LOST BLOODSKYE EPISODE

BY LIRCROWFALL

Skye awoke with an ache in her shoulders. It took her a moment to get her bearings. She was still in al-Rashid’s dungeon, but in a room she hadn’t seen. She turned her head and pain shot down her neck and arms.

She was suspended in an X-shape by her wrists and ankles, but was face down, so that her back was arched in a U. She wore, again, the polished steel cuffs and collar that were lined with hundreds of tiny points. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious in that position, but if the numbness in her hands and feet were any indication -- not to mention the soreness in her shoulders -- it was several hours.

She heard a door open behind her and al-Rashid and his teenage daughter, Darlak, entered. The djinnayah king wore his usual: black leather boots and pants. Darlak had on black leather pants that laced up the sides, leather boots and a tight black leather vest that left the girl’s rock-hard midsection exposed. A thick studded belt supported two short chains that dangled at each of Darlak’s hips. Skye, as much as she hated the girl and was sure she was going to kill the blonde demon someday, couldn’t help but be impressed by the girl’s beauty.

“Good morning Skye,” al-Rashid said. “Today we are trying something new.”

He wheeled a cart over so that it was positioned just under Skye’s distended stomach and chest. On top of the cart was a rectangular tub full of water. Al-Rashid turned a crank and a jack lifted the tub closer to Skye’s naked little girl flesh.

“You may want to pull yourself up with your arms and legs,” al-Rashid said as the water got to within inches of Skye’s pale skin. “This is holy water.”

“Where would you get holy wa--”

Skye stopped when she heard a hissing sound and felt something burn her chest just above her belly button. It was holy water. She pulled herself up, holding her lithe 11-year-old body up with her taught arm and leg muscles as al-Rashid continued to crank the basin higher. Her body was parallel with the floor now, held in place by the strength of her half-vampire body. The water sloshed just inches below her chest and stomach.

“Much better, Skye,” al-Rashid said as he walked to the side of the room. “We don’t want any permanent damage to that beautiful ivory skin of yours.”

Darlak ran her fingernails down Skye’s back. Despite herself, Skye was getting slightly aroused. With her enhanced senses, Skye could smell the girl’s perfume -- a hint of lavendar and something more alluring, though she couldn’t tell what -- as soon as the teenage dominatrix entered the room. Now Skye could identify the scent: Darlak’s sex. The girl wanted Skye, and Skye could smell the wetness forming in Darlak’s pussy.

Al-Rashid returned with three large cinder blocks. He lifted them each one-handed and put them on Skye: two rested across her back and one across her bare ass. In her weakened state -- they were feeding her just enough blood to stay alert and endure their tortures, but not enough to overpower her chains and escape -- it was a struggle for Skye to keep herself suspended above the holy water with all that weight on her. She felt her muscles begin to quiver, and sweat broke out all over her trembling body.

Skye gasped when something touched her pussy, and then she realized it was Darlak. Darlak’s lips, specifically. The teenager was eating Skye out, sucking and nibbling on Skye’s tender, hairless pussy, giving it soft, wet long kisses alternated with short flicks of her tongue. Whatever about the girl’s parentage and the fact that Skye hated her, she had to admit that Darlak knew what she was doing. Within minutes she had Skye’s clitoris fully engorged and her vagina soaking wet.

Darlak took Skye’s clit into her mouth and sucked it like a pacifier, then let it slide out and licked it like a lollipop, then kissed it like it was the effigy of her goddess, then started the process over again. Skye didn’t want to come, didn’t want to be aroused, but Darlak was too much. Her tongue worked like a hungry lover, caressing and teasing Skye’s pussy for what must have been 20 minutes or so. And just as Skye was about to come, Darlak stopped.

The lacuna lasted merely a second, but it was long enough for Skye to moan, without realizing it, “Don’t stop.” She heard al-Rashid laugh and knew she’d made a mistake by letting her desire show.

Then something cold and metal snapped hard against her pussy. Skye screamed, and tried to turn her head to see what Darlak was doing, but she couldn’t see around the cinder blocks on her back. It happened again, then again. Skye whelped each time, then it became clear what they were doing.

The two short chains hanging at Darlak’s hips when the girl entered the dungeon were chain whips, about six inches long, not including the handles. But they were made of coarse metal, and their thwacks were disproportionately painful to the size of the whips, especially in Skye’s already aroused, highly sensitive state.

Darlak sped up her assault, double-weilding the whips and striking with uncanny precision on Skye’s inflamed, hungry clitoris. Skye tried to writhe in her chains to avoid the blows, but the cinder blocks, while adding to her pain and the taughtness of her muscles, also kept her in place. Darlak meanwhile lashed away with the precision and speed of a machine, never missing her mark.

Skye, aroused and nearly at climax before the pussy whipping began, couldn’t stop. She did not want to cum to the painful kisses of the chain whips, but she had no choice. Her body was stretched like a bow to its physical limits, and her only possibility of release was to cum, to cum hard to the beating she was getting at the hands of an immortal dominatrix. Skye clenched her teeth to try to fight it, but it was too late. Every ounce of her being was concentrated in her pussy, in the throbbing clitoris that was getting brutally punished, and she could hold it no longer.

Skye came with a scream and a terrible shuddering that pulsed along her entire little girl’s body. Darlak kept whipping, gauging how long Skye’s cumming would last. The half-vampire captive’s screams echoed around the dungeon for nearly a full minute before she was spent. Darlak leaned in, her face between Skye’s thighs, and gave the tortured girl a final kiss before backing away and hooking her chain whips back onto her belt.

Skye felt steam on her stomach. She glanced down, her vision blurry, and saw that her dripping sweat was making the holy water steam up. Her entire body heaved with each breath she took as she tried to recover from her orgasm and still keep herself suspended above the holy water.

“Give her exactly two minutes to recover,” al-Rashid said, “and then do it again.”

Darlak purred.

They actually did it two more times. Each time, Darlak would lick and suck and kiss Skye’s pussy until Skye was nearly ready to cum, and then she would back away and immediately start whipping Skye’s starving pussy. To Skye, it felt like stars were exploding and forming inside her body. Entire galaxies -- coalescing and swirling in the cosmos -- were concentrated in Skye’s 11-year-old pussy, in the tiny point of her clitoris, in the vibrations cast by her sexual rhythms.

After she came the third time, al-Rashid took the cinder blocks off one at a time. He lowered the holy water bin and wheeled it away, and Skye collapsed. There was no strength left in her body. She hung, quivering, sweating and heaving, helpless in her chains.

Al-Rashid took a handful of her chin-length, fiery red hair, and yanked Skye’s head up so she looked into his eyes.

“You took a massive step today, Skye,” he said.

“Toward killing you,” she said. He just smiled.

“You came to the kiss of a whip. You came three times against your will. You came because we wanted you to. Soon you will be nothing more than a ravenous beast. You will accept your tortures because they please us. You will beg for punishment, because the more torture you take, the more we’ll let you cum. It will be your only release from an eternity of pain.

“Soon, you will be my willing, begging pain slut.”