The Comare
The Dragon Sated
He rewarded her with
another orgasm at his hands and his deep voice gently soothing her down from
the high of near death and her pleasure.
Finally he kneeled
across from her. “Lay in the mess and recover.” He ordered. “I am going to
shower, and you are not worthy of showering with me. Lay there and finger
yourself and replay the lessons we explored together.” His eyes were predatory,
but already unconsciously she was obeying him, fingering herself.
He went and quickly
showered in her bathroom and then came back out.
As she lay there,
he nimbly began to dress himself.
“You’re not
staying the night?” she seemed almost panicked, saddened. “Oh please Master Laurence!
I beg you.”
“You beg nothing!”
He said suddenly and angrily and stared at her resolutely. “I have things to
do; you are but a plaything, a comare,
a whore.”
She flinched at the
cold, ruthless words he threw at her. A tear ran down her cheek.
He only smiled at
it. “Fear not dear Ms Dellano,” he said. “I did promise I would teach you to
enjoy darkness. I know what you want and crave and I hold the key to it.”
He silently finished dressing as she only stared at him in
shock, a part of her perhaps wondering if this was some dream, if the huge
Underboss was really here at all.
After dressing he
leaned in over on the bed, close to her and once again the knife was open, but
this time it pressed at her throat and not very sensuously. This time she felt
true terror in her heart, as his presence engulfed her. “Listen to me well,
Diana.” He instructed in a cold voice, the presence of the Dragon enshrouding
her, “If you want to keep on learning to appreciate darkness with me, you will
not write one peep about the Jerome Family, or me. We are ghosts, all of us. As
long as you respect that rule, fine. But if I read one word in any of your ‘
disgust, “About me or my Family then you will find me a very different teacher
indeed and our association will be over.”
She could feel the
knife nearly puncturing the skin, this time however it felt icy cold like his
demeanor. “I promise, not a word, my dark Master.”
He abruptly stood
up and replaced the knife in his pocket. He then reached into his breast pocket
where the money was and pulled out close to 3000$ it was a part of his share of
tonight’s take from the game. With almost a cruel flaunt he tossed the wad of
cash at her naked form. “Go buy yourself a new dress or some jewelry, or a new
mattress and bedding…” he chuckled cruelly a moment, “after all, it’s what
He could see the
shock and almost anger cross her face for a moment. But held up one hand
silencing it immediately, “Listen to me well, Ms Dellano.” He ordered, “I don’t
give a fuck if you donate that money to charity. If you are wise you will
appreciate whatever gifts I give you, but understand me well. There is NOTHING
between us, do you understand?” his blue eyes pierced her soul like his knife
so earlier had, “Nor will there ever be! You are my toy, my plaything and
nothing else. If you push at me to be more, then I will be gone faster than you
can blink. Do we thoroughly understand each other?”
She merely nodded
her eyes unable to meet his. Slowly she gathered the wad of cash he had tossed
at her. He insulted her, he humiliated her and he was as cruel as the devil
himself but no man had ever taken her to such heights of sexual ecstasy, ever.
She knew she was but his slave and would do whatever he asked, whatever he
demanded.
“Yes Master.” She
meekly answered him.
“Good.” He merely
said. “Good night Diana.” He turned and then simply left. The Undertaker had
taken a comare for now.