Cell 27 – BDSM – StoryVa.com

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“Cell Twenty-Seven, Your Highness,” the dark priest hissed, his breathing wet and just as sibilant as his words had been.

The young baroness still clung to looks of newness, of having just emerged from sacred locked chambers reserved only for royal bloodlines of demons. Of course one could turn any mortal creature to bring it into the bloodline. Such things were easily done and commonplace for bolstering the ranks of servants and warriors. But for the families themselves, the ancient, traditional ways were necessary. They had to procreate.

No demon is born a child. They are not like mortals that way. The nutrients they require could not be gotten suitably as infants or children, and so that time of their maturation was kept sealed away, with many runes and seals capturing the power of orgies of dedication inscribed into the incubation chamber. There the creations would be left to sleep and mature, to dream and be taught thus by their elders. To learn how to be proper demons, how to hunt, and how to live.

The baroness, having emerged months ago to great acclaim and familial excitement, was still feeling her newness. She was mature in body and had long practiced in dreams how to feed, but only lately had she felt the hungry should do so awake. The runes had been drained long ago and could no longer sustain her. Keeping discreetly hidden in dark halls during feedings one room away had helped, but the pang of it was getting to be too much.

She wanted to feed, but she wanted to feed on something exquisite.

Baronesses are often born spoiled, of course.

Cell twenty-seven loomed on the right, the strong, wooden door barred in iron and inscribed in glowing marks of icy blue. Once she reached out and caressed her fingertips over the wood did the markings hum and dim into an inviting amber, and the lock opened with a sharp and heavy clank. It took only a moment for her to disrobe to full nudity, stepping out of her dress and taking a deep breath to ready herself. Her body was adult and ready for feeding, she knew she was gorgeous and without blemish. All she had to do was go in and feed, a ritual performed by every member of her family before her, a task so mundane and simple even lesser demons could do it. Surely this would be easy. Surely her nerves were pointless. Her petite fingers grasped the wrought iron handle and twisted it down, admitting her into the room.

Within was a circular chamber outfitted for obscenity. Lit oil lanterns hung at regular intervals along the walls, their licking flames shivering and fluttering their spheres of light towards a central circular altar some four feet tall and ten feet wide. And upon the deeply veined black marble was chained a young, slender male angel with wings and hair of purest white, his arms and legs spread far aside and chained with silver links. His skin was fair and unblemished, and his eyes were a soft robin’s egg blue ringed in a slender band of black. Those eyes were wide with nerves, his cheeks blushing softly as he looked upon the Baroness.

She, like he, was slender and delicate. Yet unlike him her skin was a deep mocha in hue and her hair was thick and black. From her brow grew two slender black horns that ended in needle sharp points, and her eyes were a deep gold flecked with red. A slim and prehensile tail coiled behind her, sliding around her ankle as she, too, looked on at her prepared meal with apprehension.

“I am to feed upon you,” she announced, sucking in a breath and standing up a little straighter, setting her jaw and narrowing her eyes. She was a Baroness. She was dignified. Her nipples were also tight upon her soft breasts and her throat felt a little dry.

Silver chains held the angel upon its back, naked and exposed, but even so he could look down the length of his own body at his fate and admire her. Well, what he could see of her before his own erection obscured his view. It bothered him and he squirmed and laid back again, biting his lip. He shouldn’t be so excited to be defiled in such a way. This was not dignified. This was gonna be disgusting.

His stomach tightened and a glistening, thick drip of precum leaked from his slit down to his belly, just clinging to a downy, nigh invisible hair or two.

The Baroness sucked in another breath and looked down at herself, imagining how she was looking to her prey’s eyes. Judging by his arousal, she felt a bloom of confidence and the first coiling satisfaction of feeding, and so she proceeded to climb into the altar, resting on her hip near to his own. Her dusky, sharp-nailed finger caressed along the quill of a pure white feather and she raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, waiting until the angel looked back up at her again.

He squirmed once more, his chains clinking loudly in the still, warm room, and breathily he asked, “Are you going to hurt me? Will this hurt?” He seemed genuinely scared by the wondered of it.

She pursed her lips and tapped the spade tip of her tail against the side of the altar twice. “Only if it excites me to hurt you.”

The angel wilted and closed his eyes tightly, the young man of seeming twenty mortal years showing no courage at all.

With a smile, she shifted closer and caressed his chest, the points of her nails softly teasing along his milky skin. The angel whimpered, flushing hotly, then his nosed wrinkled in confusion. As her taloned touch traveled lower and lower, the worry softened from his face and his lips parted, his head rolling to the side as his cock pulsed and his back slowly arched. To either side his wings flared slowly, the muted hiss of feathers caressing stone coming to her from all around. It was a delicious sound.

“You’re a beautiful creature,” the Baroness mused, shifting her position so that she could draw her nails lower, along his stomach.

“Yes,” he gasped, balling his hands into fists and curling his toes tightly.

“And this?” she whispered, pressing down on her nails just so, their passage leaving the lightest of pink trails in their wake.

“Ohhhhhhh,” he moaned, the chains rattling and clinking as he began to move upon the altar. His voice filled the empty stone space like a perfect chiming bell, the music of it settling into her ears with delight. She wanted him to do it again, and so she left pink soft trails along his hip. Again he moaned beautifully.

The Baroness licked her lips with pleasure and felt her own arousal growing. This would be her first time, and despite being anxious to achieve that milestone, she was now wanting to enjoy it. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so quick and brutal as she had dreamed, taking her pleasure whether the prey wanted it or not. This one was already curbing her hunger greatly and she had hardly touched him.

But she had touched him in the right way.

She had aroused him.

She was seducing him.

Her cheeks blushed with pleasure, and she crawled over to carefully kneel between his parted legs. A flick of her head collected the fall of her black hair to drape neatly over her right shoulder, and she braced her palms on his hips, clutching them possessively, but still softly. His cock stood up straight before her, curved slightly up towards his stomach and already flushed a deep, almost bruised pink. It looked so sensitive, and so she leaned down, pursed her lips, and gently blew warm air across the underside of his glans.

His hips curled upwards and he moaned pitifully, his wings shivering as she did so. More glistening precum dripped down to his belly, her lips blowing another gentle puff of air, and then another, growing closer and closer, warmer and wetter.

Beneath her palms she could feel his lean muscles slide beneath his skin. She could feel the strain of his needy body, the waves of desire radiating from him. It lured her in and made her tipsy on lust, until at last she pressed her lips to the tip of his cock. An upwelling of cum leaked out and ran along the curve of her upper lip and to the right, sliding slowly down the seam of her body and his. Her heartbeat quickened, and she slowly slid her tongue out to taste that pure, perfect drop. It was musky, salty, and ever so slightly sweet. It tasted of fleshy pursuits and lust and need, and she swallowed it down with a soft moan, quickly sliding her tongue back over his smooth head for another taste.

“Ohhhhhh!” the angel moaned pitifully, roiling slowly under her. “Please!” he begged, his breath ragged with anticipation.

She didn’t realize what he meant for a moment, until she began to open her mouth and take his cock head in past her lips and over her tongue. The Baroness’ cheeks hollowed as she suckled on him, drawing up more of that flavor that she craved, her skin prickling with excitement. As the angel began to buck again, her grip on his hips tightened, her talons pressing into his skin enough to dimple it but not draw blood. It was enough to tame the angel’s excesses for the moment, and she began to slowly bob on his cock, sucking him with her tight, full lips.

The tips of her pointed ears blushed hotly and pulsed with her heartbeat, and every time she took him further into her mouth, the sound of his pleasure caused an ache between her thighs, deep within. Cautiously she released his hip with her right hand and felt between her legs at her pussy lips, now soft and hot and oh so wet. They were sensitive and even the lightest touch of her finger made her shiver, her back dipping. Arousal leaked around her fingers, and the lightest caress of air over that slit made her moan into his cock, the slight points of her fangs massaging without doing any harm.

Without truly thinking about it, she lifted her head from his cock and swallowed the cum-laced-saliva coating her tongue while looking the angel in the eyes, her own narrowed with excitement and hunger. The angel was flushing hotly and shivered, biting his lip as she crawled up along his body and straddled his hips, her belly lowering to press against his. The small puddle of precum that had leaked there onto his skin slid between them as she brought her right hand to his mouth. Her glistening digits were reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and he lifted his head to obediently and gently suckle them clean.

The feeling of his hot, soft tongue and lips on her fingers made the Baroness swallow and close her eyes, her hips slowly griding her hot and willing flesh against the curve of his rigid cock. He felt so good against her, his slick, velvety, hot skin against her own was a dark sorcery that she didn’t find out but accepted without doubt or question. They needed to be joined together, as deeply as they could. It had to happen.

It had to happen now.

She moved her hand away from his mouth and pushed herself up to kneel over him, one hand braced on his slender chest while the other felt for his cock between her legs. As she felt him she stroked him, enjoying the feel of his hard flesh, of his thickness, of his perfect cock. Her tail coiled around his left shin at the knee with excitement, then squeezed as she positioned him and slowly, oh so slowly, eased herself down.

They both held their breath as she pressed, her brows knitting as her body at first denied him admittance. Her impatience drew a soft, irritated hiss from her throat, until at last her pussy relented and his cock entered her tight passage.

The feel was both perfection and pain, and she gasped and bit her lip. Was he too big? He had fit into her mouth, how could he not fit where she was meant to take the cock flesh? Was she… built incorrectly? Impossible. Her family line was far too good at what they did to make a descendant that couldn’t feed. Perhaps he was simply far too big, and they had given her a male that was misshapen. It frustrated her for some moments, and she was about to bark out her displeasure at him when a shiver, then two, finally allowed her body to relax and he slid in slowly and comfortably.

All doubt turned to ecstasy, and the Baroness’ worries evaporated like sweat from heated skin. He filled her to perfection, the curves of her gentle, soft backside lighting upon his thighs at long last. Her cheeks flushed so hotly that they stung, and her nipples ached. Saliva welled up in her mouth and she had to swallow frequently or risk the indignity of drooling. When she opened her eyes, the distinction of the room was gone, and all that was far from her was hazy, the lights so much brighter. But near to her, beneath her, the angel practically glowed. He was radiant in his pleasure, every beat of his heart lifting the frisson of golden light from his skin towards her. It coiled towards her like burning smoke, sinking into her skin and flesh as she slowly rose and fell upon him, feeling him slide in and out of her tight, sensitive grip.

Her hands upon his chest kneaded at him as she rode him, her talons dimpling his flushing skin, her fingertips brushing slowly over his tight pink nipples. Every caress made his cock thicken within her, a thing she verified with a sliding inspection from her tail spade. It smoothly passed over the base of his cock and over his tightening sack, cupping it warmly before the tip drew along the tightened ring of her flesh around his wet, straining rod, and finally her tail came to her as yet unexplored hood.

By chance her tail slid upwards farther, and she suddenly bucked and moaned, her thighs and pussy tightening. She swallowed, then slowly ran her spade over that wet fold of flesh, and again she shivered and felt an explosion of pleasure sling up along her nerves. Her hips picked up speed, and she rode him faster, pleasuring herself with her spade as she braced on his chest. The heated wet sound of their breathing filled the chamber, accompanied by the clink of chains and the hissing frisson of the angels feathered wings upon the stone.

Something was building, something she wanted. Something she needed. Her face flushed hotter and she held her breath, gritting her teeth. Her hips moved erratically now, pressing down and rolling, lifting up, riding for a few moments then stilling, then beginning again, until at last she bucked and cried out, gripping at his chest so tightly that a trickle of blood was summoned. Her body clamped down onto his cock like a vice and she shivered, whimpering, overcome with the intensity of her orgasm. The angel’s blood mingled with his sweat and pooled at his collarbone, just in the hollow of his throat, unnoticed.

More of that fiery smoke and vapor lifted from the heavenly creature beneath her, more and more, until he arched and cried out, his hips pushed up against hers as deeply as he could. Within her his cock emptied itself in thick pulses, filling her embrace with his holy cum. To her eyes, though, it was as if fire had erupted from him and flowed into her. It was hot and energizing and felt comforting. Aches left her joints that she hadn’t realized were there, and her hunger disappeared.

Slowly, slowly she pushed away from his chest and kneeled upright, her head tipping back. Her skin was sweaty and tingled everywhere. There was so much, too much. It made her dizzy, and she fell forward upon her hands once more, gripping at the marble to either side of his chest. Her chest heaved and she shivered, the fire from him flowing through her and out through her back in two sheets of flame. Large, glowing limbs lifted up within the fiery eruptions and spread from behind her shoulder blades, webbing growing in between each batlike finger and with scintillating light.

The Baroness whimpered and buried her face in the angel’s chest, her hair spilling over his skin and down to the marble beneath. Wave after wave of flame licked out to add to the spreading hellish wings behind her, until at last the maelstrom snuffed out and cooled. Steam lifted from her back and her new limbs, limbs she slowly and carefully moved. They were coated with dry soot for just a moment, but that sifted away to the floor to reveal flesh and webbing the color of her skin that darkened down towards the edges.

She nervously pushed herself back up, rubbing at her arms and looking at her wings, overwhelmed by the experience. The angel looked up at her, exhausted, but he slowly smiled. “You’re like me,” he whispered, and he moved his wings slightly.

Seeing him, she smiled just a little and moved her wings the same way. “Yes. What is your name?” Some lesser impulse made her tuck a lock of white hair behind his ear. She couldn’t bear to see it get in his eyes.

“Artiya’il,” he replied on a warm breath.

“I am Leviathan,” she offered, and at an uncertain look from him, she whispered with a shy smile, “My line felt I was suited for greatness and chose a great name. But I am not the original.”

Their laughter was a gentle ripple of pleasant noise, interrupted by the heavy opening of the door. Inside peaked the demon priest that had assigned her the chamber in the first place. Both fell silent, and the Baroness looked over her shoulder at the priest.

“Does this creature meet your highness’ expectations?”

The Baroness looked back down at the angel, who smiled up at her, and she smiled back down at him. “Yes. I will be keeping this one.”

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