The Demon and His Plaything

4| Their next scene

She sat on the bed this time. Keeping her back pressed against the headboard, she took deep breaths. He should be here soon. Their planning had been the same as before, via text messages throughout the rest of the week. Her requests bounced around her mind, flashes of worry, quickly replaced by excitement and blooming arousal.

She had already tied the pattern of rope around her–only for show and sensation and not to restrain herself. There was more rope for however he wanted to tie her up. Her hood and blindfold were on.

The soft steps out in the hall were the first indication of his arrival, his scent awakening her senses as he entered the room. She liked his scent, like leather and licorice.

He didn't say anything straight away again. She could hear him place a bag down and unzip it. The sound sent a delicious thrill in her. A few more minutes and she heard him move some furniture around–she thought he might be moving the freestanding mirror closer to the bed. That excited her too. She was practically twitching by the time she heard him remove his clothes.

"Lay down."

She wiggled her body down the bed. She felt his fingers take her hand and she let him move her arm out and away from her. His movement passed through to her sightless experience via touch, the knot familiar. It would tighten the more she pulled. Her breath quickened.

He swiftly finished tying each of her limbs and affixing them to the bed. She had chosen this hotel purely because their beds had posts. She'd stayed here with her family before.

"Now isn't this pretty," he mumbled. She heard a click and a whirling. He was taking photos. Mmmm, she thought. Why use a Polaroid? She didn't care if he took photos on his phone–plus then she could have a copy.

She felt him kneel between her legs. "You've been waiting for me long?"

"No, sir." That was a lie. She had been sitting there for two hours.

He tsked. She tilted her head–had he wanted her to say yes.

His weight shifted and she could feel his breath on her thigh, across her s*x and then as he hovered over her body up her stomach. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin.

A desperate moan escaped her as she waited.

"You missed me didn't you?"

"Yes, sir. I missed you so much." She bit her lip to catch any other words that might slip out without prompt.

His fingers brushed her n****e lightly, a deep pleasant thrum sparking inside her. "You want my c**k, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." She wanted to say more but he had said she could only speak when spoken to.

He was quiet. "Tell me how much."

She took a breath. "It's all I've thought of, sir."

“When?”

“Every waking moment,” she rushed. It was true.

"What do you want?"

A sharp inhale. "I want to taste you in my mouth. I want you to choke me with it."

He chuckled low. "That all?"

"No, sir. I want you to f**k my ass." She waited only a beat before adding, “I want you to hurt me.”

"Hmmm." He moved back from above her to his spot in between her legs again. "What if I do nothing? Just leave you here tied up?"

She trembled. She didn't know what to say so she stayed quiet. He laughed at her physical response. It wasn't cruel. It wasn't derisive. He sounded pleased. His delight created a rising sense of pride in her.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do." He climbed off the bed. She could hear him rummaging in his bag, and then the tinkling of metal. "I'm going to make you feel so good, you'll be begging for my c**k. And if you're good I'll give it to you."

"I will be, sir." Cold dampness set a chill in between her legs–all the build-up was already maddening.

He climbed back on the bed, but he didn't touch her. "Your p***y already looks so wet for me, is it?"

She nodded. "It is, sir."

She felt his finger brush against her clit, just glancing it. She raised to him instinctively. He made a noise in his throat and the pressure of his fingers increased–pushing against her firmly. She moaned and moved her hips under the sensation.

"Already so responsive. Your p***y was made for me and you'll soon realise it. Your mouth and ass aren't enough for me."

She gasped as he brought his tongue into the mix. A spike of pleasure as he slipped his fingers into her had her pull her arm reflexively–the rope tightened as designed and she felt it bite into her skin. She hissed at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

She was right at the edge when he stopped, withdrawing his fingers.

"Godrick!" She cried out at the loss of him, craning her neck.

"Will you give me your p***y?"

She hesitated. She didn't really need to wait for her mate–most Wolves f****d around quite a bit before settling down. But, she didn't think she'd be lucky enough to find a mate that wanted to do the things she did, so she wanted to wait for them. Plus, the game of withholding, was fun for her.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir."

He was deathly quiet, with no sound of movement making its way to Samantha for a long time. "I'm going to hurt you then."

His tone had her trembling.

This is what she wanted, wasn't it?

He continued, "I could have made you feel so good." She heard the metal tinkling. The cold metal bit into her n*****s and clit where he clamped them. She gasped but said nothing.

He pulled on the connecting chain and all three points pulled. She cried out at that.

He relaxed the hold but kept it taught. "This what you want?" He didn't wait for a response. "If I remember correctly you said I could hurt you any way I wanted. Yeah?" He pulled again without waiting for her response again. She felt her body constrict, the ropes pulling tighter still.

"Yes, sir!" She cried out.

She breathed rapidly as he let go completely. He lifted her up and slid his thighs under her. She could feel his erection against her inner thigh. The sound of the lube bottle was familiar, his fingers entering and forcefully plunging her back passage, both applying and very hastily preparing her for what was coming. Only her moans filled the air.

This scene was as carefully planned as the last. Things would be different this time–Godrick had been gentle their first time. Not this time.

This is what she wanted.

"You'd rather this, wouldn't you?" He asked gruffly. Removing his fingers, he entered her roughly. The pain was sharp and she fought to relax, knowing tensing was only hurting worse. He pulled the chains at the same time and she struggled to draw a breath to release the scream inside her. Her limbs pulled against the ropes again–but she held back her strength. The bonds would be easily broken with her strength. She could stop this at any time.

Delicious pain spiked in her extremities and at her center. a point in her chest, a tension in bracing, a freedom at giving in.

His voice was shaky when he asked her again if this was what she wanted. A mixture of awe and accountability in his voice, stacked onto the assault on her body, heightening the experience.

Finding her breath, she screamed in pain. Her scream seemed to reverberate between them and she grinned as she thrashed. Her words came next. "Yes! Thank you, sir. You honour me. Ahhh! I'm not worthy of…" her voice got caught again as he slid his fingers into her pillowy front channel. He didn't ease up on his thrusts or the hold he had on the clamps. She could smell her blood in the air.

Amongst the combination of intense pain and pleasure, his moans and grunts filtered through, her own cries freeing in their raw honesty.

Her cries became moans as his fingers curled in her, the sensation of him moving in both of her holes consuming her, his fingers immediately hitting the right spot–the pleasure a delicious interruption from the pain.

"Oh Goddess, yes…" she uttered uncontrollably.

"You only pray to me," he ordered.

"Yes, Godrick, sir. Oh… Godrick!"

She bucked as she came, the rushing climax hitting hard. She wasn't sure how, but the ropes pulled tighter still. She mewled long and low as Godrick finished in her again taking his final thrusts deep. At some point, he'd released the clamps but the pain was still present.

She heard his shaky breath as he took a couple of pictures.

He climbed over her and straddled her waist. She heard a click and then the sound of ropes being cut. She tilted her head, interested that he had a knife. He loosened the bindings around her wrists and points around her where she was bound so the ropes fell away, licking the cuts and moaning at her cries of pain.

"You took that so well. Now clean me."

Using her hands to hold him, she took his semi firm p***s and licked him clean. She felt his arousal start again very quickly, his shaft hardening in her hands. She looked up at him sightlessly. "Yeah," he said, almost bored, "I think you already know what you do to me."

She took him deep into her mouth, listening to his breath to find what he liked. This was different to last time. For one, she had her hands and this wasn't about dominating her. This was about making him feel good. He climbed off her and sat against the headboard, bringing her with him. She reached across his abdomen feeling his hard stomach muscles.

"How are you so sweet after what I did to you?" She didn't answer considering her mouth was full. "My beautiful cunt. You're going to be dreaming of my c**k for the rest of your days. After you're married with a family," he groaned, close to cumming already. "He can't have this. He'll never please you like me… ah…"

She greedily drank him, as he rubbed the back of her head. She tensed for a second worried he'd pull the hood off. But he didn't. She lay her head in his lap, his hands gentle as they caressed her upper back, gripping the back of her neck in a comforting way. A pique of interest from her wolf at the controlling sensation she felt with his hand gripping her there.

After what felt like too soon, he climbed out of the bed. She lay there as he had left her, on her stomach.

The sounds of running water met Samantha's ears only a moment after, Godrick swiftly returning back to the room. Samantha's inbuilt instinct traced Godricks movement in the room, the combination of hearing and sense of smell helping her imagine him getting dressed and packing his items away.

A quiet contemplation settled over Samantha as she waited, resting her head on the back of her hands.

She felt his hands roll her over. Tenderly, he picked her up, cradling her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively, noting how broad his shoulders felt. Images of photos he'd sent her, from the neck down also, helped fill in the blanks of her mind's eye. Not for the first time, she had an impulse to see what he looked like.

In a hushed moment, he took her into the bathroom and sat her in the filled tub. The warmth stung as it hit her sore spots, but very quickly felt soothing.

She sighed, sinking into its depths, "Thank you, sir."

Without another word, he left.

~*~

When Samantha came out of the bathroom she saw he had left a box on the bed. It had a note not to open it until he said. She got dressed and took the box with her. It was going to be tricky to get it back into the pack but she'd make do.

It was a short commute to the edge of the city limits before it made its way to the wilderness her pack was located in. Knowing she couldn't waste any time, she walked briskly towards the woods. She had a small leather backpack near the edge, where she put her clothes and wedged the box into it. Thankfully it just fit.

She shifted her form and grabbed the bag with her mouth. Her wolf was large and a similar colour to the rich warm reddish brown of her hair. She trotted down the path and then navigated to where she knew the guards would have a blind spot. She'd fix that when she became Luna, but until then it was her only way in and out.

Sneaking into her room was easy. Her parents were very busy and Sunday nights were set aside for their date night. Gag, she thought. Her brother stayed at a friend's and she had the place to herself.

She sat the box in her dressing room, on the plinth where her jewellery was stored. The hood and ropes were put away. She'd thrown the cut ones away but kept a piece of it that had her blood on it. Acting on impulse, she smelt it, scenting him on it too, where he'd touched it.

She climbed into bed without changing into her pyjamas. Her body was sore and spent. She checked her phone and saw he had sent photos of the Polaroids to her. She chewed her lower lip as she looked at them. There was something about the grainy quality that made them feel more real.

That night, she quickly slipped into sleep.

~*~