The Twilight Hunt – Chapter 2 – Mistletoe

Max let himself drop into his chair, more than a little exhausted as beads of sweat dripped down the man’s brow. The droplets of hard-earned water, the salt of his labor, glided down his forehead and dripped over his cheek before falling to the ground like tears. The large man lifted the bottle of water in his hand to his lips, taking a long drink from it. He had been up for… what? Fifty hours now or so by now? Something like that. He blinked the tiredness from his eyes, letting them fixate on the messed up mattress where his latest victim was lying motionless, a soft whimper coming from the unconscious woman with each breath.

He wiped his brow. It had been nearly ten hours that had gone by like minutes since he had started working on her… he didn’t have time to spare with such a short time limit. Mike actually felt sorry for the poor young woman. Margret was a lovely thing, a beautiful woman, and a prize worth having. She deserved someone who would take his time with her, using her sensitive young body like a precious instrument. That was how Max preferred to work – to take his time and do it right, to break her down and build her back up into a perfect slave. Unfortunately, that took time… and time was precisely what Astrid had decided he did not have. Instead of working like a surgeon, he needed to be a butcher. Instead of an artist making a sculpture, delicately chiseling away bit by bit from a marble black, he had just needed to smash her.

So he had.

It wasn’t fair, to her or to him… but he’d agreed to take Mr. Roots gold, and his commission with it. That meant he needed Astrid. That meant he needed to complete this challenge. A deal was a deal.

He looked down at the pale little Icelandic redhead tied up on his bed. He hadn’t touched her for a few minutes now while he recovered and he was fairly sure she hadn’t moved at all, only the shallow rise and fall of her chest showing she was alive… the only sign of life in the broken girl at all. It was like her whole body worked not to agitate the welts on her skin, the bruises that were lurking below the surface… even unconscious she was trying to protect herself. Her head hung over one side of the bed. It was bruised, unfortunately… he tried not to bruise the faces of his prey too badly usually. It was bad for merchandise. Then again, she wasn’t going to be sold, so it probably didn’t matter that she had a black eye and dark bruising on both cheeks, or that her face was slick with a sticky mix of spit, piss, and cum that streaked her face and her hair. The makeup she had had on when he grabbed her was long ruined, the lipstick smeared off of bruised lips, and her breathing had a raspy sound to it… Her throat was doubtless just as bruised and sore as the rest of her face was.

Her tits weren’t much better. She had lovely tits, large for her frame and, he was delighted to see, very sensitive as well. During the night, Max had taken full advantage. Bruises, bite marks, and cigarette burns covered them now, along with plenty of welts… he didn’t have any of his tools with him so he’d needed to use his belt. Less than ideal, but if he hit hard enough it still made lovely marks. Her sweat and some of his seed rested on those swollen orbs, both deposited and dripped on from elsewhere, and her nipples looked like cherries from how raw and swollen they were.

Perhaps inevitably, her pussy had suffered the worst. It had been hours, now… the most spectacular of the bruises were just starting to show, and her main hole showed all of them. Her thighs were more black and blue than they were flesh-toned now, and both those thighs and the mound above her wrecked cunt had more puffy red burn marks from the cigarettes. Welts and bruises covered her ass as well, along with several more burns. He hadn’t had time tonight to play around… he had gone right for there with the belt to start before he had even fucked her. Cum leaked from the bruised slit, but the hole still looked tight… not gaping, but rather all but swollen shut. He knew that if he put his fingers in her right this second she would feel tighter than she had been when he’d started… as swollen up on the inside as she was on the outside. To the bound woman, her hole would feel more like a raw wound in her body than a part of her after what he had done to it… a feeling that she would probably keep forever if Astrid’s intentions for her went the way she expected.

Max sighed. He’d done it. It had been an exhausting night, and he had needed to largely brute force the problem, but Max had little doubt that he’d tamed the abducted bartender to the point she would absolutely be willing to do anything at all he asked of her. It really was amazing what a woman would agree to when was certain she was moments away from death, after all. He had needed to get creative with this one since he hadn’t had any of his tools with him and on such short notice. A bit more violent than normal, more brutal than he preferred, and not as refined, but in the end she was broken enough to fit what Astrid had required from him.

With an exhausted sigh, Max sat down in a recliner in the borrowed room in Astrid’s basement apartment and drank as he recalled the events of his evening. After he had stunned the pretty redhead, he had cuffed her, gagged her, and stuffed her in his car. He had been worried that he was going to need to find an abandoned lot or a motel where some strangeness would be overlooked, but thankfully Astrid offered him a room. No one asked any odd questions as they brought the blanket-wrapped woman inside…as far as he could tell he hadn’t seen a single other person, which was lucky. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the svartalf woman – god, thinking about that was not getting any less strange – didn’t consider it part of the test for him to find a safe place in a strange city to work, or to dodge people knocking on his motel doors asking for an explanation on the muffled screaming. A large tip to the front desk clerk could only have gone so far.

After arriving here, he hadn’t delayed… the clock was ticking. Being experienced with his craft, he knew fairly well how far he could safely take her body and still keep her intact enough to heal eventually, and he took full advantage to of everything he knew to chart the quickest possible way of bringing her there. To start, after he had taken stock of what he had available, and what was in the room, Max had begun by taking the bedsheets right off the bed and used them to fashion a long makeshift rope. Then, as she started to wake up, he had tied one end of it around her neck and looped the other through the mounting bar on the ceiling that was handy… He didn’t question why Astrid had had such a thing, but it made his job easier. She was still a little dazed, only slowly coming too, so he’d slapped her face a few times to get her to wake up, hitting her until her eyes focused on him. Margret looked absolutely terrified when she woke up and saw him smiling at her, but he had given her only a moment or two to appreciate that sight before he had tugged on the bed sheet to lift her up and started choking her, silencing the scream she had been preparing. “I really don’t want to kill you,” he told her as her legs scrambled on the bed, the bound girl trying to find a way to get some support under her and take her weight off her neck. “So before you run out of air, I’ll make the rules simple for you. Good girls to get to breathe. Bad girls leave in multiple trash bags.”

He secured the other end of the sheet rope by tying it to the foot of the bed, a massive wooden four-posted thing that was probably the only thing in the room heavy enough to support her. He gave her just barely enough room to let her feet touch the mattress… enough that she wouldn’t choke to death but that she was going to have to constantly work to keep her feet under her, and that speaking and screaming was going to stay beyond her… breathing being her first and only concern. Once she was secured enough to him Max ripped her shirt open, watching her breasts spill forth from her top… he could have stripped her more easily while she was unconscious, but the psychological effect of taking it off her now was all the better. She swayed as his right hand smacked one of those breasts hard, watching it bounce all around as his handprint slowly grew red on her pale skin.

Margret had been a beautiful woman in the flower of her life… A prize to be sure. She was shapely and lovely with a winning smile, and in the bar, she had had an easy, musical laugh. Her breasts gave him plenty to play with, bright pink areola and nipples contrasted with her pale and freckled skin. She would have made some man – or woman, he supposed – a lovely wife someday. Unfortunately for her, that future had ended the moment Astrid had named her. Instead, once he was done with her, Margret would make a perfect willing servant for an ancient, immortal creature she almost certainly didn’t have the first inkling even existed yet, just like he hadn’t a few hours ago.

His fingers grabbed onto her nipples, giving them a tight twist. She let out a tiny, breathless cry that couldn’t properly be called a scream but was probably what little she could manage of one on so little air. The cold, the fear, and his brief touches all conspired to begin making them grow hard, but he suspected it had nothing to do with desire… while it was too soon to be sure, he didn’t see any signs that she was a masochist, and he doubted she liked being treated so roughly. That didn’t matter anymore, though. Instead, he drew his hands down her body, put them down on her hips, and moved toward the tight jeans that she wore… He had been eager to see what she had on underneath. Challenge or not, time limit or not, she was a beautiful woman – every woman he had ever taken was lovely in their own different, unique ways, and he was excited to see what this one offered him. The button holding her jeans shut ripped off in the struggle and then Max was tugging her jeans down her long, luscious legs. Her panties got pulled down with the jeans, revealing her to his eyes, and Max had to smile. She had a smooth labia, freshly shaved… her legs were as well, he noted. Perhaps she was meeting up for a date that night. Maybe he’d ask later.

It didn’t really matter, though. She wouldn’t be making it.

The woman tried to resist his molestation. Her legs kicked at him and attempted to shove him away, but hanging from her neck her attempts were pathetically ineffective. Still, the attempt was important to him because it was valuable – It gave him an excuse to punish her. Time was short, and he needed to teach her as quickly as possible that she had no autonomy anymore, no freedom… that the lack of suffering was the best she could hope for, and whether or not she got it was entirely up to him. Max made a tsking sound as he shook his head, and then his hand merely had to grab onto the blanket rope and tug on it. The gurgled gasps for air that came from inside her neck were more than enough to demonstrate his point in the first second, but he held it for thirty, meeting her eyes before he even started speaking. “Listen here, bitch. I’m not here to play games with you. I’m here to teach you how to survive. There are two paths before you. By the time the sun comes up, you’ll either be a good little whore eager to please me, or you’ll be in a shallow grave where no one will ever find you.” He continued holding the sheet. “Understand me?”

She nodded frantically. Young, scared, and eager to please… for the moment. She didn’t mean it yet, of course. Maybe she actually thought she did, but Max knew better… she was merely desperate enough to breathe to agree to anything for the second. She would still fight, still try to escape, pretty much every chance she got. That was fine. He would have plenty of time to reinforce that agreement. By the time he was finished, she would mean it. “Good,” he said. Only then did his hand release the grip on the rope, letting her toes touch the bed mattress again.

As she stood there, gasping, Max stepped in front of her and he let his pants drop to the floor… allowing his rigid member to be visible to the woman. He watched as she slowly focused on what was going on again, her breath catching up. He saw the exact moment she realized what he was showing her when she understood what was coming… the moment her eyes widened and filled with primal terror. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting away from him, but she did try to resist again regardless. It made Max smile, despite himself… Her lack of resistance had only lasted a few seconds. Even if it would benefit him if this one was spiritless he was still far happier that she was a worthy challenge. Even if he needed to be crude in his methods, at least she was worthy of his time. It was just a shame what he would need to do to her.

It was time to reinforce the lesson.

The slave trainer simply balled his hand up into a fist this time and drove it hard into her stomach as she hung, punching her hard enough to drive what little breath she had recovered right back out of her. Margret coughed several times as her body went rigid for a moment and then completely limp, and she would have bent at the waist were it not for the fact that she needed to keep her toes on the mattress to keep from choking to death.

“Going to fight me all night or accept your fate as a fuck doll?” Max asked, looking directly into her eyes. He had to make her see that he had all the power here… that he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or kill her. He hid any happiness, pleasure, or regret from his face as he stared into the woman’s gaze… he didn’t want her to see any of it. She had to believe the absolute worst about him, and how little her life was worth to him if he was going to make this work. Thankfully, from the terror in her eyes, it seemed to Max that she was starting to get the idea. His hands grabbed onto her waist to lift her legs up, taking her weight off of them, but it was little relief as a moment later she felt his dick rubbing against her exposed cunt. She barely had time to process that and jerk her legs – which really just wrapped them pleasantly around his hips – before he thrust his cock upwards into her snug pussy.

Her hole resisted, but not enough… he had gravity on his side, and she couldn’t clench her legs to try to push him away or out like this. He let her inexorably sink onto him, his thick rod penetrating her and driving into her deeply… and as he let her sag down the sheet rope tightened around her neck again. He let her jerk like that for several seconds, staring into the panic in her eyes, before he slammed his hips forward and up. That slackened the noose for just an instant and her desperate heaving attempts at breath let her gasp in before gravity had its say and pulled her back down again, impaling him further inside her resisting body. She stared at him in mute desperation, begging for mercy. Instead, he smiled at her and thrust again.

His cock sawed back and forth into her mound, bringing him pleasure while letting her rest on the precipice of death… but as good as he felt his focus was entirely on her, judging what was happening to her, changing his pace to keep her on the verge on blacking out without letting her ever escape into that darkness and peace. Like this – half senseless, balanced between life and oblivion – the pain and the stimulation were doing interesting things to his plaything’s mind: Max felt as her pussy started growing wetter, letting him fuck her easier and more pleasantly as her body grew confused as to what was pleasure and what was pain. Her mind mixing and mingling the emotions and feelings of being choked and beaten and raped with the intense heat building between her legs, her body’s self-defense intertwining with her mind’s growing madness.

Max didn’t have time for games… but he still had to do this right. He might be on a time table and he needed to have this piece of meat eating out Astrid by morning, but that meant he couldn’t make her catatonic or non-responsive either… fear and pain would be the key elements to break her will that quickly, but shame would be an especially potent accompaniment. He couldn’t afford for her to balk when she got her orders in the morning, so Max did what would help the most – he fucked the hanging bartender closer and closer a shuddering orgasm on his cock. “Aww, would the pretty little whore like to cum?” he said with a smile, staring into her eyes as they fought not to roll back into her head. “If you had to pick, would you like to breathe… or to cum, bitch? Would you like a little death to go with your big one?” The wench that hung from the blanket rope gurgled as she tried to nod her head to him, probably not even sure what she was agreeing to, but that was fine with him… she would remember later.

The sensation of her orgasm building while she was oxygen-deprived was a thrill for Max. Her pussy was tightening even more around his cock and squeezing down on it… and he liked it. His hands gripped onto her hips and he thrust up into her soaking wet quim repeatedly, fucking her hard with his dick. The cock throbbed inside of her pussy, ready to spill out his pleasure… but he wouldn’t do that, not before he brought her to the brink and then over it. He wanted her to cum before him. Makes her know she wanted this more than he did.

Max knew how to make her do it, too. His hand moved up to grip onto the rope blanket, giving it a slight tug. At the same time, his other hand moved between her legs and found her clitoris. His fingers rolled her swollen, moist nub around, stimulating it to bring her even closer to the edge. Max laughed as he jerked his hips up, pressing his large member against her cervix deep inside her, making the strangled redhead squirm… that had hurt, but in her current, lightheaded state the gap between pain and pleasure was awfully small and easy to confuse. The tighter grip of the blanket rope around her throat had her gurgling and gasping for air. Max knew how far he could push it before she would either pass out or die from strangulation, and he pushed as hard as he dared… His cock pressed into her deeper, thrusting even harder, emerging almost all the way from her clenching hole on each stroke before he slid it all the way back into the back of the pussy. She was writhing in confused pleasure now, so close to the precipice of her orgasm that just the right twitch would bring her off like a bomb, so Max kept up with his assault… building her up even further, making sure that when he let off get off it would be explosive. He lifted her hips around his cock, pounding his shaft into her pussy. At the same time, the lifts weren’t giving her any real amount of air anymore… with his other hand maintaining tension, he only allowed air to flow into her lungs when he consciously allowed it.

Max kept on fucking her with long, deep strokes that would draw out her pleasure, whether she wanted it or not. Margret was right there and Max knew she was about to go off at any second… so as she squirmed and gave silent moans, he drove his fist into her stomach. She squeezed on him, her body rebelling against the painful treatment as she was brutalized by the sensations of pain and pleasure simultaneously. It took the edge off… but it wasn’t enough to stop him from building her right back up to the edge of orgasm again. He punched her again. The time after that, he slapped her across the face three times until she was far enough from the edge. Then another punch. She seemed half insane already after just one long fuck… the abducted waitress was squirming on him and her mouth worked like she was chewing on the air, opening and closing in rapid succession. The constant choking also was having a self-reinforcing effect on her too… Every time she was choked, it made her pussy tighter and all of the sensations far stronger.

Her mind might have been enough to hold out against only pleasure or only pain, but the two assaulting her senses at the same time were enough to break her will. Only temporarily, he knew… within a few minutes she’d be back to herself, but for just this moment she was clay in his hands to shape however he wished… and that was when he let her finally cum. She screamed silently, breathlessly, as he finally pushed her over the edge, making her body tremble and shake and clench as her legs squeezed his hips and ass. She wasn’t even trying to push her upwards anymore – the only coordinated part of the senseless thrashing was just an attempt to hold onto him in general.

It was too much for Max to hold out against even if he wanted to and he let her orgasm drag him into his. He released his first load of the night into her… pumping his cum into the trembling, hanging girl as she jerked back and forth like a woman possessed, letting her squeezing body milk him deep inside of her cunt until she had wrung every last drop of semen out of him. It felt amazing, and it was just as tiring… he felt like he was pumping energy to keep living into her with each spurt of semen, and by the time he was finished with his orgasm and she was done with her he was breathing hard. Max was done for the moment, he definitely wasn’t ready to fuck her again… but that didn’t mean he was done with her. After all, if he dropped her at the moment there was no way she would be strong enough to stand. Instead, as one hand held her on him, the other played idly with her tits – squeezing them, pinching them, twisting them until he judged there was enough awareness back in those eyes for her to manage something as simple as standing up straight again and keeping herself from strangling. Only then did give her sweat-streaked face a short caress, put both hands on her ass, and lifted her off of him to set her at that same near-choking precipice on the bed she had been at before they had started.

She was utterly exhausted already, he noticed… as tired as he was she was far more so, already having to shift her weight from foot to foot within seconds of him letting her down. That worked for him as he stepped back, letting her struggle with it for a moment while he searched the drawers of the room, looking for usable tools. He didn’t have access to any of his toys or tools, so he needed to make do with what he had… whatever junk Astrid kept around. When at last he had found enough to make a plan he returned to in front of the sweating, agonized serving girl who was looking at him with wild, almost feral eyes, wide as a full moon in their sockets. “Do you know,” he asked softly, a casual smile on his face, “what makes you any different from a blow-up doll?”

Two of his fingers traced the way over her trembling thighs, and he could tell she longed to start kicking again… but she couldn’t get enough balance on a single foot to manage it. Even if she could do it there wouldn’t be any strength behind it. “You might think it’s your mind. Your personality, your intelligence. Your life experience and desires. The idea that you are a person and not an object.” Max shook his head. “And you’d be wrong. None of those things matter… they never did. If they were important, your life as you knew it wouldn’t have ended in a few seconds because someone in your bar thought you looked fun to play with.” He stepped away to the table where he had placed what he found in the drawers, a small sewing kit, and a book of matches. He pulled out one of the needles, lit a match, and began to run the needle through the flame while her eyes tried to follow him.

“In a few hours, I’ll have disabused you of that idea,” Max told her without looking. “You won’t believe it anymore. Instead, you will begin to cling to the idea that it’s your skills that make you better. The way you can learn to ride me, or suck on my cock, or squirm for me in a way no lifeless sex toy could is what differentiates you from a fifty-dollar fuckable balloon.” He looked up at her and walked over with the needle. “And once you manage to convince yourself of that… you’ll be wrong about that, too.” The hot needle rested against one of her nipples. She flinched away… even without stabbing it into her it was burning hot already, and singed her instantly. Max chased her with it, tiny burns following her as he went. “Those don’t matter either. Sure, you’ll do them to earn scraps of mercy, but in the end, all that makes you is a slightly better blow-up doll. Something a little bit more fun to masturbate with, not something different.”

Then Max drove the needle through her nipple in one sharp push.

Not even her breathlessness could stop the scream, although it did mute it significantly. Her whole body went ramrod stiff for a moment, and then every muscle unclenched at once, everything she was shaking like a leaf about to be blown from a tree in a storm. She pissed herself too, though Max had been expecting that and had already stepped to the side, leaving it there so that he could push her face into down the road, after she’d earned the right not to be strangling every moment. Margret started crying fresh tears as he looked at the trembling girl, the needle glinting inside her nipple as her tits shook with her sobbing, and Max went back to the table to grab and start heating up another needle. “By morning, you’ll understand the truth,” he told her as the flame licked over the metal, her teary eyes frantically following the flame and filling with panic. “What makes you different is that a blow-up doll is only useful when you’re fucking it. When your dick isn’t hard, it doesn’t offer much to help with that problem. You, on the other hand, do.” He approached her again, and she – pointlessly – flinched, choking herself as she tried to get as far away from his as she could. It barely got her another two inches of room. “Now… how many needles do you think it’s going to take before you make me hard again?”

The answer, as it turned out, was five. After she finished thrashing with the fifth, Max noticed that her squirming, screaming, spasming reaction had made his cock rock hard, so he stepped right back between her legs and fucked her again. He left the needles in while he did that too, and Max made a point of playing with her newly skewered tits while he choke-fucked her to another orgasm for both of them. Then, after he had filled her again, he had started pushing needles into her other breast until she had given him a third erection. Then he had started in on fucking her again.

Hours passed like that. After the first few times he came the gaps between him fucking her grew longer and longer, until he was torturing her for an extended period of time of time instead. Her breasts were especially sensitive so he had largely focused on them… cigarette burns, needle piercings, and bruises covered basically all of them at this point. Occasionally he mixed it up, fucking her face or cunt with a dildo he had found in the room – likely one that already tasted like her future mistress, he thought – or working to shove his fist into her. Eventually, he caught her mouthing a word over and over again… please, she was saying. Please please please.

That was when he knew that he had won. She was begging for him to fuck her. Begging for him to get hard again so she could be that obedient little masturbation aid instead of a paintoy for at least few a few minutes. It didn’t mean he was finished just yet… but it was all downhill from here. Once she stopped thinking of herself as a person with hopes and dreams and started realizing that her goals and aspirations should be measured in “Can I make the pain stop for a few minutes,” she was well on her way down the road to being properly trained.

By the time a few more hours had passed after that Margret was almost completely covered in bruises, scrapes, burns, piercings, and various other injuries, and she’d suffered her way through at least a dozen orgasms by the time he couldn’t get her to stand for the noose anymore… her legs had all the firmness of jello by now and no matter how he positioned her or how long he waited they couldn’t support her weight any longer. Finally, hours and hours after she’d started being choked, Max showed her the slightest bit of mercy by lowering her back down to the bed to let her get some rest. He kept her tied up by her hands and wrists so she couldn’t escape but he probably didn’t need to… the moment he put her down she didn’t so much as twitch as he lowered himself onto her and pushed his cock into her warm, slack mouth. “You’re going to do everything I tell you now, right?” he asked her, holding her head. The nod of her head was weak but he felt it on his cock. “No matter what? Because right now I’m thinking I need a piss, and your throat looks awfully convenient to me.” She had made a whimpering noise that his cock had almost fully blocked… but her tongue started automatically lapping at his length. Max smiled. “That’s a good girl.”

That had been another two hours ago.

He had spent the time since then reinforcing the lessons he’d sunk into her… more pain, more fucking, and more edging her. No more orgasms for the slut anymore, either… now that her mind was beginning to associate pleasure with the treatment he wanted her constantly on edge and confused, not getting what she wanted. It would be Astrid’s decision if the pretty redhead ever came again now… but he wanted her turned on and frustrated while she was in pain. The end result was a slut on the bed that was almost as exhausted as Max himself… but she would do.

Now, this wasn’t exactly what Astrid might have meant. She wasn’t broken yet, not really. Margret was exhausted and tired, weak and malleable and obedient at the moment with her will to resist completely shattered, but that wouldn’t last. Given some time to recover she would bounce back… It wasn’t possible to do otherwise, not in only one night. It would take repeated reinforcing of these lessons to make it stick forever, but that wasn’t the challenge the way he saw it. What mattered was that she would obey his commands today… and she would. And so, thirty minutes later when Max walked down the stairs it was with a naked girl crawling on the end of a bedsheet leash behind him, and he was all too ready to present Astrid with her own personal cunt licker ready to get to work.

Astrid sat on the couch in her living room, watching him with intrigued eyes… and he noted the svartalf woman was naked and utterly shameless about it. She must have dropped whatever… magic… maintained her disguise because he wasn’t wearing the glasses now but still saw her how she really was… a slightly too thin, slightly too stretched-looking woman with coal-black skin and coal-black eyes. Margret saw her too and whimpered, but to her credit – and his, he supposed – she only hesitated a single crawling step before she turned her gaze back down and continued after him. “Well, it seems like you had an entertaining evening,” Astraid said, one thin eyebrow raised. “I’m guessing your cock is rather sore by now.”

“I’ll survive,” Max said with a small smile, and he passed the end of the leash over to the svartalf wearing her new wig of golden hair. It shone bright as it cascaded down her bitch black skin in a bright contrast.

“I hope it was a productive evening as well,” Astrid said as she stroked one hand over the woman’s cheek, looking down into her frightened eyes. “Oh, you precious thing… too dumb to realize she was parading herself around on display, completely unaware how fragile the shield of societal rules that protected her truly was until it was too late.” She spread her legs, revealing what Max couldn’t help but notice looked like a very pretty nexus between her legs, and pulled the leash forward. Max had been very clear to the captured server what was expected of her and, thankfully, Margret didn’t embarrass him by needing to be told what to do, and didn’t require any further persuading… She immediately crawled between Astrid’s legs and no matter how tired and sore her lips and tongue were by now they immediately went to work.

The pretty pink thing contrasted brilliantly with her black skin as it glided between the lips of Astrid’s pussy. The svartalf leaned back on the couch, settling further into the cushions, and sighed in pleasure. “Ah! Intriguing… not especially talented I suppose but I can’t blame you for that… she certainl— ah! Certainly has the enthusiasm…” She placed her hand on top of Margret’s head, shuddering slightly as she hedonistically rolled her back in praise of the tongue work the former server was administering to her. Then she looked up, meeting Max’s gaze. “You ah— Well, I’d say that you have lived up to your end of our deal, Max.”

Max smiled confidently as she slipped down onto the other couch. “Told you I would. She’s not my best work… can’t do much more than this in a night, but at least she’s obedient.”

The svartalf moaned with pleasure as her hand guided the bound redhead closer to her. “You mean this isn’t how you sell them?”

He scoffed. “Hardly. I spend weeks making sure they’ve internalized their place and found purpose in it… I work to transform service into their mission for life. By the time I’m done, I want them unable to envision what they would do with themselves if they ever got free.”

Her dark fingers looked like soot as they snaked through Margret’s crimson hair, tangling through it all the way to the base. “What’s the difference?”

“They’re not even close to the same!” Max protested. “Margret here is terrified of resisting, and eager to stay on our good side, but if you opened a door and turned your back on her she’d run. If you continue to keep her hopeless and broken down, she’ll eventually give up completely and become listless, or suicidal, and require more effort than she’s worth. She’s also not trained in how to properly service, nor in rules for submission, or…”

Astrid laughed. “Oh Max… I promise you, you’re overthinking this completely,” she said, smiling. “You act like people haven’t been taking slaves for longer than humans have been setting fires. Taking a woman from her home, or her battlefield, and making her do what you want because you’re stronger than her is practically a law of the universe. All of what you just said… your methods, your control, the way you tame these poor stupid pets… none of that matters. There is only one distinction. Whether or not they obey.” She smiled at him, her eyes glittering. “And for that, the process is simple. The longer it takes them to give you what you want…” One of her fingers had traced down the woman’s side, and Margret abruptly squealed as Astrid grabbed onto her nipple and twisted viciously. Even from here, Max could hear the desperate slurping sounds as the redhead redoubled her pace. “…the more they suffer until they decide to obey.”

Max snorted. “If that were all there was to it, you wouldn’t have had me do it.”

“I confess I was curious,” Astrid admitted. “And I’m impatient. I like things to happen when I give the order the first time… tormenting a lovely little painslut is so much more fun when you already have her tongue on your clit.”

The slaver leaned back, warring with exhaustion. As attractive as the sight was his cock barely did more than twitch, too exhausted to move. “If you want to see the difference, what I can do,” he chuckled, “you’ll have to give me more than one night. We’ll see what you think after I’ve gotten one of Mr. Root’s targets.”

The svartalf moaned out a rich purring sound. “Very well, human… You will get your chains and your guidance. I am still confident you are going to get yourself killed, but it will be interesting at least to watch you try.”

“I’ve never failed in a hunt yet,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m confident I’ll make this one work too. Get me my chains and I will do the rest. When I succeed, you will get the rest of your coin.”

The svartalf purred in pleasure, tightening her grip on Margret’s red hair. “Fiiiiiiiiiine,” she said. “When I’m done. You can wait a bit longer.”

Max leaned back contentedly and yawned. “Take your time and enjoy. I… I’m going to get some sleep.” He wasn’t overly worried about going to sleep around the unfamiliar Svartalf. Mr Root, whoever he was, had assured him that her word was good, but he trusted that less than he did his instincts for people. Astrid’s apparent unwillingness to just take the coins from him was only a part of the reason he found himself trusting Astrid. The woman was… interested… in what was going on. She was quickly becoming invested in this. She wanted to see how it ended. For better or worse, had a partner until this was done.

Margret squealed softly as Astrid tugged on her hair, and Max tilted his head back and closed his eyes to the sound of her tongue lapping away. He was asleep within moments.

The ringing of a hammer echoed in Astrid’s basement as she drove it down on the small anvil time and time again, making Max’s ears hurt. The svartalf worked topless, sweat dripping down her skin and over her tight muscles until she shone like an oil spill on water. He wouldn’t have thought working in a forge, even a small one like she had built for herself down here, without protective equipment would be wise but sparks flew with each impact of the hammer and spraying across her naked skin and breasts, and Astrid never seemed to even notice. Perhaps that should be unsurprising since she was also holding the red-hot metal in her bare hands without gloves as well. Evidently, for a svartalf, it would take significantly more heat than a bit of molten iron to bother her. She worked tirelessly, too… Max wasn’t sure how long she had been down here because he wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but she had been banging away for at least an hour without showing any signs of slowing after he’d come down… the woman seemed indefatigable, at least by something so evidently within her wheelhouse as smithing.

Once again she tossed the chains into the forge, her gaze flitting over to Max. “I warned you this would take some time,” she said, wiping some of the sweat out of her eyes. “Muspelheim iron fights for every single warp and bend. You should get comfortable.”

Max was moving to sit down by the table where the discarded mold lay, still smoldering with the leftover head from when she had doubtless poured molten iron into it to take on the basic shape when he caught sight of Margret. The red-haired captive server hung by her wrists from the ceiling in the corner, unconscious… and if anything looking more worn down and exhausted than she had this morning. Max noted that already she wore rings through her nipples and clit of woven silver, impossibly fine and glittering. “You know you can damage her wrists leaving her like that,” Max said as he walked over to her, lowering her from the hook she had been hung from. With the ease of casual practice he began binding her hand behind her back on the floor.

“And if she needed her wrists to lick my snatch that would concern me,” Astrid laughed, watching as the metal grew hotter and hotter as he worked a billows pump. “Why do you care? The way I see it, anything I let her keep intact she should take as a personal favor.”

Max shrugged. It was true that he’d already turned the girl over to her new mistress, and it really wasn’t his concern how she treated her new pet, but… it was like a work of art. If he had painted someone a picture, he would have to accept that they wouldn’t appreciate it the way he did, or take care of it, or display it right. That didn’t mean, however, that he was obligated to ignore it if he found his painting tossed on the floor and in danger of being stepped on. It was only within his nature to pick it up and clean it off. “Whatever works for you,” he said as Astrid reached back into the impossibly hot forge, grabbed onto the white-hot iron with a casualness that made Max wince, and tossed it back down on the anvil once again.

“Soft,” Astrid scoffed before turning her attention back to the forging. “That is going to get you killed, human. Anyway, if I can get back to work? These chains might not be difficult to make but they are time-consuming,” she said in between hammer blows.

Max settled back to watch, climbing onto the couch now that Astrid was bound more safely. “Hardly seems a task worthy of your skill then?” he questioned.

The svartalf barked out a laugh. “Mortal, when I say they are simple I meant for me. Nothing is simple when it needs to hold godspawn, and the greatest human smith would be confounded by it. It doesn’t make this a challenge for me.” she said. “Besides, these are just the filler work. Important, but hardly the focus point. The collar is the part that is actually tricky… that will require some enchantment to do what it’s required to.” She gestured over at the bench to her right and Max could see the collar sitting there, already formed. “They have to be put on in layers,” she said as she worked. “Then more metal forged on top to seal each layer in. Always stronger, always more secure, until it’s unbreakable by anyone short of Surtr himself.”

“How long will that take then?” he asked. “A week? A month?”

Her head snapped up to him as she glared at him, seeming to wonder if she was being insulted for a moment. Then she laughed, riotously, almost doubling over. “Sindri, my mentor, took a month to forge Mjolnir,” she said, holding her stomach. “And you think… you think a little collar… for a svartalf…” She laughed until it clearly hurt, shaking her head in disbelief. She picked up a cigarette, lit it, and sucked in a deep breath. “It’s been centuries since I made wonders, mortal… not millennia. I am not that out of practice. This one will be finished by tomorrow.” She resumed hammering, still chuckling to herself. “A month. A month… I forged Gleipnir in a week.”

“The way I remember that story, the chain that bound the Fenris wolf was made Idi and Egil.” Max said, leaning back. “Is one of those your true name?”

Astrid growled. “Ivaldi was a master smith. He could have forged a way to bind the sun and the moon to the sky. The only thing his sons ever forged was credit they didn’t deserve.” The svartalf looked up at him briefly. “So you do know some stories, at least.”

Max didn’t mention that he had been reading the entire Wikipedia on Norse mythology since he woke up… that probably wouldn’t get him much credit from the creature working before him… instead, he just nodded sagely. “A little bit.”

“Not much, but it is good you are not completely ignorant,” the smith said as she got back to work.

“And speaking of that,” Max cut in, seizing the opportunity as he stayed as far away as he could from the heat of the nearly molten metal, “Why don’t you tell me more about these women that I will be hunting down? Start with the closest one… Give me everything you have on her. Is she far?”

A hearty laugh emitted from Astrid as she worked. “Her? Oh, no, not far. Not far at all. That one will be easy enough to find… Selkolla, last I heard, lives right here in Iceland. Do you know anything about her?”

“Only what Google could tell me about her,” Max said idly. “Stories about a supernatural being from Icelandic Folklore. A couple stopped to fuck on the way to a baptism and left their child on a rock while they indulged. It died before they finished, and that sin summoned the monster to ravish their town, or something like that.”

Astrid looked up, her face twisted oddly. “G… google?” she asked. “What is that?”

This time it was Max’s turn to roll his eyes. “You want to say I know nothing, but you’re living in the human world and you don’t know what Google is? Have you heard of computers, at least?”

Astrid turned away and kept hammering… and it was hard to tell on her pitch-black complexion but Max thought she might have… blushed. “You humans are exhausting,” she growled as she worked. “Changing everything too quickly. Who could possibly keep up?”

“Make you a deal. After I come back with Selkolla I’ll explain search engines to you,” Max chuckled.

She snorted. “You barter with empty coin, human. I suspect she will empty you like a wineskin.” She sighed. “Anyway, what you found isn’t exactly wrong. At least some version of that did happen and your monks recorded it, naming her a demon. She’s nothing of the sort, though.” She drove the hammer down especially viciously as she continued. “She’s not a demon. She’s a monster. One of the children of Angrboda.” Astrid paused for a moment, and Max could have sworn she shuddered. “Selkolla is a creature of sin and death… and she will forever inflict both of those back on every creature she meets. Like many of the Mother of Monster’s children, she’s a weapon without a sheath, abandoned after her purpose was finished and left where others can be cut on her edge. Going back 800 years, you could probably put a quarter of Iceland’s unexplained deaths at her feet. Your priests, like the one in about the baptism, called her a succubus, but it is more likely she’s actually the source of the myths your people have of vampires… a bloodsoaked killer with a penchant for biting apart the throats out of her prey and drinking their life away.” Astrid shook her head. “Really, all that makes her sound more grand than she is, like she still has some kind of mission or quest. It’s simpler than that… she’s really just a murderer, albeit one far beyond your abilities.”

He shrugged. “I’ll manage.” The history lesson was nice, but Max really needed to know more than that. “It shouldn’t be a problem for me, but how do I find her? Iceland might be a small nation but its still an a awfully large place to find a single person.” He looked at the forge as Astrid, using a second set of molds, poured more metal around the chains she had been hammering into shape, watching as it slowly hardened as it cooled the slightest bit. He didn’t pretend to understand the mechanics of what it took to forge these powerful collars and chains that he needed… He only needed them to work.

“Relax lover boy,” Astrid said. “You won’t have any trouble with that. It will be easy to find her… Just start going around town to every bar and ask for her. She’ll find you. Of course, then she’ll probably kill you in short order, but at least I’ll get my gold.” The chains and collar were being dunked into some kind of foul-smelling oil to cool and temper them now. Astrid brought them out of the liquid, watching smoke rise off of the collar and chains. The metal glistened with its silvery sheen and looked crisp and new. Astrid took pride in her craftsmanship, double-checking the collar and chain for any imperfections she would need to correct. “One chain down. Seven to go.”

“Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.” Max tried to reassure her… as if she needed reassurance. Like she said, she would be taken care of either way. Max eyed the chains that would be the took he would need to take down this killer, this… succubus. No one was untouchable. He could reach anyone with the right tools and equipment, and Astrid had crafted the perfect tools for him.

Astrid grinned as she watched Max admiring her work. “Chains of Iron, torn from the mountains of Muspelheim… the ore reinforced with the fossilized remains of million generations of Fire Giants. These might be the strongest I’ve ever crafted… once the collar is completed, not even she will be able to escape them. Not that it’s likely to matter to you. A mortal man is nothing to her.” Astrid departed from the forge, carrying the chain over to drop it on his table. “She’s a god-slayer, mortal. Selkolla is the name you humans gave her. Angrboda birthed her with a very different one.”

Max hefted the chain, noting just how heavy it was… far heavier than he would have expected. “Oh? What name was that?”

“Mistletoe,” Astrid said, the flames of the forge reflected in her dark eyes before she turned back towards it, intending to get back to work. “She called her daughter Mistletoe.”

On the twelfth bar of the night, his excitement was starting to fade and Max was starting to have his doubts that anything Astrid had said was true.

It had been four days since arriving in Iceland. Three since he had broken in Margret for his new partner. Astrid had finished her work on the collar while he slept that next night, but she hadn’t begun work on any of the others yet. “I’ll bother making them if you survive, human,” she had told him, and Max hadn’t bothered to argue… he was going to be busy with this one long enough for her to work on the next set of restraints anyway so there was no need to pick a fight over it. It was frustrating, however, that nearly thirty bars into the process of hunting for Selkolla he had barely had a whisper of progress.

The process was simple enough. He walked into each bar, ordered a drink, and asked after a regular named Selkolla, loudly enough he could be overheard easily. He stayed there long enough to drink a beer or two to give time for work to travel that someone was looking for her. He also bought some other people drinks, asking questions of other regulars… even as a foreigner a few rules were universal, and one of them was that if you were willing to buy people alcohol they were easy to talk to. One a few regulars even mentioned thinking they might have heard the name before, though. He could only hope that they were lying and someone called her the moment he turned around to warn her of the suspicious man seeking after her.

The latest drink arrived in front of him, and he turned to the bartender. “Know a woman named Selkolla?” he asked. “Real beautiful lady?”

The big guy behind the bar simply shrugged his shoulders. “Never heard of her, sorry.”

Max sighed. He quickly pounded the drink then, reluctantly, he rose. Max’s head was heavy with exhaustion as he rose up from the barstool he sat on and walked around the bar. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he felt that he needed to simply move to clear his head. He didn’t think… he just walked, pacing back and forth as he thought. This was getting frustrating. Max was used to being able to be more… proactive… in his hunts. There were so many bars in the city that it would take forever for he was to go to all of them and ask for Selkolla by name. He wanted to get this over with quickly so he could move on and get onto the next mark, but he had to complete this one first.

Abruptly, Max realized he wasn’t sure where he was. He had been walking… had walked out of the main room of the bar without consciously thinking about what he was doing. His head felt foggy… he shook it, trying to clear his vision. It was unlike him but it looked like, without a thought, he had wandered into an unfamiliar room… a bedroom somewhere above the bar he suspected. The well-furnished room was warm and comfortable and it had a large, round bed in the center of it, decorated with red sheets. Max rubbed at his temple, dazed, trying to clear his mind as he felt hands on him from behind, soft, delicate, and feminine… but stronger than steel. Then he was being shoved forward and stumbled, falling forward onto the bed. He tried to scramble back up, recover himself but Max found himself suddenly so lethargic and uncoordinated that he couldn’t do much but fall on his face. With what felt like a herculean effort he managed to turn just enough to look up at the… woman… standing over him.

She was unbelievably, perfectly beautiful.

Really. That was the only thing he could think of. That thought and that thought alone stopped his thought process in its tracks, and every time his eyes focused on her again his brain seemed to restart like a skipping record. His suddenly foggy mind had difficulty pushing far enough to side to even think about anything else… every other thought he had kept circling back to her, like it just bypassed his conscious mind and focused on something deep and animal, a need that reduced him to some kind of drooling ogre. Somewhere deep, deep, deep beneath it all Max registered that he was in danger but it was so hard to hold onto that idea… it was like someone had trapped his mind in a hall of mirrors, and everywhere he looked it circled back a distorted version of the same thought over and over again. Beautiful. Perfect. Beautiful.

Max fought back, circling that thought, seeing it from other angles. It was easy enough to examine her body, at least. She was tall and buxom, with skin like cream and dark black hair that cascaded down her shoulders in silken waves all the way down to the small of her back. She was dressed, although it did little to hide her body… she wore a tank top that was at least two sizes too small and served mostly to outline her breasts and the hard nubs of her nipples beneath the fabric, and it ended more than an inch above her navel. Her denim shorts were so short that every inch of her thighs was on full display, or at least every inch that wasn’t covered by the fishnet stockings that crept up and up until they vanished beneath the shorts. She was curvy with wide hips and large breasts, and everything about her screamed of softness and comfort. She looked gentle and fertile and welcoming, like he could vanish into her embrace and all his worries would disappear… but even then there was a strange shimmering to that appearance, an unreality to it.

By the time Max fought his way free enough of the thoughts to even notice what she was doing, he had been moved to the bed. His shirt, and his backpack, had been left on the ground when she forced him onto his back. His hands were thrust above his head and off the side of the round bed, bound to chains coming from beneath it. Max instinctively struggled to pull at them but his efforts seemed so weak even to him, and he was distracted easily… it was hard to stay focused on what you were doing when the raw sex oozing from the woman touching him kept leaking into his brain. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen straddled him, sitting on his waist and looking down at him with bright, ice-blue eyes. “I heard that someone had been looking for me,” she purred down at him, her hips shifting in a way that was very, very distracting as it rubbed her ass over the tent he was making in his pants. She chuckled… a husky, sensuous sound. “I wasn’t sure who that could be. A parent or lover of the dead, perhaps? So lonely he couldn’t wait to join them?”

Max worked his mouth with extreme effort. “Suh— Sel— kolla…” he forced between dry lips.

She smiled at him, and that smile almost made his brain melt out through his ears. “That’s meeeee. It is nice to have fans,” she said cheerfully. “But what kind of fan are you? A thrill-seeking fool questioning if the legends are true? A lost little lamb on a doomed quest for vengeance? Normally when people know my name it is because someone told them about me… and few enough of those people are walking around.” As she spoke her appearance seemed to blur, shifting ever so slightly… becoming even more attractive, if that was possible. Some part of him processed that… she was shifting to match his idea of ideal beauty, more precisely than any natural living woman could have ever managed. Perfect. Beautiful. “So… who is it who told you of me? One of my rare repeat playthings? One of the cults that worshiped me from their sad little basements? Some enemy from the old days?” She shivered with anticipation and it made her breasts do some amazing things, even through the tank top she wore. “This is going to be so much fun, unwrapping the little mystery… and before the night is out you are going to tell me everything, little plaything.”

Her hands pushed down his stomach and she grabbed the hem of his pants, tugging at it her other hand glided over his exposed chest, teasing him. Every touch of her skin on his threatened to obliterate his ability to remember how to think, or even to breathe, but Max tried to hold on… the woman was arrogant. She hadn’t bound his feet at all, and there was only a single point of restraint. Nothing she had done so far spoke of any particular ability to out-muscle him… If she could get his mind free enough of her influence then that overconfidence would be her downfall. Right now, he needed to reverse the situation… his mind drifted to the collar and chains inside the backpack. He only had to reach them…

Selkolla dragged her touch down his body until both hands rested now at the waistline of his trousers. Two fingers gave a playful flick to unsnap the button of his jeans, and then her agile digits had dropped the zipper, sliding it slowly down over the awkward bulge he was making until the tension released and he sprang free, his cock leaping skyward in his boxers as she laughed in delight. All thoughts of the collar vanished into the haze her touch invoked. “Well look at you,” she purred as she wrapped one hand around him, squeezing him softly as she dragged her hand up and down slowly over the thin layer of fabric. Her other hand raked through his soft brown hair, the palm of her hand caressing the stubble on his cheek. “Such an eager, good little boy down here, isn’t he?” Her face moved forward, licking across his chest… her tongue caressed his well-defined pecs until her mouth found his nipple, pulling it into her mouth for a second before she continued. “I don’t think this is the first time you have had a woman on top, is it?” she purred. “It might be the last though. Depends on what you have to tell me…” Her hand slid inside his pants, gliding beneath his underwear and inside to feel along the rigid length of his cock. Max breathed in deeply when he felt her soft fingers caressing over his shaft, a beautiful contrast been heat and chill as she wrapped around him. Her hand curled around his member gently, almost delicately… slowly working it back and forth between her tightening grip as it became firmer one fraction of a degree at a time. “I think this magnificent thing might be worth playing with for a bit, at the very least… even if it turns out I have no other need for you after that.”

The dark-haired woman grabbed onto his pants with her other hand, tugging the now loose things down his legs. Selkolla licked her lips when his large cock sprang free from the tight confines of his underwear entirely, her bright eyes shining with playful lust as she looked at it. She laid down on the bed between his spread legs, her head poised right at his inner thigh and gazing longingly at his erect member as two fingers traced up the bottom of it. Her eyes raked over his muscled arms, his fit chest, his hair, eyes piercing eyes, and she clearly approved of what she was looking at even before those eyes swiveled like guns to look at his cock. “Such a specimen of the male species… more than worthy of seeking me out, anytime.” Her eyes gazed past his cock to look into his eyes where he watched with a rapt and captivated stare at what she was doing to him, her lips stretching into a possessive grin. “Mine now,” Selkolla whispered, then she licked her tongue out across her lips before she leaned in close to his manhood. Her warm tongue lapped across his balls and then dragged up the right side of his cock.

Max, who had been fighting to get his thoughts back under control, shuddered as he lost his grip on the walls of his sanity, tumbling further back down into the hall of mirrors she had created around him. “Don’t worry precious,” she purred, her breath fluttering against skin that felt impossibly sensitive. “You’re going to love this. Probably.” Selkolla chuckled. “See, I know what men want… but this isn’t about what you want, now is it? It’s about what I want…” Her tongue felt devilishly hot against his skin. It was soft and smooth, gliding across the rigid pole. “And right now what I want you tell me is who sent you here. You can tell little old me… I won’t be mad…”

Max took in a deep breath, hands tugging and pulling at the restraints over his head. He sucked in some air as he felt her tongue get closer to the tip of his cock, but she never did go all the way. Astrid would sink back down on the bed, putting her face closer to his balls before indulging him that much… keeping herself from where he really wanted her. She was trying to break him into talking, never quite touching the most sensitive parts of him. Max felt what she wanted like a yank on his soul… sort of how he imagined it would feel to be tugged around on a leash. He wanted to make this woman happy, to tell her what she wanted, to seek her forgiveness and worship her. He resolutely kept his mouth shut, instead, using every bit of discipline he had cultivated over more than a decade in his trade to keep his thoughts loyal to him alone. If he revealed what he was really doing here, his purpose, and what he had in the bag, that would be it for him. A short, ignoble end… and then what would Astrid have to say about that?

Probably just a quick laugh.

He focused, locking down his mind, trying to think about anything but how good her tongue felt on his dick. Keeping her guessing and busy while she had her fun would buy him some time, at least. His eyes looked back down his broad chest to see her raise up onto her elbows. Both of her hands were wrapped around his shaft, working it up and down slowly. Her fingers stopped just below the crown of his cock head before she pushed them back down again. She grinned up at him with an evil smile. “Mmm, stubborn boy,” she whispered. Her head bent down to take the tip of his cock into her mouth and she gently suckled on the tip at first. Slowly the pressure increased. He could feel her warm tongue circling over the head of his cock, and his hips shifted from side to side in unthinking need.

To say that it felt good was an understatement so vast he could only call it a lie… The pleasure in Max’s balls was building to a crescendo that he could not hold back, brought on effortlessly by the succubus on the bed with him. Idly Max wondered if she might be ruining him, stealing away his ability to enjoy other women by simple dint of the superiority of what she could do for him… he had always found something to adore about each and every woman he had ever had but Selkolla’s grip on his soul was so complete he couldn’t imagine her not eclipsing each and every one of them. He did his best to buck up into her mouth, held down by her hands as her tongue swirled around him, closer, closer, closer…

The warm flow of hot seed splashed into her mouth as Max lost the battle for control and Selkolla eagerly sucked it up, moaning in pleasure the whole time as she locked her lips around his head and let him spill shot after shot onto her impossibly warm, soft tongue. His whole body had been reduced to a tingling mess by the time she pulled off of him, opening her mouth for long enough that he could see the pool of semen accumulated in the hollow of her tongue. Then she closed her mouth, swallowed, and slowly, sensually opened her mouth again, licking her lips to show that every trace of his seed had vanished into her stomach.

Selkolla raised her body from the bed on her elbows and smiled at him even more. “The first one is always the fastest, lover. I’m glad we could work together to get that out of the way… you’ll last so much longer now.” She crawled up his body with languid, liquid grace, looking more like a prowling cat than a woman at the moment as she moved up until she could stare down into his eye as she flattened him to the bed. Her hips hovered on top of him, pussy bared and spread, ready to take his cock. Her arms pinned him down at the muscular shoulders as she spread herself further. “I think I am going to enjoy this,” she purred as one of her hands grabbed onto his still-erect cock and wiggle it back and forth between her thighs. She teased the tip against her pussy lips, smearing her wetness over him to join with what her mouth had left behind. “Going to tell me what’s going on, plaything? Maybe we can make a deal… if this cock is half as much fun as I think it is, I might even keep you around for a while so we can do this every… single… day…”

The offer shouldn’t have been tempting. It was anyway. She was like a snake wrapped around his heart and mind and soul, except somehow she was both venomous and constricting… squeezing on his will even as the poison of her presence raced through his mind and sent him off on feverish trains of thought that only ended in red-hot searing blazes of pleasure. The offer wasn’t real… he knew that. Selkolla had no intention of making a deal with any mortal… let alone one who had his secrets. She had no prolonged use for him now that he was in her claws… he knew if he could not stay sane and ready then he would die like so many others had once they fell into her clutches.

Selkolla stared at him for several more seconds waiting. Then she smiled. “Pleasure before business,” she purred. “I can respect that…” Her hips rocked over the head of his cock and she lowered herself, and every other thought vanished as he felt the molten hot warmth of her pussy lips as they embraced his cock as he began to open her up, splitting the lips and wrapping them around him. She pressed down even more, gasping when the thick head popped inside of her pussy. With her hands pressed down onto his bare chest now, Selkolla started to ride Max. Her hips lowered slowly down, swallowing up his hard cock as his member vanished between her silky folds, sinking deeper and deeper at the painfully slow pace that she had decided upon.

Selkolla groaned in pleasure as she raped the man underneath her, and it was obvious any pleasure that he felt was an unconscious result of her perfect body being wrapped around him… all of this was for her sake. When she was done with him there would be nothing left. For Max, staying so completely silent save for the occasional groan of pleasure was all but impossible but he managed. “Perhaps…” she purred, pondering. “Perhaps another orgasm will loosen your tongue. Or perhaps I will keep you like this for days, until you are so desperate to pop that you are just screaming. Is there really nothing you want to say to me?”

Under most circumstances, Max might have said a lot to a woman half as beautiful as her… especially now that she was fucking him hard and fast without him having to do the work. She was good too – She not only perfectly anticipated every yearning urge of his body, too perfectly to be natural, but she also knew what to do to make him last. Her hips would rise up, slam down onto him, she would slowly grind her hips around and then she would start over again. When she could feel his heartbeat increase or his breath get a bit too excited, she would slow down her pace to make it last even longer.

He wasn’t sure how long she kept him there, thrashing in mindless need, yearning to break free, to run, to fight, to wrap his fingers around her delicate neck… to hold onto her breasts and worship them, to embrace her against him, to bring those perfect lips to her mouth. At last, it seemed that her own needs began to eclipse her patience. She slammed her hips down on top of him again and again and again until she pushed him over the edge, and he could feel his spunk firing off deep inside of her in jerk after jerk of his twitching cock. Selkolla licked her lips as she leaned down over the top of him and kissed his cheek, her warm, soft breasts pressing directly into his bare chest. She ran her fingers through his hair teasingly as she stared right into her eyes, his dick still twitching inside her as if it wasn’t sure if its goddess wanted it to still be hard or not. “Still nothing to say, hmm? No word on who you’re working for?” Selkolla shook her head. “That is a damned shame. I might have kept you around for longer.”

Max clawed his way upward in his mind, the sense of danger growing now only a little bit utterly drowned by the sense of lust and need. He knew that it wasn’t an idle threat to get rid of him… not after what Astrid had told him about the woman. Selkolla might like some fun and games but that wasn’t her true nature… she was a cold-hearted killer that would get rid of him at a moment’s notice. His hands yanked and tugged on the chains that held him, only realizing now that his wrists were bloody… he had never stopped pulling at them and trying to get free, even as his conscious mind had retreated deep into himself, the pleasure and lust and need driving his thoughts away from his freedom. Even after all this time, however, there was no give in the chains that tied him to the bed.

That fight, the look in his eyes, was evidently what Selkolla had been waiting for. She grinned wider as she looked down at him and her tongue licked over her lips. It wasn’t a sensual lick either. This was more of a hungry lick that a predator gave when they had not feasted in a long time. Her mouth opened wide, canines too sharp to be human glistening in her mouth as she grabbed onto his head and pressed it down to the side, baring his neck to her. Adrenaline gave Max another surge and she managed to push his neck away from her a little but she had all the leverage and he was still unable to escape his chains… his heart racing a mile a minute, she patiently waited for him to tire of thrashing before she pinned him back down. “Thank you for the lovely cock,” she purred as her mouth descended slowly. “Goodbye, whoever you are.”

Then the descending edge of her chin brushed against Mr Root’s ring where, instead of putting it on a finger, he had strung it on a cord around his neck.

Astrid had been very specific… Selkolla was the source of the vampire legends. She went for the neck. He might not have enough sense in the moment to use the ring Mr. Root had given him to defend himself, but that was what preparation was for… so he wouldn’t have to.

When she touched the metal, something happened. The metal ring flared brightly enough that for an instant Max could see Selkolla’s bones through her skin. Then a surge of energy poured outward and with a shrill cry, she was knocked back like she was a golf ball struck by a club. The powerful discharge fed into the succubus, stunning her as she sprawled on the ground of the demon’s private fuckpad, temporarily senseless. It wouldn’t last long, but it was the opportunity Max needed.

The haze of lust and confusion that had been surrounding him since he had walked into here burned away like the mist with dawn. With the ring active, Max felt better than he could ever remember feeling before… stronger, healthier, and quicker of thought. He jerked on the chains that bound him and they ripped apart at the weakest link, a piece of each restraint shattering as he quickly rose from the bed and dove for his backpack. The ring wouldn’t last long, or so the letter claimed, and he didn’t want to waste any more of its energy than absolutely necessary… his hands flew into the bag, closing around the chains and collar that Astrid had forged. Selkolla was starting to stir again… moving with haste one step short of active desperation, Max lunged at her, cuffed her hands behind her back, and slammed the collar closed around her neck.

The instant that collar closed he felt it… a sudden lack of pressure against him. The succubus was surrounded in some kind of seductive haze, a power she had over anyone who looked at her. The ring had let him fight through it but it hadn’t taken it away… however, when the collar closed around her the power vanished, enough that Max gasped and staggered from how he had been bracing against it without realizing. Reaching up to his neck he grabbed the ring and tossed it away from him, hoping that that would work, and thankfully the glowing surge of power faded rapidly back to normal.

Max lifted the succubus up and threw her face down on the bed, and only after he had done that did he allow himself to let out a breath of relief. That had been… close. Closer than he wanted to think about. That play with the ring around his neck had seemed like a good idea when he had done it but he had considered it a backup plan, a last resort. He hadn’t expected his resistance and strength to be so utterly beneath the task of stopping the Selkolla, that she would be so effortlessly able to do what she wanted with him. He tried to console himself that she was about a thousand years old and had been praying on men without being stopped that whole time, but it still stung. Still, he could allow himself to relax at least a little now.

The weapon he had been given worked… He had her.

Selkolla was coming out of her daze and beginning to struggle against her bonds, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake she did. He quickly closed the cuffs around her legs as well, holding them together as she jerked and pulled on the bed, seeming to already struggle for freedom before she’d fully come back to consciousness. When she did, her eyes focused on him, and she drew back her lips in a snarl. “You son of a bitch,” she snarled, and there was nothing pleasant in her voice now… it was cold with rage and had something subaudible behind it that he could feel in his bone when she spoke. “Take these off me and get your hands away from me before I—”

He slapped her across the face.

Perhaps Max was a little angry from being overcome, or maybe he was just hopped up on adrenaline from the fight, but he hit her harder than he had been intending to. She went momentarily silent as her face snapped to the side – more from shock and outrage than pain he thought, but that didn’t matter. He stood over her and he could feel the impact still stinging his hand as he admired his latest catch… every bit as lovely as she had been in the throws of his desperate lust. That wasn’t the say she was the same, however. For one thing, her hair had changed – it was a shimmering drape that transitioned between black and blue in a way no human’s natural hair ever had. Her ears had lengthened and widened, and her pupils were cat-slitted… most likely whatever non-human-looking elements of herself she was hiding couldn’t be concealed anymore the moment the iron collar closed around her. According to Astrid, Muspelheim iron was like a ground for magic. The fossils mixed into the ore, the bones of giants – which sounded no less crazy to him today than it had a week ago – were so hungry for magic that they sucked in everything they could get like a very, very dry sponge. The effect was that no one wearing the metal could work any magic at all… it stripped away every element beyond muscle, bone, and sinew that made the wearer dangerous.

“Bastard!” she snarled, narrowing her eyes. “I’ll kill you! I’ll flay you alive!” Max ignored her curses as he examined her body which, he noticed, was every bit as lovely as it had been before… at least what he could see. She hadn’t bothered to take off her top… she hadn’t even bothered to take her shorts off all the way and they hung part of the way off one of her legs. The bitch had been in a hurry to get on top of him. Well, if she wanted his cock that badly he could indulge her.

Max took a deep breath. Then he grabbed onto her tank top and yanked. The tight fabric, already too small and stretched to its limit, ripped with shocking ease while Selkolla screamed out in fury. “Shut up,” he growled as he ripped her clothing apart. “You’ll speak when I want you to. You think you are so special?” Max slid his hands beneath her body, finding her breasts and cupping them, discovering to his delight that they were just as soft as he had imagined. “That you can do whatever you want? You can’t… Not anymore, bitch. You’re in my world now… and the tables have turned. Let’s see how you like being the one that is tied up and helpless.” Max kicked her chained legs further apart, spreading them out. He had little remorse for this woman after she tried to kill him only moments before… even less than he usually had. In fact, he was positively thrilled at this. It was nerve-wracking how it had been his contingency plan that had saved him, his last resort… but it had been his contingency plan. Mr Root’s tools, and Astrid’s knowledge, but his idea how to use the tools he had been given. He had put his wits against this ancient creature, and while he had barely won… he had won.

He needed to break her, to make her submit to him, to speak the words his client wanted… but that could wait. Right now, he wanted to revel in his victory and enjoy his prize.

Selkolla was trying to roll away from him so he climbed on top of her, a morbid reflection of how she had ridden him earlier as he gripped tightly to the chain connected to her collar. The weight of his body was enough to make it impossible for the bound girl to roll over, pressing her tits against the bed as he pinned her, feeling her perfect body beneath him. His groin pressed down into her, sliding over her luscious, rounded bottom. The shaft, still slick in the juices from her exquisite little cunt, sunk between her ass cheeks and he slowly ground his cock into that crack, dry humping his cock against her bottom.

Selkolla clutched her fingers into the bed sheets, howling in fury. Her snarls were animal as she turned her head to the side so she could get a glimpse of Max’s grinning, smug face. “You might have the upper hand now, mortal… but when you are finished, I’m going to rip your throat out!” she hissed at him.

“No,” he said, smiling. “You won’t.” Max enjoyed it when his girls had fight in them, especially on the first ride… it always made it so much better. His cock sawed back and forth between her ass cheeks, gliding down until the cock tip touched against her puckered star. “So you might want to save the bragging and bravado for when we are done here… you’ll need it. I have a job to do with you, you little cock-hungry slut, and it doesn’t end with me getting a Columbian necktie from the likes of you.” His cock head pressed against her bare bottom even harder. The entrance was absurdly tight, and Max idly wondered if this little sex doll had ever taken anyone back here before or if she was the kind of proud whore who would never even consider it. In the end, it didn’t matter… he could already tell this was going to be a fantastic ride.

Some of the slickness from where she had fucked him earlier was still on his cock and that was the only lubricant the bitch was going to get. He pressed harder, watching his cock head slowly, slowly, slowly force her tight ring open. She wailed when it popped inside of her tight confines, and Max had to groan… her ass was really tight on his cock, even sweeter than her perfect little pussy had been, and no matter how incredible the first fuck had been at pleasing him, this unwilling clenching on him was even better. Selkolla thrashed, her hands tugging at the chains, her legs kicking, her head pulling against his grip attached to her collar. He could see the frustration and anger in her as she realized that she couldn’t escape… Her eyes went wide as she realized that this wasn’t some ordinary collar and chain that she had locked around her neck. That she had no way to get away. He could identify with that helplessness. She had felt invincible, like no chains could hold her. That her own abilities would simply let her break free. Max had learned a hard lesson about that today… he only intended to make Selkolla’s lesson even harder, and never, ever give her an opportunity to use it.

Gritting her teeth while her ass got stretched by Max, she managed to choke out the words to speak to him with extreme effort. “Where the hell… ahh… f-fuck!… Did you get… Musphelheim iron?”

Putting his hands onto her ass cheeks Max slapped them, first one and then the other. His hand prints leaving a large pink print on her ass. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know that,” he said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t speak for you when I was at your mercy, and you think I will now? Maybe I’ll tell you someday. Not tonight, though. I’m too busy having fun this evening to talk.” Max reared back with his cock and slammed it down harder into her ass cheeks like he was driving a spike into concrete. His cock speared through the resistance of her tight backdoor hole, tearing through it. With so little lubrication, his giant cock was going to make a mess of her asshole but somehow he wasn’t worried about ruining this one… he doubted any human could. He didn’t hold back in the slightest… the way her hole gripped him was an experience unlike anything else he could have ever imagined, and he was going to take full advantage.

His cock stabbed into her repeatedly and Max enjoyed hearing her cries and sobs as the arrogant, self-assured murderess was brought low. He watched Selkolla’s face, gritted in pain as she clenched her teeth, trying and failing again and again to get her arms and legs free from the restraining chains. Astrid had been good to her word, he saw… the bindings were perfect for a monster like her. As the svartalf had promised they prevented her from using any of her strength or magical might to break them, leaving her completely helpless underneath him. Unless he let his guard down and let her get the upper hand once again, she was his prize now.

Oh, and what a prize she was. If he had thought her pussy was the best fuck he had ever had, and he had, then her perfectly fuckable guts immediately made a lie of that idea. It was like fucking a hole that was almost perfect. No matter how much he stretched her out it seemed like she was always adjusting to be just a little bit too small for him, a little bit tighter and hotter and squeezing than it should be so that he needed to break his way through… a hole that made him fight for every single thrust and then rewarded him for his victory. Her body, he realized, was intensely well trained in perfectly giving a man whatever he wanted from it… a perfect weapon of seduction and pleasure, quite literally born to please a man in bed and be the best little cockholster possible. He normally needed to train a girl for weeks or months to teach her a fraction this much, and he suspected this was Selkolla’s first-ever assrape. After he’d broken her this little murdering monster wouldn’t need training at all… she would just need to be there, and her body would see to everything. Max suspected that if he turned her loose on the streets of Manhattan or Beverly Hills with a little black book it would only take her a few months to earn more as a whore than he had in his entire career as a slaver… once her reputation spread, men would give anything to sample this one.

“Ah!” Selkolla grunted out, trying and failing to maintain some shred of dignity as he plundered her asshole. Max felt certain that as used to conquest and dishing out pain and control as she was she was equally unused to being on the receiving end of any of it. “L… listen, mortal, I know you… argh… I know you have it in for me, but we fit so well together…” she tried to bargain, and there was an almost musical tone to her voice beneath the grunt and cries and whimpers. An attempt at enchantment, no doubt… woven into her words, absorbed by the collar. “Imagine fucking me every night. I’m… I’m all but a goddess. One that would never get tired of you. One that can please you endlessly. You can have me every night. Just take these chains off of me and I will be yours.”

She knew she was suffering, so the mere attempt told him plainly of her desperation to get him to stop. Still, he slowed and allowed her to think that he was considering it. That her desperate attempt had worked. His fat cock glided back, leaving only the tip inside of her ass, and he stopped fucking her, letting her catch her breath, stop grunting. “You’d be mine?” he asked her. “You’d serve me… please me, every day and every night? Give me whatever I wanted.”

“Yes!” she almost screamed. “I’ll do all of that.”

“You love my cock that much?” he whispered. “You said it was a nice one… are you really that greedy for it?”

“I love your cock!” she gasped eagerly. “Let me out of these chains and I’ll show you something really magical. I wasn’t even really trying when I let you cum in my mouth earlier… I can do so much better, leave you shaking for days you’ll come so hard. I’ll do everything you want!”

He leaned down. “You already will,” he breathed in her ear. The sensation of her tight ass squeezing on his cock was certainly heavenly, but he had many women over the years. He didn’t need one that would turn on him at a moment’s notice and try to kill him. He plunged forward once more, letting his cock glide through her tight inner walls, and Selkolla let out a surprised, pained scream. “You already tried to kill me once… and you think I’m going to give you a second chance? Even if Mr. Root didn’t want you, even if I didn’t always deliver on the job I’ve been hired to do, I wouldn’t let you go even if I believed you… and I don’t. The chains stay on!” Max declared to her.

He continued pummeling her, and Selkolla gritted her teeth, burying her face back between the bed sheets and the pillow that her face rested on. He had no intention of being gentle with her. This was both for pleasure and punishment. His cock slammed into her hard and fast, brutally fucking her insides. Her ass cheeks bounced with every thrust that Max delivered into it. “I’ll remember what you said about that blowjob though,” he said playfully. His hand came down to smack onto her bottom again, turning it a deeper shade of red. “Now I know how to tell if you’re slacking off next time.”

Selkolla grimaced as she suffered through his assault on her unguarded back door. “Please! I have money! You were hired? I’ll double whatever it was… You can go home and enjoy it. Tell your client you couldn’t find me… just leave me and I’ll take my chances with whoever he sends next…” There was no music in her voice now, no attempt at enchantment… just desperation. “Take off this collar and leave, and I’ll give you everything I have! I’ll let you go with it, you’ll never see me again, I’ll— shiiit!” Her bargaining cut off abruptly as Max finally managed to bottom out his cock in her tight, resisting ass. His balls rested against her pussy now, finding it just as scorching hot as it had been earlier. Tears swelled up in the succubus’s eyes, and she sniffled a little as she struggled. Max was again struck by how little experience she had with suffering any pain at all this creature must have… what he was forcing her through was too much for her, and there was nothing she could do to get him to stop.

“It’s not about the money,” he growled into her ear as he stayed wedged inside of her as far as humanly possible. “I have a reputation. When I have a job to do… I do it. This right here, this tight asshole… It’s just a little bonus for me no amount of money you have can match. I’ll enjoy every pleasure your body can offer before I get to the serious part of my work, and there’s nothing you can do about that, either.” Max liked that she kept trying to bribe him through various means. She was resourceful and more than likely she did have money, but he was hired to do a job. He would deliver her as promised. Then, maybe after he’d broken her and she was his, he might see about the money. Perhaps retirement was actually an option for once… he couldn’t imagine any challenge from any client would ever measure up to this one in the future.

But that was a problem for future Max.

The slaver drew back and rammed his cock back back in, once, twice, three times. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to fuck this tight, perfect little cumdump forever… but she was just too perfect, too tight, milking him too greedily. With a grunt, Max pressed his cock deep into her asshole once more and then his cock swelled inside of her. Warm jets of his hot cum shot out from the deeply buried head to bathe her insides with his white cream. Selkolla wailed in misery as she collapsed nearly limp onto the bed, panting for breath. Max stayed inside her, over his, holding his muscles tight. She probably thought that his orgasm being over meant they were done. She was about to learn otherwise… this was far from over. Max’s life had given him plenty of practice in shorting his refractory period, and that was with a normal girl… with a hole this tight practically molded around his cock it would only be moments before his cock was hard and ready to go again. His hands gripped onto her ass cheeks, playing with them… he squeezed them between his fingers like they were clay to be molded. His hand smacked her ass cheek hard, stinging it red with his handprint.

“First lesson. Simply because I came doesn’t mean you get to rest yet, dear Selkolla. The duty of any good pleasure slave isn’t just to make hard cocks soft… it’s also to make them hard again.” His hips reared back once more and his cock glided out of her ass. His cock popped free from her bottom and a stream of his cum flowed from her gaping ass cheeks. “Thankfully for you… With a body like this, you have an edge on your competition.”

Selkolla looked back, eyes wide with horror as she noticed that he was already ramrod stiff again. “No…” she whispered.

The slaver moved his cock back into position to rub over her ass once more. “Yes,” he answered. Then he thrust it back into her tight hole so she could feel his cock anew.

Selkolla shrieked when his cock went into her ass. She had managed to avoid crying through her first rape, but the realization that he was nowhere near done had apparently crossed some kind of threshold… her eyes were wet and dripping with tears now as she wiggled on the bed, struggling to get free from his cock as it violently beat up her insides, ripping apart her asshole again and again. His cock brutally slammed into her bottom over and over again while she screamed, and he enjoyed the ride her unwilling body was giving him as she fought.

The room that Selkolla had brought him to must not have been connected to any place where people could hear her scream… Either that or it was soundproofed from the inside so that no sound got out to any anyone else. That made sense to him if this was a place that predator routinely used to bring her meals… and it means he could let her scream for him to stop, to be gentle, to fucking take it out of her ass. No matter how she screamed, though, no one came to her rescue, and no one intruded on his fun. Safe from the rest of the world, his cock plunged into her tight ring again and again, her opening stretching and gaping with every thrust of his cock.

Max plowed into her bottom, beating his cock into her ass cheeks and making the entire bed shake with the force of his fucking. She was truly just a fantastic fuck. Max supposed he could tell her already how she could make this end, what he wanted from her, but why bother? He was still having his fun. Some simple words from her wouldn’t be enough to end his desire to fuck her, after all, so it seemed too cruel to even dangle the carrot… instead, he just enjoyed how she screamed when his cock pounded deep into her ass. The tight constriction of her ass muscles around his cock as they tried to squeeze his member out of her was perfection… the very thing that was trying to make him stop was just making it so pleasant he would never want to, his cock getting squeezed tighter and tighter by her warm insides.

His hand smacked across her ass cheeks a few more times as he fucked her harder. The bed shook, its legs rocking up temporarily off the hardwood floor with half his thrusts as he hammered into her. His second orgasm into her ass, his fourth of the night, was building up quickly, climbing to the forefront of his mind. He would soon fire off his second load into her clenching guts, and then he would have to start thinking about his true conquest of the murderous little whore… but right now he wanted just to focus on his uncomplicated, raw pleasure. The slaver put his hand down against her neck, making sure she wouldn’t move as he slammed his cock into the tight ring of muscle trying and failing to protect her once more. His cock hilted to the balls once again as his swollen member jerked inside of her. The warm pulses traveled along his cock and up to the tip. The blunt tip flared briefly before another warm spray of his potent seed flooded into her ass.

Max panted heavily, sweat dripping from his body. This time, Selkolla hadn’t made a sound but some grunts as he came inside her… pulling out and turning over, he realized that the succubus had passed out while he was assraping her, fucked unconscious. Max listened carefully and Selkolla’s breathing was slow and steady, not concerning in any way, and he slowly watched his seed drip from her jerking sphincter. Then he shrugged and simply got off the bed, going back into his backpack and pulling out a bottle of water. Sweat dripping from the slaver’s brow, he drank deeply.

Then he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Simon? Yeah, it’s Max. Yeah, I’m still in Iceland. I’m going to need a private plane chartered. Wheels up as soon as you can manage it.” He looked at his prize and smiled as he listened to his business manager speak in his ear. “Yeah… I’m headed home.”