by Roxie Noir
The Monstrous Coupling Copyright © 2015 Roxie Noir
All rights reserved.
This book is intended for audiences 18 and over only.
The cover model is just a model, not someone who endorses or even knows about this book.
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The Monstrous Coupling
Roxie Noir
Previously on The Erotic Adventures:
Heraklea stood, still wrapped in her bedsheets, in the largest hall she had ever seen. She wasn’t even positive that she was indoors; she thought she saw a vaulting silver ceiling high above, but it could have been the sky. The floor was white marble, polished to a high shine and cold on her bare feet. Fifty feet away was a golden dais, columns on either side of the dais that went so high she couldn’t see their tops. The dais had six steps leading up to it, and on it were perched two enormous thrones, gold, the armrests carved in intricate patterns and figurines. Hunters chased deer, boars, lions across the thrones; women swooned; men drank from vases.
What really concerned Heraklea was the two people in the thrones. For one thing, they seemed slightly larger than people should be. Not giants, but slightly wrong, too large by a quarter. For another, they were more beautifully dressed that anyone she had seen before: the man’s robes and the woman’s dress were shot through with threads of silver and gold, and each wore a heavily jeweled diadem on their head. The man had a gray mane and beard that gave him a slightly wild look, mismatched to his immaculate clothing, the immaculate room; the woman had dark hair and bright violet eyes. Heraklea had never seen eyes that color before.
She didn’t need a map to tell her where she was: this was Mount Olympus, home of the gods, and these two were Zeus and Hera, the king and queen. Heraklea pulled her sheet more firmly around her and wished she were properly dressed. Technically, Zeus was her father or, at least, he had sown his seed in her mother’s womb under false pretenses. Amphitryon was her father, as far as she was concerned. But her feelings on the matter probably weren’t going to be much use with Hera, who was notoriously jealous of Zeus’ conquests and notoriously nasty to the subsequent offspring.
“First she fucks half of Greece, then you try and marry her off and she fucks her husband half to death,” Hera continued, looking down at Heraklea like she was a particularly revolting insect.
Zeus leaned on one fist, ignoring Hera. “What are we going to do with you?” he said.
Silence. Heraklea looked from one to the other and back again. “Is Lykos dead?” she finally asked, her voice sounding tiny in the great hall.
“Not yet,” said Hera. “Just fucked into a coma. Never seen anything like it. Have you, darling? You’ve got more experience in that sort of thing.”
Zeus frowned and continued to ignore his wife. “It’s unfortunate you turned out female. Everyone expects this behavior of a rich young man.”
“Helen never acted like this,” Hera said.
“I’m sorry,” Heraklea said, tearing up. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“No,” rumbled Zeus. “But still, you must atone.”
“King Eurystheus has been having a lot of problems lately, down in Argos,” Hera said. “He could use some help killing monsters.”
“Hmm, yes,” Zeus said. “Maybe that will exhaust you.”
Hera smirked, her beautiful face an ill-concealed mask of rage. “He’s a very demanding man,” she said. “You’re to do anything and everything that he asks of you, or you’ll be his servant forever.”
“Go then,” Zeus said, and with a wave of his hand, golden light filled Heraklea’s vision again, and when she could see again, she found herself in a smaller room, though still grand, in front of another throne, a surprised-looking king on it.
“No,” Heraklea said.
The guard, usually impossible to read, raised his eyes and started, just a little, with surprise. Then he frowned. He cleared his throat.
“The king requests your presence,” he said again.
“I heard you the first time,” Heraklea said. She was lying on a couch, outdoors in the palace’s courtyard, watching two young men play handball against each other. Both of their young wives sat off to the side, pretending to be interested in the match, but she’d have bet serious money that the two men were lovers and couldn’t have cared less about the wives. She was usually right about these sorts of things.
The guard just stood there. Klea shaded her eyes against the sun and looked at him, shifting around uncomfortably where he stood. She could practically see words form in his brain and then dissipate over and over, as he tried to communicate the urgency he felt: the king had asked to see her. She couldn’t just say no.
She laid back and lowered her hand, closing her eyes. She counted to ten, but when she opened them, the guard was still standing there, watching her nervously.
“Just tell him I said I wasn’t coming,” she finally said to the poor man, who snapped to attention at the sound of her voice. “He’ll believe you.”
The guard shifted a little more where he stood. Then he saluted her, looked confused for a moment because she wasn’t someone he was supposed to salute, seemed to panic, and marched off quickly. Klea sighed and wondered what the king would do for that bit of insubordination. The answer, she knew, was likely nothing.
She settled back and watched the two young men act like they didn’t want to fuck. It was a diversion, at least.
It was right after dinner when the second guard came.
“The king wishes to see you now,” he said, speaking to her in the hall of the palace, both of them surrounded by other fancy people who’d just eaten with her.
“Well, I don’t wish to see the king,” Klea said in what she thought was a very reasonable tone. Immediately, the entire hall went quiet as everyone looked at her and then looked away. They all made a studied effort to act excruciatingly normal, but she could still tell that their ears were fully pricked up, just waiting on the next salacious detail.
“I’ve been authorized to tell you one more time,” the guard said, his whole body quivering with tension. Klea could tell that something serious was about to happen, from the way his hand twitched near his sword, to the way he kept looking around like he was watching the exits. Every eye in the place was turned to the two of them, him standing and her sitting, staring at each other.
Klea picked up her wine goblet and took a sip, never breaking eye contact with the man. She put it back calmly and leaned back into her chair.
“I’ve been authorized to tell you to fuck off,” she said.
Immediately she was surrounded by three men who lifted her out of her chair by her elbows and threw her on the table, spilling wine and leftovers everywhere, nearly sticking her face in what was left of a giant roast. Two of them held her while a third bound her in chains from wrist to elbow, holding her down by the hair. Despite months of trying to seduce them, it was the most any of the guards had ever touched her.
Klea liked it rough. She wasn’t afraid of them, and she didn’t mind them binding her like this. She’d even fantasized about it before. When they stood her up and marched her to the king’s chambers, she had wine spilled down half her dress and bits of food on one shoulder, her hair coming undone.
They marched her in with no preamble, not bothering to knock. The king sat in a big chair, not quite a throne, though it was up on a platform. This was his private hall, the place where he heard complaints that he did
n’t feel like sitting in the Great Hall for, but right now he was in full regalia: a thin gold crown, linens draped around him, gold rings on almost every finger, tall scepter in one hand, planted on the floor.
“It wasn’t a request,” he said.
Klea looked around for the belt. A few days ago she’d seduced the Amazon queen into giving her a particular gold belt at the king’s request—a belt he said was for a lady friend of his. To even her own surprise, Klea had been furious: she’d been fucking monsters and men at the king’s insistence, and while she didn’t mind, when he told her about his lady friend she realized that, at the end of it, she’d been hoping for something more from him, too. She didn’t want to just be some slut who’d fuck anything; she wanted to be some slut who’d fuck anything who the king liked. It was a minor but important difference.
“What do you want?” she said.
He smiled. “Can’t I just want to see you?” His eyes traveled down her body, from her disheveled hair to the wine stain on her dress, to her breasts thrust forward by her bound arms, which were beginning to ache.
“What do you see when you see me?” she snarled, pulling against the two guards who still held her. “Do you see me fucking a centaur or four? Or maybe getting held down and reamed by a giant? Or licking the Amazon’s pussy until she comes? You like thinking about that?”
His smile diminished and he sat up straighter. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“When you sent me to Crete did you think I was going to fuck a bull? That was the story you told me while you got a half-chub.”
“You seem to have seriously misinterpreted my words,” the king said.
Klea stopped struggling against the guards. “Maybe you don’t want to just think about it anymore,” she said. She smiled a nasty smile. “Maybe I could fuck all your guards, right here, right now, and you could watch.”
He looked at her, his face absolutely unreadable.
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’ve been trying to get one of them to fuck me ever since I set foot in this palace. I know how I’d do the three of them, practically at once.”
The king sat forward the tiniest bit. Klea took this as a cue to go on.
“First,” she said, nodding at the guard to her left. “I’d take off his tunic and suck his cock. This one,” she nodded at the guard behind her, “would at least like to watch. He might fuck men. I’m not sure. But he’d get hard just watching me do it, so I’d suck him off too. I’d switch between them. I can deep throat a cock, no problem. But you probably knew that, because you heard about it.”
The room was utterly silent while she paused.
“That one,” she said, nodding her head toward the one on the right, “has the best cock. Don’t worry, I’ve done my homework. Him I’d let plow me while I finished blowing the gay one,” she nodded her head behind her, “because you can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman’s mouth on your dick if your eyes are closed. I’d swallow his load and he—“ she tilted her head right “—would unload all over me. Then it’s his turn.”
The king had leaned forward another fraction of an inch, an intent look on his face as he listened.
Klea leaned forward just a little, her captors still holding her arms, steadying herself against them.
“Him I’d let fuck me in the ass. God, I love a good ass fucking, and I bet you’d love watching it. Maybe you’d want to join in, but I don’t think you could. I think you like watching, not doing, so you’d watch him go balls-deep with every stroke and hear me scream as I come from his big, beautiful cock, over and over again, until he finally blows inside me.”
Their eyes locked, hers glittering with rage, his unreadable.
“I think we’d both enjoy that scenario quite a bit,” she said. She looked at his lap, a pile of folded linen from his formal wear, unable to tell if he had an erection or not. She was sure turned on as hell.
“Fascinating,” the king said, leaning back again. “Unfortunately, I need you to get something for me.”
“Sure,” said Klea. “What am I fucking now?”
He looked at her again for a moment, then began rubbing his scepter with one hand, looking at that.
“A monster has stolen some cattle that I own,” he said. “They’re very nice cattle, and they fetch quite a price every year. I’d like them back.”
“Or what?” she asked.
“Or I tell Zeus our arrangement didn’t work out,” he said. “And I can’t imagine your next punishment will be much nicer.”
Even though she was furious, Klea knew that the king had a point. She took deep breaths and tried to let her rage subside, tried to not notice the satisfaction the king had gotten from her gangbang-themed tirade. She tried not to think about the fact that he’s likely jerk off to it later, and then give his lavish gifts to some other woman, probably some chaste girl her own age who didn’t fuck monsters for fun. That was always how these things worked.
“Fine,” she said.
“Take her to her chambers,” the king said to the three guards. “She’ll behave now.”
The next day, Heraklea set out in her armor with her bow and arrow and sword at her side, even though she figured she wouldn’t need them. She hadn’t really needed them yet, as all her problems could be solved with a good fucking, it turned out.
It was two long days of riding before she got to the town the monster was said to be in. The villagers pointed her in the right direction, toward a mountain range, the only path in through a deep canyon, rock faces on either side. As she neared, she could hear the cattle lowing.
Klea considered just going in there, armorless and weaponless, tearing off her dress, and shouting for the monster to come take her. That’s what was most likely to happen, anyway, she figured.
She wondered if the king was thinking of her, right now. He knew how long it took to get to Erytheia, the village where she was; she knew what the monster Geryon looked like, because he’d had his guards tell her: part man, part lion, and part dragon. She imagined the king, in his own bed, no guards in the room, taking out his cock and stroking it slowly, playing with the balls a little, thinking of her riding some beast mercilessly. Maybe when she got back she’d tell him all about it, ask if he liked that sort of thing.
The thought got her a little bit wet.
The canyon narrowed further, now not much more than seventy feet across, and she heard the cows even more loudly than before. Her back was to the rock and she eased around a corner, sword out, knowing that Geryon could be anywhere. If her other monster encounters were anything to go by, it’d be asleep in a cave—they always seemed to be in caves for some reason—and she’d lure it out, fuck it, and then take the cattle home while it slept.
So, she wasn’t listening too hard or feeling too worried about the encounter. It usually all worked out. She rounded another corner, listening to the cows and beginning to smell them, back to the solid rock wall that rose a couple hundred feet. Klea leaned away from the rock to peek out.
That’s how it got her. She felt claws close around her upper arms, jerking them upward and drawing blood. She dropped her sword and her shield, surprised but struggling as the thing that had it in her claws flew up and away, carrying her high over the rocky canyon. In the distance, red-brown cows—the king’s cows—looked like toys and then like dots. Klea stopped struggling, knowing it was more dangerous to fall onto the rocks at this height than it was to go wherever she was being taken.
While in the air, she came up with a plan. She still had her arrows in her quiver, so when it dropped her, she’d roll over quickly, take one, and stab it in the belly before it could begin to do... whatever it was going to do to her. Meanwhile, she tried to enjoy the beautiful view of Greece: the olive tree covered hills, the blue water, the picturesque little huts everywhere.
Finally, she saw the nest: an arrangement of straw and tree branches, perched on a high cliff in a little hollow. She prepared herself to be tossed into it and landed
on her hands and knees.
Immediately she reached over her head to take an arrow out of her quiver, the creature’s still-beating wings tossing her hair, making her afraid she’d fall over the cliff, but something else grabbed the quiver off of her back and threw it over the side of the cliff.
Klea was defenseless and could only turn over onto her back, both arms in front of her face, to see what it was, exactly, that Geryon looked like.
As she did, he landed nearly on top of her, one big paw with razor-sharp claws on her breastplate, pressing her down into the nest, hard.
“We were having such a lovely time,” the head said.
Klea had never seen anything quite so bizarre. The creature’s head was human, perched on a neck that was slightly too long, but square-jawed, bearded and good-looking. The neck led to the front part of a lion’s body with feline front legs, paws, and claws, but dragon’s wings sprouted from its back, now neatly folding against the fur. The two back legs were the talons that had picked her up in the first place, scaly and green, and these led to a long, whiplike tail that lashed back and forth. Klea could barely breathe from the creature’s weight on top of her.
“Were we?” she asked.
“It’s so rare that I see lovely women like you in my canyon,” he said. “It does get lonely.”
With that, his long tail began to wind its way up her leg as he held her down. It moved beneath her armored skirt and traced its way across her upper thighs, flicking back and forth over her mound. For a tail, he seemed to have an incredible amount of control over it.
“Why’d you take the cattle?” Klea asked, hoping to get his mind off of their current status.
The lion part of the monster shrugged. “I get bored sometimes, too,” he said. His tail continued flicking back and forth, and despite herself, Klea felt her body begin to respond. She had a hard time not getting turned off by a skilled appendage in that region, fully human or not.
