• [#dominationplay #giantess #greenwoman]
TEN HOURS LATER, Rafel stood in the long cavernous space of his underground dungeon at the Manor. The basement cubicles were once diligent mining pits for Tiffany glass and shards of the damask gems still glinted from various places in the stone walls. Several holding cells lined this particular floor, extensive chain manacles protruding from the high domed ceiling and below from the cave rocks.
The dungeon was built to hold any type of magical creature. Be it a flaming charcoal fiend. Or a roaring furry wendigo.
Torches flickered on strategic points all over the walls. It casted dewy orange light in relief, making the shadows loom and dance.
"She's calmer now, My Lord," came a tiny voice left of Rafel.
It was the little male pixie he had put in charge of the affairs of his dungeon. A demon had to have a state-of-the-art holding facility for some good torture. After all, he was hellborn. There was no forgetting his infernal birth or bloodline. Nor did Rafel want to.
The pixie spoke about Annabelle, the Bone Huntress, who was now resting soundlessly in her own stone prison. Her long blonde hair was a waterfall that streamed out all around her. Rafel wasn't sure the girl had put a razor or comb to it in all her decades lived as an Immortal.
He stared quietly through the metal bars to her.
The poor woman had screamed herself to sleep. At the end, Rafel didn't even need the Milk of the Poppy Cora had suggested to dull her ramblings. It was clear his golden-haired slave hated chains. To have another Immortal bound under his home must be something, Rafel mused.
He kept watching the heaving of her small chest in sleep.
Annabelle was straight as a pitchfork. No meat on the girl.
Now Rafel liked his women with some flesh. But what the Bone Huntress lacked in figure she made up for in face. The girl had a face sculpted in the magic of the divine. She was pretty like a demigod. Offspring of god and man.
Rafel turned his thoughts after a while to the Eldorian Queen who had left his dungeons for the surface not too long ago. Giselle had ridden out on her Griffins with Cordelia in tow. Accounting for the bird's flight speed, she'd probably be at her Castle now. Rafel got the brief vision of the Queen in her luxury showers, sponging out the dirt of adventure with her gilden loofah.
Suds slippery down her golden flesh. Perhaps, the Countess under the streaming rain with her. Their hands roaming, searching, pleasing—
"She will be fine, My Lord," came the pixie's tiny voice again.
Apparently, the little fairy male had mistaken Rafel's interest in his acquired slave.
Rafel quickly explained the situation of things to the tiny man who flapped his glowing butterfly wings arcoss Rafel's wide shoulders.
"I do not care for the Blond other than for life to remain within her until as such time as she would come in my presence to explain herself and answer my questions. If she tries to escape, you are free to use whatever methods you consider humane to keep her shackled."
Rafel used the word, humane, loosely.
". . .and also pay attention to her sleep. See if she mutters anything about how she and those forest girls came to possess the strange pale eyes."
"Yes, My Lord. As always, your wish is my command." The pixie bowed heartily.
The thirty girl children who had ridden out from the northern woods with Rafel and his hunting caravan were currently being housed in one of the dormant summer houses owned by the Countess. Cordelia had been more than happy to offer her services when Rafel asked, seeing as her own daughter, Brunhilda was off schooling on a wispy island.
That fat ass everywhere. Goddamn!
She even had a lick of coal eyeliner framing her slitted reptilian eyes. As she sat, she sat warmly and quietly. Like a Sub. A secret submissive. Rafel knew the pose all too well. A woman like her, all seven feet and with curves for ten hands would be delightful to dominate.
Mary Atwell was Gypsy blood.
Rafel smelled it in the air.
"You still haven't answered my question, Mary. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, settling into his boss seat opposite her.
"I b–brought a peace offering, Your Grace," she stuttered, handing Rafel a vermillion conch.
He turned it over.
"A rare sleep-inducing weapon? Thank you."
His show of gratitude surprised Mary. But her calmness surprised him just as much. She was part ferocious crocodile for shit's sake!
When the silence began to stretch, Rafel let the conch drop into his pocket dimension. If Mary was shocked at the disappearing of her gift, she didn't show it.
"Your jaw, it's a fine heal. Regeneration, no?" Rafel asked.
Mary nodded. "Yes sir. I found a Rank B Druid in the city."
"Must have cost a lot?"
"It did actually, yeah. Five purses of my fine Eldorian gold. The idiot sorcerer even requested a blowjob too."
"I'm guessing you flashed teeth?" Rafel joked.
Mary and he ended up laughing and she smiled.
"Yeah, I did. I ain't gonna suck off no sixty-year old dick and still pay the due. Druids suck ass!"
Rafel smiled with her. Before his expression turned serious.
"Does it still hurt? Your mouth?"
"No, sir." Mary shook her head. "Why?"
Rafel smiled again. But this time, it was touched by cold lust. Since he and Aya Naamah, who had been standing behind Mary all this while were bonded as Master and Slave, Rafel spoke through their telepathic connection.
"Aya, fetch me the ropes, will you? The red ones."
[DO NOT FLIP TO THE NEXT CHAPTER—SKIP IT IF YOU'VE GOT A WEAK STOMACH!]