Sojourn’s End, Chapter 6. A Painful End
“What I want to do to Messalina, is…” I spoke loud enough for all there to hear.
“Give her a Public, over the knee, bare bottom,” I grinned triumphantly.
Aeshma, my Succubus personal assistant, gaped incredulously at me in response.
“I fail to see how a spanking is supposed to induce an orgasm!” Messalina cried loudly enough to echo through her ballroom.
“Patience,” I replied, “You will have time to find out, in the end.” I quipped. The gathering crowd of monsters and demons, hesitated at first and then one of them moaned in mock agony. There then began a chorus of titters, giggles, and chuckles, all of them directed at Messalina’s expense. Of whom, was now standing nearby with her fists clenched angrily, glaring fiercely at me, spade ended tail lashing wildly. That tail of hers threatened to lash what little clothing she wore, off of her entirely.
I motioned to one of Messalina’s servants to come over to me. The one who chose to do so, appeared to be a smaller, younger looking version of Messalina. Instead of head horns, she sprouted what appeared to be an additional set of wings from her forehead. Amazingly, she somehow managed to wear even less clothing than her mistress.
“What is your name my Dear?” I asked her.
“Lubrique, Milord”, she said huskily, curtseying.
“If you would be so kind, Lubrique,” I asked her politely. She smiled a snaggle-toothed grin at me in response. “Please go and fetch me a pair of solid wooden chairs, and a full length looking glass.” This youngish Hob-demon seemed amazed that I would treat her nicely.
“Will that be all, milord?” She simpered.
‘Towels, Primus! (2)’ Secundus prompted.
I tapped myself on my head, “Some towels as well, please.” I smiled. She smiled back as she curtsied once more, and went off to retrieve the requested items, ignoring the glares directed towards her from her employer.
She shortly returned with the requested items. The chairs I placed close side by side, with the Looking Glass at a 30-degree angle upwards and away from the chairs.
Preparations made, I strode over to Messalina, who by now was standing and frowning with her arms crossed, watching my every move.
I began, with pointing a finger in her face.
“YOU!” I said to her, loudly and clearly enough for everyone in the silent ballroom to hear.
“Have been a very naughty, young, er…Demon!” I hesitated for a second. “And you NEED to be punished!” I spoke in my best Head Teacher voice.
‘Say it Primus! (2)’
‘No, I will not, say ‘it’. (1)’
‘Please Primus! PleasePleasePleasePleasePleasePleasePleasePlease PleasePlease! (2)’
I sigh mentally at his nagging.
‘Setlle down, Secundus, I will say ‘it’. (1)’ He stopped. I felt his eagerness through our link.
“Messalina,” I said sternly. “This is,” I pause as I steel myself, “going to hurt me more, than it will you!”
‘Great Maker I feel like a bath now.’ I thought to no one in particular.
I turned around, and sat down upon one of the chairs, and then placed one of the towels on my lap. I had a feeling I was going to need it. I looked meaningfully at Messalina, and patted my lap.
She replied with an indignant look, then she looked all around her at the watched crowd of monsters and demons in attendance. According to Aeshma, just about every single one of them had been humiliated or belittled by her before. Now, they were waiting hungrily for the show; like a pack of wolves circling around an injured lamb.
She refused to approach.
“If you do not come over, Messalina, I shall assume that you wish to withdraw your status as ‘prize’.”
That got her. She snapped her head around to glare at me with the intensity of ten thousand black suns, her golden hair flying about. After several seconds, her over-weaning Demonic Pride won out. She slowly, but surely, sashayed her way over to where I sat.
“Now bend over my dear, here, give me your hand so that I may guide you.” Reluctantly she did so, giving me a strong painful squeeze far in excess of what was needed, which I chose to ignore.
I could not help but enjoy the moment. A Demon, obeying me! HA!
After a few wigglings on her part, and more than a few false starts, I finally had her solid frame firmly situated upon my lap. She lay face down, pelvis upon my legs, wings held tight against her back, her arms holding herself against the other chair to support her upper body. I motioned to Lubrique to have her position the looking glass so that I had a good view of Messalina’s face. Unbeknownst to her, I would need it to gauge her reactions. Then a thought occurred to me.
“Oh, Lubrique, perchance does your Mistress have any hairbrushes?” I inquired with a raised eyebrow. She looked at me confusedly, then nodded.
“Go and fetch one, if you would. One of those brushes with a flat surface on one side, with no bristles therein. Off you go!” I watched Messalina glare daggers at her servant as she hurried to procure one.
I had a grand view of her geometric posterior through the black silk of her dress. Gently, yet firmly, I tugged at her skirt until I drew the hem up to expose her callipygian buttocks for all to see. I took a moment to appreciate this panoramic sight. I had to admit, that she did have a rather scrumptious pair. Reluctantly, I set aside my prurient interests to perform the task at hand.
Naturally, she wore no undergarments. Judging by some of the other Demon-Ladies in attendance, such a garment would have proven difficult to remove, particularly over her tail.
Just then, Lubrique returned with one of her mistresses’ hairbrushes. It was perfect for what I had in mind, and told her so. “Good choice, thank you my dear.” She beamed with my praise.
So, I took the brush and made a grand show of gently tapping Messalina’s posterior with it. I then stuck it in my tunic’s chest pocket, to keep it handy. I suspected that Demon hide might prove to be thicker and more difficult to make an impression upon, than a mortal woman’s skin.
Carefully, I spread out my left hand and placed it upon her dorsal sacral portion of her pelvis, positioning my thumb along the base of her tail. I did this for three reasons.
The first, was to intercept her lashing tail from ‘accidentally’ blocking any of my slaps.
The second, was because it would allow me to control her body. If she shifted herself away from my striking hand, I could shift her back into place with my left.
The third, and most important, reason was to protect her spine and nerve roots that existed between her Iliac crest and her tail base. (Any spanker will instinctively not hit their own body parts; preventing any damage to the vulnerable spot in the small of the back of the target.)
With my right hand I began to caress Messalina’s posterior. Immediately I feel her tense up and try to avoid my touch. This was to be expected. With every woman’s first Proper Spanking; she will instinctively react in this manner. After all, they are expecting an immediate slap.
That, will come later.
Peering into the Looking Glass, I see Messalina looking around, confused. I keep one eye on her expression as I continue to caress her (rather nice feeling) posterior. After a few seconds, I see it: boredom, that is my cue!
Quickly, I raise my right hand and make it as flat as I can. Four fingers together, thumb extended and out of the way. I aim for the middle of her right-hand buttock and give her a good solid thump, whiplash style, impacting with her skin with my digital and middle phalanxes.
The look of utter surprise, as she gapes her mouth wide in shock, was worth the wait. As opposed to caressing, I start patting her lightly with my four fingers. I observe an annoyed look on her face now, as she thinks I am just toying with her. I am, but that look means that I can step up the impacts another notch. When I do, I can see that she is starting to wince slightly now and again.
‘Initial Level achieved.’ I congratulate myself.
‘Primus! Let me take control of the Hand! (2)’ I am all set to deny him when…
‘I PROMISE to be good! (2)’ He begs.
‘Do not make any promises I cannot keep, Secundus. (1)’ I mentally growl at him, but I give him control. He is profuse in his thanks.
With that, I (Secundus) start varying the location of the impact point of my hand to all around her buttocks. Why? To desensitize her to them, and the results are good- she stops tensing her buttocks after a couple of minutes.
‘This operation is proceeding smoothly.’ I observe.
All around her indigo colored gluteus maximi I go. After a minute, I start making every fourth whack a particularly large one. One, two, three, FOUR! One, two, three, FOUR! Once more, I see a look of surprise on her face.
But then, I also see something else in her eyes. I hide my smile when I see it: they are starting to dilate. A few seconds more, and I see her open her mouth and start to pant through it ever so softly! In an instant, I scent her genitals emitting the Demonic equivalent of Love Honey (Brimstone and Treacle), starting to saturate and overflow her loins.
She has stopped flinching again, so I step it up again: One, TWO!, three, FOUR! One, TWO!, Three, FOUR! As before, her eyes open in surprise, but not for long.
‘Ah, there we go!’ Her eyes are starting to roll back into her head.
I commence a full impact for all of my slaps. I continue all around her buttocks, but I also aim to start concentrating more of my slaps around the intersection of her natal cleft and her gluteal folds. She barely notices the change.
‘She has ceased flinching. She will soon be Presenting. (2)’ Secundus predicts.
Glancing over to the mirror I see her biting her lower lip, so I increase the tempo of my slaps. I notice then that my hand is starting to Sting-unbearably. Pausing momentarily, I switch over to my secret weapon: Her hairbrush.
Bristle side up, I hold the handle and use the back of the brush to continue my assault upon her fundament.
‘She does not notice the switch! Excellent (2)’
Once again, I step up the impact rate just a bit more, and that is when I hear it: Her first breathless moan. The demons around me, who had been sniggering and making off-hand comments all the while, go silent in wonder at what they hear before them.
Oh! What is this? That sneaky minx! She has wrapped her tail around her torso and is pleasuring herself with it. I immediately stop.
I grab her tail roughly and yell, “What is the meaning of this Messalina!?” She gives off a loud cry of frustrated anguish.
“Please,” she begins. But I will have none of it!
“Silence, Young Lady! This is supposed to be a punishment!” With that, I swiftly wrap her tail around my left arm. That should do it! What’s this? She’s moving her hands down to her sex.
“And return your hands back where they were!” Again, I see a look of frustrated anguish cross her countenance; but, she reluctantly complies. I start to feel sorry for her until I glance up at the demons she tormented.
OH! I cannot believe how much fun I am having in this moment! It has been too long since I had a submissive woman under my control! Such a heady feeling, it is! Control- given freely.
I take up the hairbrush again and recommence. A few seconds later, she is moaning again, louder, longer. She starts to squirm all over my lap. Every time she moves, I position her back with my left hand.
Oh? What is this? It has begun: She is Presenting!
This is the point where she is pushing her feet down on the floor in an effort to lift her buttocks in tune, to meet my downward swinging hairbrush. It also means that her natal cleft is opening up, allowing a greater surface area for the hairbrush to assault. Which, I take full advantage of!
The results are dramatic! Her moans shift into pre-orgasmic half screams, as she starts to pant and growl furiously! Her tail is tightening itself around my arm tremendously. Thus, I allow my what little hairbrush restraint I have to evaporate, and I commence swinging furiously!
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! A rapid tempo echoes through the air of the room. It is combined with gasps of wonder emanating from the surrounding crowd of Mamono.
I see that Messalina has now gripped the chair legs before her as she arches her back, in preparation for the final peak of her inevitable ecstasy!
In a deafening howl worthy of a dozen Banshees, her demanded orgasm begins. My left arm has gone numb, due to her tail gripping me so hard!
But I do not let up with my spankings, oh no! Instead I pick up the pace even more and harder! In the looking glass I see her eye’s irises flare like a pair of stars going Nova in the inky blackness of space.
Her Orgasm has peaked!
With a loud crunching sound of tearing wood, she tears apart the chair she had been holding fiercely onto, and throws her arms to the ground, still holding onto the chair legs. Her wings spasm and her tail pulsates in sync during her ecstasy!
Oh, the way she quivers in her prolonged orgasm is such a sweet sight to my ancient eyes.
And that is when I stop my spanking. Instead, I cup one of her buttocks as I let the hairbrush fall to the ground unheeded, its service done.
In the mirror, I see her face, eyes closed, mouth agape, head tilted back. She is in ‘The Moment’: That prolonged afterglow of non-existence that occurs after a proper spanking.
When her eyes open I know it is time: I gently raise her, and turn her about to have her sit upon my legs. Instinctively, she cuddles her head against my chest as I wrap my arms around her. I have to be careful now, I notice that her head horns are sharper and more jagged than I thought. She leans into me, muttering nonsensical words in between pants. One of her claw laden hands clutches at my tunic.
But nothing untoward happens. In the utterly silent hall of Demons and Mamono, they all look as if they’ve seen a miracle. After a few more seconds Messalina lifts her head and LOOKS at me with wonder in her darkened eyes. I speak to her then.
“Now then, young lady.” I admonish her gently, yet sternly. “I expect you to be better behaved with your guests in the future.” She continues to look at me for a second more, then she slowly nods her head unspeaking, mouth parted just so. After, she leans her head onto my shoulder, and tarries there for a while. I notice then that she brought one of her wings around and wrapped it around my back. Strangely enough, I was comfortable with it.
Later, after she had departed to her rooms to recover, I discover that Secundus’ suggestion of towels had been a good idea. It turns out that not only was Messalina a squirter, she had had an ample capacity as well!
Luckily, that towel on my lap was sufficiently absorbent. After having a servant take it away, I decided that I too, should ‘freshen up’.
While I was washing my hands, and facing myself in the mirror, I had an epiphany.
That was fun!
Here, now, had been an untenable situation in which I had been placed, and it had been solved without the use of offensive spell-work. ‘A good time was had by all.’ I quoted to myself, wondering at the circumstances.
But even with that epiphany, I realized then, that I was overlooking something else. Something intrinsic. Something important. Something vital. Slowly, I examined my actions and my feelings towards them. It was there in front of me, hidden in plain sight.
I forced myself to face it. Then, it became as plain as the nose on one of my not-brother’s face. I had ENJOYED dominating Messalina! Not just because I had successfully turned the table on her. But, also because of the sexual nature of it. I realized that she had acted not like a Demon would have. Instead, she had acted like a human woman.
I had reacted like a human man with a human woman. I yearned for more of the snuggle-warmth that Messalina had radiated into me. I missed the sight of her orgasmic paroxysm, the scent of her genital lubricant. The feel of her wing around me. The way her claws had clutched at me. I wanted to feel them all again.
‘I defused a potentially terrible situation, by embracing my sexuality.’ It was humiliating to admit it. But it was the truth. A hard truth for me to face, but the truth nonetheless.
Much as I derided my makers, the Lords of Law, I still acted as if I were amongst them. I still felt that I needed to live up to their impossible standards. Particularly, when it came to sex.
Every Annwyfn ever created was human, an enhanced human- yes. But, still human, and everything that such entailed, such as our sexuality. We had all been taught that such a thing was an inherent vileness that we needed to work to overcome.
And I, like so many of my fellows, when taught how to create our ‘not’-brothers, had chosen to transfer most, if not all, of our sexuality into our first secondary personality. In my case, it was the one I called: Secundus. All these centuries I had been disparaging him for his/my sexuality, treating him unfairly. I owed him an apology.
‘Apology Accepted. (2)’ he thought back to me.
I felt so small then. Is this what Annwyfn Anand felt like, when she disastrously relinquished control to one of her secondary personalities?
‘Quite possibly, Primus. (5)’ Quintus interjected.
‘I am sorry that it took so long for you to realize. The rest of us have been trying to get you to face it for some time now. (4)’ Quartus added.
‘It is indeed good to see you mature in this manner, Primus. It is long overdue. (3)’
‘Oh my! Tertius? The most restrained of my not-brothers interjecting? What has this multiverse come to! (1)’
‘You realize Primus, that by embracing your sexuality, you may very well have another, more effective, yet less lethal, option in dealing with the Mamono. (2)’
‘What do you mean Secundus? (1)’
‘What I mean, Primus. Is that not all of the Mamono you will encounter, will be interested in a husband. Even for those that do, their choice of ‘weapon’ is their sexuality. (2)’ This information stunned me!
‘Fight fire with fire. (1)’ I concluded.
‘Precisely. Look at Messalina. (2)’ he finished, with no small amount of smugness.
He had given me much to contemplate.
After finishing up in the guest bathroom, I was intercepted by another, unescorted demon lady who wished to speak with me.
“Yes, milady. How may I be of assistance?” I politely asked.
She lifted up the hem of her skirt with one hand, “I’ve been a naughty demon, too.” She said, looking at me with a hopeful smile. “And I need to be punished.”
This was stunning. I had not expected, this!
‘This is going to be a long night.’ I sighed heavily. My mind echoed with Secundus’ chortling.
I was more correct than I expected. After Messalina, I ended up attending to’ six more ‘naughty’ demon ladies, including that adult-looking Baphomet. She, Mastema, was quite the sassy one, insisting that I repeat my performance with her at least three additional times.
After them, I ended up teaching an impromptu Spanking Class for the Incubi whose bad-lady-wives desired their edification. For those with claws I recommended that they use a hairbrush, as opposed to their hands.
On the ride back to my apartment, Aeshma was strangely silent. I tried several times to engage her in some form of conversation, but she seemed preoccupied with something. She did not seem to be disgusted with me, yet whenever I was not looking in her direction I could see that she just stared at me agog. When I asked her if I had acquitted myself well, she simply nodded her head.
After seeing me to my door, she hesitated. I waited for her to say something, until finally, she mustered up her courage and said what had been on her mind all the while.
“Would you,” she whispered, not looking at me. “Be willing to teach my husband how to do that?” She departed happily when I replied in the affirmative; time and date to be determined later.
There was no sign of Afrodille, being late as I was. But then I froze! There was something off in the apartment. I looked around the gloomy apartment, and everything seemed to be in its place. My shield, the furniture, everything, including my new collection of books. I wanted to turn the light up, now that it could be adjusted up beyond ‘ambient’. But I dared not!
Then it hit me! Belphegor! I could smell her scent! There was no mistaking that semi-caprine smell. She had been in my apartment not long ago!
‘Approximately 2 hours ago. (5)’ Quintus surmised. I continued to look around the room.
‘Most of her scent appears to be concentrated near the door, the table in fact. (5)’ What was there to ….oh! The Borgia bowl! It was still filled with the Jelly Babies.
‘She could have manipulated the bowl in some fell manner. (2)’ Secundus added.
‘More than likely yes. (1)’ I agreed. ‘Perhaps even turning off the eldritch nullifier on the bowl’s rim. (1)’ Quintus scanned it.
‘Confirmed. (5)’ he reported. That should have been enough to relax me, detecting that bit of trickery on her part. But there was something else, that still nagged at me.
Then it hit me. Baphomet. They are not prone to amateurish mistakes, according to Aeshma. Everything they do is for a reason. Often, the said reason being something underhanded.
‘Quintus, continue scanning. Be paranoid! (1)’ He did so. I waited for several more, long minutes.
‘Found it! There is something on the far side of the bed, underneath the pillow you used last night. (5)’ I walked over to the bed and carefully lifted the sheets, and then, the pillow in question.
There, lay (lied?) a small cloth bag filled with what appeared to be various dried herbs and plant matter. I activated my left-hand shield buckler and modified it to cover my hand. Doing that, makes for an excellent field glove for tense situations. I felt that this certainly counted as such!
I picked up the sachet and visually examined it. Quintus scanned without being prompted.
‘Caraway Seeds, Cumin, Ginger root, Jasmine flowers, Orange blossoms, Vanilla pod husks, and several other plants I have not encountered before. Some hair which also appears to be caprine in nature. All of which is infused with Demonic Energy. Conclusion- Not so much a “Love Sachet’ as it is a “Lust-Sachet’. (5)’
‘I think I can guess both who it was meant for, and whom it was meant to make desirable. (1)’
‘Primus, consider this. (3)’ Tertius injected. ‘Now we have a ‘Morphic Resonance’ weapon at our disposal. We could use it against Belphegor! (3)’ I almost agreed. It would be good to have something I could use against her.
‘What buts? (2)’ Secundus jumped into the moral fray. ‘It is perfect! She willingly gave up a part of herself! (2)’
‘The oath of hospitality. (1)’ I countered.
‘What of it? She is the one who violated it, with this spell work of hers! (2)’
‘But not necessarily in a violent manner. (4)’ Quartus added. ‘Her actions could be deemed more akin to the opposite. What would the Great Maou conclude? “Belphegor was merely following her instincts to garner herself a mate.” (4)’
“What kind of defense would I have against THAT logic?” I said aloud, rhetorically. As much as I wanted to keep it, to use against her. I could not do so in good conscience. Reluctantly, I carried the sachet outside to the balcony, and tossed it out into the wind. Vasi was there on the balcony railing, sleeping. This time I took care to not disturb her slumber.
Back inside, I had Quintus scan the apartment several times. It took the better part of an hour, but I eventually accepted the fact that there was nothing more to find.
That night I had another dream of that Regal lady with the goat horns. All she did at the beginning of my dream, was shake her head at me as if in exasperation. Finally, she spoke.
“Annwyfn Arawn.” She laughed. “You certainly are quite the spectacle, particularly with your hair brushing skills.”
“Why thank you, Milady. You are most kind.” I said, trying to get a handle of the situation. Looking around, I noted that we appeared to be sitting in a large lava cave of some sort, basaltic rock surrounding us. The chamber floor upon we sat, appeared to have been dug out of the cave’s regolith. To one side was a proscenium theater stage, to its opposite was what appeared to be a seating area with tables but no chairs, just rocks.
The two of us were sitting on two of many adjoining basalt boulders. I noticed then, that the excavated area in which we sat, had some wooden framework supporting bird-netting that covered the entire area between the theater stage and the tabled area.
The ceiling appeared to have some sort of suspended lights that glowed strangely. I was about to call Quintus for a spectrographic analysis of them, when the goat-horned woman interrupted my train of thought.
“Do not bother contacting Quintus, Arawn. He is just as asleep as you are.”
“Then that means he is probably slacking, again.” I growled. “I will need to admonish him.” Then something occurred to me.
“Wait.” I thought. Then I realized it!
“When I think, it is out loud. I can hear myself talking.” The goat woman smiled at me then. I frowned in response.
“You appear to have me at a disadvantage, Madam.” I thought, looking expectantly at her. She turned her head at me and pursed her lips. She appeared to be deep in thought and then replied after a few seconds.
“Call me….Zrihea.” She whispered. She spoke as if she were attempting to recall a memory long lost. “Yes, Zrihea! That was what they called me once.” She said cryptically, nodding and looking into the distance.
“Since my thoughts are now my voice, I can only conclude that I am dreaming. Yet, this does not have the ‘feel’ of a dream.”
“So, what does it feel like to you, Arawn?” Zrihea asked turning to look at me. I thought about it for a bit, silently.
“It feels akin to a Dream-walking.” I mused.
“Close, but not quite.”
“If it were telepathy, then I would be sensing your thoughts. So that is out.” I deducted.
“Continue.” She replied. Then it hit me.
“Dream Sending.” I whispered. “Are you a Nightmare? If so, I can easily put in a call for a Baku.”
“Then do so Arawn.” She dared me. Which I did. I made the necessary benedictions, and shortly a Baku appeared near me in this undesired dreamscape.
The Baku is a multi-talented creature, but I needed this one’s services for its first, best, talent: Eater of Nightmares. It is a strange looking beast, it has the body of a bear, the head of an elephant, the eyes of a rhinoceros, the tail of an ox, and the legs of a tiger. The entirety of this dream guardian/creature’s body was encased in a golden glow. I bowed to it, and thanked it for its prompt appearance. I then turned and pointed at Zrihea, of whom she now bore a tolerant smile.
The Baku’s behavior shocked me. I expected it to go on the offensive, instead it took one look at Zrihea, and then ambled over to her in a deferential pose.
Zrihea then reached out with one hand, and scratched it behind its ear. It appeared to enjoy the attention as it leaned over into her hand. After a moment or two the Baku leaned over so much that it left its belly exposed.
Zrihea took full advantage of the situation, and started rubbing the Baku’s belly. Suddenly, I could hear it purring. I knew of no situation recorded, in which a Baku had ever been reported as being capable of purring. This historic event left me awestruck.
“Oneiro-Dream Sending.” I sighed in my newfound humility.
“Well done Arawn.” Zrihea replied, as she continued to rub the Baku’s tummy. After a few more of her strokes, the Baku faded from view. Its task completed.
“So, the Powers that Be, feel that I am worthy of their manipulation again?” I growled.
“Not exactly, Arawn.” She replied without seeming to do so. “Soon, you will be facing the consequences of a decision that someone else made recently. What you decide, will have far reaching consequences not only for you, but the world you’ve chosen to adopt.”
“Why thank you Zrihea.” I said dryly. “For being so crystal clear in your warnings. It is good to see that you are so unlike every other Dream-Sender with their inclination to dissemble.” Zrihea rolled her eyes at me in response.
“I was told before I was sent here to expect your sarcasm.” She said sourly. “Since you are so disinclined to listen to me, I shall delay speaking with you until you are of a more receptive mindset. But before I go, I wish to express my condolences for your loss. Sleep well.”
“What loss?” I asked. But she did not reply.
With that, my Dream Sending ended and I was undisturbed by any more foolishness during the rest of my slumber. I did have a word with Quintus the next morning, and he was most apologetic for his lapse, and more importantly, for getting caught.