“A-a request?” she squeaked, ignoring the tacit threat.The end result.“I’ll have to think on that, I suppose.”
“Think quickly, sweetling. Bribery, embezzlement, defrauding a charity . . . your naughty list was jam-packedbeforethis night, and now . . . well, you’ve outdone yourself. But I do so love a bit of civility.”
A stone turned in her stomach, the realization that the beast knew everything, making all of her machinations seem rather pointless. She wasn’t in charge at all, and she hadn’t been from the instant he knocked at her door. The music swelled and she was spun, returning to the strength of his arms without so much as breaking a step, a sudden weightlessness dissolving the stone. She was reaping what she’d sown and had long ago accepted this possible outcome.Well, notthisoutcome, but punishment surely.It wasn’t imprisonment or public castigation from her peers. The creature would whip her, torture her, would go out of his way to break her spirit, but she could at least enjoy another dance before all that.
“I think what I’d like most,” she managed in a tremulous voice, still playing the role of the perfect hostess, “is to keep dancing like this, for at least a bit longer. Is that an acceptable request?”
“I was expecting precisely that, sweetling,” he chuckled, claws lightly grazing her skin as the music changed again.
Every time they took a turn at the corners of the room, his hand steadied at the small of her back and she leaned into him on the turn. At first, it had been a way to keep their footwork neatly matched, but her pelvis pressed to his wide hips in an unexpectedly delicious way, one that soon had her seeking the friction even as they glided in a straight line. A tilt of her hips, a quickening in her steps, and soon she was able to keep the pressure as if their bodies were fused.
Her actions did not go unnoticed by the beast. She gasped when he turned abruptly, taking advantage of her momentary bobble to grip her leg by the knee, lifting it over his soot-black hip, opening her in a way that made her see stars as he ground their bodies together.
“Is this more to your liking, sweetling?”
Davina was unable to answer, her breath suddenly coming in great, heaving pants. She was no longer an active participant in the dance as the creature lifted her just high enough to continue moving without her free toes dragging on the ground. The cutaway nature of her dress created a dramatic silhouette — the frothy, swinging skirt just barely brushing her knees, cascading in a graceful tail at her back with a slight train. It had been cumbersome to flit about all evening without dragging, but the effect had been well worth it. Now though . . . now the dress’s design was positively indecent, raising the hemline over her thigh as the creature held up her leg. Her undergarments were flimsy and thin, and the spread open lips of her sex were pressed flush to the coarseness of his furred body, rubbing against her as he continued the waltz without her.
Another turn as the corner of the room, the hand that pressed to her dropping to cup her bottom as they whirled, a white spark of stars as his leg moved forward, grinding against her tingling pearl in a way that made her shudder.Thiswas not at all what she had anticipated from her midnight visitor, but all men, she had learned, were the same. Easily turned, easily led. This goat-man would surely be no different, she thought, once more certain she could control the situation.If he decides he wants to fuck you instead of punishing you, are you really going to complain? Let him have his fill and be on his way.
Strings and horns, festive waltzes and foxtrots, one after another, the music continued long beyond what she thought the record might be capable of. Her partner never slowed, hitching her leg a bit higher on his hip until he practically carried her like a doll. Davina was reminded of illicit afternoons in her youth, sitting on the corner of the dryer as it tossed and rumbled, bringing herself to weak orgasms before she even knew the word for the physical sensation she experienced. The varying pressure of her dance partner’s body as he moved was not constant enough for her to reach that level of satisfaction, but she still found herself gasping on every turn, a lightning bolt of pleasure making her arch against him every few steps.
When the hand holding her against him slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, Davina’s manners failed her, all of her witty retorts drowning in a flood of arousal. Her lingerie was modest but expensive — beribboned silk, tissue-thin and soft to the touch, and the sensation of a long, thick finger grazing her cleft over the silk nearly made her light-headed as he turned once more. Back and forth, a slow, feather-lite massage against her clit, she felt the points of claws and the slight press of his knuckles as the Viennese waltz slowed to one of English measure, and all too soon the delicate silk was damp and sticky with her arousal. He caressed her through the silk as adroitly as he danced, and despite her desire to remain in control, her body wanted more.
“It seems to me, sweetling,” he purred into her ear, a red snake of a tongue darting out to taste the skin of her neck, “that what you’re most in need of is a good fucking. Perhaps if your husband had been a bit more astute in ensuring he was taking care of you in that department, you might not have gotten up to the mischief that you did. What is that silly saying? Spare the rod, spoil the child? Well, the same is true with ambitious little wives. Spare the rod, and she’ll cause all manner of trouble with her excess energy. Keep her well fucked and she’ll be well behaved. Fortunately for you, sweetling, I believe in laying down a rod of both pleasureandpunishment.”
She could feel that rod, rising up between their bodies like a club, hot and thick, pressed to her front. She had only just wondered what it might feel like pressed to her own dripping sex when the monster relieved her of her ruined panties with a slice of his claws, pleasure and heat blooming through her as she gasped. Magic seemed to hold her in place as he positioned her legs around his waist, his leading hand still gripping hers as he moved through the dance alone. She was wide open now, his swollen member flush against her slick folds, and as he turned at the corner of the room, she was able to feel the ridges on his cock, sliding over her swollen bud in a way that made her cry out, desperate for completion.A rod of both pleasure and punishment.
The monster’s laugh was a slow rumble that began in his belly and moved up his chest. She could feel it vibrate against her, felt it reverberate against her body, leaving his obscene mouth in a dark wave, like plush black velvet. He would not help her further. This was the start of her punishment, she realized: set her on fire and let her smolder without fanning the flames.
Davina was gasping, the need to come slowly obliterating all other desires with which she’d started the night, as his every turn gave her a hint of the climax she might experience with her legs wrapped around his waist in such a way . . . but she’d need to do the work herself. When she whined in frustration, the volume of the music increased, his shining red eyes slipping closed with a serene smile on his face. There was something intoxicating about the smell of him, the curious combination of cold and spice and sparkling citrus making her lean into him to inhale, the heady mix only adding to her arousal. A shift of her hips and she gasped, finding the friction she needed, if only for a moment, exactly what she needed . . . she realized what she’d need to do, her cheeks coloring.
Heat pooled in her belly as he continued to waltz, her heartbeat thudding in her ears, matching the pulsing between her thighs. Davina wondered if he could feel it, could tell how wet she was; if he could feel her quickened pulse.Of course he can, this is a game to him.She’d started the night thinking she could control the outcome, not realizing her guest would be a game player himself, but shecouldcontrol this. If he wants to play games, let’s show him how well we can play.
The first raising of her hips was almost enough to cause her to lose her grip on his neck as she slid, the swollen lips of her cunt wrapped around the equally swollen rod of his cock, the weight of her body making her drop like she was sliding down a fire pole. Once . . . twice . . . the third time she raised herself against him she cried out, a yelp of unrestrained pleasure that broke through the music. Her shame was lost then, the pleasure of his ridged cock against her clit the only thing in the world that seemed important. Davina humped against him like a beast, as mindless as an animal, chasing a wave of pleasure that seemed increasingly in her reach. Her dance partner laughed again at her undignified display, but she was too far gone to care. When she came at last, the lights of the tree towering above them blurred into a million pinpricks of rainbow light, her core clenching in time to the music as the wave of ecstasy carried her away.
She didn’t have a chance to react when he lifted her, guiding the bulbous head of his cock to her opening.
“I’m going to stretch this hungry little cunt of yours,” he smiled, a flash of fangs and glimmering red eyes, “and fuck you the way you should have been fucked all along, sweetling, hard enough to knock the naughtiness right out of you.”
It was too much, she wanted to scream as he breached her, every inch feeling like he was stretching her far beyond her body’s ability, certain he would protrude right through her belly. He was squeezed in tight, so tight, a burn that made tears well in her eyes when he bottomed out with a grunt. She sucked in a breath when he began to move, prepared to scream . . . moaning instead when she felt the press of those ridges within her, the tight squeeze of his cock rubbing her in a way that nearly made her sob. When he began to use her in earnest, Davina knew she was lost. There would be no playing games with this creature, no gaining the upper hand. He fucked her like a toy, gripping her hips and raising her up and down the long, thick length of his cock like a sleeve.
“It’s such a shame, dear heart,” he said in a conversational tone as she fell apart, the sounds coming from her throat once more making her sound like a mindless animal. “If you had been fucked half so well and punished regularly, it may not have come to this. You might have been a docile as a lamb, your mind too clouded by pleasure to come up with your devious schemes. If only . . . too late for regrets, though.”
Her muscles contracted painfully around him as she came a second time, a wail that cut through the swelling strings, clenching around his cock and flooding him in her heat, the room spinning wildly. She cried out again when they dropped against the staircase, the lights of her beautiful tree nearly blinding her. It was his turn to rut her like a wild animal, fucking into her hard enough that it nearly made her teeth rattle.
“As I said, it’s too late, unfortunately. I’m glad to have offered you this final accommodation though, sweetling. Lovely manners deserve a reward, no matter how naughty the recipient. Thank you for the wine and the lovely dance.”
He came in an explosion of burning heat and her legs seized at the pressure of it, the obscene, sloppy squelching of their bodies drowning out the music as he thrust through his climax. She was able to feel him filling her, overflowing her, felt his hot release running down her thighs and pooling under her ass, spoiling her dress. When he pulled out, it was like unstoppering a bottle. His spend gushed out of her, her muscles spasming anew at the unexpected emptiness. Davina watched as the viscous fluid dripped off the step, mingling with the spilled wine and pooling blood, a grotesque display.
“If your husband had fucked the naughtiness out of you, he might not have wound up like this,” he mused, gesturing to the rigor-struck crumple at the base of the steps, the broken crystal framing him like snowflakes.
“He shouldn’t have argued with me over the wine. He couldn’t just leave it be, couldn’t let it go. Do you know how much wine he has down there? Why does it matter if I took one fucking cask for my party. He wouldn’t have even known it was missing if the servants had gotten rid of the barrel as I asked. Can you blame me for making sure I had my own income? A girl needs to be able to support herself when she’s thrown out in the cold.”
His laughter was an echoing ring, the supernaturally-extended record finally coming to an end.
“You-you’re going to punish me now.” Her voice trembled, but she would persevere, Davina told herself. He could beat her and whip her, torture any way he wanted. She would persevere. She always had.
“I’m afraid not, dear heart. Krampus’s punishments are for those still able to be saved. It’s too late for you, Davina Devlin, but I am glad we shared a dance.”
