Menage Bk 1: Stephanie's Menage

by Mari Byrne

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  STEPHANIE’S MENAGE

  An Ellora’s Cave publication written by

  MARI BYRNE

  MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-315-2

  Mobipocket (PRC) ISBN # 1-84360-316-0

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), & HTML

  © Copyright Mari Byrne, 2003.

  All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave.

  Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. USA

  Ellora's Cave Ltd, UK

  This e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author permission.

  Edited by Marty Klopfenstein

  Cover Art by Darrell King

  Warning:

  The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. STEPHANIE’S MENAGE has been rated NC17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…

  To: T, C, & T, Angela’s SPs, Roberts, Smith, and DezDot

  Many thanks for encouraging my dream!

  Special thanks to Liddy, Boot Camp instructor Extraordinaire.

  Treva, who always answers my cries.

  And Ann, who should win a medal for this one!

  Prologue

  "You shame our people by suggesting there is not one single woman in our entire world good enough to be your bride." The Queen's flowing gown twirled as she turned sharply in her pacing. "Why must you go to the mortal world? There are plenty here in Aranak who would give their daughters to you both."

  "Mother. We've had this conversation before," Kristain started out calmly. "This family, this Monarchy, needs new blood." He paused and gave her a disgusted look. "Hell, for that matter, this World needs new blood and well you know it. You must see this is the only way."

  Without looking away from his mother, Kristain, using the telepathic link every twin on Aranak is born with, asked Mitch to stand beside him.

  Mitch lazily straightened from his lounging position and strolled leisurely over to stand at his brother's side.

  I don't care if she can hear us or not. Kristain stated, his calmness disintegrating. We're going, and in this she has no say.

  Brother mine, Mitch answered sarcastically, you preach to the converted. You need to tell your Queen, not me.

  For reasons beyond Kristain's understanding, their mother couldn't always read her people, let alone her own children, though the reading of all her peoples' minds should have come with her acceptance of the crown.

  Mitch watched as his mother came to an abrupt stop, then with a quiet menace about her, turned around looking from one son to the other.

  "You have already made your choice and nothing I say will change your mind."

  The two brothers stared back impassively.

  "So be it. The consequences are yours to bear." With those last words she went to a door, hidden behind her throne and stormed through it, slamming it behind her.

  Kristain stared after their retreating mother for a moment, then turned to Mitch.

  "Well, that went well. Shall we go then?"

  Mitch slapped his brother on the back and turned him toward the door. "And here I thought you were going to be the one to convince her. But now I see the only way we’ll ever convince Queen Sara of our determination to seek a bride elsewhere is when we present our bride as a fait accompli."

  Kristain sighed heavily, "I thought perhaps she would be more amenable to the idea if we gave her time." He started toward the door. "Now I see our trip through the portal is the only way she’ll take us seriously."

  Mitch nodded his head in agreement. "We have to start somewhere and I’ve always had a good feeling about Earth. We’ll find our mate there. I know it.”

  So, this is Earth? Mitch looked around as he and Kristain made their way toward the buildings ahead of them in the distance.

  It wasn't so very different from Aranak.

  Kristain turned and Mitch heard his thoughts. In fact, I think there might be even less difference than we previously thought. I don't think it’ll take very long for us to find our bride and return home.

  Mitch turned his gaze away from an intriguing woman who had caught his eye as he scoped the lay of the land and eyed his brother skeptically. Let us hope so. I don't want to spend more time away from home than we have to. The laws Mother could implement while we're gone stagger my imagination.

  Kristain nodded in agreement. Both men squared their shoulders, and readied themselves for the search to come.

  * * * * *

  "Defy me, will they! They think I'm so out of touch with my people I don't know what is said? Damn ungrateful frechie twins! Those two have absolutely no respect for their mother!" Sara strode in half circles around the luxuriously appointed suite of rooms, taking things at will and dashing them against the farthest wall she could reach.

  "My own flesh and blood defies me at every turn!" Sara shrieked. "Their father Dain was the same. I don't care how the people suffer! They were put here for ME! They serve MY pleasure!" Picking up a priceless object, Sara cocked her arm back and threw it at the door as hard as she could. Mere seconds after the crash, the door opened.

  "Temper, temper, QUEEN Sara," a thin voice chided. "Where is the stunning beauty with grace, poise, and infinite patience, the one I crowned so long ago?" The new arrival shuffled her way toward Sara, who once again was reaching out for the nearest object. Her choice was indeed poor, for she picked up a thin glass bell, one in danger of shattering at the slightest touch.

  "Don't even think it!" The brittle voice shrieked.

  Sara froze in her tracks as the voice, laced with fury, bellowed the warning.

  Turning her head slowly, Sara looked toward the old crone whose voice had moments ago been that of an old and frail woman and suddenly was that of a vengeful mother hellbent on murder.

  Shakily, Sara looked toward her hand where she held the "Bell of Coronation". In her rage she had picked up the one object guaranteed to bring about the fall of her own empire. The legend of the bell held that if the bell peals when a new queen rings it at her inauguration, she is the true queen. If, however, a queen who is not the true queen rings the bell, the jewel will shatter.

  “Why?” Sara growled, and cupping the object to study it, seemed to wilt.

  The paper-thin beveled glass she held was a thing of Beauty. Rimmed with 24kt. solid gold and crowned at the top of the handle with four stones. An emerald, a ruby, and a diamond, with a fourth stone atop the three as the pièce de résistance. The fourth stone, called a zarak, named for its creation close to the mountains of Zarnak, came from the farthest regions of Azaya. Very few of the gemstones existed. Zarak took on the color of its surroundings and shimmered more brilliantly than a diamond. There were only two like it in The Royal Aranak collection. One, the largest zarak ever found, could be found in the scepter, while the second stone topped the Bell of Coronation.

  “I mean, it’s gorgeous and all, but it only ever rang once for me.” Years of frustrated pain laced her voice.

  The Crone spoke once again, still without sympathy in her voice.

  “I told you. In our bargain, you knew that it would o
nly ever ring once. You agreed that it was all you wanted. Besides, it is part of the royal collection and would be sorely missed were it to break. Do not blame me now if you aren’t satisfied with the bargain.”

  Anger sounded in Sara’s voice as she spoke now.

  “Do not preach to me. I want it to ring again. I want it to sound out through the halls of this palace and the countryside and let the people of Aranak know that I am the true queen. No one can take my place.” Since the inauguration, any time the queen had touched it, no sound emitted from the priceless artifact.

  “You agreed to the terms and you know you can’t go back on them. It is done and no amount of screaming and raging at your fate will change that.” The Crone paused. “Move on and use that rage to further your desires.”

  To the Crone, the magic that had allowed Sara to get what she wanted was the bottom line. The deal they had struck had given Sara what she wanted, and the Crone the leftovers. Sara thought it was a perfect bargain and the Crone was more than happy for Sara to think her motives, or the payoff, were nothing for the Crone.

  The old woman watched as Sara, resigned now, slowly replaced the priceless artifact in its pillowed niche.

  "Now," the voice of the crone was once again thin and wavery. "If you've had enough acting like a two year old spoiled brat, I do believe there was something you wanted to discuss." The old hag resumed her shuffling walk as she spoke and now stopped at a chair resplendent in silk and satin fabrics. The poor, starved and downtrodden laborers who had slaved over the fabric were merely the tiniest faction of the realm this Queen had angered, ostracized, or outright beat into submission.

  “Tell me Sara, would this display have anything to do with your sons being unenlightened in regards to what extent you’ve driven the Queendom of Aranak and its people? The fighting between Aranak and the Horrdian people over a slight done to your ego? The revenue generated by laws created to stock your coffers instead of our Queendom?” A sly smile played across the old woman’s wrinkled lips, “Or perhaps your penchant to pick only from the line of the royal families for your playthings? Systematic slaughter in anything is a true form of art in my mind, but would it be to your sons?”

  “Damn you. No. They know nothing but what I want them to know. This has only to do with them choosing my successor. It’s enough I have to deal with those two, now they want me to give up all I hold dear! It’s enough to drive a mother to homicide.”

  "There, there, dear. Let us speak of other things." The old crone soothed the woman who would see the downfall of not only her children, but also the Empire this unfit Queen had begun to destroy some twenty years ago.

  It didn’t take much to distract Sara from her anger as the Crone had learned over the years. This time, she had ammunition that would drive Queen Sara wild.

  “If there’s nothing else you’d care to discuss, I have a little treat for you. A little something which came into my care that I’d like to leave with you. Since we’ll eventually need someone to give its life for our little plan to work, I thought you’d like to get what you could out of it first.”

  “A treat? For me? I thought you were just going to use one of the Horrd peasants for the ritual. It shouldn’t take more than a lowly servant to propel you to the Earth realm in order to interfere with Mitch and Kristain.”

  “Well dear, this subject should do nicely. He has a touch of royal blood and a body…well, look for yourself.” With a wave of her gnarled fist, the Crone opened a door and Sara watched in glee as a virile young man walked through it.

  Ahhh…Dorian Goreon. A distant cousin of her husbands and with a body she had kept a lecherous eye on for some time now. A fine, sculpted specimen of a young man, one who would serve both their purposes well.

  "Come forward, young man." Sara barely noticed the excited thrill in her voice and congratulated herself. Her voice sounded as strong and youthful as it had twenty years ago when she’d made the deal with the old Crone to kill her remaining husband and rule alone.

  Thank the gods Laric, her husband’s twin, had died early and she hadn't needed to go through with the planned double marriage. The brothers might have been her mates, if not exactly her chosen mates. Besides, she hadn't cared for the fact she would have two men hounding her after they were married. No, the two were stepping-stones to the throne and she had gone along with the marriage plans for that reason alone.

  After she and Dain had married, and once she’d had her twins, it had been all she could do not to crow at the fact Laric had died early. She didn't know what all the fuss had been about over finding your chosen ones, even if her mates had seemed happy enough. She hadn't felt much of anything except joy at finally finding a means to gaining her throne.

  Her only regret was she hadn't had girls before Laric or Dain’s death. Her lineage wouldn't truly be carried on through her own offspring. No, the "fresh blood" her Horrd-like son Mitch and his prissy brother Kristain were insisting on would bastardize her lineage instead.

  A smile grew wide on her face and she began to giggle at thoughts of the ritual she would soon undertake to thwart her sons’ plan.

  "Yes, Lovely." Sara said as her full attention returned to the young man. She enjoyed giving them a secret nickname before the playtime began. She would appreciate this one fully before his time came to die.

  "Yes, My Queen. What will you have of me?"

  His deep voice sent shivers of pleasure straight to her already wet pussy. So caught up in the feast laid out before her, she reached down to touch herself. She continued to build the tension strumming between her legs with her own hand as she spoke.

  "Strip and stretch yourself fully!" Still stroking herself in pleasure, she reached out to grasp the short bullwhip sitting on a table beside her. The sound of the leather snapping on flesh was one of the most sinful sounds she had ever heard. And soon, it would be the sound of the lash hitting her toy’s flesh that brought her to her ultimate satisfaction.

  Sara’s eyes glazed slightly as she watched the man before her disrobe thoroughly and take his hard length in his hand while beginning to massage it. No thought was given to the old woman who even now watched with jaded eyes. No, Sara’s only thoughts were for the cock now stretching before her hungry stare.

  He would understand before long what would happen if he came too quickly. Sara would enjoy stripping his skin from his body. But it wouldn't matter one way or the other what the man did. The young stud before her would soon be dying a bloody death.

  The Crone chanted verses in an ancient tongue as Sara rode the young stallion's phallus for the seventeenth time that night. The young man had indeed been virile for he had refused every drop of the aphrodisiac offered.

  Not that it mattered anyway. All that had been in the tonic was something to make his shaft hard for a long period of time. The Crone knew it was the degrading sexual acts themselves that built the power. Anything to make the participants uncomfortable, even their arousal, fed the ritual as nothing else could.

  It was a blessing the Queen favored her pleasures on the rougher side and it wasn’t long before the Crone's ears perked up as she heard the all too familiar pant and moan of climax.

  Reaching into the folds of her franki, the ritual robe of an Aranak Witchling, for the harkie dagger, she waited patiently, kneeling at the head of the youth. The ritual words and the harkie would send the soul of Sara’s stud to the realm the brothers had passed into and allow the Crone to guide him to do her bidding.

  Thinking only of the ritual soon to be performed, the Crone slowly brought the dagger over Lovely’s head continuing the chant, and waited for the scream of his climax. Soon, she too would have all she desired.

  Sara threw her head back as her hips ground down on Lovely's large cock seeking her ultimate pleasure. Climax!

  Hearing a hard gasping moan escape from the man under her, she dropped her head forward with the intention of admonishing her stallion not to erupt before she did, only to stare into the gleaming edge of a
blade.

  The Crone knelt at the head of Lovely waiting for just the right moment to slit his throat. Anger churned inside her, almost completely obliterating her feelings of sweet agony. Her first thought was to reach out and grab the dagger from the Crone and toss it to the side where she had no way of interfering in Sara’s fun. Instead, she glared hard at her and shouted.

  "Let it be!" Sara’s hips continued to rock back and forth as she spat her orders out at the Crone. "Leave us! NOW! When I have finished, you may then proceed! Not a moment before…aaahhhh!"

  Sara’s voice raised an octave as Lovely ground his pelvis upward, slamming his cock harder into her cunt. Her only thought when she caught her breath was if Lovely wanted it rough, she'd sure as hell accommodate him!

  Panting as she spoke, Sara reached for her own weapon as she watched the Crone scuttle back in horror at the look she saw on Sara’s face.

  "That's right bitch! Baaaaack offff!" Her orgasm was right on top of her and so close to breaking the tiniest movement would set her off. She tried to still the youth beneath her with pressure from her thighs, but he was having none of it. He pumped his hips faster and harder causing Sara to reach down to grasp onto his shoulders in an effort to hang on.

  He too was close to climax and wouldn't be denied. Thrusting harshly, breath coming in great big gasps, it took two more pumps of his hips to have them both screaming out their releases in long, painful, wheezes.

  When some semblance of normal breathing returned and the blackness receded from her vision, Sara looked down at Lovely lying underneath her and spoke.

  "It's a shame you just did that." She purred softly. "While wonderful, I told you not to come before I had given permission. For this infraction, you'll receive the end of my lash once again, and we'll start at the beginning. We’ll go all night until you get it right if we have to."