Page 18 of Obsession

Ren drew in deep breaths, gasping like a fish out of water around the excess drool that remained from having the gag on.

“Such a pretty pet when you have so much fear in your eyes.” Bastian caressed her cheek with one finger, tracing her tear’s path.

He returned to his place between her legs and fastened the gag around her other thigh. At that point he had both of her thighs spread wider than they had been, baring her to him in a way that made her even more vulnerable.

“I should have known that you were sadistic, evil even.” Ren spit with vitriol and determination to show her strength was still within her.

“You did know. You just didn’t know how much you would like it.” He said with a knowing smirk.

Bastian carved a small symbol inside the skin of her left inner thigh. The pain of the knife slicing through her skin made her squirm, wince, and grit her teeth—but it also had her pussy weeping.

“I can see that you have reached your limit, my pet. We will save the rest for another session. You are mine.”

He tucked himself back into his slacks and zipped up, still engorged and clearly needing a release.

Bastian leaned over and with a wide flat tongue licked from her ass to her little tuft of hair. He hummed appreciatively, and repeated his action, stopping for a second longer on her clit.

“You taste better than the blood of a virgin after I had been starved for a decade.”

Bastian bit her on the center of the mark he just created, and drank from her deeply.

Slipping two fingers easily into her glistening pussy. He hooked them upwards, and squeezed with his thumb on her throbbing clit. The motion he created with his inhuman speed was more intense than anything she had ever experienced. The orgasm was short lived, as she felt the world close around her and everything fading.

Bastian had taken so much blood from her that she passed out. Satiated with his session he started to untie and unbuckle her from the apparatus that held her in place for his torturous play.

“Grayson.” Bastian called to the man he knew entered the room when Ren screamed from having her throat cut.

He stepped forward from the shadows near the doorway. With a nod of his head, he addressed Bastian.

“Go ahead and take her back to her cage.”

Eighteen

While enticed by and drawn to the brothers, Ren had forgotten that she was their captive. She felt comfortable in their presence. She walked amongst them every day without fear, without chains to bind her—without a want to escape.

Their world was one of blood and darkness, a stark contrast to her past life. They needed to hunt, to take life in order to keep their own existence. She knew that now, and it didn’t frighten her, or deter her from wanting to be there. To be with them.

When she cracked her eyes open from her slumber, Ren felt a sense of confusion fall over her. She closed her eyes again and attempted to shake off the feeling.

When she opened them, she was in another place entirely. Standing not lying in a bed.

Though she had instances of forgetfulness and feelings of being in one room but finding herself in another, she had somehow grown accustomed to these things in the short time she had been in the mansion.

When she opened her eyes she almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She had never seen this room before. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands to try and scrub the insane image from them.

Yet it still remained when she opened them again.

Bastian sat on a throne with a framework of bones and skulls with red leather cushions, but she missed what was in the shadows as she dropped her robe. She hadn’t even wanted to, it was like her body was moving without her own permission.

Despite the allure of Bastian’s touch and the intoxicating scent of his presence, a sense of dread always lingered at the back of Ren’s mind.

The reality of her situation was lost on Ren, until the moment when Bastian clapped his powerful hands together. A hot gust of wind blasted Ren backwards as candles lit up the shadows in the room. She found herself crouched on the floor with the light fabric of her robe gripped in her hands covering her mouth and nose from the dust that still floated in the stagnant room.

In a previously darkened corner of the room, a leathery cloak of wings unfolded revealing Grayson hanging upside down from the ceiling. He hissed loudly then finished with a sound that was barely audible to her ears. With the ease of an acrobat, flipped down from the ceiling landing deftly on light feet. Standing to his full height in this gargoyle-esque shape he was actually taller than she remembered.

Grayson had transformed into a monstrous bat-like creature. His wings spread and stretched. The membrane between his long finger-like appendages was thin enough to see the candlelight between them. The veins of blood were woven through like spider webs feeding all the way to the tips.

The brothers, in their turn, continued to watch her with a predatory interest, their centuries of existence clearlydesensitizing them to her fear. She stood before them, and watched them watching her.

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