The Tied: Possessive Gods, Book Three Page 5

  I do not speak in a lecturing tone. I keep my voice in a smooth purr, allowing her to become accustomed to her bonds. I have made very certain that they will not make her uncomfortable. She can, and will stay trussed up like this for several hours.

  The point of this exercise is to let her experience control, and to allow her to sink into it. I think Lucy will come to enjoy these ties. I think she already does. She’s capable of relaxing into my authority, but she’s not going to do it without being shown how.

  I lay her down on the bed. She whimpers softly, but does not fight me. I don’t think she really wants to, but even if she could, she is far too well bound to be able to even begin to struggle. Soon it will be completely impossible.

  I wind the rope round her legs, crossing it over itself until it draws them close. This particular set of ties leads her to look almost like a mermaid, the knots of the ties settling in the gap between her thighs and calves.

  She’s beautiful, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders and over the silken sheets, tendrils playing in the little currents and eddies produced by our motions.

  I am enjoying the silence. No complaints. No arguing. No sass. Just beautiful compliance elicited by these enchanted bindings.

  She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound emerges. These bindings have more than practical applications. Their enchantments make the recipient much more biddable, as well as far quieter - which means actions not yet taken, ones which involve punishment and pain will not lead to uncouth sounds escaping.

  Lucy

  I can’t move.

  I feel as though I should be panicking, but I can’t muster panic. The ties actually make me feel… safe? I am wrapped up and contained. I am held and completely helpless. I have to rely on him now. I have to hope that he will be merciful, while knowing that he will absolutely not be.

  Triton lies down beside me and reaches for me. I am bound by his ties, and held tight in his arms. He embraces me, and I feel all the stress and worry of the last hours come rushing out in a torrent of tears.

  I draw in deep breaths, taking in water every time, but still breathing thanks to his charms. Triton is so powerful. I should never have crossed him, and yet it is my fate to cross him.

  “Shhh," he gentles me, running his fingers through my hair, being so soft and so tender I almost start to feel safe. The ties which at first felt like a punishment are starting to make me feel secure. These tight bonds make it impossible to move, and so I have to surrender because there is no other choice.

  “You don't have to punish me any more,” I whimper.

  “I haven’t even begun punishing you,” he murmurs, pressing a bristled kiss to my cheek. “You were a bad girl, weren’t you.”

  I was a bad girl. A deliberate bad girl, because I wanted this. Needed this. His intimacy is worth a thousand sins.

  There are layers to my predicament, and as my tears dry and my panic fades, I start to become aware of the excited heat between my thighs. I like this. I like him.

  Until he decides to spank me.

  I know what is going to happen the moment he lifts me over his knee and I find myself face down, looking at the ground, my hair floating about my face, obscuring my vision.

  “Naughty little princess runaway,” he teases me, running his big palm over my exposed cheeks. “What happens to naughty little princess runaways?”

  I still can’t speak and he knows it. But the question isn’t one to be answered. It is one to send quivers of anticipation through my bound body.

  He’s making me wait for my punishment. He’s not rushing this even a little. In fact, he’s drawing it out, tracing the tips of his fingers over my skin, charting the curves of my form from the crest of my ass all the way to the crease where my cheeks meet my thighs.

  If I could speak, I’d tell him just to get on with it. Hurt me, forgive me, untie me. Please. Don't hold me in this limbo forever.

  SMACK!

  He grants my silent wish with startling and swift intuition. I learn then that all these ties do not get in the way of his hand meeting my ass. I am trussed so securely I can hardly move at all. I can’t touch myself even a little, but he can touch me. He can touch me hard.

  “I like to spank you,” he reveals. “I like the way it makes your skin redden. I like the way you squirm and writhe. I even like the way you cry. Your tears are beautiful to me.”

  He is twisted and dark. He is excited by my pain. I think there is something about my signs of soreness which makes him hard.

  I don’t know whether to be afraid of him, or completely terrified. Either would seem to be a sane response. But my body is in charge of my response, and I am not physically afraid. There is no terror response. There are quivers of fear, but they are delicious. They make my thighs wet with desire which seems to come from the very core of me.

  His slaps continue to fall, building to a punishing crescendo which makes my toes curl. I am grunting through the pain, still unable to speak, but my body speaks for me as I squirm and writhe as much as these infernal bonds will let me.

  Triton

  I am so glad she ran away. It was a pathetic attempt at escape, and it has given me the opportunity and pleasure of punishing her. I do love spanking a wayward young woman, and I love spanking this one more than any other. She has a full ass and skin which shows color beautifully. Every time my palm lands against her blushing bottom, her flesh blooms and then settles into a deeper hue.

  She deserves every bit of this. She is disobedient and willful, and she is intent on putting herself in harm’s way. I knew she would make an attempt to leave at least once. I had this planned the moment I knew she was coming to me, right down to the way my ties wrap around her nubile form, accentuating her curves and containing her wayward flesh.

  Many humans would consider what I am doing wrong, perhaps even evil. Here I am, taking advantage of the predictable innocence of a princess just barely on the threshold of maturity. But Lucy needs someone to bring her into herself. She will never become what she was meant to be if she doesn’t experience adversity, and if nobody ever challenges her misbehavior.

  Lucy needs to be spanked, and by all the gods, I need to spank her.

  Lucy

  There is heat in every part of me. It sinks through my ass and finds a home inside me, at the nexus of my being, igniting parts of myself I did not know existed.

  This is not like the punishment he gave me the first time he spanked me. This is something far more intense and adult. Perhaps it is the war which heightens everything and imbues each moment with meaning. Whatever it is, it is fucking hot. I am dizzy with lust, dripping with need. I am like a filly in season, my sex displayed in all its slick, wet, glory.

  “What shall I do with you now, little princess?” He murmurs the question to himself, not to me. I am an object to be acted upon now. I am a trussed little captive ready to be claimed by the big bad god.

  I know what he’s going to do next. It is so inevitable it may as well be carved in stone. We are going to, as my sister would say, fuck. Rut like animals. We are going to forget that we are gods and we are going to be as base and desperate as any beings made of limited flesh.

  Triton lifts me off his lap and bends me over the bed, still very much bound. I lay, waiting for what must surely come, knowing that it will change everything forever.

  Triton

  Dare I claim her for my own? Of course I dare. I have nothing to fear from god or man. I promised to keep her safe. I did not promise to return her untouched. The pairing of an innocent princess and an ancient god is a perfect one. She brings all the beauty of the new, a mere nineteen years of life leaving her soul and body equally untouched. It will be a depraved pleasure to watch the seam of her lips spread around my cock as she is taken for the first time.

  Lucy

  I feel the thick head of Triton’s manhood find my sodden slit and rub up and down. I know what this is. This is the last step in his seduction. This is the final barrier between
me and the womanhood I want so desperately to claim.

  Triton denied me that once, a year ago, but he is not going to deny me it now. He is going to give me everything I need, everything I have craved in the quiet nights where I lay awake, pretending to sleep, my fingers drifting across my most intimate parts.

  I have climaxed over and over imagining this. I knew that I would be hot and sore when it happened. That first time he spanked me, I felt his hunger in the core of me.

  Much has happened between then and now. I have been trussed. I have been punished. I have been made his captive and now, as his cock slides inside me with a torturously slow motion, I become his lover.

  I let out a moan and discover that I have found my voice. I can hear my own lust, my own sweet release as Triton’s cock glides inside me. He is slow and he is careful, but he is also thick and hard. My inner walls are spreading around him in accordance with his will, giving me delicious pleasure.

  My bindings feel tighter, but not because they have physically tightened. They feel tighter because I am expanding, glowing with desire. My legs are trying to part to allow him to go deeper. My back arches as his big hands take hold of my punished cheeks and spread them to give his cock more room.

  A growling sound emanates from him, a rumble of pure possession and absolute desire. He pushes deeper, deeper until he is all the way inside me, my sex wrapped tightly around him.

  Triton

  This is everything I have wanted for a year. There is hot, almost entirely human flesh wrapped around my cock. This is my ward, my protectee tight around me. I am sheathed inside her so deep I can feel her every quiver and reaction. The beautiful arch of her back lifts her hips up, presenting the perfect rounds of her ass to me.

  There is no way for her to know how desirable she is, how incredible the sight of her prone body is. She has a stunning face and an elegant figure, but even from behind she is something to behold. I could stare at her all day long, and indeed I might. There is no rush. I am not a mortal man, desperate for orgasm, plunging myself like a rutting animal inside her. Perhaps I will lose control like that later, but not now. This is her first time, and I want to make it as pleasurable as it is instructive.

  Her pussy is delicious, buttery hot around my flesh. When I draw myself out, her inner lips grip my cock and cling to it before relinquishing it. Every part of this young woman’s body is designed to be claimed. Nature knew what it was doing when it made her, and the spark of divinity inside her only serves to highlight what animal wisdom chose to form.

  I fuck her long and slow. I take my time. I make sure she feels every inch of my cock as I revel in the remnants of her virginity. I have conquered her, but it is not a conquest of war. It is one of will. She has bent more than her body to me. She has bowed that proud spirit which comes from the heavens above, the golden glow of the eternal sun which lives inside her and manifests in so many ways, not the least of which is her molten sex which seems to be growing hotter with every thrust.

  Lucy

  I’m going to come. More than come. I’m going to shatter and fall apart around his cock. With every grinding, humping motion I make, the bindings rub against my pussy. The bindings are split open, like undergarments with no crotch, but there is an infernal little knot centered right at the apex of my thighs. Every time Helios slides in, I grind against that nub and get closer to a detonation inside my soul.

  He senses my need. He thrusts harder and faster, simple mechanics overwhelming my divine body.

  “Fucckkkkk…” I invoke the old human exclamation of desire as the inevitable climax rushes over me, starting in my toes and slamming through my body all the way to the roots of my hair. I convulse against my bonds, trying to stretch, needing my freedom. But there is no freedom, just captive orgasm.

  He is not done with me.

  It happens again.

  And again.

  He uses the grip my bonds afford him to draw me forward and backward along the shaft of his cock. He is so fucking long, and so fucking hard, and now that I have come a couple of times, and my sex is sensitive, puffy, wet, and all too swollen, each thrust is that much more intense.

  I start to whimper softly, and then to whine. My sounds of complaint seem to make him harder and thicker. I hear his grunts intensify as he pulls me onto his cock harder and shoves me forward faster. I can hear my pussy being impaled repeatedly on his dick, a wet slapping sound which makes my toes curl with a particular kind of excited shame and pain.

  He lets out a roar as he comes, just as my own whimpers start to peak. His orgasm is far more powerful than any of mine. He pulls me down hard on his cock, and he fills me with his essence. It is hot and it is abundant and I feel it slipping out of me as it overflows.

  My mother has told me many times what happened to her, how she slept with my fathers and then Raine and I emerged from her. My sister too, has given birth. I feel Triton’s seed inside me, his essence deeper than anything else has ever been, and I know that my belly could also swell because of this.

  “Unshinghen,” he utters the word and the bindings release of their own accord. I am free, suddenly and all too completely. It feels like a relief when he wraps me in his arms and holds me close and I get that sense of controlled captivity again, the sweetness of being held and cherished.

  * * *

  “Do you know what you have done to me?” I ask the question when I can form words again.

  “What have I done to you, sweet princess?”

  “You have given me your seed.”

  “Ah,” he smiles. “Yes, I have.”

  “Your essence could make a mother of me.”

  “Yes. It could.” He runs his fingers lightly through my hair. “I hope it does. I would like to see you swell with my seed. You will be even more beautiful when ripe.”

  I feel a tingle, knowing that this very moment, I may be in the process of being bred by Triton. His come is inside me still, swimming deep inside my own personal ocean.

  “I don’t think I am ready. It changed Raine completely…”

  “You will have time to adapt and adjust. It is not often that the first time results in conception. I will have to breed you time and time again. I will have to make sure you brim with my essence day after day…”

  As he speaks, his fingers brush lightly over my sex. He touches my ravaged lips ever so lightly and tenderly, reminding me how it was when he was inside me, how hard and rough he was capable of being.

  Triton is far darker than I imagined. Far stronger, too. He is a creature of literal hidden depths, and now I am his in a way I will never be anybody else’s.

  I lie in his arms, enjoying his caresses, wondering what will yet become of me. This is only my first day in Undersea and already I have been punished and deflowered. What could tomorrow bring?

  6

  Lucy

  I do not sleep, and neither does Undersea. The city glows day and night, and is always rich with activity, though it changes depending on the hour. In the days following our coupling, Triton and I settle into what might consider a routine. I am ravaged regularly, giving my body to him night after night, day after day,

  But passion alone is not enough. I cannot forget the surface, and what is happening there. I cannot forget the reason I feel so incredibly good in Triton’s arms is because there is a war going on above.

  I try to forget, though. I try to forget because there’s nothing to do but forget. I think that’s half the reason our lovemaking is so regular and so desperately passionate.

  One afternoon, I lie in his arms and look out the window where the city of Undersea lies.

  “If I promise not to swim away, can I go into the stores? There must be stores down there, right? Places where you can buy things?”

  “Things like what?”

  “I don’t know, like clothes.”

  Triton gives me a look under his raised brow. “I do not know what clothing you’ll be interested in. It is mostly for the merpeople. They don’t have
much in the way of bottoms.”

  “You mean the sea elves.”

  “I mean the merpeople. The mermaids and the mermen. The people of the sea.”

  “The elves of the sea.”

  He quirks a brow at me. “You’re arguing just to argue, aren’t you.”

  “Maybe. But there’s nothing in my room. I mean literally nothing. If I’m going to live down here, I need some things.”

  “Oh, things? What kind of things?”

  “Pretty things. Decorative things. Dresses. And a closet to put them in. And a bed… so I can rest. Don’t you like pretty things?”

  “You’re the only pretty thing I need.”

  He’s being flattering, but in a way which deserves, and earns, a thorough eye roll.

  Triton

  Humans love their things. Gods are not so concerned with material possessions. Something about understanding matter as being fundamentally temporary, and also not actually needing anything made of it tends to make one seem above it all.

  Anything which makes Lucy feel happier here has value. I will buy her a thousand trinkets if they are sufficient distraction from the battle going on above the water.

  “Yes,” I say. “Let’s go shopping.”

  * * *

  No eternal, ancient god thinks his last words are going to be let’s go shopping, but mine might be.

  Lucy’s shopping stamina might be the greatest power I have ever seen expressed by a goddess. We have been going from store to store for hours now. Undersea has thousands of little shops. Each of the families in the city has its own outlet, so we could potentially be here for days and days.

  “This!” Lucy declares, pulling a gown from a line of similar gowns. “I will die if I do not have this exact dress!”