FELL BEAST by Mistress Steel copyright 1998   The iron collar slipped roughly against the tender flesh of a neck too narrow and delicate to wear its foulness. With every movement the lock would sound, tiny reminders of the contract that bound her spirit to choices long forgotten and only casually understood. She slipped the shroud of consent across her body, shape shifter dreams to entice the Master or Mistress within range of her need. "Come closer..." The words sheer whispers existing deep within the mind itself. Her body could parade the scent, screams and pleas that lured them so sweetly. Restlessly her head lifted. Her need was growing, their ability to satiate her diminishing. When the altar had begun in truth she could not say. They had been there, easy prey, tasty and sweet bitter tears upon her tongue. She knelt between the Mistress's legs to lap eagerly at the hairless labia sucking precious energy with every droplet of mucus. So easy to be the tiny kitten that was the cloak of her disguise. Vulnerable. Innocent. The need would drive her to seek more satisfying meat soon, this truth she knew. The Mistress drew the tiny viper closer, insisting on the feed. Wrapping fingers in long luxurious hair and pleasuring over the unexpected capture of such a delicate and beautiful slave. The Master gazed upon the sight, the heat in his loins igniting with every moist sound. He frowned at his own captivation, instantly eager to punish her for the temptation her open asshole offered so easily. His eyes slipped away before he might reveal his compulsion to the Mistress. The tiny sharp teeth nibbled at the hardened nub that was the Mistress's downfall. Moans of pleasure and the rutting of the animal forced her face deeper and deeper until all breath was drawn from tiny gaps in the bucking squirming. She fed, raping the unsuspecting female with long draughts of sucking. Mistress brought a split tailed whip down hard across the delicate bones of the slaves back. Instant tiny welts lifted, minute droplets of blood nearly invisible where the edges had severed tiny vessels. The slave moaned, a vibration inside the cunt, tongue and mouth increased the pressure. Mistress screamed, flowing quakes of agonized ecstasy into the pulsing orifice that was the object of usage. "More slave, MORE MORE MORE!" The whip laced through the air to write its deadly message of pain across shoulders, back and ass. Too oft hit spots began to bleed openly, tiny smears absorbing into the whip to return with the next stroke and the next. Mistress rocked and released, hatred and bliss driving her hand harder and faster, her control escaped, her basest self reigning free with its poorly held devastation. She pressed the face of the slave firmly into her pulsing, throbbing maw and demanded in harsh bitter language that the slave continue. The beast plucked at the swollen flesh with tongue and teeth and considered for a moment the desire to bite free the tiny slip of flesh that was the ordering of the Mistress. The control within control. Eyes narrowed and slitted. Not yet, for one that could slake her growing thirst had yet to be found. With the ease of long practice she drew her victim up and down the scales, long past the release of normal orgasm until she knew that Mistress inner thigh muscles were an agony of fire from the constant spasms. The energy had become mere trickle, bitter match to the rivulets of blood washing her own back. She retracted the evidence of her feed, pulling the familiar mask firmly across her eyes that Mistress or Master may not view her truth. Mistress shoved the used slave aside, dropping the bloody whip across a chest with tiny almost boyish breasts. She rose and stumbled toward the bed she shared with Master, barely able to stand. The sweet scent of her own release offered its reminder from the still wet smears on the inside of her thighs. She fell across the foot of the bed, slave forgotten. Master frowned at the exhaustion of Mistress. Gluttonous bitch! What of his needs? His eyes turned to where the slave was drawing the blood stained whip through her mouth. He could see the rawness of her back, the mixture of blood and sweat, he longed to press his chest against the furrows while thrusting himself inside her. His frown deepened. It seemed un-natural this need that had consumed him from the moment she had appeared to kneel at the feet of Mistress. The beast watched Master from the corners of her eyes, he was close to the edge. She could sense his anger laced desires. Her mouth closed around the bitterness of her blood, her cheeks drew inward to suck, awareness of his eyes upon her mouth, the hardness of his pitiful cock barely hidden inside his pants. "Cage slave!" His voice snarled. The beast swung around, every movement as carefully calculated and choreographed as the most elaborate ballet. Her craft, her muse, her personal magic. The offering of breast, the illusive whisper of whip where it snaked around the taut body. Every movement the erotic enticement of the damned. She elected to crawl toward the dog cage where they kept her safe from them. Lips lifted at the irony of such truths. Their feral kitten began her slink across the floor, feeling Master's eyes probing the dark beckoning hole of her ass, the puckered posie that wiggled and dipped with each movement that was the slippery hell of her pussy. So open, so wet, so evilly inviting. The cage was kept in the kitchen of the house, an old rug its matted floor, a dog food bowl her priceless porcelain feeding dish, a drip slot for her to suck fluids. She rounded the corner allowing her legs to open even further so that his last view would be the express offering of either hole. Her lips lifted again in the smile that was more that of predator than prey. The floor was cold against her palms and hard under her knees. She eyed the small enclosure that had once housed his favorite dog. Her slow progress continued. The slightest sound behind her warned of the observer. Her grin of victory mocked. She lowered her torso to enter the tiny cage. Fingers rammed inside her ass and cunt to hold her like a bowling ball. She froze. Behind her there was a fumbling, the zip. "Slut bitch!" He hissed against her ear. In some twisted moment he had agreed to resist using her, listened to the pleas and explanations of Mistress about how foully the slave had been treated prior. Then to watch in growing torment as the fuck cunt had teased him. He had enough to sense her manipulation, the fury it had driven within him made him desire to beat her senseless, to offer her body to any man willing to hurt her. He shoved her head down onto the floor, snapping a ring lock into place to hold her there. He reached up to grab a dishcloth which he knotted and shoved into her mouth, pulling it back to tie tightly. He would make her scream. He dropped to his knees and used his fingers to spread open the boyish tightness of her tiny ass. His cock throbbed, he pressed it against the tiny dark spot then reached under her body to grip her shoulders. With a long hard thrust he drove himself deep into her. Her screams into the dishtowel drove him faster and harder, knowing the agony of such usage. With every pump he muttered... "slut... slave... cunt... bitch... whore... trash... slut...", the litany echoing against the hard surfaces of the kitchen. Her blood began to cling to his chest hair, his fury of intensity accelerated until he was driving her small body hard against the collar restraining her. He felt her anus muscles contract, the control shift, she began to milk him. He wanted to stop the travesty, thrust her from him like the refuse she was. His body refused, succumbing to the draining of a vampire. He released his seed. It sloshed to mix with degraded food and excrement. The beast held him within her with muscles long trained to the dance, forcing the surrender of every drop of energy. Draining, using, destroying. He sagged across her back, numb. Her head tilted back, fingers lifting to release the gag that betrayed her laughter. She heard him moan and mumble and knew well that in that time where his body could refill the envelope he would try to destroy her, for inside him he tasted her truth. She released the clip that held her collar down, felt his withered cock slip out of her dark recesses. She stared down at him where he curled nearly comatose half in and half out of his own cage. Her laughter drifted deep within his dreams. She gathered the key to her collared lock, pulled a loose turtleneck over her ribboned body, jeans across the seeping ruptures of her ass. Without a final look she stepped away into the darkness to find a better meal.   This webpage is owned by F.R.R. Mallory - also known as Mistress Steel, including all content and logos. This webpage has been redesigned to be easy to read. The information on this page is designed to inform and entertain, it is not meant to offer professional or legal advice. The content of this webpage may be excerpted from other books by F.R.R. Mallory, all the content is copyright protected under United States and International Copyright Law. Please click on the book title for information on how you can order a copy of these books and others by F.R.R. Mallory. For limited release, re-posting, web-sharing information regarding any of the articles or stories on this website, please email SteelBfl@sonic.net. 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