Chapter Sixteen

“Holy shit, Konoha.” Frank gaped. “I told you to keep out of this. Why’d you do that?”

“My Lord instructed me to stay out of sight, and I obeyed.” A lavender-furred fox woman stepped out of thin air, startling Daphne. “A basic glamor hid me from detection until she threatened grievous harm upon you, Master. As your loyal subordinate, I responded using the resources at hand. No harm will befall you while I am by your side.”

“You could have warned her first. Or me. Jesus, what are we supposed to do now?” He flapped a hand towards Daphne in alarm. “She’s stopped yelling and dropped the weapon, at least, but binding a colleague against their will in a place with creepy dungeon vibes is a recipe for disaster.”

A dungeon. Icy prickles of fear ran up her spine. The basement archives did resemble an actual dungeon. The shadows seemed to darken at that revelation, and the tools on the floor took on extra malice.

Punishment, they silently promised.

The spreading warmth reached her trembling thighs.

“You may do whatever you wish, Master.” The fox woman, Konoha, insisted. “Sheng Li’s Thousand Heavenly Threads constrain her. She cannot struggle or resist.”

She really couldn’t. The vibrant silk cords stood out stark against her black, slim-fitting clothing. They were interconnected with golden clasps like a too-small harness that spanned and encircled her ample chest, crisscrossed over her thin waist, before looping down through the gap between her slender thighs, drawn taut enough to dig into toned flesh.

Every inch was secured so that even the smallest mico-twitch translated to rip-cord tension over one erogenous zone or another. Biting into her thinly covered tits or crushing the crotch of her designer jeans harder against her dampening nethers.

Sweetest agony scrambled her panicked thoughts. She wobbled on unsteady feet. Collapsing in the enchanted restraints would have dire repercussions.

“Sheng Li’s Thousand… wait, struggle?” Frank scrubbed at his hair, agitated. “That’s not what I meant! We’re not doing anything to her. But how am I supposed to explain this situation? It sure as shit doesn’t make me look the good guy.”

Daphne remained uncharacteristically quiet, slumping to her knees with a guttural groan. As she suspected, the sinful lines tightened and dragged across tortured flesh when she collapsed. Nerve endings shrieked as rough denim flossed her pussy, and stiff nipples were rubbed raw through the cotton shirt.

Torment and bliss scourged her sadistic soul. Neurons misfired as wires crossed in a brain more accustomed to dolling out pain than receiving it. A droplet of drool dribbled from Daphne’s lips when the seeping heat reached her parted folds and pooled there.

They both stared at her, Konoha tapping her chin thoughtfully.

With ankles tied and arms fixed to her sides, Frank’s musing expression suggested he found this meeker version of Daphne appealing, if not a reality he was remotely prepared to tackle.

Something about that look–the calculation on his stupid mug–stirred her insides. Here was a man who hated her. She could understand that. Daphne knew hate like an old friend. They‘d been BFFs since childhood.

She had earned his wrath. Over the last five years, she had purchased it on a payment plan of venomous insults, unveiled threats, and vicious acts of spite. Now she was securely in his grasp–utterly defenseless–he could hurt Daphne. Enact delicious vengeance upon her bound, quivering body if he only had the guts to break her.

She desperately hoped that he did. Her aching pussy screamed for it.

“Powerful men needn’t hide behind excuses, Master.” Konoha slid in behind Frank, draping her firm body and soft tails around him. Sharp claws gently raked his shirt, gliding toward his beltline. He visibly shuddered under her feather-light touch.“They take. They conquer. They forge kingdoms and legacies, carving their name into history with bold deeds and actions. Surely my Lord is such a man, yes?”

This furry bitch knew the score.

“I want to be…” His glowering gaze was cold. “But–”

Daphne’s racing heart plummeted into her boots at Frank’s mealy-mouthed prattle. What was the point of all this if he didn’t grow a pair, be a fucking man for once in his life and punish her?! The radiant heat crept up her belly, making it feel horribly empty, ravenous for something hard and rough to fill it.

A gentle glow shimmered from her bare midriff.

“You are brimming with potential, master. Surrounded by artifacts of vast arcane potency that merely require my touch to awaken. The strange magic you employed to restore me begs for release. It blends with my spiritual essence, scouring me with lust. Behold.”

The hand not cupping Frank's swelling bulge burst into ethereal flames before their eyes—blue flames edged with flashes of gold. Konoha shivered with arousal. Her cherry blossom aroma intensified, making Daphne’s head spin.

“Please, my Lord. Please, pleeease allow me to discipline this wicked woman. This vile harridan who dared to impune your honor and threatened **** upon your noble personage.” She implored, extending a burning finger toward Daphne’s bound form. “With a single touch, I can empower the bindings that hold her and reveal the lost secrets of Sheng Li’s sorcery to you.”

Looking down at her, Frank was clearly tempted.

Daphne knew she was a persistent source of friction, a psychotic angle grinder who took delight in dragging others through the mud. A bold-faced bully coasting through life on a pleasure craft built of intimidation, social exploitation, and her god-given attractiveness.

What more did Frank need?

He was balanced on a pinhead, ready to fall in whichever direction the next gust of wind blew. She gifted him an arrogant sneer, boiling internally with a thirst for **** and pain, praying that he would finally succumb to righteous brutality and shed the sheep’s clothing.

Praying that Frank would deliver her raptures of orgasmic punishment.

The Kitsune’s pointed fingertip hovered a fraction of an inch away from the shiny clasp between her pert breasts, burning brightly.

“No… no! This isn’t right.” Frank rallied his resolve, fighting off the fluffy cloud-like tails and groping hand. “She’s a shit heel, no question, but still a human being with rights and freedoms. Not a lab rat for whatever magic Sheng whatshisname imbued into some enchanted sex ropes, Konoha. Let her go. I wouldn’t **** this on my worst enemy. Hurting people isn’t part of my nature.”

“No, it’s part of mine.” Daphne gasped, jerking forward.

Her ample chest collided with the blazing digit, connecting with the silken bonds. They burned with spectral flames, incinerating her clothing and bathing the short-haired hellcat in glorious, blistering fire.

Daphne wailed in orgasmic anguish as the heat and golden glow consumed her.

“Christ, how’d I get into this mess?” Franklin massaged his temples. “Maybe we should just leave and never return. What’s the weather like in Mexico these days?”

Describing the basement as a disaster would be like calling the Vietnam War a minor dispute. Daphne’s short-lived rampage had done a bunch of damage. The place was a bomb site, with broken artifacts and equipment strewn about the floor, but that wasn’t his main concern…

“Stop being a limp-dicked pussy, Frank. Smack me around some. Really go to town on my bitchy ass. Grab my neck and **** me already!”

The bitchy ass in question was writhing in her crimson bonds. Inky bangs plastered to her high cheekbones, naked as the day she was born and radically changed.

“I don’t know, Master. What’s a Mexico? Regardless, this situation isn’t as bad as it may seem. Look how compliant she has become.”

“Pull out that tiny wiener and slap it on my face, wuss. Spank my dirty cunt until I shriek!”

“Really, you call that compliant?”

“In a manner of speaking, Master. Yes.”

When Konoha's magic enveloped her, Daphne had blazed hotter than a solar flare. The tight-bodied shrew convulsed and thrashed like a spastic marionette in the ghostly flames as her lean figure was warped and remolded into a scandalously eroticized shape.

She’d always had an almost unhealthy thinness about her. A heroin-chic appeal that verged dangerously close to gaunt. It highlighted her fine bone structure and worked well with her punk fashion propensities: ripped skinny jeans, tiny baby tees, tattered tartan skirts slung at an angle on her bony hips, and clingy singlet tops that left her pierced belly button on display.

All in dark colors to match her blackened soul, of course, and eternally shod in chunky combat boots. Presumably, to cap off the bull-dyke veneer and crack the shins of anyone who missed it.

None of that would fit the foul-mouthed woman panting on the cold cement anymore, and if she did manage to sqeeeeze into her old wardrobe, the results would be downright pornographic.

Firm flesh layered Daphne’s previously stick-like limbs, now sleek and smooth instead of wiry with soft muscle definition, while maintaining a three-inch thigh gap. Her small toosh and skeletal hips had rounded out into grabbable curves, and her torso tightened. The belly ring glinted on mouthwatering abdominals, where previously there’d been only featureless flatness beneath xylophone rib bones.

She remained brilliantly long and lean, less spindly, with no hint of fat anywhere… except her chest.

Daphne’s chest was, well…

“Holy Moses, Konoha. I’m glad you didn’t roast her to a crisp, but can you stop the swelling already? She’s liable to float away if they keep inflating like that.”

“This golden magic you gifted me is volatile, my Lord. I fear further tampering with the enchanted bindings will only exacerbate the matter.”

“Copping an eyeful, perv? C’mon, bite a nipple. Dig your fingers in and really smoosh them around. Have a sleazy grope, then slam your puny cock between my massive titties. They feel fucking amazing!”

Franklin couldn’t deny that Daphne’s ballooning boobage was… intriguing. He was clueless about the women’s cup measurements, but those expanding whoppers had to be cliff-diving through the alphabet.

Coils of red rope circled their cushiony circumference and spanned the deepening divide of milky cleavage, sinking into the buoyant tit-flesh and lewdly distorting their spherical shape. Her puckered peaks had graduated from pink eraser tips to rubbery thimbles pinned beneath the silk cords.

Whoever this mysterious Sheng Li was, he had apparently been a sexual degenerate. His Thousand Heavenly Threads ensnared Daphne completely, complex in design, digging into her flawless skin and arresting all movement.

Wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles–every joint was securely bound. A noose knot collared her slender throat, attached to a taut line that ran between those enlarging breasts and across a trim tummy to be swallowed by her moist feminine folds.

An insidious part of Franklin whispered to him. Urging him to action. Not for ****, which was petty and hollow, but for rightful retribution. Daphne’s constant stream of verbal **** was the cherry atop the shit sundae she’d served him that night.

Beware of him, who is slow to anger… well, she was fraying Franklin’s last nerve, causing years of accumulated acrimony to gnaw at his heart.

Daphne was demanding it. All but begging for it. Even if an uptight cunt like her couldn’t conceive of the notion. His cock lurched in Konoha’s skillful hands. She had resumed her position, hugging his side and teasing him over his clothing. Precum stained his pants.

“She’s getting rather loud, Master.” The kitsune batted Franklin with her fluffy tails, purring into his ear as she unzipped his fly. Constantly stroking. “You should silence her before someone inspects the disturbance.”

“How exactly? Don’t tell me Sheng Li’s big booby sex ropes come with a gag attachment.”

“Fuck, yeah. Shove a gag in my mouth, loser!” Daphne rolled onto her back, attempting to buck her hips at them–supple thighs glistening with her honey. The silken cords tightened, dragging out a wanton moan. “Maybe I should scream. The janitors would hear and call security. I’ll sob and tell them how some little dickweed who couldn’t get laid in a brothel and his cat-slut accomplice kidnapped me using unsanctioned magic to fulfill some sick sexual fantasy. Kiss your freedom goodbye and say hi to Bubba in Cellblock C for me, Frank.”

Frank.

She knew Franklin hated the informal address most of all and used it as another button to press, even now. It was like the cursed cunt was placed on this earth for the sole purpose of mocking him. Screwing with him. Making him feel weak.

Because–if Franklin was completely honest with himself–he was weak. A timorous, introverted personality who was more accustomed to being a human doormat than the star of the show.

Perhaps he belonged in the basement with all the other bygone relics after all.

It was a harsh truth. One that stung more than he’d care to admit. But it didn’t have to stay that way. People changed. And the catalyst of his personal growth lay heavy in his pocket if he could gather the courage to use it.

That and the fox-eared dreamgirl lovingly jacking him off with concern written large on her exotic Asiatic features, looking to Franklin for instruction.

“My Lord?” The Kitsune’s voice was quiet, unsure. His cock lurched in her grasp. Modest but manly. Not manly enough for Daphne, though. She continued to sneer. “She’ll ruin everything for us. What should we do?”

“Nothing, Konoha.” He withdrew Solomon’s silver amulet with numb fingers and clasped it around his neck. “Leave this to MEEEEEEEE~!”

Franklin’s hair stood on end as a lightning bolt of pure power grounded in his soul. Blinding golden light blotted out reality.

Advanced chapters can be read on my BuyMeACoffee page for the low price of a single cuppa Joe. Cheers, and happy reading!