by Reed James
Flee my step-father.
I pushed thoughts of my father out of my mind. This wasn't the time to get distracted. Already that hot itch filled my pussy. I squirmed my hips, sucking in a deep breath. I bit my lower lip hard, almost drawing blood. The pain flared.
My lusts retracted.
Damn that spell my father had cast on me. If I ever found the corrupted priestess of Luben who did this to me...
I'd have her spanked. Sven would be more than happy to do it for me.
Once I had Delicate's saddle cinched as tight as I could make it, I filled the saddlebags with the supplies Greta had filched from the kitchen. The mare gave a whinny, her white tail swishing from side-to-side. She was a gift from my mother right before her passing, given to me when Delicate was just a filly and I was still a virgin. We had both grown up together, her into a magnificent horse with a white coat, almost a brilliant ivory, made more so by the black socks of her forelegs.
“How's it going, Your Highness?” my maid asked. She peeked over the wooden wall from Prancer's stall. “I'm ready to go.”
“Almost there,” I said. Greta had actual experience saddling a horse. She grew up on a farm before she found work in my father's castle, first as a scullery maid and then as my bedmaid. She enjoyed riding Prancer, a gelding, as much as I loved Delicate.
The stable door creaked open.
I froze as one of the stable boys trooped in. It was so early. I wanted to be out of the castle at dawn. Why was he here at this hour? I heard him moving around, greeting the horses with mumbling words that I almost couldn't understand.
He paused. “Ees someone in t'ere wit' Delicate?”
I took a deep breath. This wouldn't ruin my escape plans. It couldn't. I had every right to be here.
“Nope, I'm in with Prancer,” Greta said. She slipped out of her stall. “Hey there, cutie.”
“Cutee?” the stable boy said, his mouth sounded like it was stuffed with raw fat. “Wot choo doin' here, maeed?”
“Just getting the princess's horse ready. She wants to go for an early ride.”
“Coulda done that for choo,” he said. “Be more 'n 'appy do it.”
“Mmm, I bet you would be,” giggled Greta. She had such a whorish quality to her voice, purring like honey. “Big, strapping lad like you would've gotten done a lot faster, wouldn't you?”
“Oy would,” he said, sounding so proud.
I licked my lips. If he found out I was saddling my own horse, there would be questions. Princesses didn't do something so crass.
“But choo a maeed, choos work up eem dem castle. Choo don't be doin' such work down heeere. Wot choo really doin' down heeere?”
“Maybe... I just wanted a little romp in the hay with such a cutie.”
My cheeks grew warm at the unmistakable sounds of kissing. Greta was improvising, using herself as a distraction. I heard the sounds of their mouths working together, the rustling of clothing. Greta let out such a wanton, soft sigh as hay rustled.
“Yeesh,” groaned the stable boy. “Yeesh, that's nice.”
“You like my pussy, huh?” Greta moaned. “Ooh, I bet you do. With such a big cock. Mmm, just pump that big dick away in me.”
The hay rustled more. My pussy grew wetter and wetter as I listened to him fuck her. I squirmed my hips. I needed satisfaction. I pressed myself against the stall wall, fighting the urge to masturbate as the hay rustled louder and louder.
Greta squeaked and groaned her pleasure. I imagined her large tits jiggling in the bodice of her dress, her face wrinkling as the stable boy fucked her so hard. His ass pumped up and down in my imagination, driving his dick into her blonde-furred muff.
“Ooh, yes, just work that dick in me!” gasped Greta. “Such a strapping man! Oh, yes! Gods, you are fucking me.”
“Just sweet honee,” he groaned. “Sweet honee pussee!”
“Yes, yes, I have sweet honey!” gasped my maid.
I needed a cock in me. My step-father's cock.
I could go to him. I could reach my father and slip into his bed. He would fuck me so hard. He would drive his cock into the depths of my pussy. I'd moan and gasp beneath him. He'd fill me to the hilt. I squirmed against the side of the stall, the lusts surging through me. It would be so easy. He was waiting for me.
He needed to be in me. He needed to fuck me. Only he could satiate me. I just had to go to him. Why was I fleeing the castle? He wouldn't be able to slip his cock into me and make me cum if I left. I wouldn't explode with taboo rapture ever again.
I whimpered.
“Yesh, yesh, work dat honee pussee on my prick! You love me big prick!”
“So much!” squealed Greta.
I could make those sounds for my father. I could gasp just like that. My pussy could make his dick feel as good as the stable boy's prick did in Greta. Juices ran down my thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting so hard against my lusts.
I whimpered.
I groaned.
Sven's face filled my vision.
His blond hair flowing about his handsome face. My dashing rogue smiling at me in that cocky manner. His cock would give me just as much pleasure. More pleasure. He didn't use me. He didn't want to violate all the laws of nature by fucking me.
I.
Loved.
Him.
I had to remember that. I focused on that as the stable boy grunted, spilling his seed into Greta's pussy. I bit my lip, focusing all my desires on Sven. I had to go to him. I had to flee to him. Only then would I be free of these depraved, forbidden lusts driving me to my father. He could help me break the spell on me.
Then I would be free.
“Oh, yes,” whimpered Greta. “You're pumping so much honey in me. You have such salty, thick honey.”
“Oy do,” the stable boy groaned. “Yesh, oy do.”
Greta made a giggle. Straw rustled as I sucked in a deep breath. And then I heard snoring. The stable boy must have fallen asleep. I grabbed Delicate's reins. It was time to leave my father's castle and escape. Shevoin would ensure that my father looked in the wrong direction for me. I would reach Sven.
I would be held in his arms again. For real this time.
~ * ~
Aingeal – Queen Sidhe's Palace, Faerie
I deserved to die.
I didn't want to die.
My emotions were a tumultuous mess as the night passed so slowly. Time crawled as I squirmed in my cell. Dawn approached. The glow that had suffused the crystalline structure, dwindled. It would be renewed again after the new day started, a subtle radiance that lit up every inch of Queen Sidhe's palace.
And meant it was closer to noon. When my execution would occur. Prisoners were always condemned at noon, when the greatest of Faerie's moons hovered overhead: the great, golden sphere.
I didn't want to die.
My own thirst for vengeance landed me here. I thought it worth any price to pay to kill Duke Gallchobhar. But now I knew what it was. I only had an extra day than him. I hugged myself, missing my wings.
I wanted it to be over. I hated this waiting. It was the worst. Why couldn't she just have me executed last night?
And yet... The longer it took meant one more breath of air. One more beat of my heart. One more moment of hope that I might, might be spared. That Sven would somehow convince her of my innocence or that he would do something foolish and set me free. The sort of act a hero in a bardic epic would perform.
Three of the four guards watching me stretched and marched from the chamber. The final guard yawned, his red butterfly wings fluttering. His shift was almost over. The guards had to fill in their relief on what had happened, a formality since nothing occurred.
A purring sound pricked my ears. I shifted; the silver manacles binding my wrists together, and preventing me from communicating with the spirits that abound in Faerie, clinked.
Zanyia stalked into the room, her tail swishing back and forth. She had a big smile on her face as she padded towards the guard. I sat
up, my heart beating so fast at the sudden appearance of the lamia. She was naked, her tawny hair spilling about her mischievous face, her triangular ears twitching in rhythm to her swaying tail thrusting from above her supple ass. Her small breasts jiggled, her nipples hard. Passion had darkened her trimmed bush, her dew glistening.
“Ooh, aren't you such a hunk,” Zanyia said, approaching the guard. “I love the color of your wings. It matches your eyes. So strong and powerful. Crimson is my favorite color.”
Sven went with something foolish.
“You shouldn't be here,” grunted the guard. He tapped the butt of his bronze spear on the ground.
She reached him, rubbing her cheek against the greave adorning his leg. “Shouldn't? I thought I was a guest here? What's wrong with a guest exploring the house in which she was so graciously invited?”
“This is the queen's dungeon, not the queen's residence,” he growled. “Get out of here.”
What was Sven up to? Why send in Zanyia?
“I'm just so bored,” Zanyia said, undeterred. “Won't you... play with me?”
The guard kicked out with his foot, not hard, but enough to knock Zanyia onto her backside. The catgirl rolled up into a crouch, blinking her cat-slitted eyes as she stared up at the guard. Shock flickered across her expression. Then she pouted.
“Don't you want to play with me?” she asked in such a pouting, purring tone. “I just want to have some fun. And you're such a handsome faerie. With all those muscles. You're not soft like the other male faeries I found.”
“Exactly.” The guard banged his spear butt hard on the ground. “Get out of here.”
Zanyia's pout increased. “Fine. You're no fun.”
Then she turned around to slink back the way she came. I frowned, confused, what was the point of this? How would this help me escape? If she came here to seduce the guard, to distract him, it had failed.
The hope that her presence had cultivated, died. Sven, despite his skill at fighting, couldn't overpower a faerie unless he caught one by surprise. I lowered my gaze and hugged myself tight. I didn't want to die.
Chapter Nineteen: Coquettish Pussy
Zanyia
I was miffed.
I couldn't believe that dumb faerie guard didn't want to fuck me. Me! How could he not want to fuck my tight, petite body? I had such lithe legs and small, firm tits. My ass was cute and my tail was sexy. I swished it back and forth as I crawled away from him, moving on all fours like a kitty-cat. My ears twitched as a purr rose in my throat.
He would fuck me!
I had my pussy pointed right at the faerie guard as I took my time heading for the exit. I felt his eyes on my snatch, covered by my tawny bush. An exciting thrill ran through me. A horny itch grew in the depths of my cunt. Juices flowed, beading my glistening hair. I put a sway to my cute rump, purring louder and louder; such a sexy sound.
I didn't look back. That would defeat my goal. I needed the faerie guard staring at my cunt with such lust. I needed to overwhelm him. I needed him ripping off his gold armor and thrusting his hard cock into my naughty cunt. Aingeal needed me. Master was counting on me. I promised him my plan would work.
And now this dumb guard was making a liar of me.
In the wall before me, made of the same crystal as everything else about Queen Sidhe's palace, I could see the guard's reflection. He gripped his bronze spear, his wings twitching, fluttering. A trickle of juices ran down my thighs, letting him know I was horny. He licked his lips.
I shuddered, so eager for it. I came closer and closer to the exit, taking my time, letting him appreciate my cunt, imagining what it would be like to slide his dick into my hot, juicy depths. To feel my tight cunt wrapped around his cock, squeezing him, milking him.
He let out a groan. His dick so hard. He needed a pussy. My pussy.
I wiggled my hips, pausing at the stairs that led from the dungeon. I threw a final look over my shoulder now, giving him that beseeching look. I put all my lust and desire into this look, my lower lip pouting.
He had to act. He had to want me. He had to throw me against the wall and fuck me so hard. I wiggled my hips. His hand tensed on his spear. His wings fluttered more. I held the pout for one more second.
Then turned to crawl up the stairs. I put my hand on the first runner, the crystal cool beneath my grip.
“Cernere's black cunt,” growled the guard.
Metal clanked against crystal. Heavy footsteps rushed across the room. Strong hands seized me. I gasped in delight, not fighting as the guard hauled me to my feet. He spun me and pressed me against the crystalline walls, my nipples rubbing on the cool surface, my cheek pressed against it.
“Teasing slut!” groaned the guard.
“I knew you wanted to play with me!” I moaned, undulating against the wall, rubbing my entire body against it. My pussy clenched, aching to be penetrated. I whimpered as he pinned me there. “Please, please, fuck me! I need your dick in me so badly! You're so hunky! Guards in armor... They make me so wet!”
“I bet, you little slut,” he groaned, his armor shifting behind me. Metal clinked and then hit the ground.
A dick nudged my ass. It smeared hot precum across my ass, sliding down my curving rump. He came closer and closer to my pussy. I trembled, my ears flicking. His cock touched my snatch, rubbing against the pussy that belonged to my Master.
I sucked in a breath, I was wet and horny but I didn't want his dick in me. It felt so small. Not like Master's.
“Fuck me!” I moaned anyways. “Just ram that dick and—”
The guard grunted, yanked back from me. I heard a meaty thunk, armor clattering. I whirled around, my tail brushing the wall behind me. Master drew back his fist, holding the dazed faerie guard. Red blood poured down from the faerie's broken nose, staining his lips. Master punched. The guard's head snapped back. His body went limp, ripping out of Master's grip and slamming on the floor.
“Master!” I squealed and jumped over the unconscious man and leaped into Sven's arms, pressing my face against his black leather jerkin. My arms went around his torso, hugging him tight while my cat ears twitched. I undulated against him, rubbing my crotch against his leather pants, my clit loving the feel.
Naughty tingles raced through me.
“Zanyia,” he said, sounding a little shocked. “What are you doing? I can't fuck that horny pussy right now.”
“I know,” I purred, staring up at his strong face framed by those flowing, golden locks of his. His blue eyes so sexy. “I just thought you forgot about me.”
“What?”
“I mean, you almost let that guard fuck my pussy.” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to see other men fuck my tight pussy? Watch them slide their hard dicks into my juicy cunt?”
“I had to go slow to surprise him,” he answered. “No cock but mine gets to play with that pussy.”
“What about a woman's cock?” I asked.
He opened his mouth to answer when I stiffened. My eyes widened at the sound of clanking metal. “Master!”
~ * ~
Kora Falk
Nervous flutters wracked my stomach. I flowed through the corridors of Queen Sidhe's palace, Ealaín walking at my side, Nathalie trailing behind us. The aoi si had her armor back on, looking so impressive in it, the silver contrasting with her midnight-black skin. Her cum filled my ass, my brother's jizz in my pussy. The paints for the masterpiece I would create.
But would it be good enough to fool the faerie? I had to believe it would. Ealaín was sent by her mother, my Goddess, to inspire my art. I had to trust my muse. My back straightened. Everyone was counting on me. Aingeal, my brother, Zanyia, Nathalie, and even Ealaín. I clutched my hands to the front of my pink robes, feeling the amulet beneath.
That was a problem for later.
The two faerie males waited just as I requested. We were just outside the courtyard before Queen Sidhe's private garden. Through the trellis of delicate crystal—a piece of architecture impossib
le to create without the faerie's impressive control over the spirits to shape such a delicate item—I witnessed a dozen faerie nobles moving or gliding through the courtyard, talking to each other. I sucked in a breath; a final ripple of nerves washed through my body.
I straightened my back, putting on a regal, imperious look as I gazed upon the two sycophants. They both turned to face me, moving with such an ethereal grace. Both were naked, their bodies sculpted to masculine beauty, their faces making my heart flutter faster. A hot itch tingled through me, my nipples pressing on my pink robe.
“Mistress, you honor us with your presence,” Turlough, the black-haired faerie, said. His wings twitched as he sank to his knees before me, kissing the tip of my shoe. “What do you need of your unworthy servants?”
Conleth's golden wings fluttered as he joined Turlough and kissed my other shoe. The two both knelt before me, so eager to just lick me. To pleasure me. Their eyes gazed up at me, promising to deliver such rapture to me.
“I need the courtyard cleared so I can practice for this evening's performance,” I said, my heart thudding in my chest. “It's a surprise for Queen Sidhe.”
“This courtyard?” Turlough asked, staring up at me. He cocked his head to the side. “Before the garden?”
“The garden is key to my art for tonight,” I said. “It will be spectacular. It will melt your mind even more than last night. You will be so hard for me. You will be jizzing just watching me. You will desire to worship me for eternity.”
“We already worship you, great artist,” moaned Conleth. He straightened, his cock thrusting so hard before him. “We'll worship you right now.”
“I must practice,” I said, stroking my hand through his ruby hair. “Don't you want my performance to be majestic?”
“Yes,” he groaned, his eyes shining up at me, his cock twitching as I stroked him. “We will clear the courtyard. For you.”
“For you,” Turlough groaned. “And then... Tonight... You'll let us worship you?”
“Oh, yes,” I purred. “I'll be so... inspired. I'll need you both to show your appreciation. For hours, I suspect.”
