Chapter 4 of a modern erotic fairy tale

The Iron Tongue of Midnight – Chapter 4

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by Simone Francis

Chapter 4 of this modern erotic fairy tale

Start at the beginning – The Prologue

Chapter 4

Rebecca awoke with a start, it was dark and her first thought was that she had slept the evening away in the glade. The ground now felt uncomfortably hard and her arms felt heavy as if something was holding her wrists. She sat up, groggy with sleep.

She must be dreaming again as she was naked except for silver manacles that encircled her wrists and ankles. The wrist manacles were linked together by a chain that passed through a ring secured to something around her neck. The chains rattled as she brought her hand up to feel the thick leather collar. Chains from the metal rings around her ankles snaked off into the darkness.

She looked up at what appeared to be the ceiling of a large vaulted chamber. She wriggled and found she was prevented from putting her hands down by the short length of the chain through the collar and felt a cold stone floor pressing roughly against her buttocks.

She looked around, her head moving slowly in short jerks and tipping from side to side, as she tried to work out where she was, or where she was dreaming she was. There seemed to be no single light source in the room just a strange glow that appeared to emanate from the walls. It shifted continuously to create pools of light and shadow that ebbed and flowed around the chamber as if reflected off gently moving water.

She opened her mouth and heard the air hiss over her teeth as she gasped. The shadowy male figure she had imagined in her previous dreams stood almost hidden in the darkness in front of her. He appeared to be wearing a long cloak that almost brushed the floor. She peered into the gloom trying to make out his face but the shifting light seemed always to leave it in shadow giving her just the occasional tantalising glimpse of his strong features.

I am Lucien, welcome.

Rebecca cocked her head like a puppy. She wasn’t sure whether she had actually heard his voice or whether it had come from inside her head. Confused she started to struggle to get up.

‘On your knees.’

That voice she had definitely heard.

Rebecca tried to turn round to see the source of the command and caught sight of a woman behind her. She seemed to resemble the girl she had followed into the wood but she looked older, the beauty was still there but her skin was less alabaster, more weathered into creases as if someone had lightly crumpled sheets of paper and there were fine lines around her eyes and mouth. The idea that she could be the girl’s mother flashed into her mind; how can I dream about that she thought?

This version looked far less fragile than the apparition in the wood. There was no diaphanous costume; the garment she wore seemed to consist of two black leather straps, three to four centimetres wide that rose in a vee shape from between her legs and joined to a belt around her waist. The straps continued up over her breasts and hiding nothing but her nipples and looped over her shoulders. In her hand was a long, single-stranded, whip with a curious double handle.

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest but as she did so the woman grabbed her hair and forced her head down toward the floor. Rebecca wriggled uncomfortably onto he knees and fell forward with her palms flat on the stones. Something seemed to hold her there and she was also prevented from lifting her head by the chain between the manacles. She was acutely aware that she was now naked with her behind in the air. It seemed that her dream was turning into a nightmare and fervently began to wish that she would wake up.

You must obey Danika, the silky smooth male voice was in her head again. It is best otherwise she will instruct you.

Rebecca felt Danika’s fingers release their grip on her hair but the unseen force seemed to continue to press down on her shoulders keeping her prostrate.

There was a swish and Rebecca squealed more in indignation than in pain as she felt something sting her buttocks. The bitch had hit her with the whip. OK, she thought, definitely time to wake up now. She wriggled against the chains trying to make them bite into her hoping that the subconscious pain would bring her round but something still held her in place.

The whip hissed again and she felt a second harder blow that caused a searing flash to burn through her. Before she had time to draw breath and protest another stroke fell. Not even in her schooldays had she ever experienced a thrashing and she squealed in protest.

Danika was getting into a rhythm and the shocks began to tingle through the whole of Rebecca’s body. The sensations flooded across her back and seemed to trickle down her arms and legs. When yet another stinging blow landed Rebecca felt like she was being electrocuted, her body twisting in spasm against the restraint. Her mind seemed to be clouding and she felt as if she would pass out but slowly, through the mist, she began to feel that the whipping was having an unexpected effect on her.

She shook her head as she tried to think, It was something that she had read about, the idea of pain stimulating sexual pleasure. It had intrigued her but she had only ever imagined that she would be the one in Danika’s position never the supplicant on the floor. She could feel her nipples swelling and hardening as her blood pumped furiously into them before coursing down to swell the lips of her sex where there was the unmistakable slippery feeling of arousal.

Suddenly, just like the night before, she did not want to wake up. She felt something inside her stir as if a beast was waking, a voice inside her head murmured in a low growl, why was he just watching? She tried to push the thoughts away but this new Rebecca surged through her as more lashes landed. She wanted to be taken, used, to submit to his whims to satisfy her own desires. She wanted his cock back inside her.

Unexpectedly the whipping stopped and the voice in her head faded. It was like putting on a new suit of clothes but from the inside out. Danika moved silkily, like a cat, round to the front of Rebecca and stood glowering down at her before crouching on her haunches with her knees wide apart. She held the whip at the end of the handle where it joined the lash close to her own sex so that it jutted out towards Rebecca.

From her prone position, Rebecca could see that the handle was carved as large black phallus about nine inches long. Its girth was such that Danika’s hand only just fitted around it. About two-thirds of the way down the handle a second smaller curved phallus arched out like the guard on a sabre.

‘Pay homage to the whip.’

Rebecca could smell a heady concoction of Danika’s sweat and the unmistakable smell of a woman’s arousal on the handle. At first, she thought it must be Danika’s musk, then slowly she realised that this was the object that had been rammed into her in her fantasy in the wood.

Rebecca’s expression must have changed as Danika threw back her head and laughed.

‘Pay homage.’ she ordered again.

Rebecca hesitated, unsure of what was expected of her.

‘Clean it,’ Danika snarled, pushing the phallus against Rebecca’s mouth.

Tentatively Rebecca started to lick the tip of the handle tasting her own essence, then, as her excitement rose, she took as much of the rod as she could manage into her mouth sucking enthusiastically on the head before licking both the shafts clean.

Danika withdrew the whip handle and stood up. Rebecca saw the edge of the man’s dark cloak as he brushed past her. She sensed him standing behind her, his gaze roving over her as he admired Danika’s handiwork and her cheeks reddened to match her behind as she thought of the view he must be getting.

Her bottom was still sticking up proudly in the air and, if this was anything like the videos she had watched alone save for a second bottle of wine late at night, she realised it must be covered with a series of raised red welts and she was also sure that the lips of her exposed sex were open and shining with excitement.

She heard him move, just the slightest swish of his cloak, and then she winced as she felt his cool hands touch the bruised skin of her buttocks. She was again reminded of the night before and she let out a slight sigh as his hands caressed her bottom before his fingers strayed between her legs and lightly brushed the outer lips of her sex. Gently the fingers parted the swollen flesh, exploring the outer folds; their gentle touch pushing her to an even higher desire and she felt her other persona stir again.

Danika has excited you. The voice in her head was silky smooth again. His fingers continued to caress her. His fingertips sought out her swollen bud and the underside of his fingers pressed against her lips. The fingertips moved in a circular motion increasing their pressure and she began to rock back and forth on her knees. His thumb pressed against the tight bud of her behind. She heard a low moan that seemed to become a growl escape from her mouth as the beast inside her returned.

The fingers retreated and at last she felt the smooth hard head pushing her open. Greedily she wriggled back to swallow its whole length, then it was gone, sliding out of her. Rebecca gasped at the feeling of emptiness which was transformed into a scream of pleasure as she was impaled again. His flesh seemed to part hers completely, pushing against her inner muscles as they spasmed and gripped the shaft with an intensity she had never known before.

The sensations of his thrusts exploded through her body, her mind blackened, and she roared a deep moan as she was engulfed by a wave of pleasure. In the midst of her spasm there was another searing flash of pain as Danika’s fingernails bit deep into her already inflamed buttocks.

Every muscle in her body tensed as she held him inside her. She could feel his flesh pulsing, pumping out his seed. Then, as the tension in her muscles faded she collapsed forward onto the floor and he slid out of her leaving an empty void. Her body could take no more and, just before the blackness crept back over her she thought she saw two figures entwined in an embrace standing over her.

It was morning again, the high sun streamed through the open curtains into Rebecca’s bedroom and she was suddenly awake. So it was another dream she thought as she sat up in bed. She shook her head as if trying to reassemble her memories, but why don’t I remember coming home from the wood . . . unless that was all a dream too.
‘Well there’s one way to find out,’ she muttered to herself swinging her legs off the bed. ‘There is no way that whip marks like that are going to disappear in a few hours.’

Naked she crossed the room, noting confidently that there was no stinging pain from her behind, and stood in the sunlight that flooded through the window. Twisting around she inspected the cheeks of her bottom in the full-length mirror beside her dressing table. She smiled as she looked at the two perfect, smooth, hemispheres of her rear.
‘Not a lash mark in sight,’ she said defiantly.

Suddenly her smile faded and she tried to peer closer at her behind. Frustrated at not being able to twist around enough she grabbed a hand mirror from the dressing table so that she could inspect each cheek in more detail. Across each one she could definitely see a group of five red marks that looked just as if a woman’s fingernails had bitten deeply into her flesh. Perplexed Rebecca tried to fit her own fingers into the pattern but no matter how much she twisted and turned she just could not do it. There was no way she could have marked herself like that.

I hope you enjoyed these introductory chapters to The Iron Tongue of Midnight.

The Iron Tongue of Midnight

An Adult Erotic Fairy Tale

Rebecca Mason is queen of her empire; she uses men and then discards the husks. No one is going to turn her into a whining sub. Then she meets two men she desires; the problem is one is cool and distant, and the other is not human.

Warning: This novel features graphic sex scenes, some of which include fetishes. These scenes are all consensual and integral to the story.

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