of this faux castle spearing into the orange-red sky. Considering what would soon be happening inside, any princess would be hiking up her dress and running for those distant blue mountains. On the road’s winding approach, the peaks had been an inspiring blue-and-white backdrop.
The air was crisp and cold, and I hugged myself, feeling the thinness of the clothes I wore beneath the red cloak.
“Time for your leash.” The doctor clipped it to the black leather-and-spikes one they’d favored ever since…well, since our near-deaths.
My cloak was fur-lined and red, in a Red Riding Hood theme, though beneath it were see-through shimmery-gray leggings and a loose shirt of the same material. At least my boots were warm. Cassius and Hulk were in rough huntsman gear, with brown leather shirts and boots, black pants, with coiled whips tucked into their belts.
From the other patrons going up the fan-shaped stairs, the cosplay request had been adopted by most. A Captain Hook, a Wendy, and two naughty princesses were ascending ahead of us.
The car doors slammed, and the chauffeur drove smoothly away, leaving me flanked by my two Doms. I placed my hand over my stomach, hoping to quell the mild unease. I’d done this before, so why was I unsettled? Two days ago, I’d seen Emme. Perhaps it was that? Talking to her had stirred up bad as well as good memories.
“Come.” Cassius twitched the silver leash then looked back at me when I hesitated. “Are you okay?”
“I…yes. It’s just my stomach.”
“That Thai, last night?” Hulk asked. “It was far too hot.”
“I guess so.”
It was not the Thai. It was something else.
We negotiated the stairs together then passed through the open doors into the most opulent hallway I had yet experienced. I had to pause to take in all the mosaics, the inlaid floors, the grand paintings that went on forever.
“Wow. I’m on a movie set.”
“You’ll see a lot more magnificence than this. I promise you will. Give me a few years.” Hulk sauntered ahead, his hips in those tight leather pants doing that sexy male sway. “Let’s find a balcony above. If your stomach is upset, we need to fix that first.”
That was rather nice of him, but then I’d grown to understand that the doctor’s sadism was a separate part of him, and only came into play when kink was concerned. The more I knew of him, the more I could excuse his past hundred kills in the name of his continued life. Give me another hundred years, and that would be me to an outsider, wouldn’t it? A killer, killing to keep myself going. I hadn’t got over how fucked up this was.
We found a mezzanine floor with doors leading outside onto a wide balcony. Out there, from beneath white stone arches we gazed out over the surrounding ravines and mountains. The wind played harder up here. I shivered and brought my cloak tighter to my body. A man who resembled a huge, red, horned being—that was surely modelled after Tim Curry’s demon from Legend—was returning inside, towing a bound, half-naked girl.
The wind whistled past me, and I shivered. I was surprised the girl wasn’t an icicle.
Cassius waved at the demon, and Hulk did a mock bow then forced me to my knees, saying, “Bow before the demon, Charity, lest he bite you.”
I bowed my head, willing to do this for fun and from that inherent thrill I gained from obeying and kneeling. I peeked from beneath my brows. His costume was impressive, though he’d probably damage someone, accidentally, with those horns before the party was finished.
Chuckling, the man snapped his teeth then went inside through the door Cassius had caught and held for him before it shut.
“Too fucking cold out here without some sunshine.” Cassius beckoned and led us inside again.
“Let’s go there.” Hulk pointed out a private spot on the mezzanine, where a few sofas had been placed. Below, the kink party was getting started. Floggers were being wielded, and screams of pain and delight drifted up, like the scattering of spices on a delicious cake.
Waiters and waitresses dressed as fawns and fairies circulated among the crowd below, and one male fawn ascended the stairs and approached us as we settled into the sofas.
“Down.” Holding my hand and gathered loops of the silver leash, Cassius pointed to the floor. He dropped a cushion. His gaze was kindly yet sharp and a premonition of cruelty to come, I hoped.
I squirmed off the sofa and kneeled there with his hand big and warm in mine. While he patted me, I rested my head on his thigh and tucked my arm around his knee. My cloak had pooled around me in a facsimile of fresh blood. The hood had fallen about my shoulders.
“Sirs, I have a request from another patron. A Lord of Evil down there.” The fawn pointed past carved timber railings to the main floor. “He wants a wish granted, if you have the time, Hulk.”
“Me? Do I know this scary Lord of Evil?”
“He says you do, sir. His CNC name is Assassin. He wants some stitching done on an angel girl’s pussy. Says he has the gear, just needs your hands and skill.”
“Assassin. I know him.” Hulk looked to Cassius, who nodded. “Sure. Tell him now is good. Also, arrange for this to be brought up here.” He scribbled something on a note and handed it to the fawn.
The man disappeared down the carved stairway. Everything here was carved or embellished in some way, even the swooping curves of the framework of our sofa.
“He’ll be five minutes at least.” Hulk stretched his arms along the back of the sofa. An identical floral tapestry sofa faced ours. I imagined this other guest would soon be using it. “You can watch, Charity. I’d love to do it to you, but just watch, this time.”
My eyes were surely wide. I nodded, grateful I was being allowed a choice in this.
Hulk leaned in, rumbling in baritone, “And take off your cloak.”
He brought a pair of safety scissors from a pouch at his waist then snagged the silky gray material at the peak of my left breast, his fingers slipping over my nipple until all he held was cloth. Goggle-eyed, flung into slight concern—only slight because I knew the man—I let the cloak fall from my shoulders.
“Brace yourself…and your nipples,” he muttered, sliding the scissors over the base of the triangle of cloth between his thumb and fingers.
Then he cut the cloth. In one swift fucking move.
I gasped, after all, my nipple was under there.
Without saying more, he elevated the cloth over my right nipple and sliced away another ragged circle. Both my nipples were now sticking out like little hard beacons, conspicuously so, and cooling due to the exposure. The air in here was briskly cold.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
His smile was adorably sadistic. “Good to know I scared you.”
“Those are my nipples, sir.”
“They look fine and beautiful examples of nipples to me.” He bent and sucked on first one then the other, stirring hunger and excitement in an instant. Like magic, his other hand opened and revealed two silver clamps with silver wolf-heads swinging at the ends of their short chains.
He clamped one to each nipple, as precise as a surgeon doing a routine incision.
I hissed at the first crush of those little jaws, breathing through my teeth until the pain subsided.
A second ago I’d been coasting, now I was brutally aware of my female sexuality and aching with need.
“Now, down here is harder to cut safely.” He tapped the scissor blades against my inner thigh. I knew where he meant and frowned.
“No ugly frowns. Lie on your back and spread your legs, girl. Be quick. The longer you take to obey, the more of a hurry I will be in.”
Resigned to this, I released Cassius’s knee and lay on my back on the floor, with my rear on the cushion to elevate it and make myself an easier target.
Hulk snipped at the leggings in the crotch area, removing another rough circle of material from over my clit and mound. He tore it open further and slid his hand between my legs.
“Mine.”
I shuddered, registering his claim.
“Ours. Next time I get to do that.” Cassius looked pained and raked his gaze up my body, stalling at my breasts. Whenever I shifted in the slightest, the wolf heads rolled across my upper breasts on their chains. “Fuck. Hot as.”
“As long as you can promise not to cut off any bits of our girl? Next time, she’s yours.”
“Suck my dick, Hulk. Now I have a hard-on waiting to be made happier, and it’s your fault.”
“You mean her fault. We really should punish her for being so hot.”
Cassius palmed his cock through his pants. “Ha. Probably. She needs spanking or worse.”
I huffed at that, and they laughed.
Hulk put away the scissors. “Sit up on your knees, girl, while we wait for our man to arrive. Tell me why you’re feeling sick. Do you know why? Is it just this?” He gestured in the general direction of the balcony as I righted myself. “The CNC party?”
I shifted, thinking, adjusting my knees on the cushion.
I really wasn’t sure. Or not at first. I thought while listening to the noise, watching the other people in their outrageous cosplays and costumes. I sat there with my own costume mutilated by what Hulk had done to me. I still felt like me, but I also felt alien. There it was. That was why I was uneasy. Talking to Emme had only solidified how alien I was now.
Luckily, there were only two other groups on this mezzanine floor, and both were distant from us. “Because of the forever life…problem…thing. I don’t quite feel human anymore.” I was in the middle of this bawdy, smutty, kinkfest with the superrich, and I felt…
“Not human?” Cassius echoed. “I can see that, sort of.”
I rolled over my ideas, my feelings, trying to see myself in a revealing light. “Different and superior. It sucks, though.”
“The never-ending immortality problem,” Hulk said, baldly, where I’d tiptoed around that word. I winced, wondering if there were spy-cams or bugs.
“Yes.” I moved my legs on the cushion. “I suppose.”
“You will get over this. Although people rarely completely forget traumas, and I believe I can class this as a type of trauma.” He eyed me directly. “It can make you feel as if you don’t fit, anywhere, anymore.”
“It doesn’t to me.” Cassius shrugged. “Though if she feels superior, I figure the best move is to take her down a peg or two.”
I blinked then sent him an evil stare.
The doctor only agreed. “Excellent. That is the treatment regime I will prescribe. Time will heal, and so does practicing being normal.” He clapped his hands. “On with the kink show.”
Without me noticing him arriving, the waiter was suddenly before us with another man following. A man dressed as a Lord of Evil, apparently.
His sub was naked, apart from a pair of fluffy, white wings and a short devil’s tail protruding from her rear. An angel-devil, perhaps? The tail was attached via a butt plug, I assumed. He had smaller horns than the Legend lookalike, but also wore a small black crown, a black latex bodysuit, and the fanciest pair of fake hoof shoes ever. He clopped as he walked. I squinted, wondering for a second, if he really had cloven feet.
My wondering was interrupted by a flurry of activity. His sub bent over the opposite sofa, with a cushion clutched to her chest, making the slit of her pussy fully exposed. She wasn’t even tied in place. Her lord merely told her not to move, while Hulk swabbed her pussy and unrolled a cloth, revealing needle-holders, needles, and suture thread.
I was fascinated until Hulk waved in my direction, directing two men carrying a small, square table, a wooden box that apparently held chess pieces—judging by the artwork on it—and some leather straps. I was suspicious of the straps.
“This is for Little Miss Superior. Put her over the table and tie her to it, Cassius,” Hulk explained in a casual tone. “On all fours, please.”
“What deviousness is this?” I hissed at Cassius.
He shrugged and winked. “Fucked if I know. “Want to wrestle me for it? If I win, I get to put you next to that girl for some sewing.”
His wink was not reassuring. Either he’d thawed to the idea of pussy sutures in me, or his mindfucks were improving. I wasn’t game to challenge him. I’d lose.
As I moved to drape myself over the table, Cassius stopped me. “Wait. Take the clamps off, Hulk?”
He shook his head.
The table was padded and as tall as my arms were long. The wolf heads and the clamps dug in and twisted my nipples as I lay on them. I hissed and winced dramatically, but Cassius only shrugged. The bastard. He strapped my arms to the front wooden legs, and my thighs to the other table legs. My knees reached the floor, and so did my hands. Two other straps went over my upper back and waist.
“You are our chess board, Charity.” Hulk raised the scissor-handled needle-holders to the light and clicking their jaws onto the needle.
Objectification? Being a table wasn’t something I’d ever dreamed about. One couldn’t get much more demeaning and less superior than being used as a table.
He bent over the woman and squeezed her labia together—to make a better target, I assumed. With one swift move, he pierced her, from one side to the next, then dragged the thread through her flesh, and knotted it in seconds.
The woman yelped but remained stone-still. She craned her neck so she could see what he did. Her expression was purely blissful.
“Paint the board on her,” were his next words.
A man-fawn moved in above me.
Who did he mean? On me? I tugged as if to get free and see what was coming, but the straps barely let me move. I could only turn my head. So, he wasn’t joking—I was to be a chess board table.
My shirt was sliced down the middle from neck to waist and left to fall down my arms. My leggings were wriggled to midway down my thighs, exposing me there completely. No panties, of course.
Cassius watched the preparations from his slouched position on the sofa, wearing that evil grin I often saw when he was horny and seeing the pluses of mindfucks and sadism.
“Um. How are the pieces not going to fall off?” Unsure I wanted the answer, I tugged at the straps holding my wrists. I was pleased to find them ungiving and solid. The thrill from bondage rarely failed me, especially not when my Doms had something diabolical planned.
A plastic template was laid over my back then someone began to spray my back with paint. Whoever was doing this was as methodical as Hulk when he sutured pussies. Already the woman was half sewn up, and she was panting and trembling but still controlling her reactions. Her lord demon was soothing her with words and pats.
The row of sutures drew lines across the lips and squeezed them together, eliminating the entry. The piercings made blood well, bright dots against her hairless skin. Macabre yet neat.
Frightening yet intriguing. How would that feel? How would it really feel—to the mind as well as the flesh.
Openmouthed, I couldn’t help but admire Hulk’s work, even as my back cooled under the spray of paint. I would be a checkerboard, apparently. I’d expected to be spanked or flogged, considering how they’d tied me.
The chess pieces lay on their side in the opened box, beside the table.
The doctor took the last few swipes of the needle and did his gymnastically perfect, suture knotting, then declared it done. He stood and looked to me. “How are they not to fall off your back? You’ll see. Set up the pieces, Cassius.”
“You are a terrible, nasty, cruel man, doc.” Admiration dripped from Cassius’s words.
The box rattled as he removed the pieces. Stools were placed for them to sit on. It was as Cassius raised the black king from the box that I realized the plan. Each piece had two small prongs at the base. They were going to stick them into me…and play a full game. Fuck.
The placing of the first pieces startled me, rendered me mute, as metal sank into my butt with tiny fangs. The miniscule pain prickled through my flesh. One by one, each side was set in place. Cassius crooned words of encouragement, while in my head I swore at him.
By the time Hulk pulled up a stool to begin play, I was more than a little lost, and had closed my eyes to amplify the feelings wrought by the stings.
Cassius answered the opening move. Bang. Another piece bit me, higher on my back. I squirmed, wondering how this could possibly be making me wet and needy.
The small ecstasies, the trancelike state evoked as move after move was played, it was nothing new. I’d grown accustomed to needles, and these were tiny and almost as fine as acupuncture needles. I’d been conditioned like a Pavlov’s dog to love these invasions of my flesh. Needles paired with orgasms galore had worked a treat.
I’d always loved some pain, though—spanking, flogging. Was I a pain slut now, I wondered, drifting in a haze punctured now and then by their voices.
The sensations began to be rudely interrupted by a finger entering my pussy or a light finger-stroke over my clit, by Cassius tipping up my chin and sticking a finger in my mouth for me to suck. Hulk must have unzipped, for after rook takes bishop, he squeezed his cock into me.
Stunned by that move, I attempted to arch. The straps held. I raised my head higher, gasping blindly as he pumped in and out.
Then Cassius pushed his erection into my mouth.
“There. Keep it in.” He tapped my nose until I looked at him. “Hear me?”
I nodded, rocking his cock up and down.
“Decided you really like chess?” Hulk asked from the other end of me. His cock pulsed, my pussy walls spasmed in, and I shut my eyes again. This was insanely arousing.
“Always have. This table…I need to buy another one like it.” He swallowed audibly, pushed himself deeper, sighing as I spluttered around his girth. “Winner gets to come in her?”
Doc ground himself onto my rear, making me hyperaware of both taking me at once. There was nothing I could do, and it was…awesome. I moaned as Cassius withdrew to the tip while Hulk did the same, then shoved himself deeper into my pussy.
Being used as a table, being objectified, had more than one consequence.
“Nothing so crass. We can both fuck her. Winner gets to make her come?”
“Agreed. Pawn to knight six.”
For the rest of the game, they played fast and didn’t pause. My back and ass became a minefield of tiny spikes and punctures.
“Knight to queen’s bishop seven. Check,” Hulk declared.
“Fuck.” Cassius groaned, and he stared at me licking over the head of his cock provocatively, revolving my tongue every which way. He shoved inside, harder. Then, mouth tight, he stood, slipping his cock from me as he rose. Hands on hips, he stared at the board on my back. “Fuck. Make it queen takes rook.”
I’d been playing, tonguing, and sucking on Cassius’s cock as much as I could with no hands. The man was wild-eyed and ready to burst. I couldn’t suppress a twisted smile.
“Checkmate, Cassius. Go ahead. Take her while I play with her cunt end.”
“The little bitch is mocking me.” He grabbed a handful of my hair and shook me. The chess pieces that were still embedded in my skin wobbled. His cock wobbled too.
I stuck out my tongue and croaked, “Never.”
“Let’s even this up then,” Hulk said.
I heard the buzz of a vibe a second before it was shoved onto my clit, slid between the table my body, and held there. The vibrations drowned my assertiveness as the doctor began to fuck me. He must have attached the vibe somehow, because both his hands were holding my ass as he reamed my pussy deeper.
His thumb penetrated my asshole. “This too is mine,” he rasped, and drove himself in until balls deep. I choked and tried to duck my head.
“Uh-uh. Head up.” Cassius sounded pleased and squeezed on my mouth to make me open wide enough for him to reinsert his cock. This was how an evening should end.
As they picked up pace, I found myself making small noises and groaning and bubbling past cock. The table screeched and creaked, in rhythm with their thrusts.
“That’s it,” Cassius grated out the strained words.
I was half-choked and growing insensible, my muscles tensing in waves as I ran close to the peak then receded. The vibe had moved, and I groaned in frustration, tried to shove myself at the deviant rattling device.
The slaps and liquid sounds betrayed my wetness, making the shove and slide of Hulk’s cock inside me thump with heat. Mouth full of Cassius, I whined past him as Hulk rammed into my pussy and accidentally jammed me against the vibe. I grunted and tensed, confused, overcome, adjusting to that overwhelming and ragged hum on top of my clit.
It was in just…
The right…
Spot.
It thrummed through me, invading and crushing thoughts. I blitzed and shook, coming despite the almost-pain of the thing squashing onto that now terribly sensitive place on my body.
I arched again, hard, climbing to a second O, forced there by the vibe. The straps squeezed across my back. Cassius swore and came, filling my mouth with heated jizz before he pulled out and splattered it over my back. Spilling at both ends, I blinked, panting and trembling, muscles shaking from the near annihilation of my body and mind.
“Fuck you. You came on my chess set.”
Cassius laughed.
Me? My legs hurt from the bondage. I slumped over the table, pleading for someone to turn off the vibe. It was still eating at my clit, and my nipples were aching. “The clamps too?”
They unstrapped me and plucked out the last chess pieces, then undid the clamps after helping me sit up. Cassius murmured something about me not being so superior anymore. Then I heard him hop about and curse at a rook that’d stuck into his thumb.
I didn’t have the energy to snigger. The orgasm held me blissed out, and I was still struggling to inhale enough air.
Once I was cleaned up, I cuddled on the sofa with the men, sprawling over both, inhaling the scent of sex and sweaty man. I listened to them argue over what chess match they’d almost re-enacted, despite being high on fucking me.
I smiled and rearranged myself, buried my nose in the chest of whoever was nearest.
They’d been right, of course. Being fucked senseless had made all my thoughts of being different fade into the stratosphere. I wondered where the cunt-sewn female angel had gone. Though I didn’t quite fathom her kink, she’d seemed happy with her fate, as was I.
As was I…
One day I might dare to ask Hulk to suture me like that, out of plain curiosity, and because I liked to do things that scared me.
“Want to stay longer, little one? Or, since you were not feeling well, what about this…” Hulk asked, stroking my hair, making me sigh, and snuggle into him. “We could go to a hotel tonight, then do a tour of some German attractions tomorrow. We can see the castle this one is modelled after, Neuschwanstein, drink some beers, see the sights? That sort of thing.”
Until today, I’d never been to Germany.
“I’d like that.” I kissed his hand then found Cassius’s and kissed and nibbled on his knuckles. I held their hands beneath my chin as if they were prizes I’d discovered. “I’d love doing that with both of you.”
“Then we will do this. We can choose a different country every month.”
“Mmm. But let’s not get up quite yet. I’m happy, very, very happy lying here on top of you two warm pillows.”
“Does that make us her pillow boys?” Cassius asked.
“Doubtful. Little Charity wouldn’t dare mock us.” Someone smacked my bare and somewhat punctured butt, and I smiled and reached to grab his hand. I introduced a finger from it to my mouth so I could suck.
“Why does her doing that make my dick pop up?” Cassius muttered. “Fuck. Next time you want something to suck, Charity…I have answers.”
This was his finger then. Eyes closed, I let their words rumble overhead like the background roar of a waterfall, for I had everything I wanted.
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Copyright © Cari Silverwood 2011. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.