Page 8

8

Pixie

T he food is fucking divine. And I eat until I’m fit to explode. The turkey. The vegetables. The wine and liquor. It’s all perfection.

Holy shit… I never knew food could taste like this. We sit around our table and share stories, laughs and jokes. We drink, and they pull me onto their laps, taking their turn at having me in their arms. I sink into them all. Into their strong arms. Their broad chests. Their solid embraces.

And I am so fucking happy I could cry.

Archie tells stories that his pack used to tell on Christmas. Dorian does his best to manipulate his shadow to cast shapes on the wall to accompany the tales. And Shaw and I do our best at adding sound effects.

But when Archie tells the tale of a lost star that fell to earth on Christmas and finally found a family when she met a wolf, we’re all absorbed in the likeness of our own trial to find our pack.

But we did.

And what a strange little pack we are.

The sun has set when we finish telling stories and singing songs. I peer out of the window. The snow has reached the window now. I’m pretty sure we’re snowed in.

I admit I have no issues with being trapped in our cottage. Just us and nothing to do and nowhere to go.

I pick up the plates and am ready to start tidying. But Shaw holds my hands in place and shakes his head.

‘I think it’s time for dessert.’

Archie lets out a low chuckle, and when I peer back at him, I see a look I know well.

‘Shaw. What do you say we lay your wife down on the table and fuck her until she can’t walk?’ he asks.

‘I think that’s a fantastic idea, Archie. I think my wife would love that very much.’

I’m thrown onto the table, and they slowly stand around me. My insides swirl with excitement as they all look down at me.

They are my predators. I am their prey.

Their Pixie.

‘You have a beautiful wife, Shaw,’ Dorian admires.

‘I certainly do,’ he agrees. ‘Tie her down.’

Dorian takes my wrists and secures them above my head to the legs of the table. Archie grips my ankles and pulls them down until my backside meets the edge of the wood and then secures them in place.

My heart rages in my chest, and my mouth becomes unbearably dry.

‘Look at you,’ Shaw sighs, looking me up and down. He grips my dress and tears it off me, leaving me naked and stretched out before them. ‘Yet again, you’re our little pixie, tied up and ready to be torn apart for our desires. But you will never beg for death again, my wonderful wife. This time, you will beg for more. And then you will beg for mercy.’

‘Trust us?’ Archie asks.

‘Completely,’ I reply, my voice already trembling.

Shaw reaches into my hair and pulls free the clip Dorian gave me. My hair falls free, and he removes the hidden needle. I watch its sharpened edge as it goes down to rest on my arm.

‘Another Christmas gift for you,’ he says. ‘If you want us to stop, say stop. Understood?’

I nod.

‘Count, Pixie. I want you to count.’

He cuts. Not deep and not for long, but just a little and enough to draw a few beads of blood.

Images flash behind my eyes as they always do. He grips my cheek and forces me to look at him.

‘Look at me and count.’

‘O-one,’ I manage.

He cuts again. Just the same as before. Not deep. More a scratch.

‘Two.’

Dorian’s mouth seals around my clit as Shaw cuts again.

‘Three,’ I whisper. Tears build in my eyes as Shaw caresses my cheek and looks deep into my eyes.

His eyes shimmer with green specks, and the pain I feel lessens.

He’s invoked the marriage union to claim half the pain.

Dorian’s tongue swirls between my legs, and I writhe against him.

Cut.

‘Four.’

Archie’s palm caresses my breasts. His touch is firm and demanding as he pinches and rolls my nipples in his fingers.

Cut.

I steady my breathing, allowing the pleasure of Dorian’s tongue and Archie’s touch to distract me from the flashbacks. And the intense, unyielding gaze Shaw offers as he cuts me tells me one thing.

I am not alone. And I will never be alone again.

‘Five.’

Dorian eases in two fingers and slowly fucks me as his mouth works me.

I shudder as the pleasure builds and mixes with the pain I share with Shaw.

‘Keep your eyes on me,’ Shaw whispers.

Cut.

‘Six.’

Archie’s fingernails glide down my abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before leaning down and taking my nipple into his mouth.

Cut.

‘Seven.’

‘Good girl.’

Cut.

Dorian adds another finger and sucks harder.

‘Eight,’ I moan, my body trembling with need and heat.

Cut.

I can’t form words as I look desperately into Shaws eyes, seeking out his comfort. His assurance.

He nods.

‘Nine!’ I cry out, and as I cum, he cuts again.

I pant, letting the pleasure wash through me.

‘Ten,’ Shaw completes, smiling as he watches me ride out my orgasm. ‘A few months of that should help the flashbacks, hmm?’

I start to cry, overwhelmed by everything. I know he didn’t want to do that. But he did because I asked him to.

I loved putting my trust in him. My safety. My consent.

It’s a huge relief.

He kisses me and stands, watching as the shallow cuts already begin to heal.

Dorian leans over me and eases his cock into me. I blink up at him, adjusting to him as he enters me up to his hilt.

His front meets mine.

‘Eyes on me, Poppet. Ready?’

I nod, and he lowers himself on top of me, resting a huge amount of his weight on my frame. His hands grip the table's edge above my head so hard the wood creaks.

Images of him standing over me, placing those crushing stones on my body, flicker behind my eyes.

‘I love you,’ he whispers in a firm promise as he starts to move slowly. ‘I love you, Poppet. Trust me. Let me show you that you have nothing to fear from me. I will never hurt you again.’

He replaces those flashbacks. Him, now. Not him, then. His eyes are filled with life and love. Passion and possession. Compared to the eyes I see when he’s placing those stones on me, which are full of hatred and disgust.

No, I tell myself. Not me. He didn’t put those stones on me but on Dhalia.

It was her death I relived. He did those things to her . Not me.

I focus on his eyes, and I return entirely.

To our home. To my Shadow Master.

To his weight on me as he fucks me on our table.

He lifts himself a little so I can fully fill my lungs. As I do, I continue to cry, a strange sense of relief and despair swelling inside me and bursting out through all the cracks I just can’t fix.

‘Again?’ he asks.

I can’t speak, so I nod, and he gently lowers himself back down onto me and fucks me deeply. The table groans below us, and the whole house shifts as I spill out the raw emotions through gasping sobs.

Dorian pushes himself up and stands, keeping himself buried inside me and continuing his hard thrusts, slamming into me relentlessly.

Archie slowly walks up to my head and looks down at me. He removes his belt and lets it dangle at his side.

‘Lift your head, Pix.’

I do, and he slides the belt underneath. I peer up at him, and just like the two others, he never breaks eye contact with me. Not even as he loops his belt around my neck.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘Eyes on me.’

Again, I nod. And he tightens the belt.

I’m swinging. Hanging at the end of a rope. It creaks above me as I go wide, my feet dangling meters above the ground.

And when I swing back, I land in Archie’s waiting arms. The rope loose around my neck. I blink, and I’m back home. His forehead is on mine. His eyes bore into mine. His breath mingled with mine.

The belt is loose. I don’t think it stayed tight for even a second.

‘I’m right here,’ he says. ‘You’re not Sinthia. That was her death. Not yours.’

Dorian is still fucking me, and Shaw is holding my hand.

‘Not the belt,’ I manage, my voice hoarse and desperate. ‘Archie, I can’t.’

It’s off before I’ve even finished saying his name and his lips replace the feel of leather. He kisses every part of my throat it touched.

Shaw starts to untie my hands.

‘Don’t!’ I look up at him. ‘Don’t stop. Just… no belt.’

‘His hand?’ Shaw asks. ‘Could you manage his hand?’

I nod, and Shaw rests Archie’s fingers at my throat.

Gently, he clenches. Flickers of the flashbacks start, but Archie kisses my mouth, and I return. He loosens his grip briefly before tightening it again.

Three times he does this before he lets go entirely and lands me with a possessive and desperate kiss. The kind of kiss shared between two bound souls who have been parted for too long.

He lets out a little whine like a sad puppy, clearly upset that I struggled.

‘I’m sorry,’ I cry. ‘I won’t ask you to do it again.’

His fingers wrap around my throat.

‘You need this. I’ll do it. No matter how much I hate to see you suffer.’ He smiles a little. ‘I’ll be gentle. Ish. Open your mouth, Pix.’

My lips are trembling as they part. He holds me in place as he releases his erection and fills my mouth.

He just rests his hands on me. He doesn’t squeeze again and I grow accustomed to the feel of his fist.

I can take this time to enjoy my men.

Archie looks down between my legs.

‘Your wife has a hole in need of filling, Shaw. Dorian has her pussy. I have her mouth. But her poor little arse is ever so empty. You can’t deprive her, can you? Not at Christmas.’

‘No. I can’t.’

Shaw stands beside Dorian and they work together to both penetrate me. Shaw in one hole. Dorian in my other.

I grunt as I adjust around them, my moans being strangled and stolen as Archie fucks my mouth.

Dorian reaches over and grabs something.

He hands one to Archie. One to Shaw. And keeps one for himself.

I watch as he admires the peeled chestnut between his fingers. And with a dark look at me, he pulls out of my pussy, and pushes it… inside !

I lie there stunned, eyes wide and utterly shocked that the shadow master just put a fucking chestnut inside my vagina.

And when Shaw takes his and slowly eases it inside, too, I go to ask what the actual fuck they think they’re doing?!

But Archie holds me in place, silencing me with cock, and leans over.

Yep. I end up with three chestnuts up there. They’re all smiling, and part of me knows that this is something they spoke about beforehand.

Dorian resumes fucking me. They all do. And when Dorian climaxes, he grunts and growls his release. When he pulls out, he comes to my head and takes possession of my mouth.

‘Clean me up, Poppet.’

Archie takes Dorian’s place between my legs, slamming into me hard as he plays mercilessly with my clit. Shaw is still in my arse, and I’m climaxing hard in a matter of minutes.

And so is Archie, pumping himself to completion with deep and long thrusts.

When he slows, Shaw removes himself and empties a jug of water over his cock, cleaning himself off. Archie comes to me to be cleaned, and Shaw takes his place between my legs.

He runs his fingers up my core and slides them, warm and dripping, into my mouth. I lap it up hungrily before returning to Archie with my tongue, licking him slowly up and down.

Shaw eases into me. Cum seeps out around him, and he moans in pleasure at the feel of it.

‘So fucking full already, wife. Dripping two other men’s cum as I fuck you. Perfection.’

‘You really enjoy calling me your wife, don’t you?’ I laugh.

‘Amongst other things.’

He starts to fuck me, his hands gripping my thighs as he ruts into me.

‘My whore.’

Thrust.

‘My Pixie.’

Thrust.

‘My goddess.’

Thrust.

‘My witch.’

Thrust.

‘My. Fucking. Wife.’

He goes hard, making me pull against the restraints as he screws me.

The door to the cottage is suddenly thrown open. We all turn, and to my horror, I watch five men storm inside.

The one up front bellows loudly. ‘We demand the earth witch! Give her to us and…’ He looks at us all in turn. ‘What the…’

I don’t know who is more startled. Us, at the sight of actual people on our island. Or them, bursting in to see me, naked, tied up and being well and truly fucked on one end and sucking cum and arousal of two cocks at my other.

Either way, we’re all silent as we stare at each other.

And to make it even more ridiculous, we’re all still in matching red hats.

‘Shaw. Finish with Pix.’ Archie stands tall and faces the intruders, all in raggedy green robes, identifying them as members of an earth coven.

They have no magic. Not now I’m the earth goddess.

So they’re armed with swords and daggers instead. They’re even dressed in steel armour.

Dorian steps away from me and faces them, too.

Both are utterly naked, and their opponents are not only armed but protected by metal.

And I know without a doubt.

These witches don’t stand a chance.

All hell breaks out. Swords fly. Bodies slam into one another. Bones break. And my cottage gets trashed as Dorian and Archie hurl these idiots around like they’re ragdolls.

‘Untie me!’ I demand, pulling at my bindings.

‘No fucking chance,’ Shaw laughs. ‘I’m not finished yet, and neither are you.’

He continues fucking me.

I watch on as Archie shifts only his claws and, with a vicious swipe, slices the man's throat. Blood sprays absolutely everywhere. Clearly, the attacking earth witch’s heart was racing as the spray even reaches me. Warm droplets land on my stretched-out torso, and I glare at Archie.

‘Do you fucking mind?!’

‘Sorry, my love,’ he chuckles, clearly not sorry at all as he resumes slashing at the dying man, not stopping until he lands in a heap, cut to ribbons. And then he moves on to the next.

Dorian holds his own form of elegance, especially when he slams his fist into one man's chest and wriggles his fingers as it emerges through the other side. Dorian steps back and watches as the man looks down at the gaping hole in his chest, blinks at it, and then looks back at Dorian with a quizzical brow.

Thud.

He falls down. And stays down.

‘Hey!’ Shaw gives me a sharp little slap, returning my attention to him. He grips my face, refusing to let me see anything but him. ‘You watch me when I’m fucking you, Pixie.’

I hear the death and carnage that invades our home, and I realise that the guys are enjoying themselves immensely. That perhaps their years slaughtering witches may have left them with a lust for it, and that being here with me may have been missing the violence that they have become accustomed to.

More grunts and yells of pain. The unmistakable sound of tearing flesh and squelching of blood.

Shaw runs his fingers up my stomach, smearing the droplets of blood left there, making a morbid finger painting on my flesh.

There’s such a darkness in his eyes as he does. As he smears a dead man’s blood on me and fucks me to a chorus of screams and slaughter.

And I relish in that darkness. I find another slice of the peace they bring. More than the cottage. The comfort. The sex.

But a home for the darkest part of me.

The part that climaxes as I watch him draw on my skin in blood and hear my two other men devastate those who came to claim me for their own.

He watches me scream in pleasure, and such excitement and hunger fills his gaze.

He cums, grunting and spilling into me.

He slows and turns to look at the small battle coming to a gory end. He moves my head, making me look, too.

Dorian crushes the head of the last man standing.

And under Archie’s foot is the last man left alive, struggling to breathe as Archie presses his foot down on his neck.

His fate will be the worst because the only reason they would keep him alive is for information.

And my men don’t ask their questions gently.

‘You cum in her yet?’ Archie asks, still grinning even as blood drips from him and the witch under his foot struggles to earn his freedom.

‘Yes.’

Shaw breaks my bindings and eases me up. On my feet, he kicks my legs apart and rests his hand between them.

‘I’ll be needing those chestnuts back now, wife.’

‘W-what?’

I sway and he steadies me.

‘We want those chestnuts we put in your cunt back. Now, do as you’re told. Push.’

I push and feel cum seep down my thighs. After a few tries, the first chestnut comes out. He looks at it and hands it to Dorian.

‘This one is yours.’

Dorian takes it. There’s a D scored into it. He presses it to my lips.

‘Eat,’ he orders.

‘Excuse me?

‘Eat it. Now.’

His command is firm and without compromise.

My lips part, and I do as commanded.

I eat it.

Shaw flicks my clit, pulling me out of the shocked state I find myself in.

‘Next one, please.’ He nods to his waiting hand.

The second one comes out. He looks at it and hands it to Archie. Dorian takes his place, holding down the witch so he can claim it. Archie holds it to my lips, and I don’t wait to be asked.

I eat it.

The third one falls into Shaw’s waiting hand, and he offers it to me.

‘That’s a very good girl,’ he whispers when I do what I know he wants me to do.

He kisses my forehead and faces the last remaining witch.

‘Now then. I have some questions for you,’ he says, menace dripping from every word.

‘F-fuck you!’ the witch spits back, still struggling under Dorian’s foot.

‘Take him to the woodshed, Dorian. I don’t want to spill any more blood here.’

‘Any more?’ I look around with a raised brow. There are body parts, blood and entrails covering the walls, floors and even the ceiling! ‘You’ve ruined the cottage,’ I complain. ‘Look at the mess!’

‘We’ll sort it, Poppet,’ Dorian grunts, hauling the witch to his feet and gripping him by the back of his neck. ‘It will be good as new in no time.’

He leaves through the still-open and splintered door. Peering out, I see two more dead outside with bloody foam and bile spilling from their mouths.

My familiar slithers in past Dorian.

‘She only got two,’ he says. ‘You losing your touch, little snake?’

‘She left the rest for you,’ I correct him, feeling the indignity of the accusation from her. ‘Her Christmas gift to you.’

‘Such a generous little thing you are.’ Archie reaches down, and she slithers up his arm. ‘Good snakey. And we didn’t get you anything for Christmas.’ He looks at me and smirks. ‘But we may very well have given your mistress something a little extra. We’ll get started on the witch outside.’

He leaves, taking Poppy with him, and I look at Shaw pulling on his coat.

‘I feel like that chestnut thing had a purpose. Was it Archie’s idea?’ I ask.

‘Of course it was Archie’s idea.’ He sweeps my hair from my face. ‘It’s a pack thing he wanted to do.’

‘And when do you eat a chestnut covered in cum?’

He simply laughs.

‘What was the purpose, Shaw?’

He rests his hand on my stomach, where blood is slowly drying.

‘It’s an offering. A promise.’

‘Of what?’ I ask.

‘That when the time is right, you’ll have our child.’

I step back and laugh nervously. ‘I can’t. Technically, you and Dorian aren’t even human, and Archie can only mate with another wolf.’

‘Hence the chestnuts. Who knows if it will work, Pixie. But it’s fun to try, huh?’

‘Do I get a say in this?’ I argue.

Dorian returns.

‘He’s ready for you. I’ll stay with her.’

‘Of course, you will,’ Shaw laughs.

‘We’re not done here!’ I snap.

He leaves, patting Dorian on the shoulder as he passes.

‘You can start cleaning up as I torture this one for information. A very merry Christmas indeed.’

Dorian turns to look at me as I fold my arms and glare.

‘Don’t look at me like that. It was Archie’s idea. I just wanted to see you eat them. It was very fucking sexy.’ He shrugs. ‘It won’t work, Poppet. Don’t worry.’

‘It better not. Or you’ll find yourselves single dads with a witch-shaped hole in our front door.’

‘Hmm. We’ll see. Are you going to help me clean this up?’

He sees my frown.

‘Fair enough. I guess I’ll get to it by myself.’