Imogen
My third addition to my undead harem was Jin. A beautiful South Korean man who had been hiding from the world until he found me.We had our own dark understanding of one another, and he had become obsessed with me without even realizing it.
Jin was brought in by Ginger, the Ringmaster's wife. He'd been with the circus for nearly a century. When the witch placed her curse upon Cirque Diabolique, she also placed it upon any living creature within it, bounding them to it. Jin was a casualty of it.
He'd been forced to succumb to the witch's desires and one night, it finally killed him. He looked so beautiful sprawled out in the water like that. His pale skin shining in the moonlight, his eyes blank as he stared into nothingness. He moved me in more ways than I could speak. He had since the first moment I saw him.
The way he danced on the stage was sensual, powerful, invigorating. He kept the audience in his own personal seductive trance. Other than me, the only other person who held power like that was the Ringmaster. But Jin was special. He spoke to people with his dance.
The way his taut muscles stretched, the way his body contorted to the music, all to end in a climax of emotions that dropped people to their knees. Only then would he pull a woman up onto the stage. At that point they were compliant and willing to do anything for him.
Taking the most delicate of ropes, he'd tie them up slowly, creating the most exquisite knots. See, Jin was a master in Shibari, or Kinbaku which he preferred to call it. It was a method used to restrain captives and torture them, that is until it was then used in bondage. The reason he preferred the word Kinbaku was because it meant "the beauty of tight binding.”
And it was oh, so beautiful.
The women would sway against him, lost in desire. He never touched them, the rope would hold them, and seduce them. He'd tie braids of rope that ran down their spine and around their waistline, knots then when pulled and adjusted would sweep across their clit and make them purr.
His silver dyed hair would shimmer under the blue lights. His sharp jawline tense, his eyes focused as he worked.
He knew exactly where to tighten the rope, if she whimpered, she enjoyed it, if she moaned for him, he'd smile. They'd dangle there, being hugged by those ropes as if they were in a cloud of warmth that he'd created. That was how he'd make them feel loved and cared for.
The best was when he'd lift them up in the air. Pulling on the ropes so their body would form different shapes against the lights and shadows. The women would writhe while their partners below awaited eagerly.
When the show was done, Jin would call up their partner and guide them to where they needed to stand. He'd lower the woman's body, men's too, until they were in a position that was comfortable to them, and that's when he'd step back, allowing for the lovers to touch, to fuck, to love one another on that stage while he watched from the shadows.
A Kinbaku voyeur. I often wondered if he'd ever known love before and if that was why he never touched anyone.
My show,La Petite Mort, became an obsession for him. My incantations spoke to Jin, but I didn't find that out until later. He'd surprised me when he came willingly up onto that stage one night. I merely watched and waited as he dragged the rope across the stage and stood behind me. His warmth enveloped me and for the first time, I watched him touch flesh.
My flesh.
He wrapped his arms around my middle and kissed my neck.
"Arms up, my Goddess."
I did as he asked, hypnotized by the low husky orders he delivered. He ran warm strong hands down my body. I wasn't thin, I was curvaceous with wide hips, a slight belly and plenty of roundness to my ass. I loved my curves and he seemed to enjoy them even more as his hands memorized every inch of me. Peeling off the sheer black dress I wore, he dragged his fingertips up along my black thigh highs and made me shiver.He was so gentle with me, yet when he twirled me around, he made it known he was in control.
His long lean fingertips spread my ass cheeks apart, and he licked me there, just one quick swipe that made me moan. He didn’t linger for too long, just wanted a taste of me as he pinched my nipples and I undulated against him, feeling the hardness in his pants grow.
That's when he began his dance, forcing me into his trance. I allowed it because to me, he was beautiful. As he danced, he moved the rope in the most intricate ways to cause me arousal. This was different than what he’d done with the men and women in the audience. His touch was also present in this show. His knuckles grazed my tender nipples after he tightened the rope around them. His fingernails ran across my ass as he swept rope along my inner thighs, his breath was at my neck, puffing in exertion as he pulled the rope around my neck. Not tight, just enough to make me believe he could snap it if he wanted to.
That simple movement, that sexy snap of his wrist, made my core gush. He worked his way down my body, his muscles tensed, his abs rippling as he lined it with rope. He went up my legs and ankles, a kiss being placed in worship at my feet.
Slowly I began to sway toward him, my body responding to the quick brush of his knuckles, my senses heightened to the feel of his mouth on me. I'd somehow given up control to this beautiful man. When I stared down into his dark eyes, he smiled up at me before heading to the pully system.
I was lifted and moved in this puppet-like dance that made me writhe against the rough contours of the rope. I was his personal marionette that night and I knew when I was let down it would be into his arms.
He pulled on the ropes, putting me in a cradle like position as he lowered me. I was vulnerable, and exposed, barely able to move, and he knew that.
He moved toward me, like a tiger roaming his prey. I struggled against the rope, writhing and arching my back in eagerness.
He slid his hands across my body until he got to my ankles. Lifting my legs, I dipped easily into the ropes and cried out as his tongue grazed my clit. I was sensitive, I'd become pliant and needy. He sucked and licked at me lovingly. Long, deliberate laps of his flattened tongue that ended in me quivering and begging him for more.
The crowd was murmuring, my power wielding over them, an electric current that mixed with that darkness that lurked around us. I felt the demon approach and Jin's head shot up. He frowned, grabbing onto the ropes at either side of me.
That darkness swept over us, seemingly eager to control him more than me. A sinister laugh echoed, and I knew the succubus had come to play her games. I could hear her whispers in his ear. Luring him, tempting him to spill blood.
Jin's face looked darker now, provocative, angry. Sliding his cock in his hand, he began to tug on it while he watched me. Teasing me while I whimpered and strained against the ropes.