Page 28 of Her Tortured Beasts

I blink hard to maintain focus, gritting my teeth and sweeping the cream across the cut.

“You’re no good at this, Uncle Xander,” Delilah says, shaking her head in dismay. “You’re not a good pet owner.”

Jerked back to reality, I shake myself out of whatever haze I was in.

“I suppose not,” I say too loudly.

Spawn flinches and I take out my pocket square and wipe the residual cream off my finger. Delilah pats Spawn on the shoulder. “Very good girl,” she coos.

I drag the cushion next to me onto my lap. “Let’s keep playing.”

That night, after I put Spawn away in its crate, I take extra long in the shower.

My balls are heavy and I haven’t had a release in ages. That’s likely why I’m reacting like this. Spawn doesn’t have the samedemanding draw, and my dragon isn’t even conscious to thirst after it.

I stroke my thickening length in one hand, squeezing the tip hard until a bead of pre-cum emerges.

Blue eyes flash before my mind’s eye, at cock level, looking up at me, pink mouth open. Muttering a curse as I slide my hand down the base, I thud my back against the shower tiles, I instead imagine Nadine Chen on her knees before me, her mouth ready and waiting?—

But Nadine’s face morphs into an olive skinned, blue-eyed one. Eyes like gems that glint mischievously in the dark. Eyes that sparkle with cunning. Gritting my teeth, I pump my cock, faster and faster, imagining Spawn on her knees, taking my cock like she needs it, hungers for it. Thirstily taking me to my base, moaning and groaning?—

I come, shuddering against the wall, a strangled sound tearing from my throat. Sighing as I glare at the door behind which Spawn lies, I wash my body and dry off.

It’s just frustration. Just weeks of pent-up desire I needed to release. She carries no hold over me. Absolutely none.

The best thing for me to do is focus on my current matches. Matches of my choice and my choosing.

That night, I sleep perfectly well.

The next week passes quickly, with each day much the same as the last. Each night, Snake Spawn goes quietly to bed in its cage. Each morning, I flip the cover off to find it waiting, angry eyes staring me down.

I wonder how long that will last.

When Sunday comes around, I find Solomon and Ghoul arguing inside the testing room. By ‘arguing’, I mean to say that Solomon is trying to protest something mad Ghoul has put forward.

“We’re not ready, Lord Basilisk,” Solomon says before I make myself known.

“Well, I am, and that’s what’s relevant here. Ah!” Ghoul senses me and Spawn, turning around and clapping his hands. “We’ve reached the second phase of our testing,” Ghoul announces. “We’re all quite excited about it.”

The team of scientists shifts uncomfortably. I frown at Ghoul. “Can’t be anything good, then.”

The hint of a fanged smile appears beneath his mask. “Follow me.”

We leave the bright lights of the testing room to head back into the dark, further down the corridor. I’m not familiar with this part of the mansion. It’s not an area with the books where I used to play as a child or wander as a teenager. The cobwebs have been swept away, and it still smells faintly of antiseptic wash and bleach.

Ghoul abruptly turns into a darkened room, the gleam of steel bars on the opposing wall. He takes out a ring of black keys.

The fact that he would have keys to something in my mansion could send me into a rage. I’d have to have a word with my father about this. It’s completely unacceptable. Does he think he’s a dragon by association?

Useless, arrogant prick.

“Hand her over,dragon.”

“I’m not going in there,” Spawn scoffs.

“We’re just testing your eyesight,” Ghoul shrugs. “Don’t be afraid.”

I release its golden collar with a sharp snap, making her stumble back a step. “Go.”

---