Moonspawn & Moonslave

Moonspawn & Moonslave
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ISBN:  9781780802329
Author:  Bruce McLachlan
Word Count:  137,981
Format:  eBook

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Oubliette & Slave to CabalOubliette & Slave to Cabal
Shadows of Torment I & IIShadows of Torment I & II

Originally published individually as paperbacks by us, here are Bruce McLachlan's Moonspawn and Moonslave brought together in one fantastic erotic eBook volume!

Moonspawn

As a teenager, Kira experiences a strange dream about a mysterious woman who enters her bedroom and seduces her. She forgets the incident until years later, when she finds herself hunted through the streets of the city, her memory fragmented.

Delivered by the woman of her dreams, she finds herself in a subterranean world where supernatural forces thrive and complex webs of intrigue revolve around guests and slaves alike.

As a sexual slave, she serves to entertain and amuse the guests, disciplined severely for her errors or the pleasure of others, trained to obey her overseers, and taught the truth of what she has become, and who her mysterious owners are. In a world of living furniture, pets and servants, only appetite has meaning.

Moonslave

The sequel to Moonspawn sees Kira still serving as the rubber-bound pet of the regal and cruel Seneschal.

Kira accompanies her owner on a mission to abduct the vengeful Lupine Corin, who is subsequently captured and started on her training in submission. The fiendish lessons are studied and aided by Kira, who soon begins to relish dominance almost as much as her slavery.

Served to the appetites of the Palace and its supernatural guests, Kira finally wins the heart of her true love, and is formed into the Seneschal's personal maid. Finally, through perseverance and obedience, she gains ownership of her own harem of slaves, in which she finds three girls she has long wanted to have at her mercy.

Moonspawn

The equations and problems on the page before her were starting to merge and shift, writhing like serpents, unintelligible. Her eyes were heavy, her thoughts furious at having been preoccupied for so long with the extensive homework.
   It was her last year of school, it was almost over. Just a little longer and she would be free. It wasn't even her homework, because once again she had been bullied into it.
   Just the mere thought of the incident had her rubbing her injured arm and scowling with rancour. Why did they keep picking on her? Her life was hard enough, she didn't need others making it even more complex.
   She wished she had the strength to stand up to them, but she was afraid, she just wasn't aggressive. Sure, she would spend hours afterwards brooding on all the things she could have done, all the vicious retaliation she could have undertaken, but when it came around to another encounter, she folded immediately, compliant and weak. She hated herself for that, hated being such a victim, yet here she was toiling into the middle of the night to do their homework for them.
   There was a soft click behind her and she turned to see who it was, thinking that perhaps her parents had come home early. Looking to the side, she panned her gaze through the room. The second floor bedroom was large but filled with only two kinds of adornment, each in direct opposition to the other. Everything was either fuzzy animals, posters of boy bands and frivolous toys, or books and charts of pure science and learning, academic accessories complemented by exercise books filled with her own projections and work.
   There was no one there, so she dismissed it as a product of sleep deprivation. As she regarded her room she caught herself in the mirror, the frame decorated with fluffy toys and simpering saccharine concessions to the image her parents held of what a wholesome young girl should find appealing.
   Her ice-blue eyes were rimmed with red, a shade to match her curling ginger locks, the strands hanging in tight spirals but dishevelled from lack of trained attention.
   She was still in her school uniform, having lacked the time and effort to change because of the workload she faced this night. Her parents were out again, socialising with their clique, bragging about how important they were, how much they earned, and all those who were subordinate to their every whim.
   Kira would readily trade all their prolific and grandiose gifts and purchases for some actual genuine attention from them. They bought her such things just to make her more valuable, like adding a pool to a house to increase its intrinsic value. It was because she, like everything they had, was just another bauble to impress and add to their standing - the daughter in the most prestigious school, whose grades stood out over all others.
   They didn't care about her.
   'You're a total fuck up,' she accused at her reflection. 'You're going to be a doormat all your life. No one will love you, and death will end up being the only thing you'll look forward to,' she continued, and then closed her eyes tightly, tears welling in the corners.
   'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,' she chanted, and then sniffled back her distress.
   It felt good to drop her eyelids, the orbs beneath them requiring a break. Kira decided to lay her head down, just for a while, just a few minutes so she could rest and then revitalise herself a little before finishing up.
   A gust of wind rushed over her face, cooling her skin and making her jolt up from her slouch. Her eyes focused and she saw that the window was now open before her, the night breeze wafting through and making the curtains dance.
   Leaning forward, she grabbed the handle and hauled it closed, the glass suddenly reflecting the image of someone standing behind her. With a squeak of shock she turned, catching a vague image of the woman before she was grabbed and hurled aside.
   Careering across the room she collapsed onto the pink sheets of her bed, bouncing upon the mattress, disorientated by her brief flight and from being awoken so suddenly.
   The woman dropped across her chest, pinning her down, her black-nailed hands snagging Kira's wrists and shoving them into the sheets. Kira whimpered and struggled weakly, her eyes fixed to the visage of the woman.
   Her long snow-white hair was tied back into a ponytail, the silken locks fixed with a midnight ribbon. Her dark eyes were wreathed by a token application of brooding make-up and her lips were painted a deep blue, stretched wide upon an amused grin.
   She wore a latex basque, the material hugging her body, presenting her breasts within sculpted cups. The suspenders reached beneath her high thong and grabbed fine denier stockings that poured across her legs and into knee high zipped boots, the patent footwear armed with a dagger heel. Opera gloves rolled along her arms, the fabric rippling as her muscles kept Kira subdued, the fingers of the gloves severed.
   Kira opened her mouth to scream for help, but as she sucked in a deep gasp to unleash, the woman dove in and clamped her mouth across Kira's.
   Panicked wriggling joined her squeal of protest and she fought desperately as her arms were hauled up over her head, her wrists being crossed before the woman's left hand ensnared the connection. Kira tugged fervently, but the strength of this woman was more than a match for her, and she could do nothing to resist.
   The freed hand wandered down and cupped Kira's breast, gently hugging the budding flesh as a tongue reached into her mouth. A finger teased across her nipple and she gasped with pleasure, suddenly pausing in her battle to get free. Then her eyes rolled back as the hand continued its work, bringing forth a wonderful flood of sensation, washing away her resistance.
   The pointed toes of the woman's boots reached in and hooked to her inner thighs, the stranger forcefully making Kira splay her legs wide.
   Kira panted through her nostrils as the woman continued the kiss, curling against Kira's petrified tongue, seeking to bring it to life with such tenderness. She could not believe this was happening; she had to be dreaming.
   Against reason she let her tongue emerge, stretching out to meet the intruder. They coiled upon one another, slippery and eager to play. She shivered as the stranger ran her tip across her lips, tickling the skin before slipping back in, probing deep.
   The hand started to slip lower, releasing breast and migrating, making Kira's breath quicken with every second that passed of its voyage until she was panting frantically. Clawed fingers hooked the base of her skirt and started to haul up, raising the curtain of fabric to expose her panties. The same hand began to sneak under the front, stealthily entering and then letting a fingertip brush her clitoris. She was already damp with desire, the flames of a long-forsaken libido suddenly erupting into volcanic fervour.
   The finger began to circle and tickle, caressing the tender bud. Kira almost swooned from rapture, her body breaking into a cavorting fit, the woman staying atop her body as though it were a bucking bronco ride.
   Manipulating her loins, her legs held wide by the demanding boots of the stranger, pinned down and subjected to a passionate kiss, Kira surrendered herself in full, melting with prurient desire.
   The hands left their captives and the woman sat up, arching her back, her breasts straining against the taut fabric, making Kira's eyes burn with wonderment.
   'Who... who are you?' she whispered, licking her lips, the taste of another person's saliva strong upon her palette.
   'No more than a figment of your imagination, Kira,' she purred, her voice silken, an enticing delicate sound with a hidden core of darkness to it.
   The hands of the woman closed into the front of her shirt. There was a brief pause where her eyes met Kira's and kept a momentary exchange, then with a wrench she tore it open, sending the small buttons dancing across the bed. Reaching back in, she took the folds of her bra and broke the centre, allowing her to peel back the soft satin fabric and expose Kira's breasts in full.
   'A luscious sight indeed, but not quite ripe,' she uttered, almost to herself, yet with her stark gaze fixed to her subject. 'Not yet, but soon.'
   Abashed worry crept into Kira's mind and she moved to try and cover herself, unused to being put on display for others. But the hands of the woman flashed out and captured her wrists once more, stopping her in her task. Kira's breath froze, afraid that this encounter was to become a violent one, but the woman merely grinned her wicked grin and transferred Kira's hands to her own rubber coated mounds.
   Kira felt the smooth fabric pass beneath her palms, the woman moving Kira's hands in circles across the delicious assets. It felt wonderful; it was a vision of awe that had her devoting herself to more substantial play, to indulge this encounter to its fullest extent. Dream or not, a charm had been laid upon her and she was helpless to resist.
   The woman let Kira feel her hardening nipples lurking within the basque, and then slowly drew the young hands down her sides, following her contours until they cleared her hips. The latex gave way to soft flesh, the skin cool, almost cold to the touch. It enforced that this was a dream, for no normal person had such a body temperature.
   Kira felt the firm buttocks, squeezing the skin, her own loins moist with complete intoxication.
   'That's it, go on,' crooned the woman, as though Kira were a student who had finally succeeded in learning an elusive lesson.
   The woman released Kira, letting her continue as she wished, running a hand around and across the latex of her stomach, holding to a breast as she sought to fill her senses with the physique of the stranger.
   Her enigmatic partner leaned back, presenting an open plate for Kira's hands to dine upon, her taloned hands peeling back the obstructing cloth of her underwear. Letting one set of fingers explore Kira and tickle her clitoris, the other captured a sheen of moisture and used it to steal entry into her rear. A finger kissed the puckered opening and started to slither in, causing Kira to gasp at the alien sensation, the woman probing in and out, circling as Kira sobbed with rapture. The steady stimulation of rear and sex had Kira throwing her head from side to side, striving to endure such intensity while also seeking to try and keep her eyes on the portrait of beauty before her. She was determined not to miss a second of it, not even to blink, for to do so might dispel the dream.
   Kira's hands were wild and random, groping and fondling with passion, the smooth panes of midnight fixating her fingers, the scent of the rubber sifting through her nose.
   The woman lifted up and started to shuffle back, removing herself from Kira's stomach and instead settling between her splayed thighs. A moment of hesitation struck and Kira tried to close her lewd pose, only to have firm hands slap to her thighs and keep them there.
   Looking up from her reclining position, Kira saw the woman lowering her head, an iniquitous smirk ruling her features. Kira could see what was going to happen, her breath once more breaking into chaotic fits. 'Oh God,' she whispered with trepidation...

Moonslave

The engine of the limousine thrummed quietly to itself, its signal seeping into the interior as the softest of background noises. The elegant vehicle cruised as part of the convoy, the mirrored windows screening the passengers from outside scrutiny.
   Kira remained on her knees before her seneschal, licking her owner's boots as the woman gently stroked her tumbling hair. Kira's oppressive uniform was gone, now she was dressed frugally in shades of silver and ivory, presented to tantalise.
   A white thong of satin was matched with albino hold-up stockings, the white band at her thighs dropping into a sheath of mesh, the fishnet vanishing beneath her white patent ankle boots. The stilt heeled footwear was zipped at the front, with a locking band whose silver padlocks denied her the option of removing them. Her fingernails had been manicured and painted silver, and her collar and cuffs had been polished to a mirror finish. Other additions of body jewellery had been made in the form of silver hoops through her ears, and similar matching rings that transfixed her nipples. Other than these token adornments, and a subtle application of cosmetics, Kira wore nothing save a silver chain leash, the leather handle of which was gripped by the seneschal.
   Her beloved owner was far less unadorned. Her hair was swept back and woven into a fierce plait, her military peaked cap pulled down onto it to add to her saturnine disposition. A sleeveless halter-necked dress of latex spilled down her alluring frame, ending in an exceedingly short skirt that barely served to hide the latex thong beneath it. A fishnet bodysuit covered her entire frame, the extremities of which were hidden beneath fingerless opera gloves of rubber and similar thigh boots. The only portions of it available to view were the areas between skirt and boots, and the mesh that covered her shoulders and upper arms prior to being submerged by the gloves.
   Kira continued to busily lick at the latex footwear, the taste of the material a succulent banquet throughout her mouth as she adored her owner. Her love for Cassandra was at new heights, the time between them of late having vastly inflated her obsession with the vampiress.
   The seneschal had been working diligently for a fortnight on some important project of the queen's. During the times where she rested, she worked off her frustrations on her servant, punishing and pleasuring her with regular intensity. It had been a wonderful two weeks of concentrated attention after long periods of isolation where more often than not Kira had found herself sealed in cruel bondage.
   Now they were heading to the result of Cassandra's toils, to some sort of celebration or party. Kira had no real details, and had not beseeched any. So long as she was with Cassandra, she didn't really care.
   'Come up here, slave,' ordered the seneschal, her eyes gazing blankly out of the window.
   Kira lifted herself into the soft leather seat beside her tyrant, nuzzling up against the latex goddess as though she were a kitten seeking attention from its owner.
   Cassandra released the leash and placed a hand about Kira, holding her close, her other hand reaching over and caressing Kira's breasts, running her ebony nails across the pale skin and turning the nipple rings in their tunnels. The soft sensation caused Kira to purr with satisfaction, her thighs pressing together.
   Craning up she placed kisses to Cassandra's covered neck, the latex dress riding over the woman's collar, hiding it from casual scrutiny. Slipping a finger through her left ring, the seneschal gave gentle pulls, manipulating the hoop, making Kira gasp, her hands stroking the firm latex body of the woman. Her breasts were locked beneath the tight embrace of the dress, her body sealed within the impermeable armour, the tactile feast making Kira's fingertips shake and her palms sweat as she traced the polished contours.
   'Would my slave like a spanking before we arrive?' offered the seneschal, lifting Kira's chin so that their eyes might meet.
   'Yes, seneschal, I would,' she whispered.
   Her owner smiled and leant in closer, letting their lips touch, the fleeting kiss causing Kira to melt with desire, her body becoming jelly in the woman's strong arms.
   The seneschal took up the forsaken leash and pulled upon its chain links, drawing Kira over, making her drape across the woman's lap, her rear pert and bisected by the slender thong. Winding the links around her gloved hand, the seneschal caught the last of it in a fist, keeping tight reign on her slave as her other hand slowly rose like a serpent readying to strike.
   Kira closed her eyes against the sight of the passenger door and let a faint moan as the palm slammed to her left cheek, imparting a hot flash before the other buttock was similarly chastised.
   'Like playing the bongos, eh slave?' the woman commented with a wry giggle, applauding the buttocks with a sudden drum roll deluge.
   The seneschal committed the spanking with swift pace, alternating from cheek to cheek, slapping her gloved palm home with harsh barbarity, the impacts warming the flesh until it was throbbing with effulgent riots.
   Then without warning she changed methods, releasing the accumulated rolls of chain and using the leather hoop of the leash as a makeshift weapon. The thick hide descended with a minute whistle and slammed across Kira's rosy cheeks, making her gasp with endurance and rapture. The seneschal enclosed her freed hand into Kira's hair, locking her fingers into it and drawing back, lifting her features back as she began a slow and precise abusing of Kira's rear.
   With another sharp crack the hoop fell, sending ripples through the yielding flesh of Kira's rear as her fingers sank into the seat, clasping tightly. 'Oh, seneschal,' she murmured, pulling slightly at the hold to have her roots grumble.
   The seneschal released her follicles and ran her hand down the naked canvas of Kira's back, the silken skin and latex sliding effortlessly against one another, radical in their contrast of midnight black and snowy paleness.
   The car gave an unexpected lurch that had the seneschal look up with a snarl. 'Keep your eyes on the road, dimwit!' she snapped, and reached forward, thumbing a button on the control panel that served the passengers anything from the limousine's wide range of epicurean accessories.
   Kira heard a faint electrical crackle from beyond the one way glass and gagged sounds of harrowing, the driver being chastised for his failings. She smiled and lowered her face to the leather, forcing her cheek into it, weathering the stabbing tempest.
   Just as it began to dwindle another fell, and another, the seneschal's hand pressing into the small of Kira's back, holding her in place as her belly squirmed upon latex-clad thighs.
   'Five more, slave. Five more and we'll stop,' she promised, pausing to softly rub Kira's torrefied anus, sending a shudder through Kira and causing widespread eruptions of goose flesh. 'Count them off for me, slave,' she said, once more taking a stern bushel of Kira's hair and holding it back, lifting her face, craning her neck back so that the vertebrae smarted.
   The leash snapped down and let lose its abrupt signal upon Kira's rear, the lucid bite bringing her to attention before she drained back into a limp slouch across the knees of her owner. 'F-four, seneschal,' she muttered.
   The leash slammed down once more, crossing the previous angry weal and escalating the effects further. Kira interlaced her fingers and squeezed, grinding her teeth as she endured the latest episode of her voluntary correction. 'Th-th-three, seneschal,' she managed to say, squeezing the words through a rigid jaw.
   The next stroke made her gasp and shake, fighting to stay still, the woman having sunk it into her inner thigh, targeting one of her most vulnerable locations. Kira's boots squeaked against the seat as she shuddered and kicked, sobbing softly, tears welling in her eyes. 'T-two, s-seneschal,' she finally managed to say after a pause to recover her senses, her rear awash of duress.
   'Almost there, slave,' comforted the seneschal, and swung down with a malicious hack.
   Kira cried out and arched back, rigid with stress, her buttocks clenching and unclenching frantically. 'One... one left, seneschal,' she burbled, salty trails tumbling across her cheeks and dripping from her jaw.
   The final stroke was delivered with all the strength of the vampiress, the descending strap humming against the air before sounding loudly against Kira's thigh. The servile girl released a screech that broke into upset fits of sobs and gasps, her body wracked by the ordeal as she shivered and quaked, keeping herself on the seneschal's lap. Kira's hands dropped to hold to the woman's dagger heels, grabbing them as a means of security, a comfort, a reminder of her station to help her survive the tempest.
   'There, that's all of them, slave,' commented the seneschal, releasing her holds and gently pawing Kira's hindquarters as the girl vented her duress.
   'Thank you, seneschal,' Kira added automatically, gathering her deportment.
   'Good slave. Now you can continue cleaning my boots until we arrive,' she ordered, causing Kira to slide free of her owner's legs and return to the floor. Folding herself into a neat ball on the carpeted interior of the car, Kira's tongue rolled up and down the smooth stems of latex as she nursed her pulsating rear...

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