Dark Lord in Chains 99 (Patreon)

Against a majestic phoenix looking angrily, most would have felt fear above anything, and the rare few that could suppress that fear would still play it safe, anxious to prevent an explosive reaction — a reaction that Cinder was clearly capable of, both in terms of power and in terms of attitude. 

I chose to go in a different direction. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you, sweetie?” I asked, only to receive a loud cry in response. I wasn’t sure whether calling it a shout was the correct term, as it wasn’t particularly loud in terms of the sound it created. 

However, it was different in terms of mana. The cry wasn’t accompanied by the living fire directly, but it still carried a metaphorical sense of pressure that hit every single construct in range,  including the wards that surrounded us, making them tremble badly. 

I intervened to maintain them, but if it wasn’t for the Tether allowing me to control the wards, they would have collapsed regardless. 

Another interesting ability of the transformation, one that she was clearly unaware of, but that didn’t save her from punishment. 

“You need to learn to wait for your turn,” I said even as I raised my hand, casting chains of ice. They were beautiful, intricate constructs, with no chance of surviving against her heat. 

But when I combined with reaching our connection to block her mana flow, the combination worked much better. 

Her flames suddenly dissipated, leaving her blinking in shock. Even her wings had disappeared, leaving her hair as the only source of flame on her body. Which meant my trick also doubled as a convenient experiment, showing that I had the ability to block a full transformation as well. 

Which was nice to know, but I didn’t focus on that. Not when her beautiful naked body was completely on display as the chains of ice wrapped around her limbs, immobilizing her. 

“But —“ she started, but even as she tried to answer, I cast another small spell, blocking her mouth with an ice gag. Her beautiful eyes widened in shock as I smirked at her, then looked down to Isolde, who was doing her best to recover from her recent climax.

But, her expression of pleasure wasn’t just one of carnal joy, growing more intense as her gaze fell on Cinder. Isolde was happy to see that she wasn’t the only one that was the target of my punishments. 

“A good way to punish a mage,” she said as she held my arm and pulled herself up, strong enough to balance herself despite her trembling legs. 

Her words didn’t surprise me. “Well, technically, she’s not a mage, but something else,” I suggested. Not that I expected Isolde to care much about the distinction. 

Isolde shrugged as she turned toward me, showing my guess was accurate. I chuckled even as she wrapped her arms around my waist, showing an uncharacteristic forwardness. Normally, she was happier passively accepting my invasion. 

But the possibility of punishing a mage was enough for her to ignore her preferences. 

I had no doubt that it was more about punishing Cinder, because even as she hugged me, she made me turn so that she could look at Cinder directly. 

I let her succeed, knowing that Isolde could anger her much more than I could, which worked excellently as a punishment. 

I still created a small mirror so that I could watch Cinder’s expression — partially to enjoy the show, partially to make sure I didn’t push her too much. 

Punishing her was a delicate affair, due to a beautiful combination of her sense of entitlement, her underlying complex of inferiority, and her beautiful newly discovered submissiveness. 

“Someone is feeling frisky,” I whispered to Isolde’s ear as she rubbed her hips against mine, her monumental wetness showing that, no matter how much she enjoyed punishing Cinder, it was just a side benefit to the main event. 

“I — I just want to punish her,” she stammered, not wanting to confront her own pleasure. 

I chuckled. “So, that means you’re hating what we are doing, right? Maybe I should stop, it’s not right to push you just to punish her.” 

Her hands dug into my shoulders painfully, showing just how much she disagreed with the idea. “N-no need,” she stammered cutely. “I’m willing to help.” 

“Oh, such a helpful little warrior, I’m so lucky,” I whispered, even as I grabbed her hips and lifted, impaling her with one smooth motion. Cinder’s eyes widened beautifully as she realized the extent of the show she was going to suffer, tugging her chains to free herself. 

Unfortunately for her, without the enhancements given to her by the living fire, she lacked the strength to free herself from the chains, making her suffer the punishment. 

But, since I wasn’t completely evil, I had made sure to leave a little range of movement around her legs, allowing her to move her legs enough to rub them against each other. 

It didn’t take long for her to discover that, doing exactly that to control her arousal, showing that being punished — even in such a distant manner — was not without its perks. 

“Faster,” Isolde murmured, who had been doing her best to quicken the treatment, only to be prevented by my grip around her hips, slowing her down. 

“Why,” I whispered. “Isn’t it just to punish her. The slower we go, the better.” 

“Right,” she murmured, her reluctance beautiful as she slowed down. But she managed to slow down only a few seconds before her hips burst into action once more, picking up speed. 

Only to be stopped by my grip once again. “Slow down,” I ordered, but I kept my tone playful rather than delivering it as a steely statement, amused by her chosen form of rebellion. 

She once again followed that order, though that only lasted until I shifted one of my hands, letting it climb up, trailing her spine as it climbed up, pushing her arousal to a new level with contrast. 

She let out a moan as she pushed her hips down once more, this time experiencing greater success as she competed against only one hand. 

I let her succeed momentarily as I once again turned my attention to Cinder, who was watching the show with growing frustration, her gaze bouncing between head level and waist level.

After adding a second mirror to see what was going on at my back, it didn’t take long to identify the source of her anger. Isolde was looking directly at her, her smile as vicious as it was wide. 

I had to give her credit. Maintaining that expression was difficult with her face invaded with pleasure. Luckily for her, the intensity of the pleasure just helped to drive Cinder’s anger deeper, enough for me to feel a tug of her magic despite the block I was maintaining. 

Her attempt to reach against that was intense, but the block held, which was another useful thing to learn about our connection. Whatever that was, it was nowhere as simple as I assumed.

Another nice unexpected bonus. 

I let her continue a while more, letting Cinder’s anger climb even higher. Isolde was not the best when it came to understanding others’ moods or manipulating them, but luckily for her, Cinder was not the best in hiding them either, giving her the feedback she needed. 

I let my finger caress back down as she continued to pick up speed, my earlier warning about staying silent completely forgotten. I let her act freely for a moment, rewarding her for her success to annoy Cinder.

Especially when Isolde’s mocking victory was much more effective than any punishment I could come up with for the bound beauty, her anger building into frustration as the desperate rubbing of her legs was nowhere near bringing her where she wanted to go. 

But as Isolde’s moans started to get more and more intense, I decided to intervene. “What did I tell you about the speed, sweetie?” I warned her, but she acted like she didn’t hear that, letting her hips dance even more intensely as she searched for the climax. 

The moan that she let out threatened to overwhelm the meadow. 

I might have accepted her disobedience considering how close she was to a climax, but I never had been particularly forgiving. 

“Maybe I should stop, if you’re not going to listen to my words,” I whispered. 

“No,” she gasped as panic invaded her tone, her legs tightening around my waist desperately. But that was still enough for her to reduce her speed to an acceptable level, which, at this point, worked perfectly as a punishment.  

I smirked, enjoying the unique feeling of punishing two girls at the same time, all without sacrificing even the slightest from my own pleasure.

Sometimes, life was truly beautiful.