Moonslave Read online

  MOONSLAVE

  by

  BRUCE McLACHLAN

  CHIMERA

  Moonslave first published in 2000 by Chimera Publishing Ltd

  PO Box 152

  Waterlooville

  Hants

  PO8 9FS

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by Omnia Books Ltd, Glasgow

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening Copyright © Bruce McLachlan

  The right of Bruce McLachlan to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988

  MOONSLAVE

  Bruce McLachlan

  This novel is fiction – in real life practice safe sex By the same author:

  MOONSPAWN

  SHADOWS OF TORMENT

  SLAVE TO CABAL

  p[fc rule

  Chapter One

  Chaotic gusts slammed themselves against Kira’s insensible skin, trying to dislodge her from her perch.

  The latex uniform denied any real feeling, almost rendering the strong winds undetected to the areas smothered by it. The cold did not matter to Kira though; all heat had vanished from her body when the Malefic Kiss had changed her forever.

  Crouching, the buckled straps that pinned her legs together and made her walk on her knees had been released, allowing her to scamper on all fours with greater speed.

  The stern leotard that compressed her body set loose her bare breasts, buckled straps at the base making them swell beneath her. The crotch strap rested against the firm contours of her steel chastity belt, the device keeping two mechanised dildos sheathed deep within her. The toys had shocked and pleasured her dozens of times, and her frustration at being teased and constantly denied was accentuated by the fact that she herself had asked to have it put back on.

  Her latex hood opened a slit for her mouth and a visor for her eyes, the mirrored panel protecting her from the torrents of dust in the air. Her ears flapped in the breeze, the pointed latex examples standing pert on her head, striving to fight off the winds.

  Nervously she started furling her fingers and toes against the fitted paws that trapped her extremities in stockings and gloves, the garments connected to her 5

  leotard by tight straps.

  It was strange to be in the open after all this time. The last occasion she had tasted the air of the surface world she had been a fledgling vampire, staggering through the darkness, wracked by pain and thirst, ignorant of what she was, confused, hunted, desperate.

  The world seemed so much different now, a place to which she was immune, its hostility kept from her by the cruel deity standing beside her.

  Her owner was beside her on the edge of the roof, holding the leash affixed to Kira’s collar, displaying her complete control of her trained pet. Tall and defiant of the elements as they pounded against her shapely form she watched the street below, her angular features saturnine, her eyes intense in their search. Her short blonde tresses were pinned beneath the unmarked peaked cap, the rest of her attire also following this precedent to imitate a police uniform.

  A crisp dark blue shirt, its short sleeves rippling against her strong limbs bore a matching tie that flapped freely in the breeze, her breasts pushing against the tight garment. Her hands were fists within leather gloves and she patted one against her side in anxious anticipation, the only display of emotion she currently offered to the outside world.

  Kira’s hungry eyes panned down the short latex skirt gripping her owner’s body and for her own gratification she lingered down the burnished rubber stockings that revealed her contours before vanishing into knee high leather boots. Perched atop them, she seemed even more powerful because of this authoritarian influence to her attire.

  How she adored this woman, the seneschal of the world below the city, who ruled it in the name of its undisputed 6

  and sublime queen. It was so comforting to be owned, to be treated to constant attention, be it painful or pleasurable, protected and soothed by her enslavement.

  Looking to the sky, she watched the clouds as they stampeded from horizon to horizon, driven by the thrashing gale. The moon and stars were hidden by the unbroken sheet, depriving her of her first glimpse of the night sky since she had surrendered herself to the ownership of others.

  The city itself was quiet, the extreme lateness of the hour having taken even the most stalwart revellers to their beds. In a short time, with the approach of dawn, life would start to return. It was as though the sun itself was the power that fuelled the actions of mortals, and once it had fled the sky they operated on the benefits of enthusiasm, drink, or drugs to steal more energy lest they collapse into slumber.

  The street below was totally deserted but for litter, the meandering canyons of the roads funnelling the winds, twisting them, creating savage eddies.

  The old buildings were ramshackle and seemed to lean on each other for support, unable to stand by themselves any longer. The ground floors were businesses, their neon arrays spilling proud slogans and emblems into the darkness. Above them all was fortified, every breech in the smog-stained brickwork fitted with bars, mesh, barbed wire, or simply boarded shut.

  A clue of movement across the street on another roof drew Kira’s eyes into the depths of the shadows. A massive fur-covered form moved from a well of darkness into regions of greater shadow, losing its monstrous shape amidst the pipes and vents of the roof.

  Kira squinted, trying to find him, recognising the form as Thanos. The lupine was part of the mission, a vital 7

  part, for he alone stood any chance against their quarry.

  Her feelings for him were still muddled. The ferocious love they had made still gave her tingling shudders whenever she recalled it, and they were kindred creatures, but he was the pet of the queen and was utterly besotted with his owner. What sort of rival would she be for his affections when placed against their supreme and radiant goddess? And besides, as slaves, what chance had they to continue any relationship? They had been thrown together to entertain visiting dignitaries with their suffering and bliss. When would such a fortuitous set of circumstances bring this about again?

  ‘About time,’ muttered Cassandra, stepping back a little after spying the approach of their target.

  A haggard form strolled into the sporadic aura of the few functional streetlights down the road. Clad in battered clothing she was wrapped in multiple layers, cloaking herself against the chill, her long blonde hair tangled into misshapen tentacles.

  Her steps were shuffled, her back hunched; the feeling of despair was almost tangible around her, making pangs of pity enter Kira’s dead heart. Soon though, she would have such burdens removed.

  The woman slowed as she neared the unmarked door that was entry to her home and sniffed the air. For a moment she turned her head, looking across the street, smelling the wind, having clearly picked up a scent.

  ‘Scratch two ghouls,’ chuckled Cassandra to herself, commenting on the fact that the ambush had been detected.

  The woman stepped beside her door and reached out, bobbing a hand before the peephole and then jolting it back. Instantly the surface started to erupt outward, geysers of splinters punching through the surface as the 8

  wanton spray of silenced gunshots ate through the flimsy barrier. The car parked before the house sparked as holes were punished in its rusted paintwork, the sid
e windows staving in with shattering crashes.

  As soon as she had ducked back the woman flung off her coats, her body unfolding from within itself. In a split second her sinewy frame had arisen four feet in height and donned a pelt of bristling pale fur. Armies of iron muscles rustled beneath the dense hide, her legs taking canine qualities as her snout elongated, spilling forth arsenals of lethal fangs. Dagger talons leapt from her huge hands, a ferocious red light flashing into life within her eyes as a burly form burst through the weakened structure of the door.

  Cradling a silenced AK-47, the assault rifle was aimed forward to continue the attack at closer range. The man was dressed in black overalls with a flak vest laid over them. His belt was equipped with a silver blade and spare magazines trying to prepare him for this most one-sided of conflicts. A ski mask hid his features, and leather gloves prevented the leaving of fingerprints.

  The moment his booted feet crunched into the debris the woman acted with a speed that reduced her to a smear of motion. Spinning forward a set of claws flashed out, gouging effortlessly through the armoured vest and the flesh beneath. His entire mid-section spilled back, reduced to a smudge of gore that splashed back into the house. His torso somersaulted in the air and dropped with a moist squelch, his arms scrabbling in abject panic, his mouth stretched wide, his eyes bulging as his legs were slammed to the wall and toppled to the pavement.

  Reaching in the woman grabbed the second ghoul about the throat before his finger could even squeeze the trigger.

  With a wrench of her titanic muscles he was hauled from 9

  the narrow corridor and delivered face first into the side of the car. The metal door caved in with a metallic screech, letting the body hang half in and half out of the puncture, his head dribbling lines of red from his torn scalp and fractured skull.

  The woman turned to finish off the creature, stepping towards him, flexing her blood-drenched claws.

  As the sound of bones re-knitting and tissues rustling closed came from the stunned ghoul, there was a soft whistle of air as a massive form sped through it.

  Thanos kicked out before he landed, his clawed foot slamming into her back, sending her careering forward to slap violently against the car, denting the metal chassis.

  Landing gracefully his claws scraped against the concrete as he danced forward and repeated his attack, driving her against the vehicle again. With a ringing pound she struck the surface, forcing the car out into the road, its tyres squealing, the potency of the two beasts beyond equal.

  Jumping forward Thanos launched a punch into her flank, only to have his dazed opponent twist aside, letting the fist pierce the engine block, sinking in to the bicep.

  Continuing her twirl she span back, throwing a grievous backhand punch, gathering extra momentum for her attack, turning the dodge into a virulent assault.

  Caught off balance the extremity skimmed Thanos’

  face with a bright crack, tearing him from the car and sending him skimming backwards on the preternatural impetus.

  With a splintering symphony his back drove through metal shutters and the glass panes beyond before he landed harshly on his shoulder blades. Rolling clumsily backwards the shop counter was demolished by his route and left him sprawled within its wreckage. The till landed 10

  heavily in his lap, making him croak with shock before he swatted it angrily aside.

  Kira winced at the sight, wondering if Thanos were seriously injured, her attention to the scene being diverted as a soft muffled thump, like a reversed cough, came from a rooftop opposite.

  A sickly cloud of green and black rolled down as a minute tornado that crackled with opaque lightning. The diminutive storm dissipated, fading to reveal through arising hints of clarity the figure within.

  She had seen the male before, on the first night of her recruitment. He had been standing in the throne room of the queen, studying her with intrigue. If she recalled correctly, the queen had called him Duke Khardekk.

  In his mid-twenties, his countenance was friendly, carefree, a marked contradiction to his icy stare. His loosed blue hair danced upon the wind, his pinstripe suit rippling against it, exposing the sparkling silver lining within.

  Taking the half-devoured cigarette from his lips he flicked it into the breeze and clapped his hands together in preparation.

  The wolfen female span and looked up, casting her gaze first to Kira and Cassandra, and then to the new arrival. Releasing a snarling roar, she vaulted the car and stormed towards the duke.

  With a savage smirk he frowned, drawing his concentration, focusing his strength and his will. Kira had thought him another vampire when she first met him, but now it seemed he was something far different.

  Locking his fingers into an occult configuration, the intricate knot of digits were swallowed by a welling opaque light, the jet halo devouring the light, paining the eyes to bear witness to it.

  11

  The skies shivered, a restless and disturbed quiver running through the fabric of reality as its limits were tested. With a crackling boom a jagged arc of radiant white lanced from the heavens. The lightning strike connected with Corin, ripping into her sprinting form, hiding her amidst an eruption of dazzling sparks and light.

  The intensity momentarily dazzled Kira, making her blink and see nothing but the afterimage of the lightning, etched onto her vision. As it cleared she saw the woman on her knees, panting, her fur charred, smoke rising from her flesh as she shook with endurance.

  With a muttered growl she threw herself back to her feet and tried to continue, her steps weak, dropping from side to side, her awareness faltering from the extreme straits of the ordeal.

  The echo of the thunderclap still rolled upon the sky, powerful in their ears as all watched the duke produce a slender arcane blade. The small knife had a wavy edge, the flat surface flecked with small teeth, the hilt and guard shaped like extended claws, encrusted with dark gems and strange runes.

  Lifting the blade he extended his tongue and ran the edge down the centre, drawing blood. Adding three more slashes, he withdrew the organ. Closing his eyes with concentration, playful jolts of midnight power started to crackle across the expensive cut of his suit, jumping from limb to limb as his skin seemed to shiver. With a startled jolt he leant over, retching, his eyes flashing open and reduced to pulsing wells of darkness. His jaws strained impossibly wide, and a terrible gurgling choke poured free.

  His neck rippled with the passage of some internal trespasser, and from the presented rictus spewed a snaking tendril. The solid length spilled over his lips, 12

  rearing up, slithering against the roof, continuing to extract itself.

  More and more poured free, the amount produced impossible to fit within his structure. When the acute tail finally came free the writhing coils of squirming condensed shadow had to have been at least fifty feet in length.

  The duke licked his lips and straightened, leaving his creation to do its work. The beast spilled down the side of the building, rushing towards the staggering woman and throwing itself around her. She squealed in panic, slashing at the body of the conjuration, but where her claws ripped through it the sundered segments merely continued, each part of it filled with animation and purpose. Her arms were captured and drawn in, the coils surrounding her form, slowly cocooning her, their cumulative strength more than a match for her in her enfeebled condition.

  Howling in dismay she thrashed against them, her muscles flexing and straining with all their might. The cry was cut off as one end of the tendril plunged down her throat, making her eyes bulge in calamity, the addition of swift lengths about her snout, stopping her from biting it off. The creation began to feed her recycled air; air filled with soporific gases, and as the final coils gathered in and smothered her she was fully mummified, the bonds sealing together, leaving no portion of her visible.

  The massive form swayed like a tree in the wind, and then dropped, cracking the tarmac with her weight. She wriggled in her sheath for a few se
conds and then went still, dispatched into coma by the duke’s sorcerous beast.

  13

  Chapter Two

  Having loaded their captive in a van, the taskforce returned to the subterranean palace. The realm was hidden deep, engulfing a vast nuclear shelter and several forsaken constructions of antiquity, converting them, changing them into a vast labyrinth of pain and pleasure.

  Kira sighed as her straps were tightened back into place, lifting her calves and pressing them to her thighs, restoring her complete pet mode.

  The seneschal slapped Kira’s rump, the clap of leather to latex sending warm stinging feeling through the dense material.

  Tugging on her lead, she was set scampering beside her owner, the woman striding down the stone corridors of the upper palace, the other slaves bowing deeply as she passed them by. The activity had increased immensely since last she had travelled through the upper regions where guests and visitors of the queen’s will resided.

  The wide passage of the main corridor gave way to side routes, each first accessing a large and comfortably outfitted lounge, a crossroads that fed into interior passages where entrance to personal rooms was given.

  It was in these chambers that the bedrooms, the facilities, the playrooms and dungeons were located.

  Whole sets of these self-sufficient wings were devoted to one type of visitor. As well as their own serviles, each set of representatives had an army of royal slaves attending their desires. Servants of the queen ferried possessions and gifts, delivered furniture slaves, towed 14

  in harem slaves, transported and escorted with as spry a step as their various bondage uniforms permitted.

  Amidst the plethora of royal subjects the guests themselves were easily distinguished. As she was led through she spotted the locations devoted to the Japanese Clan. The oriental vampire warlords were regal and sombre as they moved through their lounge, pets at their feet, handmaidens trailing in their wake. The concubines held slaves in tow as well, and amidst their numbers she spotted one of the latex nuns that had tormented her on stage for the delectation of the group.