The Concubine Vol 1-3: An Erotic series of Monster Domination

by Wade, Vixen

  She spread her knees a little farther apart as she picked the giant cock of his stomach. Carefully, she rubbed the head against the dewy folds of her opening, using her own juices to slicken the head. Carefully, she put it at her opening and eased herself down on the erection.

  She expelled a breath in a quick, hard gasp. The great blue cock felt magnificent as she pushed herself onto it. She moaned and slid the head inside of herself. Slowly, the walls of her vagina relaxed and accepted the massive, blunt instrument.

  “Oh god, my Lord,” she whispered as the cock of the Ogre Magi slipped into her for the first time.

  Her own secretions slid down around the fat head and mingled with Octavia’s spit, greasing the way, and she relaxed her knees, letting gravity pull her down the length. She was filled up, stretched and utterly fulfilled. She hadn’t even started thrusting and she already felt better fucked than she ever had before.

  The thick finger found the rosebud of her anus once more and she gulped. Instantly she felt the gears in her lower belly starting turning, churning her toward the next orgasm. Skavis did not invade the opening, merely pressed and stroked patiently as the concubine skidded down the length of his dick.

  Half way down, Veronica felt the first-like head brush her cervix and knew she’d taken all of the phallus she was capable of. It was amazing. She perched, hands braced on the ridges of the Oni’s abdominal wall. Slowly, carefully, she began to slid up and down.

  Quickly the member began skidding in and out like a train on rails, smoothly navigating her depths, pushing her beyond the pain of the stretch and deep into realms of ecstasy she’d never understood could even exist.

  She felt inebriated from fucking.

  “Ah, ah, ah, oh, god,” she said in rapid pants.

  Her hands kneaded his stomach as her inner thighs began quivering. She sounded so wet down there, so willing and aroused. Slowly, the great hips began to lift to meet her. She heard him growl, again the sound so bear-like it was eerie. She stopped all motion as Skavis began picking up the pace, lifting his hips, sliding his cock deep, pulling it out.

  She arched, holding her position, as he began jackhammering her pussy. The Magi was snarling now, finger gone from her ass, both massive hands wrapped around her narrow waist, picking her up, pushing her down, jamming his cock into her.

  Veronica looked down and saw Octavia had given up trying to keep the big bouncing testicles in her mouth. The Sylph eagerly nestled under the sack, tongue working furiously to rim the Ogre Magi. The female had one hand locked between her legs, fingers sliding in and out in orgasmic pistons.

  The clever anilingus pushed the Oni past the edge. His hips were punching into her. Tearing screams from her throat as the pole between his legs pummeled her. Then the motions lost any sensibility of rhythm and he just bucked, almost spasmodically.

  She felt the base of his shaft swell, then the force of the thick not of his ejaculate roll up the urethra. She was stretched so tightly across his prick she could feel every minute vibration. Inside her the head of his cock jerked back and forth and it was Skavis’s turn scream.

  She’d though the Orc had come a lot.

  She really had. But the Oni began pumping three times semen into her with twice the force. She felt it squirting up against her insides, felt the canal become immersed with it until the thick white fluid slid back down the outside of his shaft and between her lips as she continued sliding up and down on his erection.

  The feel of the slick ejaculate was all she need, the scorching heat as it splashed into her. Her orgasm shook her and her fingers dug into the Oni hard enough to draw blood. She could hold it no more and began to sob, to cry with the intensity of the orgasm.

  Her orgasm flowed out of her, running down the huge penis to mix with the Magi’s sperm and Octavia’s saliva. She collapsed backward against the Lord, and to her surprise, felt the prodigious arms envelope her.

  She couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face and she turned into his embrace, kissing the face, kissing the terrible tusks, running her arms around the pillar of a neck.

  “My lord, my lord,” she whispered. “I am yours,” her voice was almost a wail.

  6.

  “You pleased Lord Skavis well,” Octavia said. She did not make it sound like a compliment.

  “I took pleasure too,” Veronica replied. She smiled coldly. “I think you tasted a little of that, there at the end.”

  Octavia gave her a wane smile. “It’s powerful you know.”

  “What is?”

  “His cum. It is powerful.”

  Veronica remembered the feeling of hot sludge as he dumped his load into her pussy. “He comes hard,” she agreed.

  “No,” the Sylph snapped. “Well yes, Skavis shoots like a dragon when he cums, but that’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean then?”

  “I mean his seed is a gift, filled with the cosmic power of life. It will keep you young, ward off disease, let you live for centuries.” Veronica looked at her, disbelief on her face. “It’s true,” Octavia insisted. “Just as the geas sigil he branded on your neck protects you.”

  Veronica’s hands went to her neck where the tender burn scar formed strange welts on her skin. “The brand?” she asked. “The mark that lets me talk to you?”

  “It does more than that,” Octavia whispered. Her eyes burned into Veronica’s with a frightening, almost insane, intensity. “Yes, it gives you the gift of tongues. But under its projection, under his protection, you will need neither air nor food to survive. You will be immune to all but the most extremes of heat and cold. Wounds will heal faster, pain seem less.”

  Veronica felt an something rising up in her at this words. She didn’t doubt Octavia. The woman’s words somehow felt correct. The dark sylph cunt was telling her the truth.

  “That is an incredible gift!” she almost shouted, as understanding of its implications really began to sink in. “Does he give this to all his servants?” she asked.

  Octavia looked at her, black eyes glittering, voice a razor blade. “No.” She said. Reluctantly, she added, “he only so marks his favored thralls. His concubines. The ones who may yet bear him offspring.”

  Veronica felt a rush of intense pride and satisfaction flow through her. She was the bedmate of a godling. She could be the mother of powerful, demi-human children. She might sit at the feet of a being that could, conceivably, rule the cosmos. She grew hot, and a delicious sensation washed through her; she could continue fucking by such a being.

  “Let me show you something,” Octavia suggested.

  Veronica allowed herself to be led to the far side of the vast chamber, to where heavy curtains blocked her view of the rest of the space. She’d never noticed them before, she realized, not that she’d really been here that long.

  The sylph drew back the curtains and Veronica gasped at what she saw. Light, a brilliant golden-tinged cerulean, shot up out of a circular structure made of ancient stone blocks upon which strange runes were inscribed.

  At first afraid to go near the wonder, Octavia placed a hand at the small of her back and gently prodded her forward. “Look,” she said into her ear. “Look.”

  Veronica did.

  She saw eternity. A swirling mass of stars racing in spirals, galaxies turning in wheels. Images, impossible images of wonders cities, strange races of people, and horrible monsters, filtered through in rapid flashes.

  “Behold the chronosgate,” Octavia said. “He who beds us, who lets us ride his cock like a stallion, controls this like a vessel. Any time, anywhere in space, any dimension, is accessible to him. He travels through all of eternity in search of knowledge and power. This is Bir el-Arweh, the Well of Souls!”

  Veronica leaned in closer, mesmerized by the magnitude of what she was seeing. Dimly, she felt Octavia’s hands on her body, caressing her skin, running fingers through her dark tresses.

  “You really are beautiful,” Octavia said softly into her ear. “I’ve
never quite seen him so enchanted with a creature before, except for perhaps the she-mare Centaur the King in Yellow stole from him. But maybe not even her.”

  She paused and when she spoke again her voice was steel hard with anger.

  “I’ve never seen the Magi so quick to lick a pussy, to mark a brood-bitch with his eternal blessing, to make a mere whore his concubine.”

  Now, even through the hypnotic power of the well’s presence, Veronica clearly heard the hate and anger in the dominatrix’s voice. She felt those strong hands on her and fear shot through her heart in jagged currents.

  “This will not stand!” Octavia suddenly shrieked.

  “No!” Veronica screamed back, terrified.

  It was too late.

  She felt the light, sensual grip she’d at first mistaken for amorous, turn hard, unyielding, then brutally violent. The dark Sylph shoved her hard and, already off balance, she felt her center of gravity shift.

  Screaming, she plunged into the Well of Souls.

  She fell…forever. Above her the mouth of the well hung, a simple circle of brilliant illumination, Octavia’s laughing face clearly visible as Veronica tumbled away. She fell until the well mouth became a pinprick of light, then disappeared altogether.

  But she fell through time and space not as a mere human being. She fell with the mark of Skavis upon her, and the Ogre Magi’s sperm in her womb. She fell not as Veronica Doe, flight attendant, a mortal with all the frailties and weakness of a normal woman.

  Instead she traveled Eternity as something else, something more.

  She traveled as THE CONCUBINE…

  …to be continued…

  In the soon to be released second volume of the Concubines sexual adventures…

  TALES OF THE CONCUBINE

  #2

  TAKEN BY THE WILDHUNT

  By Vixen Wade

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, evens or locals is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Park Place

  Publishing (3P Ventures)

  Copyright 2015 by Vixen Wade and 3P

  Ventures.

  All rights Reserved.

  Catapulted from her world, Veronica Doe found herself trapped in a strange dimension beyond space and time. There, she shed her past and learned to embrace her new sexual adventures across realms of fantasy. Betrayed, and cast adrift in the currents of dimensional time, she searches constantly, seeking to return to her master. In her heart she remains…THE CONCUBINE.

  1.

  Veronica Doe fell.

  Time began flowing in strange currents of confused perception. Had she fallen for seconds or was it eons? She could not tell. Under the protection of the Ogre Magi, she felt neither cold nor hunger or fatigue. so all of her biological metrics for experience were removed, leaving her in a strange cocoon of uncertainty.

  She did not land, she merely became aware. One moment there was vast, endless void, next, the feeling of cold, damp ground under her back. There was no sensation of transition. One moment she was in free fall through all of Eternity and the next, she was simply Here.

  Sitting up, she looked around. Gray mist hung in a thick cloak around her, obscuring the terrain, clinging in damp clouds and leaving her with a strange, continuing feel of disorientation. She could see, but she could now see. Blinking slowly, she fought to retain her bearings.

  Under her feet she felt damp earth, covered in pine needles and a rich, loamy soil. Emerging from the mist dark columns of old growth hardwoods stood in shadowy pillars. She felt something hard, sharp, and unyielding beneath her hand.

  Startled, she looked down, lifting her hand, she revealed what was grasped so tightly inside her fist. To her surprise she saw a pendent. A goodly sized black diamond set in scintillating platinum. She recognized it the instant she laid eyes upon it. The last time she recalled seeing it was around the neck of Octavia, First Concubine of the Ogre Magi.

  Sudden images filled her mind; the rush as the sylvan dominatrix pushed her over the edge of the well, the sensation of tumbling, a sensation that overwhelmed all other thought in that mad, terrifying moment. But now, startled into remembering, she understood where the pendent came from.

  She fought as she twisted, lashing out desperately to try and save herself. Her hand caught on the dangling medallion and ripped it free and, as she tumbled downward, it came with her. Screaming, she’d plunged through time/space uncertain of her ultimate fate.

  Now she was…here. But she was here with the pendent. She didn’t fully understand the significance, if indeed there was any, but it felt like, well, something. Curious, she inspected the clasp, found the platinum slightly bent but easily fixable. Using her thumbs, she prized it back into place and slipped it around her neck. It made her feel better, calmed her fears in some small way. You can do this, she assured herself.

  From out of the mist she heard the sounds of howling.

  Cold feelings of dread knifed through her. There was danger here, far from the protective arm of her Magi. The howling drifted out of the dense mist, echoing weirdly through the black, shadow forest. She spun in place, turning one direction, then the other.

  Her heart beat hard enough to hurt inside her chest. She had to run, to flee. Whatever happened, she didn’t want whatever was howling to find her out here alone and vulnerable in the mists. She started running, immediately slipped and went down. Rising, she moved forward, there was no way to tell which direction led to safety, there was only flight.

  She ran, bare feet pounding hard into the cold, soggy ground. Branches materialized out of the mist, slapping her naked skin and raising welts until, after only moments, her chill numbed flesh was soon marred by long, thin streaks of blood.

  Her foot came down on soggy leaves and she slipped, went to a knee and came up. Her heart jumped and thudded from the exertion, leaving her panting heavily. Behind her the howls broke off into a chorus of barking and she realized there was not just a single creature hunting her, but an entire pack.

  Cold wet grass, reaching to her knees, yellow and brown, appeared, and she ran into it. Frigid moisture clung to her in wet jewels as she pushed on. Up ahead, dimly through the mist bank, she caught sight of a yellow light burning high above the ground. Drawing closer, she made out the indistinct finger of a stone tower, black against the gloom.

  Now she heard the pounding of hooves and realized the snarling beasts hunting her led dark riders. She was a fox, a sable, in some perverse chase. Angry, inarticulate shouts broke through the muffling effects of the mist and she sobbed. The ground broke beneath her feet and she tumbled into the wet grass, shivering as she rose again. She forced herself up but then froze.

  The figure loomed up out of the mist. Eyes glowing baleful red. She gasped in surprise, in abject terror. The figure was a man-wolf. The head of a big, grey canine monster on the humanized form of a man. It opened its mouth, letting out a low, guttural growl, revealing razor sharp fangs.

  Black fur covered a form she recognized as mostly human, though impossibly muscled and agile, the fingers of each hand ending in long, wicked claws. Slowly she lifted her face and looked up into the burning red eyes with horror, seeing the human intelligence gleaming through.

  Her hand went to her mouth and she began to scream.

  The wolfen creature pounced. Her cry cut short as it scooped her up and she went dumb in surprise. Instead of sharp fang and claw ripping into her, she was instead gathered up in limbs of liquid steel. Crushed into the hard warmth of the thing’s chest, she felt it take off at a dead run, carrying her slight weight with ease.

  After being jerked back and forth during several initial leaps, she instinctively turned into the embrace and clung to him. Her arms and legs wrapped tight around the racing creature and his smell, strong and clean and animal, filled her.

  “B
e silent, girl,” he growled low, “if you would live, be still. The Wild Hunt has you in their scent and if we do not reach the safety of the tower we’re both doomed.”

  She buried her face in the hollow of its throat and clung like a baby in the arms of its father. At first he ran upright, on two legs, but once assured she was holding on, it bent so that the arm not engaged with supporting her reached the ground, and in that moment they began to fly.

  Ground flashed by beneath them, wind created by their swift passage swept over them and the frantic beating of her heart began to merge as one with the strong, sure beats of his.

  But if the sounds of pursuit were any indication, it would do no good. The hunt continued drawing close, the light of the tower seemingly just as far now as it had been in the beginning. Her savior seemed to sense the futility as well. Instead of plunging forward in an outright race, he now began taking evasive actions, darting this way, and then back, trying to confuse the scent.

  The ruins of an old stone and sod structure appeared out of the mist and, in the next moment, half a dozen arrows knifed out of the gloom behind them and pounded into the soft wood of the rotting logs.

  She felt the massive frame cradling her shudder as the lupine warrior yelped and one of the those cruel, black iron arrowheads cut into him. He threw himself to the left, crossing behind the ruin. She dared to look when hot blood began splashing her upturned face, and she saw the last thing she wanted to see; the stone circle of a cistern.

  Without hesitating, the wolfen clambered over the lip and plunged down the shaft. Despite herself, she screamed. They plunged into blackness. There was a confusion of movement she realized was more akin to a child scrambling over a jungle gym than to falling down a well—a feeling she was uncomfortably familiar with as of late—and then they were in a hollowed den dug into the wall.