Caught in a Trap

Another wait, but not so long as the last one. The chapter isn't as long, either. Sorry about that. They'll probably all be shorter from now on, and more of a collection of vignettes with these characters/in this setting rather than a direct plot. Please enjoy!

*****

After scrubbing, dusting, and rearranging the future waiting and consultation rooms, I'm exhausted and sweaty. Geoffrey has, of course, been sedately studying all day, and when he comes back to check on my progress he looks calm and unruffled.

"Pretty good," he says, nodding and walking around the waiting room. He sticks his head into the consultation room. "Yep, pretty good there as well. I'm really surprised - I didn't think you'd take to servitude so well. Did you ever fantasize about being a slave back at the university?"

I refuse to answer.

"Let's set some ground rules, Marra. Going forward, you call me 'master' every time you speak. Yes, no, longer answers - whatever. Michal, too, when he's here. Everyone else is 'sir' or 'mistress'. I'm not going to keep forced obedience spells on you, just a magic-blocker, and you're going to do our bidding anyway. Punishments will come whenever I feel you need to be punished. Got that?"

I refuse to answer again.

"You want to get started with punishments? Okay, that's fine. Start as we mean to go on. I thought up a good one while I was upstairs - several good ones, so I hope you keep being disobedient." He goes over to the window, opens it and utters a complex animation spell, then stands back. From his smirk, it seems clear that I'm going to get fucked by something strange. A tree? Oh gods, how would that work?

But instead of a tree, one of the gargoyles apparently decorating the outside of the tower flies in. It's not very big, but when it lands I can see that it's grown an enormous erect cock, made out of stone like the rest of its body. I gasp and take a few steps back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, master!" I say, ashamed to be pleading to Geoffrey, but without any other recourse. "Please - I won't do it again! Master!"

"Tell you what: if you get down on your knees, put your cheek on the floor, and spread your legs like the slut you know you are, I won't punish you a second time."

Well, I really have no choice. Trembling, I do as he says and then wait.

The gargoyle isn't very tall, about the size of a dwarf or gnome, and if it weren't for magic it would never be able to fly with those stubby wings. Its face is still frozen in a lecherous grin with its tongue hanging out - or maybe that's just because it's looking at me? And its cock is as big as its forearm, strong and unyielding. Each step the creature takes on the stone floor is heavy, with a sound like a hammer striking. I have to wait in this position while it slowly moves around me, coming around to take one of my hips in each hand.

Suddenly, it slams into me, and I scream. I don't know what I was expecting, but the stone cock fills me on the first thrust, cold and hard, and it hurts more than anything Geoffrey or Michal did to me the day before.

"Now, thank me for every stroke," he orders, and I immediately whimper, "Thank you, master!" The gargoyle backs out, then fills me again. "Thank you, master!"

Geoffrey stands and watches the show for a few minutes. It must be very repetitive for him - the gargoyle has one steady rhythm that it fucks me in, bruising me all the way to my womb, and I say my line like clockwork - and he walks away soon without saying anything. I keep thanking him, though, because there are dozens of spells he could be using to monitor me.

"Thank you, master. Thank you, master. Thank you, master."

After some time, I have no idea how long, he comes back and leans against the doorframe, continuing to watch me with a small smile on his face. "Stop," he says at last, and holds up his hand. The gargoyle stops at the far point of a thrust, impaling me as much as he can. Geoffrey walks over to my head, still lying on the stone floor, flushed and sweaty. "I know this hasn't broken you," he tells me. "You won't break, not the whole way. But I think you've learned a valuable lesson today, and I hope we'll see a bit more obedience out of you."

"Yes, master," I breathe, and the gargoyle backs out of me. Without its hands holding me up, my back end collapses. With another wave of his hand, the gargoyle flies up to the doorframe and perches in the very center, freezing back into inanimate stone.

"Seeing him every day should help to remind you of what I can do. And the next time I want him, he won't be so far away, so it's a win-win situation." For everyone but me. He bends over to inspect me. "Hmm, a bit of blood in your cunt. Well, let it be a lesson, you did it to yourself." I can't even argue mentally with his logic, I'm too exhausted.

I don't know if he deliberately decides not to heal me, or if the thought never occurs to him, but I have to finish doing my menial tasks while scarcely being able to take a step. Fortunately, the kitchen is set up to prepare meals on its own and I only need to serve them to him, but my speed is a problem.

"I didn't tell you to bring me my food after it's cooled, Marradice," he snaps at me when I finally put the bowl of stew down in front of him.

"I'm sorry, master," I force myself to say. If the gargoyle got to have me again, it might break my pelvis.

"I suppose you think I'll go soft on you because you got a little punishment."

Before I can stop myself, I protest. "It wasn't a

little

punishment, master!"

"Don't you think I'd better be the judge of that? Get on the table, then." After a moment of hesitation, I comply and kneel in the center. "Stop being stupid, legs on either side. How am I supposed to inspect you?" Hurriedly, I kick my legs out so they hang over the long edges of the table. "And closer." I ease myself nearer and nearer to where he sits, until I'm practically bumping into the bowl. He reaches out and tucks my short skirt up into the waist of my dress's bodice so that he has a clear look at me.

"You're not bleeding anymore, I don't know what you're whining about. There's nothing wrong with you. Now, about this food." I can tell by his eyes that he knows very well that I still have reason to wince, but he enjoys this play-acting. He takes a piece of beef on his knife and holds it up, then plunges it into my open folds. It doesn't quite burn me, but I tense up and my mouth drops open as well. "Is that what you call hot?"

"It - it seems hot to me, master."

He harrumphs and starts eating without saying anything else to me. Every so often, he takes another piece of food - beef, carrot, potato - and stuffs it up inside me. They're all fairly hot, and I squirm but prevent myself from saying anything, my hands bracing me from behind so that I'm utterly open to anything he wants to do to me. Once he finishes eating we stare at each other, his gaze fixed on the food he's put into me. Finally, he looks up.

"What are you waiting for? Thank me for your meal and tuck in."

"Thank you, master," I murmur, and hesitate before peeling out the piece of carrot on the top and eating it. He leans back in his seat and watches as I take my dinner out of my cunt and eat it piece by piece.

"Are you sure you've got everything?" he asks with false solicitousness, and helpfully uses his wooden spoon to reach inside me and check that I really am empty. "Then clean up. Make sure you clean yourself, too. What a filthy slut I've taken on, you're covered with gravy."