The Battered Lamp Ch. 14

"Kittens don't talk." Rachel reached around and slapped her ass, the cheeks jiggling.

"Meow."

"Oh, that's delightful," cooed Aaliyah. "I need to make Teleisia do that."

"Oh, yeah," groaned Kyle.

He had a flash of his wife's Black concubine on her knees meowing as she licked at Aaliyah's pussy. His cock ached harder. He needed more than his wife's hand. He pulled his hand out of her pussy and yanked her jeans down. Aaliyah lifted her hips, wiggling to help him work the skinny jeans and panties down her thighs, exposing that beautiful pussy he loved.

She kicked them off, lying back on the couch, Kyle pushing his jeans and boxers down as he settled in between their thighs. They were both watching the new lesbian Domme playing with her kitten. Hannah worked Rachel's buttons as fast as her own, and Rachel's blouse soon joined Hannah's, then her bra, revealing a pair of smaller, though just as lovely, breasts.

Hannah darted in and, meowing, gave a playful lick at Rachel's right nipple. "Oh, you wonderful kitten."

"Meow!" Hannah's tongue swiped again, circling the left nipple, then sucking the nub into her lips.

Kyle buried into Aaliyah's dripping pussy. They both groaned as he sank into her, humping their hips together. Kyle rested his cheek on Aaliyah's, fucking his wife as they watched Hannah kneel, tugging Rachel's skirt off her hips then the lacy thong she had concealed beneath her conservative skirt.

"All kitten's need their cream," purred Rachel, guiding her submissive to her dripping pussy.

"Meeeoooow!" hissed Hannah before burying her face into Rachel's smoothly shaved twat. Kyle just caught flashes of pink tongue disappearing into dark-pink flesh.

"Yes," groaned Rachel, grabbing a handful of her slave's brunette curls and forcing her face deeper into her pussy, humping her hips. "Eat me, kitten. Lap up every last drop of my special cream."

Hannah's meow was muffled by Rachel's hot cunt.

The couch rocked as Kyle pounded Aaliyah's cunt harder, their flesh slapping together. His genie's fingernails clawed his back as she gasped and moaned. Rachel's breasts heaved as her body shook from Hannah's ministrations, those perky breasts bouncing and dancing as her hips rode her kitten's hungry mouth.

"Shit," Kyle grunted. "Fuck that slut, Rachel! Make her eat every drop of your pussy."

"She's such a naughty kitten," gasped Aaliyah.

Kyle noticed movement at the kitchen. Alexina's blonde hair streaked with pink, was just peeking around the corner followed by Carla's face. He smiled at his concubines. More began filling the doorway, watching the show, fidgeting their hips and stroking each other's bodies.

He beckoned them, and his seven concubines spilled in, Ms. Capello at the center, joined by his wives' concubines: Teleisia, Ann, and Kayleah. Clothes were stripped off and hands were groping feminine flesh. Kyle's eyes flickered from his naked concubines to the lesbian Domme and her kitten. He pounded his wife's cunt, his balls about to boil over and froth his wife with his jizz. Lois had Shannon licking her pussy while Chyna, Shannon's daughter, ate out Lois's ass. Ms. Capello scooped up Ann and Kayleah, bringing them to her heavy breasts to suckle while Carla and Teleisia scissored their pussies together, ivory and ebony flesh heaving together.

"Eat me," hissed Rachel. "You better make me cum, kitten, or I'll swat your backside with a newspaper!"

"Do it anyways," called out Toni, Kyle's cheerleader concubine. Her red hair fell about her naked shoulders as Alexina munched on her ass. The blonde concubine worshiped Toni with eager delight.

"You hear that, kitten! When we get home, I'm going to have to spank you! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Meow!"

"I thought so! Oh, Lord. Get ready! You're about to get a huge load of fresh cream."

Rachel's ass clenched as her orgasm crashed through her. She kept Hannah's face pressed into her pussy as she unleashed a tide of pussy cream. And her kitten drank every drop, licking and sucking loudly, and moaning as she accepted her reward.

"Oh, that's beautiful," gasped Aaliyah. "Oh, Kyle, my love. That was wonderful."

His wife gave a squeal, then writhed beneath him. Her pussy clenched and relaxed about his cock, burning his dick with her passion. He drove into her, his balls about to unleash his cum. He drew back and slammed in, hard, fast, plunging towards the cliff. He just needed a few more strokes into her delicious cunt.

"Aaliyah!"

His cum exploded into her.

He groaned and shuddered, burying his cock into her depths. His pleasure erupted out in squirt after squirt that flooded his body with powerful rapture and left him gasping for breath. He collapsed on his wife, burying his face into her hair.

"Way to go, Master," cheered Toni.

"That was so hot," laughed Alexina, pulling away from Toni's cute rear.

"Mmm, it was," purred Lois as she ground on Shannon's and Chyna's mouths, using mother and daughter for her pleasure. "Maybe I could borrow your kitten?"

Lois, his newest concubine, had been working her way through all the others concubines since yesterday, enjoying their mouths on her pussy. Kyle was a man of his word, and she loved having unfettered access to all his women. She was a Domme that submitted to him.

"Wow," Rachel gasped, suddenly self-conscious and Hannah let out a frightened meow her entire body flushing with embarrassment. "What is this place?"

"Home," Kyle answered, pulling out of Aaliyah's pussy and his phone tumbled out of his pants pocket. He scooped it up. "This is my family." He swiped off the screen saver. His phone was still open on the phone book. Christy's number was ready to be dialed.

She's my family as well.

He pressed dial as the missionaries dressed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Spiritual Realm

Christy wasn't sure how long she had been walking through the Spirit Realm. It was strange and ethereal, everything shifting and changing the moment her eyes looked away. All the colors were vibrant, bleeding together in a clash of oranges, greens, purples, red, blues, and yellows. The only thing that seemed solid was the rainbow path she trod upon--Iris.

The daughter of Ishtar had transformed into the path she walked upon, leading her through the strange landscape towards the place where she would be washed clean by the Goddess and have her oath to Hecate undone and set her free from Erinyes stalking behind her.

Eyes were upon her.

She glanced over her back, but couldn't see anything than the shifting landscape. She frowned. What it her imagination? Or was she really being stalked. Was it Erinyes? Fear bubbled inside her. She didn't want to face Hecate's daughter. Erinyes was the embodiment of vengeance.

She cannot touch you so long as you walk my path, Iris whispered in her mind. You are safe on my path.

Christy nodded, taking a calming breath. She could feel Iris's love bleeding through the soles of her shoes, a warmth that soothed her. She gazed down the path and the endless, changing landscape, and kept on walking.

Music blared. Katy Perry's Teenage Drama, her favorite song, echoed through the surreal Spiritual Realm. Christ jumped, her hand shooting into her pocket where her cell phone was vibrating. "How am I getting a call here?" she muttered in surprise, pulling her phone out.

Kyle's name was displayed on the caller ID.

Pain shot through her heart at the sight of her boyfriend's name. Her hand shook as she swiped her screen. "Hello?"

"...ey, Chri... .................le."

She could barely make out anything through the hissing static. It was the worst connection she had ever heard. "Kyle," she shouted.

"...know things....end well............I need...............you ever............eyes...........I still..."

"Kyle, can you hear me?"

He can't, Iris whispered. He's leaving a message. A voice mail.

"You.............bad decision...........................permanent. You came.......................us save Aali....................have made..............ions, but then................od one." Christy listened, even if she could only hear a few snatches of his voice as tears ran down her cheek. "....right one............your he...............ima is under....................don't kno.................You made..............................can only...........you'll................right decision..................you. Come back..................you can't help................come................you."

The message ended.

"Does he still care about me? Or does he hate me?" she asked Iris.

I do not know. But the road is long. You still have far to travel.

Christy wiped at her cheeks, sniffing, and continued walking down the path. A flicker of hope kindled in her heart. Kyle cared enough to call. Maybe it isn't over between us. Her steps felt a little lighter.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

South Hill, WA

"She landed in Hokkaido this morning," Dean Burke, the Ifrit's new master, said as he unhooked her whipped body.

Every part of Zaritha hurt. He had sorely used her. His filthy seed dripped out of her pussy and ass. He removed the first nipple camp. She screamed in pain as the blood flowed back into her numb, sensitive nub. He chuckled, then plucked the other one. The pain was worse than the whipping, even worse than when he first put on the clamp.

"You should get going," he grinned, pinching her abused nipple. "I want her dead, and I want the artifact she carries in my hands."

"Yes, Master," she sobbed, the bracers on her wrists wouldn't allow her to give any other answer.

"Then go!"

She stumbled up the stairs. A hatred so deep and black filled her. She hated her new Master for all the torments he had inflicted on her, hated Aaliyah for surviving and landing her in this mess, hated Fumi for walking free in Japan.

And she hated herself.

Zaritha had always thought she was strong, powerful, able to withstand any pain. How wrong she was. Burke had used her in ways she hadn't even dreamed of. He took delight in every cry of pain he extracted from her flesh, reveling in her humiliation and torment. The louder she had cried, the harder he had fucked her. His stamina was inhuman. She had lost counts how many times he had spilled his seed in her holes. Soiling her.

She needed to be pure fire.

The moment she was out his house, she turned into a pillar of flames, burning away his foul seed, the pain and humiliation vanishing as she became her true essence. She streaked across the sky, blazing like a comet. The Pacific Ocean streaked beneath her as the air roared past her.

She almost felt free, but even composed of flames, she could still feel her slave bracers chaining her to Burke's will, almost dragging her across the sea to Hokkaido. To the little bitch. Her flames burned even hotter. She would consume Fumi, Aaliyah, and Kyle. And all his concubines. She would reduce them all to ash for their role in her humiliation.

And when she was freed, Burke would know her anger.

As fast as she flew, it still was hours crossing the Pacific, and her anger slowly cooled. Fumi had an artifact. She would not be helpless. Burke clearly feared to move openly against Kyle for this reason. The grand treasures of the Jann, the four elemental weapons, must have been bestowed to Kyle as part of Aaliyah's dowry.

She would need all her cunning to deal with the little bitch.

Zaritha materialized inside a bathroom stall in New Chitose Airport in Sapporo, Hokkaido. She assumed the form of a beguiling, Japanese girl dressed in a traditional, schoolgirl outfit: white blouse tucked into plaid skirt with loose, knee high socks.

She stepped out face to face with a man. White. Tall. Dark. He had a passing resemblance to Burke. Her anger flared hot. "You," she hissed, her hand shooting out to squeeze his neck. So what if he wasn't Burke--he was a man.

"Help," he screamed, his limbs thrashing. "Someone, help!"

"Honey?" a woman called from outside.

"J-Jan," croaked the man. "Hel--"

Zaritha squeezed harder. No one made her feel weak and vulnerable. No one hurt her. She was Zaritha. The chief enforcer of the Marid Sultan. She was strong. Powerful. Her fingers were hot steel, choking the life out of him. This man would die. He needed to pay.

Her fingers were forced back, the man gasping for breath.

Rules stronger than steel governed the Djinn. She could not directly kill a mortal unless it was in self-defense.

"Honey?" the restroom doors opened and a beautiful woman, blonde, curly hair, walked in, then gasped at the sight. "Help!"

Zaritha became flame, flowing around the woman, blazing in front of the door, trapping the pair. The woman backed away in fear, her husband grabbing her, thrusting her behind him. Zaritha's anger threatened to overwhelm her. That woman was so weak, fearful and cowering behind her husband. Heat burned inside her, aching her nethers. This woman should be punished. She was weak.

Not me! I'm not weak like her.

Both the husband and wife deserved to be punished.

I am not weak! I do not cower!

She became flesh, rushing over and grasping the man's head. Her fire burned into his brain, driving back his will to cower in the recesses of his mind. Her fires controlled the man now, guiding his body to her will.

Zaritha slipped a hand beneath her skirt, rubbing her fiery pussy as the woman begged for mercy from her husband. He didn't give her any. Just like Burke. Zaritha's climax was hot and fast, accompanied by the woman's screams.

She couldn't directly kill a mortal.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hokkaido, Japan

Fumi walked down the road, holding her thumb out at the passing cars. Hokkaido was as cold as she remembered it, snow piled on the shoulders making walking most unpleasant. Her last ride had brought her ten kilometers from Sapporo, but she had farther to go. She so wished the clerk at the car rental was a man.

"I could have weaseled a car for a blowjob," she muttered to herself. Even with her supernatural resistance to the cold, she was feeling it every time a car barreled by. "Why won't anyone stop? I'm a cute, schoolgirl! Where are all the perverts at?"

A large truck barreled by, her coat flapping around her at she could feel the whipped up snow wetting the back of her pants. Dirty, gray snow that you see on the sides of road. She adjusted her backpack, sighing in frustration.

"Not even the truckers want a piece of me," she moaned.

A beat-up, old Toyota pick-up truck screeched to a halt, a rough looking man, his graying hair standing out against his dark-tan skin, peered at her through his passenger window. He leaned over, rolling it down.

"Where are you headed?"

"Kamifurano," Fumi answered. "I need to get to Mount Asashi." That's where the Yukishojou-no-onsen lay, the hot spring that the spirit Nisqualmie had sent her to. Fumi hoped that the springs would somehow allow her and Kyle to be fully intimate without her love dieing in her embrace.

"I can take you as far as Shikauchi."

Her face fell. That's only halfway there, if I'm remembering this part of Hokkaido right. Fumi eyed him. He was old, but still in great shape. A farmer, she bet, still with his strength, not some flabby, Tokyo businessman. Her hungers stirred. It had been a few hours since she ingested cum.

"How about I blow you and you take me all the way?"

His eyes widened slightly then they ran up and down her. "My wife will be wondering what took so long. I'll still take you as far as Shikauchi though."

Her hunger grew more insistent and she could smell her lily-scented lust through the layers of clothing she wore, filling the air with her pheromones. She moved closer to the window, letting him get a deep whiff.

"Are you sure you can't take me?"

He swallowed, his hands squeezing the steering wheel. "I can't," he groaned. "Maybe this was a mistake. My wife will..."

Fumi's hungers were not about to be denied. "You can fuck my ass."

He swallowed. "Tokyo girl," he groaned. "Compensation dating?"

"Sure," Fumi smiled. She had made some money the six months she had lived in Tokyo dating businessmen--that had been after Shiro had died and her family had moved from Hokkaido. The perverts in Tokyo loved to pay young women to "date" them. And they loved her blowjobs. "What do you say, farmer-san?"

"Yushiro," he said.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Yushiro-san. I'm Fumi."

"Well, Fumi-tan, where should we...?"

"Right here," she smiled. "Come and get me."

He swallowed, licking his lips. His cock tented his worn denims. She leaned on the hood of his truck, delighting in the engine's warmth. The door creaked open, the truck rocking as he climbed out. A car zipped by and he jumped. Fumi shot him a winsome smile, fluttering her eyelashes, and he forgot all about the passing cars as he walked around, his hands unzipping his pants.

"You Tokyo girls are all sluts," he hissed in her ear. "Not like a good, Hokkaido girl."

Fumi wanted to laugh and tell him that Hokkaido was exactly where she was from. But his hands were strong as they squeezed her ass and she moaned. He ripped her thick pants down, the air cold on her suddenly exposed flesh and she gasped.

"A slut's underwear," he groaned, ripping her lacy panties down, then those strong, calloused hands stroked her ass, squeezing each cheek. She felt so helpless before his strength, burning to feel him enter her and give her the cum she craved.

"Fuck my ass, Yushiro-san!"

She gasped as he drove his cock into her bowels, pressing her hard into his truck, the corner biting into her stomach. He was rough, not caring if he hurt her, but her ass generated its own lube, like a pussy, and he pumped in her smoothly. His cock felt so wonderful. Short and thick, pleasure spilling through her with every stroke.

His thrusts were hard stabs, burying in her, then slowly pulling back before jamming back in. She gasped and moaned as his brutal strokes ignited nerves inside her. His strong hand slid down her back to her neck, pressing her face into the hood as he used her.

"Whore," he grunted. "Take it, whore."

"Yes," she gasped. She was a whore. And she loved it. Kyle would always be first in her heart, but no man would ever provide her with all the cum she needed. Like her mother, she'd find other man to blow or fuck her ass. It was just sex. "Cum in me. Give it to me. I need it!"

His thrusts grew faster, still just as hard, but his hips built up steam, his pick-up truck shaking with the violence of his thrusts. Pleasure screamed through her as his precum leaked into her ass, the appetizer to his main course. She squeezed when he pulled back, bringing a groan from his lips. She wanted him to spill his seed as soon as possible.

She needed it.

His fingers squeezed the back of her neck, bruising her flesh as his grunts grew more animalistic. His thrust slowed, but were still brutal, rocking the car every time he buried into her. His pounded into her, burying his cock into her and warmth flooded her.

She came at the first touch of his cum on her flesh. Her ass absorbed his energy. Passion surged through her. She writhed beneath his strong grip, moaning and gasping her pleasure. This is what she needed. It was so much better than absorbing cum in a blowjob. It was almost the proper way. He drew back, slamming in again, another jet of life-giving energy filled her.

They stayed locked in place, both panting as their passions faded. Fumi had a smile on her lip, savoring the energy he had fed her. His hand loosened on her neck, stroking down her back. A car drove by, horn honking, and he jumped, realizing what he had down.

"Pull your pants up, Fumi-tan," he grunted, pulling his softening cock out of her and buckling his jeans up. "We should get out of here."