Demon Mistress drive the demon from the man and gain his submission
The scent of sweat and the bitterness of fear loomed heavily in the room. It was just that though, a cold dark room with one light overhead and a wooden table. Chains hung from a few places in the solid stone walls that would be used shortly. There were a few whips and floggers hanging off one wall as well.
She couldn’t smell the dried blood, but it was obvious on the chains, staining the perfect silver in places.
Vixen ran a hand through her thick red hair and decided it needed to be pulled back to give her a more menacing look. Her violet eyes and blood red lips would be emphasized by the gesture and it would give Juan more reason to feel true intimidation. She only wished she had her fangs in this realm.
Looking down at the specimen on the table, she looked pleased at herself. Juan had been bound to the table, strapped down with leather restraints that dug into dark flesh. A ball gag had been shoved into his mouth to keep his incessant whining to a minimum though he still tried to mumble. Strong legs had been spread open and secured to a titanium spreader bar that Juan couldn’t break if he tried.
His head had been shaved clean, leaving it gleaming for Vixen mistress. She set one high heeled boot on his thigh and dug in with the six inch spike, making Juan grown as the point pierced the skin and blood dripped down his thigh.
His cock hardened, balls drawing up tightly. “I see you’re into this sort of thing, you sick fuck.” She spat the words out and pushed off his thigh to steady herself.
He grunted and begged for something resembling mercy with large peat colored eyes.
Running a hand up the length of her tight purple corset to a full breast, she pinched a nipple. “You’d rather have this, huh?” She patted her pussy, clad in tight leather pants.
The leather creaked with movement as she drew closer. “Too bad.” She swore she saw tears form in his eyes. “I don’t care for the expression on your face.” She raked her nails down his bleeding thigh. “You didn’t show mercy to those other submissives. You didn’t show mercy to anyone. I’m surprised the goddess hasn’t struck your worthless ass down yet. But,” she sighed as though she were bored already “I suppose that’s what you’re here for. To learn your lesson and be punished.”
Juan lifted his head up and followed her every movement.
Their eyes met for a moment, her steal gaze on his. He appeared to be pleading for compassion with that expression. Setting a hand on her very curvy hip, she threw her head back and laughed loudly. “You want that from me? You’re full of shit, you know that little man?” She walked around to the front of the wooden table where his head rested, aware of the click clack of each heel against the concrete. Setting a hand on his forehead, she forced his head upwards. “You’re not getting what you want this time. This is all about me. Understand?”
Anger washed over Juan’s face. His eyes narrowed. If it weren’t for the ball gag, he would have looked like a predator just now.
Mistress Vixen pulled a large black dildo from underneath the table and showed it to Juan.
His eyes widened in fear.
“This is going in you momentarily. It’s going to burn, too.” She snickered. “It won’t hurt me a bit.”
Juan struggled against the bonds yet he couldn’t break free.
She sneered. “Struggle and fight little bitch.”
He looked at her with disdain, attempting to curl his lip upward in a snarl despite the ball gag.
“Oh, right. In your culture it’s not nice to call men bitches. Except that’s exactly what you are, little Mexican. A bitch boy. Hey,” she chuckled to herself, “that’s a neat name. Guess we’re going to call you that from now on.” She waved the dildo in front of him, pressing it against his nose. “Smell it. It smells like shit, doesn’t it?”
He nodded, struggling harder against the bonds. Veins in his large arms bulged while the muscles in his neck swelled. His chest was huge, he was built like a brick shithouse. He could definitely harm Vixen if he ever got loose.
Except for the fact that she possessed martial arts skills, making her an even more dangerous woman to play with.
She closed her eyes and let the memory of being trained in the Philippines replay inside her head. Each day was tough, nights were tougher because she was a woman. Attempted rapes, forced fucking and ridicule were all part of her training in addition to brutal martial arts training that left her spent and tired each day.
But after six months she’d managed to make the right connections with certain people in the area.
It only took one death that could never be traced back to her to stop the attempted rapes.
She felt no shame about what she did. The country was lawless in certain parts and it was survival of the fittest. In fact, all the brutality reinforced her purpose, to teach man lessons needed to maintain balance at any cost. She didn’t believe in a rule of three –karmic law. That ideal was not what her boss had sent her out for. There were others who meted out punishment in that manner, but not in her pantheon.
Capturing Juan as a bounty made her day. She had no intentions of turning him over though. Not after what she’d read about his track record. He’d murdered adults but that wasn’t the problem. It was what he made little boys and girls do for him to get is kicks that made her stomach turn.
Still, Vixen didn’t understand why she’d been sent to earth to do this job when normally she would do it in purgatory but it didn’t matter to her. Juan was just another job to her. In fact, he had a destiny of his own.
“You’re my best at torture in most cases,” her boss told her. “But you have a lot to learn still about balance.” With that, he waved a long black finger and she disappeared, reappearing in the jungles of Asia with nothing more than the clothes on her back, some cash and water.
She’d been lucky he’d left her with that.
Once she’d conquered her training, she was given instructions. “You are a bounty hunter. Find them, reform them. Or bring them to me one way or another.”
BDSM had a lot going for it here. Mind games could be used to turn the tables on the most psycho of people, those who hadn’t committed heinous crimes but had thought that way. Or it could be used to retrain the mind to find balance and harmony in life—her ultimate goal with each mark.
But if those methods didn’t work, as she hoped in Juan’s case, then it was up to her to eliminate the problems in any method she chose. Vixen had come onto this plane with only the ability to judge right from wrong in the hearts and souls of man. She knew each person’s destiny.
Sadly, Juan’s destiny wasn’t ending with his life today.
She trailed the dildo down his large torso, enjoying the sight of him shaking beneath her. “I’m going to make you feel fear like you did to those poor little girls in that village.” She snickered.
He raised his head and glared at her.
“Oh, I’d love to knock that expression off your cocky little face but then it’d knock you out. I need you very awake for all of this.” She licked her lips at the sight of his raging hardon. He was enjoying this despite his visual protests. Odd. It didn’t make sense to her that he’d get a thrill out of his own torture, but then again some humans were just sick and demented.
Walking around to the foot of the table, she raked her nails over Juan’s muscled legs and waited for blood to start dripping down his thighs.
It glowed deep crimson in the white light against his dark thighs.
Vixen laughed again. Reaching for a tube at the foot of the table, she picked up the lubricant and coated the head of the thick dildo just enough to wet it.
Setting the tube down, she pressed the head of the phallus against Juan’s puckered asshole.
He clenched up at the slightest touch.
She snarled, her lip curling upwards in a sneer. “Too bad you’re not more into this aspect, you sick fuck. You certainly had no problems with giving. But you should be able to take, as well.”
“I could drug you and make you more receptive. Hey, that’s a good idea. Give you a taste of your own medicine.” She set the dildo down on the table and walked over to a ledge that had several syringes filled with various colored liquids. The sound of her heels against the stone floor echoed loudly with each step.
In the background, she heard Juan scream against the ball gag, choking out profanities in Spanish.
She turned murderous eyes on him, retrieving two syringes filled with drugs designed to relax his body but not numb him. Another drug if given in high doses would make him forget time and space altogether. Sweat broke out on his forehead and dripped down into his eyes.
It probably stung.
“You did this to them, didn’t you? Drugged them before you had your fill of fun?” Her voice rose in pitch, not quite a scream but something more feral.
Reaching for his head, she gripped his jaw and turned his face to one side, getting a clear shot of the swelling, pulsing artery in his neck. The needle went in despite Juan’s best efforts to protest and thrash about. Muscles in his neck tensed, showing their immense size, but the restraints were much harder to break.
Within seconds, his eyes relaxed and the angry expression wore off, replaced by something not quite calm. The liquid spilled into his veins and worked its way through his body quickly, thank goddess for that. It meant he’d be more receptive to please but would still feel every bit of torture and punishment.
Vixen liked that about her job. It was the fun part.
She smiled and pulled the empty needle out of his neck and tossed it aside. The glass shattered, splintering into pieces at contact with the stone floor.
“Now what?” She tapped a manicured nail against the wood, the sound echoing throughout the now quite room. Juan’s body looked delicious bound the way it was, legs spread, arms at his sides. She had to admit the shaved head look was growing on her, but not enough to make him attractive to her.
It would be so easy to end his pathetic life here and now with him calm. It could be a drug overdose, easily justifiable by a coke habit that the Mexican was known to have among friends.
Balance she heard the words in her head. She yelled in frustration before returning her gaze to the table to see Juan helpless, his eyes glossed over. Good, the drug had worked its way through his system very quickly.
“Right, the anal plug for my little bitch boy.” She moved swiftly to the end of the table and picked up the plug. Some of the lube had dried so she gave it another coat and plunged it deep between Juan’s thighs.
His muscles clenched involuntarily and he cried out. “A little part of you just died, didn’t it?” She nodded as the dildo slid in all the way up to the hilt.
Juan moaned, no doubt the plug was brushing over his prostrate. The male G-spot fascinated her. She licked her lips at the thought of finding someone else who would let her explore with their body. Juan’s cock swelled and stood completely upright. Precum glistened off the tip of his thick purple head.
“You like this don’t you?”
A minute nod of the head told her some part of him was enjoying this. Of course the size of his engorged cock betrayed any thoughts he was having anyway.
“It’s perfectly acceptable between two consenting grown adults.” She slapped his thigh with her bare hand.
The sting reverberated off the walls as she repeated the motion.
Juan cried again, choking on the gag.
“Stop screaming!” She strode up the length of the table and slapped him across the face hard.
His head bounced off the table and lolled to one side, the drug keeping him from retaliating or reacting.
She smirked. “This is no fun. You’re a dull puppet. What did you see in drugging your victims?” Producing a knife from a pocket in her tight leather pants, she slid the blade over the skin of his face and cut one strap of the ball gag, freeing him.
Juan coughed and sputtered, still unable to really respond to her. He tried to spit at her but missed.
She set a hand on her hips. “Looks like our little bitch boy has some fight in him. That’s fixable.” She grinned and grabbed his chin in her hand. Lifting his head upwards, she decided to use one thing guaranteed to offset his aggression.
Pressing her lips to his, she tasted the disgusting odor of the drugs in his system along with masculine Mexican aroma that harkened back to the numerous delicious spices used in their cooking. She kissed him and licked his now bleeding bottom lip.
Feeling him try to lift his head to meet her kiss encouraged her to press her mouth harder against his while a hand slid down the length of his torso towards his cock.
“You like this,” she broke from the kiss. “You like having your ass filled with fake cock. We should try the real thing.” She grinned.
His fists clenched at his sides while he shook his head defensively. “Puta,” he spat out.
She slid from his body and slapped him again. “You will never disrespect the woman who holds your life in her hands ever.”
His head lolled to the other side before he returned his glossy eyed gaze on her figure.
She saw it, the predatory gaze he used start to come out from behind the drugged up visage.
“That’s amusing. Maybe I should let you go from your restraints and see if you could actually put up a decent fight while I fuck you with a strap on. How do you like that idea?”
His eyes widened. “You’d lose, bitch.”She slapped him across the cheek again. “You think so? Nevermind that I am trained in Panatukan and Eskrima martial arts. You’d lose very quickly.”
Juan pursed his lips together tightly and remained silent.
An eye cocked upwards and Vixen chuckled. “Still thinking I can’t hold her own because I’m female?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, pursed those thin lips into a tight line and relaxed his body.
“You’re cute.” She patted him on the head.
He jerked his head away.
Gripping his skull in her hand, she squeezed, digging in razor sharp fingernails until she was sure she’d drawn blood. “You’re an asshole, Juan. Bitch boys like you don’t understand how to behave, this much I know. Bitch boys like you think this is a game. I have a game for you. We’re going to take that hardened cock of yours and play with it. Would you like that?”
His eyes widened, probably in anticipation of her sick sense of sexuality.
“I knew you would. Now,” she pulled a long thin steel rod from one of her boots and waved it back and forth in front of his eyes, watching his expression change from arousal to worry at what she’d do with the piece of metal.
“Your ass is plugged, your cock should be too. Just…” She looked at his swollen organ, aware that it had lost some of its stiffness. Gripping him in one hand, she began pumping him. “Does the violence or my hand harden you more, bitch boy?”
“You’re a dirty whore who should be begging to take my cock up that pretty little cunt of yours.” He let out a breath through gritted teeth when she gave his cock a firm squeeze.
She tapped the head of his cock with the sound.
He refused to even grunt.
“You’ll feel delicious pain. I love it.” Thinking about how deep the sound would go inside his cock made for an interesting picture. What if she sat on top of his cock and rode him while the sound was inside? Raking the piece of steel over his shaft, she drew it over his balls.
His body reacted by tightening his scrotum against his body. Still he was hot and heavy, fluids filling his balls. He’d be begging for release soon.
Well, thinking a second longer about it, she couldn’t sit on his cock without hurting him beyond use. And she did have a use for his cock, though he wasn’t going to like it. “I’ve changed my mind, bitch boy. You’re not getting the sound.” She walked in front of him where he could see her perfectly and bent down, keeping her legs straight while she slid the medical device back into a pocket on the inside of her boot, keeping her ass taut for him to stare at.
His heated gaze was easy enough to detect, hell she’d even heard him lick his lips.
But he’d not be getting any pleasure out of this.
Standing, she straightened herself, giving him an excellent view up the line of her body. From her slender thighs to the curve of her tight ass and up the line of her waist towards her feminine shoulders and the ponytail that swished over her hips, she was a knockout.
And Juan was eyeing her like candy.
“Did you look at those little girls that same way? ”She glanced over her shoulder and glared at him.
“I gave them my best friendly face.” He spoke, but his words held nothing but the weight of honesty. Round eyes were still glossed over but she could spot the lust dancing in his irises. She even noted that he’d licked his lips as his fists curled into tight balls.
“Wishing you could yank my head back and shove that pathetic excuse for a cock down my throat, huh?”
He didn’t respond so much as his body reacted against any derogatory response he’d have given.
“Your silence won’t earn you brownie points, bitch boy.” She watched his jaw clench, the muscles in his mouth work as his neck tensed. He was beginning to get thoroughly irritated.
“If you’re going to kill me already, fucking do it.” He sneered at her.
Vixen started to react, but stopped herself. She wanted to kill him. There was a dagger in the corner that she’d left there just before bringing him into this room that would end his miserable life.
She could plunge the dagger into his chest, stop the beating of his heart and rest assured that no more little boys and girls would suffer at his hands.
Yet, that wouldn’t drag on the pain.
Instead, she walked around and saw the plug slipping out of his ass. A swift kick of her boot shoved the plug back in deeper than it had been.
He groaned and arched his hips upward, making it easier to take the plug in. She gave it another swat with her hand and it went in to the hilt.
Satisfied, she decided to get the dagger. He was going to definitely suffer.
She picked it up, and toyed with the weight. It was long. The handle and blade were midnight black. Twirling the blade around, she saw how light gleamed against the edge of the knife. Juan’s eyes widened in horror at the thought of what she might actually do.
“I was just kidding,” he murmured.
“Relax, asshole. I’m not going to kill you yet.” Her voice dropped a notch with each word, emphasizing his ultimate demise. She ran her fingers up the length of the blade. “Though,” she walked over carefully, one step at a time until she’d reached him. “This is another aspect of BDSM. Blood play.” She set the cold blade against his skin and drew it down over a vein in his arm, crimson blood dripping down in the light.
Closing his eyes, Juan hissed out a breath.
She drew the blade down the length of his forearm until she’d reached the wrist joint. He didn’t scream, but his body tensed up, muscles flexed. Toes curled while he struggled against his bonds.
Thank the deities that she had access to something stronger than leather for this criminal.
Vixen walked around to the other side of his body, eyeing her work. She pressed the blade against his skin where the arm met the shoulder and dug in just enough to produce blood. Skin turned red where she dug in. Drawing the knife slowly down the length of his arm, she watched in dismay as he refused to give her the satisfaction of even one groan.
She dug the knife in deeper near the elbow.
He screamed aloud.
“That’s what I wanted. Delicious screams.” Seeing his cock out of the corner of her eye, she noted he was still rock hard. “And a hard plaything for me for later. I love it!” Creful not to stray from the straight line, she continued dragging the blade over his skin.
He shuddered beneath her dagger.
When she reached the wrist joint on his left hand, she surveyed her work, her lips curling upward in a smile at her handiwork.
“You’re an evil bitch.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she grinned wider and laughed, then dropped the dagger blade against the center of his chest. “You’re going to be marked permanently. This blade will cut into your skin a lasting scar so that future generations will know just what you are.”
She flashed a smile and felt fangs protrude from her mouth. Where those came from was beyond her, but she knew he’d be repulsed and afraid of the sight.
Smiling larger, she let a little fang show.
The smell in the room changed. Cold fear was now in the air as opposed the scent of brutal ego. The difference was in the level of bitterness that Vixen detected.
Juan’s eyes widened as the reaction hit his mind. “Puta, what are you?”
“I’m nothing compared to what you are. I’m only half the demon.”
Juan snorted. His mouth opened to scream from the contact of blade to flesh but only silence came out.
The dagger cut into the flesh of his chest, making a perfect circle that pulled another scream from him. He yelled, thrashing his head backwards against the stiff wood of the table.
“You can make it stop anytime you want, you know.” She hated to have to make it come to this, but he could beg like his victims did. He could show her earnest sincerity. He could attempt to redeem himself. Even if he failed, he could still try.
“Fuck you,” he spat the words out at her vehemently. “I am not somebody’s toy!”
Blood pooled in a circle around the indentation of his chest. The air smelled heavily of anger and death, cayenne pepper and rotting garbage. Was this the stench of a rapist?
The glossy look in his eyes was replaced by something different, something resembling pain. His lower lip trembled as tears streaked down his face. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
It appeared that realization was washing over him, making him aware of the demon in his humanity.
That was a good thing.
“We all are angel and demon.” Each human possessed within them the ability to be both good and bad, or to choose. Juan chose the latter obviously and was paying for his mistakes through forced submission.
Vixen put the blade down on the stone floor and walked to the middle of the board. Blood ran in thin trails down Juan’s arms and chest, pooling beneath him. She caught a glimpse of herself in his eyes, fangs bared. Her skin seemed translucent in the reflection in his eyes. The air filled with a new scent, one she couldn’t quite place. Vixen fixed her gaze on an object hovering above Juan’s forehead, noting the bright sparkles that surrounded it. “What is that?”
Juan lifted his head upwards, his eyes following the steady movement of the light. “You tell me. You’re the one with fangs, lady.”
“Aww,” she tilted her head to the side, “tell me you don’t want me to wrap my lips around your cock and suck you dry.” Her voice lilted at the end of her statement, making it seem as though her statement was a question.
It even sounded different to her ears.
“I’m not into having my cock bit off, bitch.” His tone had wavered, the aggressive male hormones disappearing with blood loss. He wasn’t so tough after all, it seemed.
The look in his eyes registered both fear and arousal. He thought she was truly going to kill him. She laughed.
Vixen wanted to end his pathetic life. She hated men like him who rose to power through sexist superiority. This facet of humankind annoyed her.
She felt the stain on the human race in each of them. Was drawn to the blackness just so she could cleanse it with punishment a proper Mistress could dole out.
Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy.
She snorted. Her powers on this plane were limited only to what she could see in the person’s heart at the time and a few other niceties that she’d been granted. She’d touched him in the bar, kissing him with just enough force in her lips that she could set a hand over his heart and feel the beat and detect the stain of blackness on his soul.
It was thick like oil and molasses she remembered.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she noticed that his cock remained hard still, despite the blood loss. It seemed he liked playing this way.
Reaching for him, she set her hand in the pool of blood that covered his chest.
He flinched. “What the fuck, lady?”
His heart thudded loudly against her hand while the liquid swirled around and collected at her fingertips.
By now Juan had started to panic. His chest rose and fell sharply, breathing shallow breaths. His lips appeared to be trembling.
“You’re afraid and aroused at the same time,” Vixen noted. “This is interesting. So far all I’ve done is torture you and watch your cock grow harder.”
Juan started to speak but his body shook against his bonds.
Vixen scratched her head. “What’s wrong, bitch boy?”
Juan couldn’t speak. His mouth moved but no words came out. The sparkles above his head appeared to be pulling energy from him, turning the ball floating overhead into a black pool of filth that stunk like the bowels of the sewers.
Vixen resisted the urge to hold her nose. Instead, she blocked out the pungent odor with thoughts of what she would do next.
Free him and whip him into submission. By now he’d be so weak from blood loss that any attempt to strike out against her would be futile.
“You will kneel before me.” She cleared her throat. Walking towards the wall with various knives and other instruments, she listened to the sound of each heel clicking against the stone floor. Pulling a whip off the rack, she twirled it around so that the cracker cut through the air, making a whoosh sound.
“What are you talking about?” Juan’s voice was filled with what amounted to nothing. It seemed he was trying to fight the demon inside for control. The demon appeared to be losing.
“Just a little more blood loss will serve my needs with you for now. And so will your complete and utter submission.” Her tone changed to a serious note. She coughed, keeping an eye on the now black orb above his head. It needed to go.
“What for? You like to drink the blood, puta?” His derogatory tone was irritating her.
Quickly, she walked over to him and slapped him. His head rotated against the wooden board before he looked back up at her with wicked intent in his eyes. His nostrils flared, the blood on his chest began bubble and ooze, a sign to her that something inside wanted out and was trying to get out through his chest.
Stepping back, Vixen put her hands together while still holding the whip. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of a white ball that was larger than the black sphere hovering over Juan’s head.
In her mind she saw the white sphere, large and luminous. She saw it grow, energy coming from an unknown source outside the walls through the tiny window in the cell. It grew and grew still while being fed from the tiny stream of sparkles coming in from the window.
All the while, she imagined it growing, she imagined it encompassing the tiny black sphere above Juan’s head. In her mind, she could see the white light filled with compassion and understanding; things she didn’t possess. She saw the dark ball above his head filled with all the lessons he’d been taught growing up, how to treat women. How to keep people in line using fear, how to destroy someone, those lessons took up the space that was designed for the good in humankind.
She then sent the white light forward, pushing it with her hands. Opening her eyes, she pulled her hands apart and cracked the whip just over his head.
Juan flinched but the ball dispersed. It reformed but was smaller, brighter. It glowed powerfully but crackled with energy as though it couldn’t hold itself together without something of his.
Juan jumped again at the sound of another crack though he couldn’t see the whip, the sound of a shotgun blast echoing loudly in the chamber frightened him. “Don’t hit my head with that thing, please!” The tone of his voice held that soft lilt that signaled a break in his posturing.
It was time to make him kneel while she had him here in the grips of fear. No doubt the amount of blood he’d lost by now was affecting him. The wounds in his chest weren’t grave but they were deep.
She waited patiently, watching the black ball of poison above his head slowly become encompassed by the white light she’d created. Heat poured from her hands into the bright white ball. Keeping an eye on Juan, she flipped the whip in his general direction, lightly cracking the tip. Next, she lifted the table upright, putting Juan in a standing position. The leather continued to dig into his flesh, pulling a hiss from his mouth. By now the dildo has slid out of his ass and fallen onto the floor. She hated that, loved seeing him plugged up. Oh well.
His head drooped forward. Gone was the sneer on his lips or the hint of darkness in his eyes. The black ball above his head had been dissipating over the last few minutes.
Turning her attention to Juan, she stepped forward, eyeing him up and down. His body was drenched in sweat. Blood from his wounds now ran down his forearms and chest, dripping over his still erect cock. “You’re a sick one.” She gave his dick a tug, enjoying the groan he emitted.
“But,” she sighed, “we need to get this over with. So, she stepped back towards the wall and flipped a switch. In a second, the leather restraints unclasped.
Juan fell forward onto his hands and knees, head bowed.
Vixen stepped back and swung the whip behind her. She flicked her wrist forward slightly, the whip popping ever so lightly. “You’re ready to submit to me?”
Juan lifted his face, the single light in the room glaring off the roundness of his bald head. The pathetic look in his eyes made him seem like less of a man. And right now, he was.
Impatiently, she cracked the whip loud, the sound echoing like a shotgun blast in the tiny room. She nailed a spot in the air just above Juan’s head.
He flinched, falling over to his side.
“Get up on your hands and knees or I’ll kill you.” She growled.
Juan staggered to do as he was told. Making himself get back into the position he was in, he managed despite the fact that his limbs were trembling.
Vixen watched blood pour from the wounds in his body onto the floor. His upper body was a mess, would need a bath. He’d have to bath in the special salt solution she had prepared for this, in the event that she couldn’t pull the demon from him.
Damn shame that he gave in, but human nature was bound to either lead or follow the strongest leader in the pack. And the demon that had been eviscerated by the healing white light had been stronger than the average baby but not enough to take out an accomplished Demon Mistress.
“Submit?” She cocked her brow, readying the whip behind her again. This next strike would hit him.
He looked up, mouth hung open. “Yes Mistress. I submit.”
#Demon #Mistress #drive #demon #man #gain #submission