Erotic Tales of the Nyphrazi - Complete 7 Part Series

by Minky St Anne

  Turning to see if Marlo is impressed with my handy-work, I’m disappointed to see his face is showing signs of concern, rather than arousal.

  “Why this?” says Marlo.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I’m wondering why you know of this.”

  “Oh, I saw it when I was with your father.” I don’t bother telling him that his father was nailing me at the time. A girl has to have some secrets.

  I expect to have to clamber over the vines but Marlo swings me up into his arms and steps into the center of the moss, where he kneels and places me in its soft embrace as if I’m some fragile flower. Hah, if only.

  I’m waiting for him to make his move but instead he looks at the flowers on the vines. He even goes so far as to pick one so he can have a closer look.

  “This color, is it as you remember it?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, without giving my response any thought. If he’s going to muck about like this, we could be here for days.

  Taking my response at face-value, he tosses the flower over his shoulder and then looks down at my body giving it even more attention than he had the discarded bloom.

  The pure lust in his eyes does funny things to me and this sensation only escalates when I see him deliberately lick one of his fingers, covering it with his enzyme-laden spit.

  In the past this would have had me going ‘ewww’, but knowing what that stuff is capable of has me squirming in anticipation. When he proceeds to lick the rest of the fingers on his right hand, I become beyond excited.

  My hunger is now rampant and it’s with eagerness that I watch his hand drop to my groin. I need no prompting to open myself wide and I’m not disappointed when he slips a single finger deep inside me.

  The moment those enzymes touch my insides they turn me molten; swollen and frantic with need.

  Marlo slowly pulls his finger free curling it wickedly in the process, riding my G-spot, hard.

  Then he slides two fingers in and the sensations only get better with the effervescence deep inside of me building ever stronger. By the time he’s pumping all four fingers in and out of me in the best hand fuck I’ve ever had, I’m whimpering with need.

  His hand feels enormous, but it’s still not enough.

  “Please,” I weep, hostage to my own growing need.

  While the look on his face might be one of caution, his actions show no doubt at all. This time when I hear the rattle of his fettyr chain, a thrill of want rushes through me. No doubts, just pure need.

  It must be something that shows on my face, because Marlo lifts one of my legs high before securing it off to the side with a couple of the vines. Repeating the action with my other leg, he leaves we wide open for that iron sheathed monster of his and my sex twitches in readiness.

  I welcome the feel of his hot hardness when it nudges at the entrance to my vagina. I’m unable to stop a few nerves from skittering through me but I wrestle with them until they’re under control. Tensing isn’t going to make this any easier.

  Once again, Marlo licks his fingers but rather than plunging them deep inside of me, he massages and tweaks my clit until the ripples are close to overwhelming me. With my mind so firmly focused on that one small part of my body it takes a second for me to realize Marlo has slowly started to push himself into my depths.

  And he is not wrong about those rivets.

  Knowing the Nyphrazi as I do, I doubt it’s an accident that the little metal heads are clattering over my G-spot with precision accuracy.

  He’s not all the way in before he withdraws, leaving me wanting more. With the next push, he goes deeper and my G receives another glorious hammering from those rivets.

  I’m not sure if he needs to take it this slowly, but I love it, with the constant feeling of anticipation increasing with each slow pump. Not that his hand has left my clit in all this time, alternating between mashing it into submission and teasing it to come out and play.

  It says a lot about the God of Iron’s strength that he can hold himself up with one arm and thinking about the strength behind the iron cock that’s pumping in and out of me at ever faster speeds, has me quivering in delight. My G is all over the action, swelling under the constant onslaught and loving every minute of it. I’m having a pretty damned good time myself.

  The orgasm starts out small, but doesn’t stay that way for long and soon I can feel my muscles working hard against Marlo’s iron fettyr.

  I scream my release to the blue sky overhead and glory in the sun beating down on my over-heated skin. I’m not sure if I should be concerned that Marlo hasn’t achieved the elusive Nysa. What happens to me if I can’t get all of them to achieve this during the ceremony to return me to my human form?

  I’d ask him but he’s cleaning me up in his own unique fashion and it’s something that has me climaxing a couple more times. I have to admire his dedication.

  “You must return to your own space to rest,” says Marlo, letting me know more than him untying my legs that our training is over for now.

  “Do you take me there?”

  “You can transport yourself simply by wishing it so. Remember not to reappear before you left though.”

  “Why? I’ve been in two places at once at the lake.”

  “What works here, does not work in your world.”

  I guess that makes sense in some screwed up space time continuum way and so after a soul searing kiss from Marlo, I think of my uncle’s cabin a moment after Vyran and I had left it.

  I’m delighted when I pop into being in the loft of the cabin. The thing that takes me by surprise is that the fucking bear is up there with me. But before I get the chance to zap myself out of there, the bear’s head explodes in a splatter of blood and grey matter, covering me liberally in the process.

  This would normally have been freaking out in a big way, but it was me or the bear and that bastard had it coming.

  “Jasmine, are you up there?”

  “Ben?”

  I shove the still twitching carcass roughly to one side with incredible ease before squeezing past it. When I stand at the edge of the loft and look down at him, Ben’s expression is one of confusion, but it’s not long before it changes to horny-as-hell.

  “That new?” he says, nodding at me.

  It’s only when I look down that I too become aware of my new adornment. The double chain that splits my furrow, in a design reminiscent of the Goddess of Copper’s onesie, is then connected to a chain around my waist, then on up through large nipple rings before snaking over my shoulders to join up at the back.

  That the chain is iron comes as no surprise to me and the temptation to lift my arms above my head is one I give into and oh boy is it ever worth it.

  “We need to clean you up,” says Ben, in a way that has me feeling really dirty. The seven hundred pounds of bear meat can wait.

  Chapter Four

  I’m filthy, sweaty and covered in dead bear. Getting the fucking thing out of the cabin had been a nightmare even with my new-found strength but that was mainly because I hardly used it as I’d been trying to hide it from Ben. Even being sneaky about it, I’d surprised him a couple of times.

  It was only after doing a godawful skinning job with the glorified butter knives available and then hacking the bear into bits that we were able to get it down to chunks small enough to fit in the root cellar. By the time we’d done that and swabbed the cabin free of carnage, we were exhausted.

  The only plus about all the hard work is that it’s made it easy for me to avoid the unspoken questions that hover around Ben like vultures.

  Despite having come out to the cabin to think about our relationship, what with the bear attack and my latest interlude with the gods, I hadn’t had a chance and so am no clearer on what I want than I had been when I’d left Ben in the carpark after our fight. To say I’m confused would be an understatement.

  What’s really weird is that while it’s more than likely very fresh in Ben’s mind, for me it’s b
een over a week since we’d had our fight. And to be honest, in comparison to the whole demi-god, I might die scenario; it’s all looking rather lame.

  Ben chucks another couple of logs into the old boiler that sits next to a beat-up hot tub out back of the cabin. I hadn’t noticed it until we were in the middle of ‘Operation Bear’ and can only assume it was part of my uncle’s upgrades. There sure as hell hadn’t been any luxuries like this when I was staying here as a kid.

  “Should be hot enough soon,” says Ben, closing the boiler door.

  “Screw it, I think I’ll get in now,” I say, already ditching my clothes. That this plays hell with all the chains about my body, has me feeling hotter than hades.

  “We should go jump in the lake first. If we get in there like this, the water will be filthy in seconds.”

  He has a point but I know from experience the lake is cold enough to cause amnesia if we jump in it.

  “Come on chicken,” says Ben, ditching his clothes and showing me that his cock is once again pierced with copper barbells.

  Jealously swamps me because I know this means he’s either recently been with the Goddess Cuprum, or soon will be.

  Well screw how cold the lake is, I know that the red haired cow isn’t fond of water, and so if going in the lake with Ben will keep her away, then so be it. Freeze my tits off, it is.

  “Race you,” I say, already sprinting for the shoreline and all the while hoping it’s not as cold as I remember.

  Ben’s no slouch and soon passes me. He doesn’t slow when he hits the water and is under before I’ve even got my feet wet.

  Surprising is that when his head clears the water, rather than be screaming about how cold it is, he’s whooping with delight. Crazy bastard.

  It’s only when I’m up to my knees that it dawns that the water isn’t cold at all. Anything but.

  Could I have done this, just by hoping it’d be warmer than it used to be? Only one way to find out.

  No sooner have I thought about the water being the temperature it had been when I was little, than Ben is yelling and hollering about having found a cold spot. Not wanting to take the edge off his hardness, I soon ramp the temperature back up.

  I dive in, with my out-stretched form causing the chains in my cleft to pull tight, and my nipples to be tugged on. Swimming out to join Ben is wonderful and on reaching his side all I can do is roll over on my back and float in bliss.

  “So who are these courtesy of?” says Ben, pulling gently on the chains sitting over my stomach.

  “Oh, my god. Do that again!”

  He does so, a little harder. “God of Iron is my guess.”

  “Marlo,” I whisper, while enjoying the feeling of Ben tugging on the chains over and over. The hotter I get, the cooler the water feels.

  “Fuck, this water is getting cold. Enough for me,” says Ben, dropping the chains and kicking hard to propel himself back to the shore, holding onto my hand so he can tow me in his wake. I can’t help but notice that when my arousal levels out, so does the temperature of the water, proving to me that if I want the temps to stay constant, I need to concentrate more.

  Basically, no sex in the lake.

  “It’s not so bad here,” says Ben, stopping in the shallows, but no sooner has he given me some chain action than the water temp drops again. Weird, I’m usually better at multi-tasking than this.

  “Come on, the hot tub should be warm by now.” I flip over onto my stomach and drop my feet to the lake bottom and am walking up the narrow beach before he catches up.

  “Not so fast, tiger,” says Ben, grabbing hold of the chains that dissect my back before disappearing between my ass cheeks.

  The groan I make is definitely not one of discomfort and so, I keep pressing forward, enjoying it. Ben doesn’t let go but rather experiments with pulling down on the chains having them rattling through the rings that pierce my nipples and clanking together as they run through my slit.

  We reach the hot tub just in time with my legs not so much ready to give out, as seemingly no longer connected to my brain.

  “In you go,” says Ben, picking me up and lifting me over the side and letting me know he’s no longer in possession of his copper doo-dads. Good, that means Cuprum won’t be popping up any time soon.

  I sink into the lukewarm water and settle on the sun lounger style seat that forms the bottom of the pool. Shame there’s no power to run all the jets. Still, this is pretty damned good.

  Rather than sitting next to me, Ben settles himself on the other side of the pool, so he can look at me.

  “You want to tell me what was up with you on The Beast?”

  Damn, I’ve never been good at this stuff. I think briefly on trying to bullshit my way out of it, but taking a quick peek at Ben’s implacable expression I don’t like my odds of pulling it off. Okay, he asked for it.

  “It’s just that I’m really confused. I have feelings for you, I do, but it’s just that.” I stutter to a halt knowing that once I say this next bit there’ll be no going back.

  “Yes,” prompts Ben.

  “I have feelings for Vyran, too,” I rush out. To be honest, I’ve probably also got feelings about Marlo, but think that might be a bit much for Ben to deal with all at once. I swallow deeply, waiting for him to explode.

  But nothing happens and his expression is so blank that I can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling about my revelation.

  My mouth gets the better of me and I race on telling him all about the demi-god situation, although I purposefully glaze over the whole ‘I might die bit’. I tell him how it is. He doesn’t interrupt me once and, of more concern, he still doesn’t say anything after I’m finished.

  He’s quiet for too long as far as I’m concerned.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “There’s not much I can say is there? It’s not like we’re monogamous, now is it?” His tone is an interesting mix of exasperation and anger.

  I go to respond but then realize I’m not sure what I want him to say either and much as I’d like him to give up Cuprum, he really doesn’t have any choice in the matter. If I was to push for that, he might insist I give up Vyran, in turn.

  “It was you changing the temperature of the lake, wasn’t it?”

  My nod is small, but enough to have Ben reacting, but not in a way I’m expecting.

  “Well then, can you do something about the water in here?”

  This throws me. Part of me is happy about his accepting the whacked situation I find myself in, but part of me is put out that he doesn’t seem to care about me being fucked by seven guys in a single night.

  The water is nice and hot before he speaks again. “And no, I’m not fucking happy about the ceremony, but if it means my girlfriend will be human again, I’ll deal.”

  I take some heart in that he’s still calling me his girlfriend. As to whether that will last past the ceremony is another thing altogether, but I’ll deal with that at the time.

  Conscious of the vast quantity of dead bear in the root cellar, we only stay another night.

  “I’d offer to get down there and lift it all up,” says Ben, looking through the hatch in the cabin floor, “But I get the idea you’re probably stronger than I am, now”

  So much for playing it down when I’d come clean about the whole debacle. I don’t bother arguing with him, but rather strip off hastily to avoid messing up my last clean clothes and then jump down into the cellar so I can throw the lumps of meat up to him. They feel so light that it’s like they’re made of polystyrene and it’s only after he staggers on catching a particularly large chunk, that I have to force myself to slow down. Once it’s all safely stowed in the back of my truck, we head to the lake to wash down.

  I’m feeling particularly horny after all the manual labor and the consequent chain tugging that’s gone on and so I’m leaving the lake just how it is. Freezing.

  That is until I’m ankle deep in its icy embrace.

  “There
’s no fucking way I’m putting my kit in that,” says Ben, indignantly, his hands unconsciously crossed over his cock and balls.

  After getting control of my laughter, I think briefly on the temperature of the hot tub the night before and it’s not long before the lake around us is nice and steamy. If it wasn’t for me losing concentration every time I came close to climax, our wash down would have taken a lot longer.

  Getting up at four thirty the following morning is a hell of a shock to the system. Going to work after what has been over a month with all the time slips courtesy of the Nyphrazi is incredibly tedious. I’ve gotten used to sleeping in and doing as I wish. The stupid thing is that I don’t actually need to go to work, but if I don’t turn up in the current time line, then I’m going to lose my job and my folks will want to know what the hell is going on.

  “Lord girl, did you get one of them spray tans?” says Glory, by way of greeting when I stumble into the kitchen at the mine.

  “Something like that,” I say, balking at a full-on lie.

  Despite a morning full of inquisition, I manage to avoid most of my boss’s questions. Boy does she ever love to live vicariously through my sex life. If she really knew what it was like, she’d probably blow a gasket.

  I nearly slip up when I move a full caldron of chili from one element to another. Rather than get someone to help me slide it along as I usually would, I simply pick it up and put it where I need to. I’m about to move another huge pot when I hear urgent coughing from behind me. It sounds so fake that I turn to check what’s up and see Ben looking at me, with his eyes wide.