A Slave to the Reaper

-JULIA POV-

Every once in ten years, a new slave is given to the Grim Reaper as a reward for their efforts in hunting down the people who are supposed to lay dead when their time has passed.

In the underworld, there are demons of all kinds, the devil, and of course all evil souls. Then there's heaven, angels, saints and good souls.

But there's something much more exciting, and they are called Grim Reapers. They do not belong to hell nor heaven, but they do take God's orders. Grim Reapers simply exists, and they walk amongst humans, picking up souls.

To reward them, humans who have sinned are taken and are selected every ten years for Grim Reapers. There are many Grim Reapers in the world, but this one was the one I belonged to.

I had 8 years with him, chained down to anywhere he wanted me. I bend over when he tells me to, I kiss when he demands it, and I choke on his hands only. He had me at his will.

"Pick it up, Julia!"

I immediately picked up the crumbs he purposely dropped on the floor of his home.

I couldn't eat like he could. Souls can't eat or drink food, we'll regurgitate it.

So, I move to clean it up, hearing my chains rattle as I do. I was always shackled to some part of his home with my hands also in restraint, or sometimes it would just be my hands or feet that are shackled.

"I apologise, master."

I still say it as if I'm scared of him, because I am. I've watched this Grim Reaper countlessly pick up souls like they're loose change on the road.

I'm a dead evil soul with a body that's still capable of feeling everything, and fear was the main one, because my master was so unpredictable. It kept things exciting, but I still long for the time I will go to heaven. In 2 years, I will be released, and that means I can go to hell for a trial.

In this trial, my master, which is the Grim Reaper would deem if I'm fit to be reassessed and brought to heaven or be put in hell and suffer with the other damned souls. So, since my afterlife relies on him, it's best to keep him happy and pleased. I won't lie either, I do enjoy some of it.

"Come here."

His lifeless eyes of cold ash grey met mine as he tapped on his lap.

I stand up, feeling every link of the chain rattle with a heavy pull. Though I still manage to sit on top of his lap, as requested.

He puts his palm to my back, and I think he might just hit me like he normally does, but he doesn't. Instead, it's just his ice-cold hand on my back. I can feel it through the fabric, a sense of security.

It was an odd feeling, something I have never felt from a man like him.

That is until he pushed me off his lap, and I fell hard on my knees. The bricked floor scrapes my knees, but I don't bleed. Souls don't bleed, they're just torn. Though I do feel the pain, and I wince at it. But I don't let the tears prick my eyes. Master doesn't like that. He hates it when I cry.

"Let me see."

His tone is caring, but that smirk on his face is anything but.

I spread my knees to show him, and he grins before waving a hand and knitting my torn soul back together. So now I look as good as new, and that is how I always look perfect for him.

He hated seeing the aftermath of his nefarious inflictions on me, that he had the power to heal me, his slave.

"Thank you, master."

He shrugs, and then gives me a pointed look.

I already knew what he wanted. I've been with him for 8 long years.

I get into a kneeling position, my feet tucked under my butt as I feel the cold metal on my shackles press into my skin.

I put my hands on top of my head, and l arch my back, staying like that.

He made me kneel like this whenever he wanted.

"We have a lot of work today, hmm?"

He mentions, knowing that meant he was going to be away, collecting souls.

Humans could see us only when he wanted them to, but he never had time for friends. He was either working or with me. I've never seen any friends he had or heard him talk about any friends of his. Which made me feel a little sorry for him, but I did relate to him in that aspect, because I too had no friends when I was a human.

I was the only one by his side, and though for pleasure, over time, he started talking to me more often.

"Converse."

He demanded after he slammed his hand on the large glass dining table, the force of the impact causing the dishes and cutlery to rattle. My master had so much power over me, that it was futile to even fight against.

"Yes, master. I am at your service."

He enjoyed residing in a Spanish-style house, characterized by its rustic wooden beams and adobe bricks. The fireplace was always stocked with firewood, casting a warm glow throughout the space. Despite the warm and homely feel, every room had long chains hung ominously, waiting to shackle me.

"I heard there'll be a bombing in a children's hospital. Something about an upset parent."

He groans, as if completely weary of his job, yearning for retirement-but that's the issue: Grim Reapers can never retire. He'll forever bear the same appearance: pale grey skin, dark, haunting eyes, midnight hair of eternal darkness, and surprisingly rosy cheeks. The only thing he could change was that attitude, not that he would.

"You know I hate bringing in children."

"Yes, master. You find them annoying."

"And stubborn. "Where are we going? Who are you? If you're the Grim Reaper, why no scathe?""

He mocks them, and I want to laugh, but I don't.

Children were the most innocent, and out of all the human souls he took, he never liked taking children. Yes, they were whiny, but I knew that he also felt sorry for them.

"I always wear black, but should I change my shoes today? I'll be going around a lot."

"Yes, master. Perhaps running shoes then?"

He sighs, poking absentmindedly at his food.

"No, I'll just wear the usual. I look great in everything anyways, yes?

"Yes, master."

There was no point asking me, was there?

I notice my arms start to shake now; the position being held for far longer than I can endure. The strain sends tremors through my muscles, and a dull ache begins to settle in.

He notices it too, and I see a smirk spread across his face, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He revels in my weakness, finding pleasure in my helplessness.

With deliberate slowness, he stands up and begins to stalk toward me, his movements fluid and menacing. His shadow stretches out before him, creeping across the floor like a dark omen. Each step he takes sends a shiver down my spine, the tension between us thickening with every inch he closes.

"Go on, fall."

He taunts, waiting to see me fail.

His fingers trace my chin, and the glimmer in his eyes turns to a sadistic lure. He knows I can't take it for long.

He bends down, blowing at my face, wanting me to fall. There's a punishment that awaits me if I fall.

"Fall, Julia. I'll enjoy it.

I stay still, holding my position, and he still continues to taunt me.

"Two more years, and then I'll be saying where I think you should be. Heaven or hell?

I'm not sure."

He smirks, getting closer with his hands in his pockets and a stance so broad, it makes me quiver more.

"Maybe if you obey me and fall, I'll tell them to take you to heaven. Do you want to go there?"

I don't answer because I know he's bluffing, but that's when he strikes me across my face.

"Answer me!"

"Yes, master. I want to go to heaven."

"But you're not even being a good soul right now."

He mentions with a fake pout as he poked into one of my trembling elbows.

I want to fall, to give in, because it's too much to bear. I would rather have the punishment.

"I am good to you, master."

I try to defend, but he only grins, pocketing his hands and stepping back from me.

"Any moment now."

He mentions and he knows I'm at my breaking point, so l do fall.

Cradling my arms, I barely have enough time to recover before he grabs me by the hair and forcefully drags me over to his dining chair. He sits down and bends me over his lap.

He doesn't spank me yet. Instead, he roams his hand along my spine, each inch of me becoming electrified, and I can feel myself start to pulse with a desirable need. As if I was trying to call his attention to my wet self.

"I always win, Julia."

He says my name with so much angst that it makes me shiver and tremble at his touch.

"Please master, I'm sorry."

I manage to quiver out, but he only chuckles, and it send waves through me.

He pushes over my skirt, and I can feel the cold chill on my ass. I was never allowed to wear undergarments, so things felt even more chilling on a daily. I got used to it over the years, but I will never get used to his punishments.

He places a finger deep within me, burying it inside, and I cross my ankles to keep myself from falling off his lap. He's penetrating it so slowly in me, that it only makes me seep out more pre-cum on his finger.

I squirm when he puts his thumb in the hole of my anal, and that's when he clamps me down tighter, my breasts now pushing against his thighs.

"Stay still, or you'll make me late to work."

Grim Reapers can never be late. Time was a very important factor on their end, which is why they were granted the power to appear anywhere they please at any time.

I stood still as much as I could until he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. The speeds change from fast to slow and slow to fast. I can't keep up at the unpredictable patterns, that all I want to do is release on him, but I can't. He'll beat me for it.

Just when I start panting to hold it in me, he releases his fingers roughly.

I hear him push away his food from the table, the plate clattering at the other end before he grabs me and throws me on top of the glass table.

The coldness hits my back, and I feel the pain in my head rushing up and down.

He's whispering against my neck the words he likes to say. It might sound odd, but I like them too. I've never told him, but l like it when he says it.

"My little whore."

His voice is raspy before licking at my neck and flipping me around. My breasts now press against the glass table, keeping pressure on my already swollen and erect nipples.

"Such a perfect little slave."

I was his perfect little slave, his whore.

"You're so easy to play with, Julia."

He pulls my hair back, and I moan, desperate to feel something in my throbbing core.

"Spread your legs, slave."

I do as he asks, and then a powerful slap strikes on my folds. I shudder, and I release, feeling me cum drip down my bud.

He's obviously upset now, but l couldn't help it. He slapped it out of me.

"Bad little whore."

"No, no, no, please! I didn't mean to, master!"

I begged him as my legs shook beneath me and my toes crunched.

"You never asked for permission to cum and I never said you could."

He reminds me, and my mind goes to that place in the basement. I don't want to be there.

He pulls me up by my hair, gripping it hard and readying myself to face him.

"How about a week in the basement?"

My eyes were wide, and I pulled myself to his feet, kneeling.

His hands no longer in my hair, I started to kiss his feet.

"Please, master. I will do anything you desire. I am yours to play and use, master."

I glance up, and he shrugs at me.

"Then let's try it again. Remember the rules well, slave."

I nod excessively.

"Bend over."

He commands, and I stand back up to bend over on his dining table.

My stomach is flat against the cold glass table. I hear some shuffling, and then I feel a napkin grace my folds gently. He's wiping up my cum.

At first, I think he's going to penetrate me with his fingers again, but something else so foreign is on me and in me, something I've never felt before from him.

It's wet, and warm, but also soft and hard at the same time. It's smooth against my folds. I feel him tug me closer with his strong arms. It felt so thrilling that I screamed, wanting the pleasure to be released, but can't.

I feel something just then poke at me anal, but nothing goes in.

Just then, I feel a powerful pull against my bud and then sharp scarping, and that's when I realised, he's eating me. He's licking, sucking, and eating through my wet slick folds.

My moans become uncontrollable that all I want to do is release on him.

"Please master..."

I'm trying to finish my sentence, but my body only arches my back deeper.

"Please master, let me cum for you."

I finally get the sentence out, and then I feel a light peck on the plump curve of my ass before his torturing whisper of an answer.

"No."

I whimper, unable to know how long more I can take it. Especially when he begins to suck ferociously at my bud and then finger me in both my needy holes.

"Please master! Please!"

He removes his fingers and then at a speed unknown to man, he rubs my bud, encircling it with power, control and fast ferocity.

I'm an uncontrollable slave moaning away as I scream out my master.

"Please master!"

"No."

I want to cry, but I don't, because master hates it when I cry.

He suddenly removes his hands, leaving my folds burning more, My release is near, but because he doesn't give me his permission, I still need to hold it in, every drop of it.

"Spread your legs wider."

He says in a cold tone, but I do it anyways. Now the cold air hits my sensitive bud, though nothing is done. I just stand there, bend over, waiting for a command.

"Stay."

He demands before leaving me there for a good ten minutes.

When he comes back, he puts something into my pussy.

It so large, wide, and hard that I yelped. I'm not used to that. It was always him or his fingers, not whatever he's putting in me.

He only pushes it deeper, and I feel my walls stretch.

"Ah! It hurts master!"

"Good, maybe you'll learn from your mistakes better."

He then puts something in my mouth, it's a rope with a knot.

"Bite on it."

I do as he commands.

"Stand up."

I get myself off from the table, but then as I stand, I feel a push from that gigantic thing he put into me, and it pushes deeper within me.

He's smiling as if he's so proud.

I can't speak, and I can tell he's enjoying this.

"You'll kneel all day until I get back. If you stand up, it'll only press deeper inside you."

He chuckles before pushing me down to kneel, which I do. My hands shackled, my feet shackled, and now I kneel with a thick block in my pussy.

"There's plenty of length on that toy that you haven't consumed. Want me to show you?"

I shake my head no, but he does it anyways.

He pulls at the rope from my mouth, and it pushes deeper within me. I let out a groan at how it's pushing and stretching at my limits.

"Stay like this until I'm home."

And of course, I would have to obey.