5. “You will learn to please me, to entertain me…”

Chapter 5

"You will learn to please me, to entertain me…"

NYXION

"Sugar" by Sleep Token

"Fall for Me" by Sleep Token

I step into the chamber, my presence snuffing out the flickering candles shedding their eerie light.

Zenya doesn't move, but her body changes, her senses electrified to my being. The ropes still hold her in place, the noose still tight around her soft and delicate throat. I stiffen at the knowledge that she did not even try to escape her bondage. Frustration mounts. Grinding my jaw, I approach.

She will soon feel the cold grip of my fist choking her, the cut of my teeth biting her, and my claws bleeding her. Once she is penitent from torment and finally ready to please me, I will grant her the release she will beg for.

First, I trace a solitary finger along her spine, thrilling in her shiver and the hairs pricking to life.

"You disappoint me, Zenya." My voice lowers to a velvet purr, laced with menace. "But your emotions are still a feast worth savoring. And this will give me an opportunity to train you."

She swallows hard, wiggling her head as much as possible. The noose shifts from the bobbing of her throat. "I don't know what the hell you want with me." Her feminine growl is quite adorable.

Her emotions play upon the air in a blend of compliance and resistance that I find quite delicious. "Much, my strange, little dreamer."

With a flick of my wrist, I transform the ropes into skin wraps, enchanted strips of human skin that now bind her wrists and ankles, spreading her legs all the wider. Their texture is soft and unsettling, tightening and releasing with her every movement.

Blindfold temporarily removed, I revel in her eyes widening at her realization of the fleshy bindings imprisoning her. Such a mesmerizing color, a shade of deep aquamarine, birthed right from the womb of the sea.

All her limbs lock up. Yes, the flavor profile of her emotions is satisfactory. If I cannot have her dreams, then I will settle for her fear and horror. The adrenaline in her blood. The endorphins of her body.

Another gesture from my hand locks a rib cage bodice across her front that presses against and plumps her pretty breasts while giving me access to her rosy nipples. As I curl my breath across the side of her face, the buds harden. How delightful.

Now I fasten a bone collar with small, thin, sharp needles around her lovely throat. They prick her skin but do not bleed. "Like the noose, they will tighten should you move too much."

Angry tears heat her eyes, and I appreciate her rebellion. "Why are you doing this?"

"You belong to me now," I assure her and scrape one claw along the graceful curvature of her spine where the spinal cord tattoo sweeps down to her heart-shaped ass, leading to a raven on one cheek and a dove on the other. "You will learn to please me, to entertain me. I am a selfish beast. I care not for morality, nor mercy. I have grown quite bored of the same screams of fear and wails of sorrow. It's all so dull."

"Woe is you," she spits out, careful not to jerk or swing. "My heart truly bleeds for you."

Chuffing a laugh, I manifest one another significant object and grin at how she shivers. "Your spirit is commendable. And while I appreciate your sympathy, for that audacious comment, I will say I'm truly looking forward to testing your potential."

Slowly, I secure the deer mask across her face, hundreds of tiny bone needles brushing her flesh without breaking it. "Do you know how tiresome it is to hear the same cries every night?" I engage in casual conversation.

"And I have the honor of fixing that for you by playing along with your game of extreme acupuncture?" She rolls her eyes.

"Naturally. Let's see if you can entertain me without cutting your skin. But…" I lift a wagging finger of warning, "…every drop of blood you spill will add another hour to this waking nightmare. Unless you prove worthy of ending it by your own will."

Through the mask, her eyes burn against me. "Look, I'm honored to serve as your voodoo doll, really, but I'll have to charge you an hourly rate to be a personal pincushion."

I chuckle darkly, savoring her sarcasm, her twisted mind that laughs in the face of nightmares.

Inspired by her ink, I twist my lips into a smirk and manifest a spinal cord of my own—one with the same needles that prick the skin of her spine.

"As far as nightmares go, I'll give you points for morbidity, albeit a little predictable." Her bravado doesn't waver as she unleashes more impishness.

"I will give you points, my little killer." I make my way behind her to her delectable ass. Tonight, the raven and dove feathers will bleed. "It's the first time a soul has played with me. I wonder how you would respond to a hunt, but that may come later…after our business here."

We both know her energy is unstable and mad with the volatility and passion I require. I wish for her to break, to shatter, then fall. Fall hard for me until I rebirth her to become my perfect slave. Her mortality is in my hands, and I will take her mind to whatever depths I desire.

For I am worse than all the demons in hell—and more beautiful than the shining hosts of the heavens.

"Who are you?" she demands as I spin three serpents into a braided whip with a femur bone as the handle.

I listen to her ragged breath and rise higher as she slowly inclines her chin at the barest angle of seeking me. She cannot with her vision fractured from the mask.

Positioning the serpent ends to strike their tongues along the seam of her ass, I sweep my power until she feels me everywhere. And shivers, giving me the first drop of blood. It glides along her collarbone, a delicious crimson tendril.

Leaning in, I whisper, "I am the feverish chill crawling along your spine, little dreamer. I am the weight on your chest when you battle with the terrors of night. I am the spider creeping along the boundary of your eyelashes. The black dream, the Frightener who will carry you to the realms of the Abyss and watch as you look inside until you show me your fear and your deepest and darkest secrets."

"Tell me!" she shrieks from two needles cutting into her spine, dripping a line of blood down her back.

Chilled breath curling across her ear, I proclaim in a whisper I transcribe in her mind like my ominous calligraphy. I. Am. Nyxion. The. God. Of. Nightmares. Welcome to my realm, child most sweet and strange.

She screams so prettily.

She bleeds beautifully.

Her mind surrenders so adoringly.

But she hasn't fallen yet. She refuses to make it past the stumbling block forbidding her to break. Whenever she faints, triggering the needles to sink in, it's like a succulent ambrosia. This height of surrender before I wake her and begin the process again.

By now, I've rid myself of my outer robe, finding it too cumbersome. After all, we are in the eleventh hour. I admire her high level of pain tolerance. Her mind is a flawless vessel of sweet violence. I know better than most. She plays a convincing role on social media, even if all her drama-seeking fans are waiting for her to snap.

I'd rather see her break.

Sweat flows into her cuts, licking salt into the wound, intensifying the pain while I give her enough pleasurable torment to keep her on a high of endorphins and adrenaline.

I swing the whip, smiting her ass again, admiring the bloody feathers and how I've permitted the raven and dove to come to life in a pecking war.

Her pheromones shower the air, practically drenching my senses. Her need rages inside her. Harder than ever, I'll credit myself for lasting this long, given how much my balls wish to explode inside her. Not until she begs.

She's cried. She's gritted her teeth to the breaking point and given me such lovely fractures and blood trickling from the sides of her mouth.

I've numbed some of the pain with their venom, giving her the torment of a more intense tattoo. And the pleasure of the devil worshiping an angel.

I heal her. She bleeds for me.

Draping the whip along the seam of her bleeding ass, I direct the serpents to lick at her essence. An extension of me, they gift me the taste of her drippy arousal mixing with the dark opiate of her blood, such a sweet addiction.

I keep her on the edge of insanity. On the brink of such heights of bliss. She will beg soon.

Once I swing the serpents, whipping at her clit before directing them to lick at the puckered, pink ring of her asshole, she yelps. "Oh, god, haven't you had enough?" she screeches through gritted teeth. "You know torture never yields accurate results? Ahh!" Yes, she would know that, wouldn't she?

I grin right at her as she screams from my serpents having split to latch onto her pretty nipples, their fangs penetrating her flesh.

Merciless, I direct the third serpent to slap at her swollen, needy clit once more. They alternate between those stinging strikes and licking circles without giving her release.

"What did I ever do to you?" she spits out, those tear-lashed eyes blazing in the darkness. "Are you going to keep decorating me with spilled blood, chipped teeth, and fractured bones until I'm your tortured masterpiece?"

"And what a canvas you are for my palette of nightmares," I say, my voice deeper than ever. "You are not a victim. You are my muse. Your pain is my art. You will be my greatest creation."

"Don't act like you're doing me some favor."

"Hardly," I snort, eject the fangs from her nipples, and lower my mouth to capture one bloody bud.

"Fu—ahh!" she shrieks from my tongue flicking her serpent piercing as the spinal cord slices into the center of her back following her lurch.

"I believe the next drop will carry you into tomorrow's timeline, little killer. Unless you'd care to end your torment. But it seems you enjoy the punishment too much. Oh, what rapture you will feel when you come to your senses." I rub the wetness along her pubic lips and taste it along with her blood glistening on her thighs. Evidence of my expertise and the mastery of her emotions.

" Your torment!" she gasps, her cheeks flushed with heat and anger. A delicious moan breaks from her throat from the serpent stabbing its tongue against her clit. "This is all yours! Do you get off on torture for kicks?"

I huff. "If I merely wished to torture you, I would drive you to such depth of pain without bringing you to the heights of pleasure—pleasure you may seize at any moment. Freedom at your fingertips, my strange girl."

All it takes is one cool caress from my hand upon her lashed, lush folds for her to arch, her body unable to resist responding to me even as her mind screams denial.

My prison has locked her in darkness. But she holds the key. I've shown her the door. If I show her the goddamn key, everything will be ruined. It must be her willpower. Her choice.

Face to face with her again, her bloodied features fractured by the deer skull, I tilt my head like the predator I am. Her breath is too thin. Twisting my grin, I lean in and lick her blood-stained lips, tasting her eclipse essence, offering her my breath, and driving it into her lungs. I cut my teeth on her lower lip, biting it harder. Her whimper is music to my ears. Her screams are a symphony.

"I'm going to cut out your heart and eat it!" she screeches.

"Far be it from me to deny you if that is your kink, little killer," I chuckle and squeeze her tantalizing ass, savoring how she hisses through her chipped and broken teeth. "Show me yours as I've shown you mine."

"Just tell me what I have to do to end this!" she hoarsely pleas, her muscles straining with the skin strips.

"I do not appreciate laziness, Zenya," I growl and rain down more lashes on her striped bottom until she chokes on her scream. More tears and more blood falling. A great gasp of air signals she's about to faint again. All it takes is my will to pump more spirit through her veins, keeping her awake. "You belong to me. But you are not at my mercy. I am at yours."

"Oh, fucking riddle me this, riddle me fucking that!" she screams at the serpent probing its tail into her forbidden hole.

I'm breaking her defenses with every passing strike. I grind against her, allowing her to feel my rod as hard as a god's bone. She writhes, squirms, and struggles, bleeding more for me until the viscous matter weeps down the sides of her pretty skin, marring her ink.

"Oh, Zenya, my strange and sweet, little killer. What a fine line you tread between life and death in this, my world."

I slip my hand between her thighs and seize her sex, triggering her to wail. Her center gushes its slick wetness, drowning my palm. She is dangling like my pretty puppet, but she cannot comprehend how she has tangled me in her strings.

"Fuck you!"

I slap her clit and command the serpent to burrow its tail in deeper until her whole body trembles for me. Such scrumptious shudders. "Hmm…if that is your wish, who am I to object? You are the warmth and majesty of a darkened sun, Zenya Alice Myre. Such blinding darkness and a ring of pure endless light."

She squeezes her eyes, weeping more before she twists in my grip. I tsk a warning, reminding her I control her pleasure. "You will not claim it until you've pleased me."

Another scream leaves her throat before she faints again. Rocking her back and forth with the strength of my palm upon her mouthwatering sex, I wake her again, pulsing the blood in her system. Her flesh melts against mine. But oh, how strong her spirit! All those violent emotions are simply waiting to be unleashed. She is ready to explode into a supernova of a fucking orgasm.

"You seek all that I may provide," I snarl in her ear before licking another bloody trail on her cheek. "You love the battle. And my art is yours to command. You need my darkness to unleash your greatest light."

"Fine. I want you. I'm yours." She sighs, dropping her head in defeat. "Is that what you want me to say?"

Sensing her emotions faltering, I meet her eyes, finding them vacant as she tries to slip away. "No!" I roar and rattle all the bones and their needles, cutting them deeper into her flesh until she screams and throws her body toward me. "You will not fade away. You will not hide from me."

"I don't know what you want, you boneheaded bastard!"

"What you want!" I gnash my teeth in front of her face, spitting my venom. Then, I slap hard and fast at her center, targeting her clit and driving her to the brink of another peak. "And you don't need to say anything, sweet dreamer."

She shakes, she seizes for me. Her center spasms, but I pull her back.

She snaps, riding my hand and giving me the peak of her desire and her feminine wrath. "If I command you, then give it to me, you pincushion-fetishizing prick." Her emotions are too fiery with rich tones but not the black opium I am waiting for. "I'm beginning to think you're just projecting your insecurities onto me until I'm your perfect idea of pussy-whipped. Maybe you don't have what it takes. Maybe you're impote—oh god!"

I've driven the thick femur-whip handle into her center, twisting the head along that secret knot inside her, full of all its delirium. She's stretched so tight. The pressure is ready to detonate with the force of an atom bomb.

And with her impaled on the bone, I whisper into her ear, "All you need to do is break, shatter, and fall for me, little killer."

"You want me broken? Shattered? You want me on my knees praying to you for everything? Then, get me out of these!"

"No." I drive the handle deeper and purr along her neck.

"I'll do whatever you want!"

"I don't want you broken , Zenya." I go as far as I dare. I let her feel the edges of the key, dangling it just out of her reach. All she needs is to seize it. "I want you to break ! Break now!"

The bone mask cracks.

"Ahh, fuck!" I growl, the force of her weaving nearly driving me to my knees. FUCK, YES!

The mental visage begins to crumble. Yes! She thrusts the needles out until they all tumble to the floor like thousands of clanging notes. Her twisted, needling symphony.

She is peeling back the chrysalis and trading ashes for beauty. I've never tasted anything so profound. Like a goddamn prophecy.

Tilting my head, I stare through that mask, find the windows of her fractured soul, and I peer in to greet Zenya Alice Myre. "Ahh, there she is! What a beautiful, little monster you are."