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Zestial ran his hand over the looping rope that hung from the wall. He had several different colors, but only one he would use tonight. A deep red the color of freshly spilled blood, dyed by his own hands. After all, proper rope was hard to find with that ridiculous moth in charge of the majority of sex toys and accessories. The old overlord would only accept the best, and the best on the market was nowhere near his standards. Not to mention, it was barely strong enough to properly hold a regular sinner, let alone one with almost as much strength as he.
“Ah, thou art truly a sight to behold, Alastor. Red the color of blood is far more thou’s color than the brighter shades.”
A hum came from the chair placed in front of the fire, the younger overlord in question spread comfortably on the oversized furniture with his jacket hung off the back. Zestial took a moment to look over his shoulder at his companion. An elegant beauty to be sure, different to Carmilla’s in that it was far more vicious. Of course, both were merciless and artful in their own ways, but where Carmilla finished the job with little fanfare beyond what she thought deserved, Alastor took pleasure in turning it into a performance, messy and descriptive.
The old spider had missed the broadcasts that spun the city into a mass panic. Sure, some of the overlords Alastor had killed here friends of his, but the show their screams were played to were beautiful farewells. A shame the princess likely banned Alastor from more, not that there were many worthy of being on the broadcast.
Alas, this was not the time nor place. Zestial removed his chosen rope from the wall and turned to fully face the deer. Without warning, he shot webs at the sinner, trapping his arms to his torso and pulling him close. When he slammed into Zestial, the old spider wrapped an arm around Alastor to steady him. No need to bruises just yet.
“Well, that was rather rude.”
“And yet thou art here. Give thine a hand, if thou would.” When Alastor gives him an unimpressed look, Zestial squeezes. “Come now, thou knows better.”
With a huff, Alastor raised one of his hands as high as he could. Zestial removed his arm from the tiny waist and began to wrap intricate web ties between the fingers. Each web bent the fingers into a claw shape while also preventing them from moving. Alastor’s ability to clench or flex his fingers was gone by the time Zestial finished both hands.
“An exquisite job, my friend. Though I expect nothing less from you.”
“Yes, thine art a purveyor of the fine arts.”
Without further comment, Zestial shot a web to the ceiling in a complex, supportive pattern and further wrapped Alastor’s torso. This was only temporary, but it would work well enough to remove the deer’s feet from the ground while Zestial tied his legs. As Alastor relaxed into the wrap and suspension face up, the other lifted thin legs to remove the shoes, socks, and dress slacks, but he left the underwear in place. Sex was rarely the name of their game.
Once the clothing was removed and a leg in hand, Zestial began his intricate knotwork. A loop-chain stocking would look stunning on the brown faded to black skin and fur. The dark red made a lovely contrast. He started at the ankle, feeding rope through itself to create an anchor cuff before circling the bottom of the black calf, then looping it up and creating another circle and loop. He continued the process, took his time ensuring each loop was even and not too tight. When the loop-chain reached Alastor’s hip, he tied some of the excess off to keep the rest in place.
Moving back, Zestial circled up to Alastor’s head, “Yes?”
“Quite comfortable,” the deer assured. Their play would only start after he was trussed up and unable to move.
“Good.”
Circling back around, the old sinner repeated the process on the other leg and took another length of rope to slide through on of the loops at the deer’s left knee. Then, using his webs, he fed it through an anchor on the ceiling and tied the other end to the right knee, suspending the legs in the air.
Zestial moved back up to Alastor’s torso, gently freeing his left arm and ensuring he didn’t fall or slip out of the sticky webbing. Loosening some of the webs keeping the red clawed hand tilted forward, he reset it to pull in backwards, as if ready for a serving tray. Rather ingenious, Zestial thought to himself, to use a server tie after hearing the king had called his friend a mere bellhop.
Alas, the spider overlord looped a rope between the webs and pulled the hand back until it would go no further. He looped the rope around the back of Alastor’s upper arm and brought it around his forearm, looping back over the downward length of rope leading behind his upper arm before circling it just above the elbow and tying it off. He ducked under Alastor and repeated the process on the other arm.
“Ah, thy was correct. Thou art beautiful in the red of spilled blood. One last tie, then we may begin our fun.” Alastor merely smirked at Zestial’s words.
Stepping in close, the spider lifted the other until he was sitting back against his chest and dissolved the last of his webs. He removed the harness and shirt, leaving his chest bare, and looped another length of rope around Alastor’s front, just under his pectorals. He made a small knot in the back and ran the length over a boney shoulder and looped under the first wrap before going over the other shoulder. Then, it looped under the deer’s arm and over the top of his pectorals, circling back to the front, but over the opposite shoulder, into the knotwork at the back, and back up over the unlooped shoulder before going under the opposite arm to be tied fully off in the back.
An inverted star harnessed Alastor’s bare, light brown chest. Against the fluff on his chest and the scar, it looked like it had been carved into him with a scooped wood-carving knife. Exquisite. Yet, just a few minor adjustments left to the glorious picture in front of him. A rope wound through the base and shoulder lengths of the harness and anchored on the ceiling let Zestial step back, Alastor hanging suspended in mid-air.
Finally came the blindfold.
It was made of a mix of white web and black leather. The leather ensured Alastor would see nothing past it while the webbing acted as a strap and created beautiful patterns over the top of the leather. He slipped it in place, and took several steps back, quiet steps, for all Alastor’s sensitive ears could still hear the barely-there sounds. Still, he did have to strain somewhat for it, as Zestial had over a century’s worth of experience over the deer.
“How dost thou feel?”
Alastor hummed, “Rather nice. Shall we change that?”
Zestial smiled and summoned a pointed bar to his hand. Getting closer, making his steps loud, he stopped at Alastor’s torso, aimed, and stabbed the bar through Alastor's calves, through the loops in the rope stocking.
Alastor shouted at the sudden pain, writhing as best he could in his bonds. Zestial waited for him to calm before putting another through his thighs and listened to the delicious screams. He put a clump of webbing on the inside and outside of each bar, preventing them from moving and Alastor from shifting. He leaned down and licked up the blood that dripped from the webs.
“Thou taste exquisite, Alastor.”
A huffed gasp, “I do aim to please.”
“And does so quite well.”
Moving back, Zestial dug a claw into Alastor’s skin just above his groin and dragged it up until he was split open to the star harness. The deer only managed to stay still until the spider removed his claw and proceeded to writhe once more.
As he watched, Zestial brought his bloody claw up to his mouth and licked it clean. The deer overlord was one of the best tasting morsels he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. That they both enjoyed it was all the better. Alastor got someone who would keep him in check, remind him there are others out there far more powerful than himself, and Zestial got to play and tease.
Without a word, Zestial struck with speed and pierced Alastor’s side, digging until he could see his hand through the yet healing wound in the other’s abdomen. He used his free hand to ensure the deer didn’t squirm, though the screams were music to the older overlord’s ears.
“Yes, scream for thy master, Alastor. Such sounds are for thyself, and none shall ever experience this joy and live to tell.”
A whimper and then, “Y-Yes.”
“Good.” Zestial removed his hand and licked up the spilling blood as he waited for the wounds to heal. If he jostled the bars still in thin yet powerful legs, well, that was his prerogative. After all, the younger sinner’s pain was glorious to behold like this, freely given and ripe for the taking.
Onward it continued, Zestial would open a new wound, listen to the bugles and screams, lick up the blood, and wait for it to heal before he started the process all over again. He gorged himself on the bitter yet sweet and tangy blood, took enjoyment from the writhing and sounds of pain. Never too much, he refused to lose his favorite sinner of the 20th century, but enough that it kept Alastor delirious with it all.
Ripped open sides, stomach, back, he even opened pin prick wounds between the stocking loops to create patterns around the bars. However, Zestial’s favorite wound was when he slit open Alastor’s throat, peeled back the skin, and watched the muscles and sinew move with each gasp and scream.
It was only after that had healed that Zestial stood back, letting Alastor calm from the high and endorphins. He always did save the best for last. He waited for Alastor’s nod before removing the webs and then the bars, waiting once again for them to heal and Alastor’s consent before he began the slow process of bringing him down from the suspension.
He set the deer back on the chair he previously occupied and summoned a bucket of water and a rag to clean the sweat and spit off his skin. Alastor hummed, head leaning back heavily into the chair as he let himself be cleaned.
“I assume thou enjoyed thyself?”
The deer nodded, “Quite so. You truly outdid yourself this time, dear friend.”
“As thou aims to please, so dost thy. Rest, Alastor.”
Another hum rung through the air as Alastor let the crash take him and went to sleep. Zestial moved him to a guest room and left his clothes cleaned and folded on the dresser. He left and went about his night.