by Regina Watts
Jaw set, I obliged her, the scourge cracking in the air before thudding sharply against her flesh. Now she screamed, gasped in pain, but still it was edged with pleasure and her mingled tones only increased my ache. I yearned to bury myself inside of her right then and there—especially as, moaning to observe the sight, my mistress called over one of the nearby elf girls. While Valeria drew high the gauzy fabric of her barely-there gown, the nubile elf knelt between her splayed legs. Soon the slave was at eager work, lapping and teasing and fingering the priestess’s shining glory while I hammered the scourge against the tender skin of Coral.
Inspired by the sight of my mistress, the durrow spread around the chamber called upon their own slaves—more avidly caressed their friends, kissing and pulling away clothes that were already by and large mostly removed. Even the elf-girl I whipped began, whimpering, to touch herself, unfazed by the thought of doing so before the entire room. If anything, the audience seemed to urge her on as it did all the other durrow; as it did my arm.
“Harder,” begged the elf girl, panting amid the caresses of her fingers and the hard strikes of my lash. “Oh, yes, Paladin—”
“I can’t do it any harder,” I told her, snapped somewhat to my senses. I lowered the device. “I can’t—I’ll truly harm you.”
Someone in the room made a noise of displeasure—above and beyond Coral, that was, who whined quite beautifully—and I looked helplessly toward my mistress in an ill-advised attempt to find some sympathy. Instead the Materna gasped, pressing the head of the elf all the more tightly against the apex of her thighs while looking me right in the eye. “Felina,” Valeria managed with a glance toward the elegant durrow being fondled by the short-haired one, “why don’t you show my new slave that a hard whipping can be very pleasurable indeed.”
“Oh, happily—I’ll be back in a moment, Junia.” Kissing her short-haired friend, Felina stood and extended her hand for the whip. The elf, still swaying, stumbled toward newly-freed Junia and fell upon her knees at her mistress’s side. While I passed the whip to exquisite Felina, she looked upon me with almost savage delight and told me, “Strip.”
With one more, far quicker glance toward my mistress, I obeyed; soon I stood naked, my desire for the women around me exposed, my muscles wound tight with the tension of the whipping in which I had been engaged. A few of the women produced noises of approval and Valeria in particular let me see her eyes upon me while I stared down lovely Felina. The durrow tried the lash in the air and, with an audacious other hand, reached out to tug a few times on my length.
“I would say your slave already knows the virtues of a fine whipping, Materna,” said the durrow, laughing gaily, glancing at my mistress. I gasped, not yet adapted to being used by other women before her, and feared to look upon her reaction—yet, to my relief, she seemed only the more pleased by the contact, moaning low and spreading her legs for the slave’s work. Upon releasing my cock, Felina gestured toward that same bench where Coral had once been seated. “Kneel,” said the woman. “You’re too tall, slave. I can’t do a proper job while you’re looming over me…come on, hurry up.”
I obeyed her, the thrill of being compelled to obey such a delicate woman truly one of a kind. Prick aching for another touch, I folded my hands behind my head and offered my back to her. Her bare feet padded upon the ground and came to a stop some three feet behind me. With very little delay, the first blow came.
Again, perhaps it was that beverage I’d been given—but I was shocked to find the bolt of pain rushed right to my groin and instead became pleasure. Amazed as I was, I hardly managed to catch my breath before the second blow rained down. Beneath her measured arm lay a tender balance of pleasure and pain that few other things could match—and amazingly, the pain but sweetened that pleasure. When I gasped again, Felina laughed and demanded to know, “Do you like it?”
“I— I—”
My mistress commanded my tongue into action, moaning, “Speak, slave! Speak. I’d know how well my friend applies the lash.”
“Very well, Madame,” I told her, pressed by her command. “Each blow has a loveliness to it— ah—”
I clenched my teeth while the lash struck again, again, again. My cock throbbed insatiably, not just with the pain but with the thought of my mistress receiving pleasure from the elfin slave. A few other durrow moaned beneath the caresses of lovers or slaves; I shut my eyes and focused on staying still between the strikes, which were sometimes beyond the boundary of pleasure and only painful.
Yet, the pain was not always unwelcome. The durrow doing the beating sometimes stepped forward and ran her fingertips lightly along my back, her nails grazing cruelly the edges of the brand and then more kindly the welts her whipping raised on me—far larger, I couldn’t help but estimate, than anything I drew out of Coral’s tender flesh.
“Isn’t that lovely,” praised Felina, stepping back again and laying hard into my backside. “Yes, oh, I do love a man who can take a beating from a beautiful woman.”
“Hear! Hear!” said one of the women around us, inciting a few others to laugh.
“What an aching weapon,” commented Valeria meanwhile. “Coral, relieve him a little.”
With a gasp of pleasure, the elf girl hastened over to obey. After moving the bench aside, she knelt elegantly before me, then bowed her head low and gently took my manhood into her hands. Grunting, I savored her dreamy smile as she caressed me up and down with those fair palms, then lowered her head and parted her pink lips to take me between. Her tongue swirled over the aching purple head while I groaned, my hips easing slowly against her mouth as the durrow lashed all the harder.
I must admit, my mistress knew what was needed to persevere. The sensual prowess of Coral’s warm, wet mouth made even the hardest lashes not just a joy to take, but an expedient to pleasure. Soon each stinging strike was not painful at all, but erotic as the sight of my mistress climaxing beneath the tongue of the slave. Coral’s tongue was just as talented; but when my mistress called, “Enough,” relief surged in my heart. My desire, more than anyone, was for her.
“Come to me, Paladin,” demanded the priestess, sliding out of her gown and displaying her naked body upon her chaise. Legs falling wide, she spread her glistening body for all to see—most especially me. My cock throbbed as she said, “Satisfy your mistress, oh, I must be filled—I want all these lovely companions of mine to see you dripping from me. Go on…show them how fine a stud you are.”
By then I was at her side and bent to kiss her mouth. She moaned, releasing herself to instead fold her arms around my neck. I glanced away only to gauge the distance needed to draw her hips to the end of the chaise. Then, with her backside just over the edge, I pressed against her. The warmth of her embrace was so immediately intoxicating that I groaned to penetrate her, my head swimming in the passion of Valeria’s body. She moaned, too—almost screamed, really—and arched her hips in welcome while I buried myself in her.
“Oh,” she cried, looking into my face, “oh, yes, Paladin—Weltyr himself couldn’t take a woman so well—”
When we were situated, I drew one limber leg up and draped it over my shoulder. The other wrapped around my hip and with this posture she was well spread, her pussy completely open and eager for the hard penetrations of my cock. Each slam deep into her caused another jiggle of her voluptuous breasts, and while my mouth enclosed around a peaked nipple, my hands reached down to clutch the flesh of her marvelous backside. The durrow around us moaned and commented their approval, elegant Felina having returned to her friend and now lying with her legs spread to take the explorations of nimble fingers. Coral, striped from my blows, knelt beside them and assisted in Felina’s pleasure, suckling her nipples and kissing her neck.
“What a wild animal he is,” commented the curvy durrow with approval, having drawn up her skirts to pleasure herself while she watched us. “You must let me have the next turn, Valeria, oh, please! I need a good, hard fucking.”
“Of course,
Myrtale, of course, I’d be glad to give you the next turn—oh! By Roserpine, he is something…see how deep he gets? Look, look, oh, his cock his so big! Harder, Paladin, harder—oh! Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
Valeria’s brow furrowed as though she were on the verge of tears while I leapt to obey her every declaration. My hand shifting to her hip to apply some downward pressure, I slammed up into her and watched in satisfaction as her eyelids fluttered. The open appreciation of Myrtale for the conjunction of our sex organs made it all the sweeter, and I impudently admired the self-caresses of my mistress’s friend while working myself into a high pressure frenzy amid the ecstasy of the scene. Every inch I pounded into Valeria was another spate of pleasure, and every cry of bliss that rose up past her lips made me only harder, only closer to the end. I moved faster as a result, and her body trembled with joy to receive me.
“Oh, Roserpine, oh, goddess! Harder, Paladin, harder, I’m close, I’m so close—hurt me with it, Burningsoul, oh, fill me with your seed!”
Groaning, I stared into her beautiful face while I obeyed. Her entire body seized with tremors; it was not very long before Valeria clenched tighter around me than ever, and her eyes widened in shock. She screamed, extolling, “Oh, slave! Finest of slaves, finest of men, oh, Burningsoul!”
The sheer bliss of her voice was more than sufficient to drag me over the edge along with her. Her name fell from my lips and I kept up the pace until the pleasure burst from me with an almost vicious energy. Teeth clenched, I worked deep into her, the pulses of joy now yielding the fluid of love’s passion for my mistress. I filled her with more cum by the thrust until, groaning, I drew myself from her. The last few strands of the stuff oozed from her, distinct against her dark flesh. Valeria moaned, shuddered, looked down at herself with a noise of appreciative lust.
“Oh, Paladin…you filled me to the brim. There’s so much of it!”
“How sexy,” moaned Myrtale, scrambling up and over to see her friend.
“He really did fill you,” marveled Felina between her gasps. “Oh, I can’t wait for my turn, ah!”
Myrtale, meanwhile, knelt between my mistress’s legs while I steadied myself upon my feet beside her. Amazingly, I still throbbed with lust: I remained overwhelmed by the rage of desire, the need to be buried in the flesh of a beautiful woman. The potion, no doubt—and its effects were only intensified by the sight of this lovely durrow exploring my mistress anatomy, spreading her labia and moaning to admire the dribble of my semen down the folds of her flesh.
“Yes, oh, that’s so nice…I wonder if he’ll get any of us pregnant today.” Looking pleased as could be, Myrtale reached forward and reverently smeared my semen across Valeria, working it into her skin as though it were some kind of lotion. She leaned forward, then, the tip of her tongue tickling against the surface, a hum of pleasure raising from her throat. “Oh! By Roserpine, he tastes so fine…I must have you, Paladin. I want to be filled with you! Sit down there where I was, oh, I would love to breed you…”
While I did as she’d bade me, seeing as my mistress was clearly comfortable with whatever orders they had to give, Myrtale rose unsteadily to her feet and amid a great jangling of jewelry stripped off her gown. Then, still decked in bracelets and necklaces of all kinds, the sumptuous elf straddled my lap and lowered herself upon me with a high moan. “Roserpine! Oh, Valeria, he’s so big—”
“He certainly is,” commented my mistress, enjoying the scene, smearing the rest of my seed into the delta of her pleasure before sliding a few fingers inside. “I love the way he stretches me, ah, he’s such a tight fit…”
Nodding, her lower lip trembling with passion, Myrtale braced herself back upon the pillows littering the conversation pit and began to piston her hips upon me. I groaned, my hands audaciously lifting to explore her broad thighs, her wide hips, the soft swell of her stomach and the far larger mounds of her breasts. While my hands enveloped these, she moaned and said, “Yes, yes, oh, Paladin, do I feel good?”
“Wonderful, Madame, ah, you’re so wet and tight—durrow bodies are the finest in the world—”
While the aristocratic women around me giggled, Myrtale smiled and worked herself upon me all the harder. “Oh, good, that’s good—you’ll be getting a lot of us, I think! Yes, yes, oh, Roserpine—you want to breed with me, Paladin? You want to fill me with that human warrior seed and make me nice and pregnant? I know you do, oh! Oh, yes, that’s right, stud—that’s right, give me a baby—”
Bracing against her hips, I worked mine up against her and provoked a shriek of surprised pleasure from her unready lips. She moaned, the noises hiccuping from her with the pace of my thrusts, her soaked anatomy tighter around me by the second. Each strike of my second head against the soft walls of her body sent another streak of pleasure into my skull, and seemed to please her just as much. Soon I focused on the same spot each time and her eyes appeared as though to roll into the back of her head. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, opened to emit a chain of moans that were higher all the time. “Slave, slave! Oh, what a good stud, yes, yes, take me as hard as you want, take me, breed me, flood my pussy with your human cum, yes, yes, yes!”
These durrow women had a way with words. A groan of my own on my lips, I caught her in my arms and pushed her down into the pillows where I could more effectively take her…and watch my mistress. Valeria moaned just to make eye contact with me, her leisurely toying with herself evolving into the slide of two fingers into her when she saw I watched. We admired one another, my mistress fingering herself and me taking her friend, each of us knowing we would have preferred being together.
Not that I was one to turn down a woman as beautiful a Myrtale. The durrow keened and writhed in my arms, bucked her hips up to mine, and finally climaxed with a shattering orgasm that left her quivering in the pillows. My own, coming on the tail end of hers, produced a shocked cry from her lungs and engendered a second orgasm in a sensual chain. I smiled, only barely able to bite back my laughter for these lovely women lest they mistake my appreciation for contempt. It was just so marvelous to see a group of exquisite women who were so very pleased by the thought of being bred my me. What man could help but enjoy the praise?
Soon, panting, I drew myself from Myrtale. She moaned and ran her hands up into her hair. “Oh, again, again! Take me again, slave!”
“But it’s my turn,” whined Felina, a girlish pout contorting her lips. She turned over upon hands and knees, her dripping body offered to me beneath the swell of her lovely rear. “Come, Paladin. Let me feel you dripping out of me…I would love to be bred by a big, powerful stud like you. Let me have it! See how wet I am from watching my friends take your tool?”
“I can think of no finer honor than having so many splendid women eager for my seed,” I admitted, now permitting myself a low chuckle as I knelt behind Felina’s splayed legs. Sensing they were a pair, I glanced toward Junia to gauge her reaction. Truly, this was a very different culture. Junia seemed quite taken with the image, and though she held hands with lovely Felina, she hardly seemed inclined to interrupt. I slid into the woman’s tight embrace and felt my entire body pulse with desire at the depth of her prolonged moan.
“Oh, Paladin, Paladin! You’re so big, it makes me feel small—oh, Roserpine, you make me drip, yes, oh, plow me nice and hard, give me a baby, what a good stud you are…that’s right, that’s right, oh, slave, slave!”
Judging by the quickness of sensitive Felina’s orgasm, she was perhaps the readiest of all of them for my attention—all except my mistress, who moaned with her own climax to see me leave her friend senseless. It wasn’t long before I once more came, the vigor of the potion unflagging. One by one, the rest of the durrow took their turns with me. At the end, with my tool wet by the lust of all these lovely women, Valeria pushed me down and mounted me anew. As others dozed or pleasured themselves or each other, she gazed into my eyes with her hands poised upon my chest and worked herself upon me.
“Best of servants,” she praised
me, “finest of slaves…how hard you still are!”
“Only with the hope of serving you once more, Madame.”
“And serve me you do—oh, Burningsoul, oh, Paladin! It twitches for me so sweetly…fill me with this sacred seed of yours, go on, go on—oh! By Roserpine—”
She bent her head and kissed me, uncaring who watched or how improper it was.
Soon even my magical endurance reached its limit, and the party wound to a close. Worn, enmeshed in the pink afterglow of sex, the friends of my mistress made their exits. Each time someone left my heart grew all the lighter. Why was it I, from the very start, so thrilled at the thought of being alone with my mistress? Why was it that she had this hold over my heart more than even over my body? I couldn’t have begun to explain; not then. I could only savor my joy as the final party-goers left us alone.
Valeria, sighing with satisfaction, shut the door behind them.
“How exhausting! I’m glad to have them by, but it’s always a relief when they leave…”
As though realizing to whom she talked—not a husband, but a slave—Valeria blinked herself back into awareness and looked up into my face. “Clean up,” she told me, waving her hand toward the conversation pit, its many pillows and goblets and golden plates of food still lying in disarray after the orgy. “Then you may join me in bed, much as I hate to make it a habit…but I found you very comfortable to sleep beside this morning, Burningsoul.”
“It would be my pleasure, Madame.”
While she sauntered off to her bedroom, I busied myself with the task, bending with a sigh to collect bejeweled goblets by the fistful.
I was only able to lay hands on a few before Valeria’s scream pierced the air.
A FOILED ATTEMPT
