Moon slave 6 | phallus bdsm stories

‘Help yourself to an orifice,’ smiled the seneschal, watching as Kira’s eyes widened with dolour.

‘Thank you, seneschal, I think I shall,’ replied the diabolic female, rising from her seat, the slave girl gasping new breaths to recover, her face wet with the juices of the succubus. The other woman dropped the captive legs aside and flopped beside the girl, clamping a hand over her mouth, dragging the back of her head firmly into her chest, the other steering the strap-on into the untouched anus of the maid. A jerk of motion had the length fill her, and she choked against the muting hand. The devil girl started to thrust, opening her hands, letting the slave suckle on her malformed fingers, treating them to a display of mock fellatio as a forked tongue lapped and ran along her neck.

With a spry leap Hyrthuz jumped from one divan to the other, her landing causing a rippling disturbance to wash through the structure. Stepping boldly forward, her hands danced before her loins, her fingers crackling with a malignant power, the thin arcs of radiance pouring into her flesh, altering it, sculpting it like clay and encouraging prolific growth.

The seneschal pulled at the lead, towing Kira’s face in nearer to her loins. Once it was sufficiently close she let go and reached forward, enclosing a hand into Kira’s hair, to force her mouth tightly against her clitoris.

‘Present yourself, slave,’ she commanded with a soft voice, drinking again of Kira’s flitting tongue.

With concern, Kira did as she was told, trusting herself to the rule of her seneschal. Shuffling her knees back she lifted her rear, her knees slightly apart.

‘Mmmm, now that’s quite a sight!’ complimented the woman. The two-fingered hands of the beast took hold of her buttocks and ran along them, testing the surfaces, examining her more physically after her visual assessment of Kira’s merits. ‘Very nice,’ commented the female, and with a tug Kira’s underwear was drawn down, exposing her in full to the bizarre and fell form.

A warm tip laid upon the base of her spine, and moving back the woman trailed the rigid length through the valley of her rear. As it was about to fall free she shoved forward, drilling into Kira’s belly. The sudden rude filling of her womb by a massive penis made her jump in response, hurling a startled wail into her seneschal’s tracts. The acute sensation continued, the woman having sorcerously changed sexual organs, creating a monster of a manhood that pounded into Kira. Her eyes flashed wide, her mouth working in fits and starts, her senses scrambled by the sheer volume she was accepting. Even Thanos had not proven this titanic a burden.

The thrusts lifted her knees from the divan, the tip pushing to her very limits, and the size of the intruder by no means distracted from its skill. It was being used with an expertise that would have had her in bliss had it been a faction of the size, but coupled with perfect dimensions and sterling skill she was almost losing her mind from the rhythmic stab deep into her.

Her head jerked up as she howled, the talons of the woman having drawn apart further, pulling at her cheeks and sliding thumbs against her, etching two shallow grooves, the sudden pain exquisite in its intensity. During her yell she clapped her hands to her own breasts, squeezing them, massaging them as her song merged with the multitudes of groans and cries that spilled through the air of the hall, forced from dozens of stressed throats.

Taking advantage of Kira’s unauthorised break in duty, the seneschal nimbly flipped over onto her front, casting her legs wide, the tendons of her inner thighs taut as she offered her rear to Kira’s moist lips.

The hands of the female went to new work, her left grabbing Kira’s hair in the seneschal’s stead, the other reaching under to play Kira’s clitoris with the back of a nail. The grip in her hair forced her face into the milky valley of the seneschal’s rear, her lips kissing the smooth sphincter of her owner. Her tongue spilled recklessly forth, sliding in, the ring tightening against the organ, making Kira fight to keep going as the demonic lover continued to dig deeply into her. Forcing her tongue in as far as she could, Kira threw it back and forth in imitation of meagre penetration, the slippery saliva dripping from her chin, the scent of the seneschal’s sex rising as thin lines of fluid started to mark the fur beneath them.

The female started to draw out her attentions, slowly gliding her full shaft into Kira until she met resistance and then hauled back with more speed before conducting another leisurely drive. Kira moaned with every plummet into her, the penetration making her quake and realise now that the other succubus was not wearing an imitation phallus. It was not an artificial construct being driven into the sobbing maid beside them, but a conjured embellishment of real flesh and blood.

Kira’s hands deserted her breasts and reached to the seneschal, continuing her play of the woman’s loins, her fingers working into the humid sex of her owner as her tongue continued to feast on her rear. Kira could feel herself building towards climax in leaps and bounds.

Every thrust brought her closer and closer, her body shaking as it tried to ready itself for the maelstrom.

‘No, not yet, slave,’ warned the demonic partner, continuing her relentless drives, aiming into new regions to tax every part of her insides. ‘Don’t dare come before I let you!’ Kira tried to defeat the will of her body, to make her mind the more decisive force. ‘That’s it. Good girl. Now keep yourself under control,’ ordered the woman, flicking Kira’s clitoris, her other hand reaching down and snagging a nipple ring, manipulating the jewellery to tease her further.

‘Please, please let me have permission,’ Kira whimpered into her seneschal’s loins, her mind burning with need, unable to hold back the inevitable any longer.

She felt as though she were going to detonate. She had to orgasm, she could not hold on any longer, she just couldn’t.

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, slave!’ berated the woman, clamping both hands to Kira’s breasts, compressing them spitefully, the wicked talons adding to the severity of the embrace. In addition she rotated and gouged with her length, using it as a weapon to have Kira cry out in sorrow.

‘I’m sorry, my lady, I’m sorry, I’ll hold on,’ she grizzled, her words panted through locked teeth, the venom having washed back her exaltation.

The hands became instantly gentler, toying with her teats as the length returned to a more satisfying method of insertion, restoring her undeniable ascent towards fulfilment. Between filling her mouth with her owner’s rear, her hands burrowing into cool, inviting sex, and being thrust callously into, Kira had no hope of obeying such orders for much longer.

‘Okay slave, now,’ growled the woman, breaking into thrashing drives. ‘I said now!’ she roared vehemently, the last drives causing Kira to break into wild throes, her body torn by exquisite ecstasy, carried upon the thrusts.

Her hindquarters seemed to liquefy, the burning battering ram of a penis grinding into her, drawing out more pleasure than she would have ever thought possible, and screaming into her owner’s womb, the vibrating pitch of her holler carried the seneschal over into orgasm, the two of them riding a crest of delectation.

As soon as the seneschal had been fully pleasured the woman grabbed Kira’s hair and hauled back, removing her from the plate of her mistress, bringing her onto her knees. Upward thrusts continued to lift her up, stealing her breath, a lump in her throat, her arms being tightened from within by flashes of tension. A two-fingered hand clamped across her face, holding her head back, her body resting against the woman as the penis continued to batter her womb, her membranes feeling as though they were aflame. The other slapped to her stomach, pressing in to feel the shuffle of movement deep within her; the rounded tip of her phallus as it migrated within Kira.

The woman cast her off like a soiled garment, dropping her to the divan beside her owner, and screaming in rapture Kira almost fainted from the intensity removal brought. Laying curled into a ball, holding tightly to herself, her limbs spasming, her insides shaking, Kira battled to weather the hurricane of sensuality whirling within her.

‘Kiss,’ came a voice, and she managed to open her tear-filled eyes enough to see through a distorted pane of water and bear witness to the object of her ravishment.

Obediently she moved her head forward and kissed the head of the flushed length, before dropping back into her recuperative state.

‘Good girl,’ commented Hyrthuz, the raging shaft retreating, being absorbed into its owner and restoring her previous gender. ‘A fine specimen, seneschal,’ purred the woman, sliding over and exchanging a kiss with the vampiress before rising and returning to her own divan.

‘Did my slave enjoy that?’ asked the seneschal, running the back of her hand over Kira’s temple, and while accepting the touch Kira pulled up her underwear, but before she could answer there was a shrieking cacophony of sound, a merging of tears and rupturing splits that polluted the air, paining the ears with screeching treble and bone-rattling bass.

Flicking her head up Kira saw her seneschal leap from the divan. A spherical plasmic cloud of reds and blacks poured bolts of power inward, the lightning issuing from the air and converging on a single spot. The air rippled and shook under the punishment of the streaks, slowly turning, gathering more speed until it was a tornado of colour and light, then the mystic gale broke away, dying instantly and revealing a group in the eye of the storm.

The seneschal bowed deeply as a mark of welcoming and respect, and Kira’s jaw dropped open as she saw the sorceress Kitjana for the first time in the flesh.

Her jagged crown of jet rolled with her mane of red hair, the shade almost unnatural in its shocking hue. Her sapphire eyes shone like stars, full of amusement and dark intent, bathed in hidden power and knowledge.

Serpentine earrings of silver dangled from her lobes, her features acute and severe, but of a beauty that was easily the equal of the queen. Clad in a silken cloak she flung open the dark folds with a theatrical gesture, revealing herself to the crowd in full.

A strapless bra embraced her torso, pressing her breasts together, forming a cleavage that had Kira aching to settle her features within. Intricate silver studs tipped the cups, and within the cleft of her assets hung a crystal as she had seen on the duke and all the shamanic followers of the Wyrm. The silver chain supported a clear crystal in a thorned embrace. The artefact pulsated with a black and diabolic power, the esoteric creation throwing consuming lines of shadow across her divine physique. A thong of the same burnished fabric hooked straps over her shapely hips while flinging loose suspenders to snatch the black band of fine denier stockings. Regal patent thigh boots clutched to the contours of her succulent legs, setting the already imposing female atop skyscraper heels, the silver metal daggers carved with swirling patterns.

Behind her were several aberrations that may have once been men and women, but were now contorted parodies of their former shapes. Exaggerated of size with overlong limbs full of talons and wriggling cilia, the beasts were muscular and plated with sections of rough carapace, perfecting their image as guardians. Some had extra tentacles, or limbs that ended in serrated bone claws or wicked sets of pincers, the extra arsenal of natural weapons complementing their murderous visage.

‘I bid you welcome Lady Kitjana, may your time here be joyous,’ stated the seneschal as Kitjana stepped forward, lingering trails of acrid steam clinging to her billowing cloak. ‘The property of the queen is at your disposal.’

A set of claws reached forward from behind her and removed the garment, allowing her to simply walk from it, entrusting it to her monstrous servants. ‘Thank you, seneschal, I see that all are here…’ she began, turning her elegant gaze across the scene, acknowledging those she knew and accepting their bows and nods of fealty in response.

‘Except for my Dana… where is she?’ enquired the woman, taking subtle delight in Cassandra’s sudden tensing scowl, the familiarity with which she had addressed her beloved queen greatly riling the seneschal.

‘Her majesty will no doubt attend shortly, my lady. If you would care to take your divan I—’ began the seneschal, indicating with her hand the allotted seat, but Kitjana again deliberately interrupted, dismissing her with casual indifference.

‘Later, I shall acquaint myself with those who are actually present first, seneschal,’ she stated, and walked off towards the other divans, greeting more personally those she knew well, leaving Cassandra virtually trembling with rage, her eyes flashing with resentment.

‘As my lady wishes,’ she spat, the woman already oblivious to the response Cassandra’s etiquette and station demanded she make. ‘Let the entertainment commence!’ she snapped, and with a huff of choler, Cassandra turned on her heel and marched back to her divan.

From the walls doorways opened up, stretching to let new flocks of people wander in and set up. The men and women arranged engines of restraint, and other erogenous devices, strapping down gorgeous slaves to be abused and tormented in ingenious ways, a spectacle for the crowd.

Fire dancers cavorted about the displays of algolagnic vice, juggling their brands, performing astounding feats of gymnastics. Shows of martial skill were also on offer.

Lethal combatants, enhanced by their undead status gave a more barbaric brand of entertainment to those who wished to enjoy the captivating show of combat ability and physical prowess.

The seneschal climbed up and dropped into the softness of her divan. Kira edged cautiously forward and kissed her boots, the act of obeisance failing to distract her owner as she continued to regard Kitjana with bubbling loathing. ‘May I get something for you, seneschal,’ she softly offered, hoping to ease her beloved owner’s strife.

‘Did you hear me ask for anything, slave?’ she barked sharply, making Kira flinch and retreat slightly. Tears started to well in her eyes from being scalded so, her wish being only to placate Cassandra’s wrath, instead she had only succeeded in annoying her further.

The seneschal saw Kira’s appalled reaction and her subsequent vain efforts to hide her distress, so she lifted herself, putting her hand to the face of her property and regarding her with an apologetic expression. ‘Massage my shoulders, my sweet slave,’ she said, unable to break her rigid shell of dominance by openly apologising, instead extending her regrets as best she could.

Kira offered a weak smile, sniffed back her sadness and crawled behind the woman as she sat upright, draping her arms over her knees, exposing her back to her servant.

Taking hold of the rubber-coated muscles and the mesh-sheathed shoulders, Kira began a gentle squeezing and rubbing.

‘Mmmm, that’s much better, slave,’ purred the seneschal, closing her eyes and drifting on the results of the tender care. ‘Once I’ve seen to the guests we’ll have to spend some time together, my little Kira. Would you enjoy that?’

‘Yes, seneschal, I’ll look forward to it,’ she said honestly, working her thumbs along Cassandra’s spine as her fingers continued to massage her neck. ‘Just you, me, and my demerits.’

‘Hungry for some discipline are we, slave?’ smiled the seneschal, letting her head loll forward for a moment before it jumped back up, her senses having detected something. ‘The queen!’ she exclaimed with glee, vanishing from beneath Kira’s hands and jumping back to the floor. With the sudden loss of her charge, Kira dropped forward onto her hands, recovering her balance.

With a sneer of anger her fingers curled into the fur, her jaw wriggling with rancour. Yet again the queen had stolen her love from her. Cassandra leapt at every glance and word of the queen, forsaking Kira every time she opened her lips. Kira’s resentment of the vampiress was starting to turn into actual hatred. It was a highly dangerous emotion to bear, one that could well destroy her, resolving her to either eradicating it or hiding it exceptionally well, but it was consuming her from within.

If she did not love her owner so, she would try and find a way to strip away Cassandra’s seneschal status, to make them both slaves again. They would be equal and together, unseen and unnoticed, placed where the queen could not affect them with duty.

A plan formed through her red haze of fury, and with a smile she considered how to take the title of seneschal for herself, not to rob her beloved of it, but to swap places, and make sure Cassandra was at her beck and call, not the queen’s.

No sooner had the seneschal’s heels touched the floor than a section of wall parted to allow the powerful vampiress a means to march majestically in. Still dressed in her comprehensive latex garment, polished shoulder-pieces now adorned her shoulders. The metal sections of armour ascended to peaks and were studded with a rim of dark gems. These shoulder-pieces held a long flowing cloak of black silk, the shimmering veil trailing behind her as she strode forward.

Scampering on all fours on either side were Thanos and Corin, the lupines in wolfen form, their fur groomed and preened for the occasion.

As she walked the assembled guests bowed and nodded as their fealty decreed, the queen barely replying to their shows of reverence. The entertainers grovelled, abasing themselves for her pleasure. The seneschal bowed and kissed her toes with reverence, the queen barely acknowledging the act before rising onto her divan and settling into its comfort. Thanos and Corin ascended beside her, settling into feral crouches, their glowing crimson stare panning across the audience. Many eyes were upon them, the shocking appearance of two trained lupines at her heels being an event of no small distinction.

Impressed gasps and subdued mutters of gossip suddenly rolled through the hall, the guests succumbing to the very result the queen had desired.

Kitjana made her way back and ascended into her own seat, her monstrous abominations taking positions about the throne, regarding the lupines with uneasy stares.

The seneschal moved back and returned to Kira, letting her faithful and devoted servant continue where she had left off. But even though the woman seemed to be watching the rest of the hall, Kira saw her studiously keeping track of her neighbours, trying to listen in on what was being said between the two salacious females.

Every suppressed glance Cassandra made to them raised the temperature of Kira’s bitterness until finally she squeezed harder than she should have, attacking a tender muscle to break off the seneschal’s gaze. She knew what the result would be, but she wanted the seneschal with her, not the queen.

‘Ouch!’ Cassandra yelped. ‘What is wrong with you, slave?’

‘I’m sorry, seneschal, I—’ began Kira with worried apology.

‘Sorry doesn’t cover it by far!’ she hissed, grabbing Kira by the hair and dragging her down onto her front, defeating her half-hearted wriggles of resistance. ‘You think you can treat me like that and not be reprimanded?

Well, you’ve just earned yourself more demerits than you can even contemplate, slave!’ she barked, swinging a leg over, dropping her buttocks onto Kira’s shoulders, using her folded legs to squeeze inwards, pressing Kira’s arms to her sides, keeping her trapped beneath her.

She was overwhelmed by the feel of latex legs compressing, controlling her, the smooth soft buttocks crushing her body, keeping her down as the seneschal called forth one of the entertainers.

‘Give me that!’ she snapped, her fury at Kitjana’s disrespect and the queen’s indifference seeping out, turning itself to the chastising of Kira.

Kira closed her eyes, aware now that she was to be the vent through which the seneschal exorcised her bilious temperament. She didn’t mind; it made her feel that she was serving her seneschal, assisting her in alleviating her mood.

The seneschal snatched the cane from the male and cast it up over her head. The bamboo strut howled down and sank into Kira’s rear, imparting searing agony upon her. Kira wailed, struggling under the woman, fighting her entrapment as the seneschal continued her assault with manic verve.

‘You think you can manhandle me?’ she growled, targeting Kira’s thrashing thighs.

‘No seneschal, please!’ she howled, tears running down her face, her hindquarters alive with utter distress. ‘Show mercy! It was an accident, I swear!’

‘I’ll teach you to be more careful, slave!’ ranted the seneschal, slicing into her with all her might, her legs squeezing, crushing Kira’s torso.

‘Please, seneschal,’ she wailed, accepting another trio of vindictive hacks.

‘I elevated you from being a pet and this is how you repay me.’

‘I’m sorry, please, seneschal, I’ll never—!’ Her words ended as they ascended to a squeal with the affliction of more scathing strokes.

‘You think a few licks covers your crime?’ yelled the woman, continuing her revenge with gusto.

Kira hollered beneath her owner, receiving her retribution in full, questioning having performed her plot but not regretting it for an instant.

When the assault stopped Kira was laying slack upon the divan, sobbing softly, her body exhausted. The seneschal removed herself from Kira’s back, stretching her weary arm and setting the cane aside.

‘Thank you, slave, I needed that,’ she whispered into Kira’s ear and kissed her while softly rubbing the welt smothered rear of her property.

‘I only want to serve you, seneschal,’ grizzled Kira.

‘And you did,’ comforted the seneschal, wiping away her slave’s tears. ‘And as always you excelled.’

Thanos looked over to Corin to see his sister glaring at several other members of the assembly, locating regions where her loathing had failed to be diminished by slavery.

She still had old enemies, quarters of power that had offended or crossed her. The old hates died hard, and she was obviously dwelling on them as she studied the crowd.

It had been almost unbelievable to see how quickly Corin had been attuned to the will of the queen. A concentrated regime of torment and erotic teasing, indoctrination tapes, and of course his presence to show her how well the whole system worked had turned a defiant wilderness warrior into an adoring pet of her greatest nemesis.

‘So how has the world been treating my favourite witch?’ asked the queen, regarding Kitjana.

‘A few setbacks of late, but in the end it all worked out,’ the woman replied flippantly.

‘Do tell,’ encouraged the queen, snapping her fingers to call over one of her maids. The woman pulled herself up onto the divan and looked meekly down in anticipation of her orders.

The queen opened her legs and gave a brief indication downward. The maid shuffled forward and lowered her face into position, locating the concealed slit that provided access through the walls of latex. The sounds of lapping and soft moans of delight emerged from the mop of blonde hair between the queen’s legs, and both 186

Corin and Thanos regarded the humbled servant with envy.

‘Of course, but first, shall we see to some entertainment for me as well?’ she quizzed.

‘Anything you wish,’ replied the queen.

‘Well, your male pet seems to be ready for action,’ she said with a voluptuous purr, her eyes scanning Thanos, his arousal by the lesbian act before him plain. ‘Mind if I see what he can do?’

‘By all means,’ answered the queen, and reached forward, unclipping his leash and pointing to the neighbour.

‘Obey her, slave,’ she ordered, and Thanos looked to see the woman beckoning him with a crooked digit.

Swallowing for courage, Thanos made his way over and through the wall of beasts guarding the woman. Moving up onto the divan, he found her already stripping off her briefs, revealing her shaven sex to him.

‘Come here, slave,’ she smiled, a twisted leer creeping around the corners of her lips as she lifted a hand in his direction. A small sparkle of darkness curled in her palm and from its heart spat a line of barbed chain. The new leash snapped claws to the D-ring of his collar and allowed her to reel him in with more substantial control.

She grabbed his rigid length and massaged it in a callous grasp, making Thanos wince, but the roughness also served to continue feeding his arousal.

‘Not bad,’ she murmured as her efforts brought Thanos to full size, and then using her hold as a mooring she steered him into herself leaving nothing to his control.

Thanos moaned as he slid into her, the warm flesh swallowing up his hungry shaft. ‘Mmmm, delightful,’

commented the witch, stretching herself against the soft fur, squirming in a heady haze as Thanos sank into her in full.

Holding himself up by his arms, Thanos commenced his ravishment with dilatory haste, working slowly, savouring the moment, unsure when he would get another chance.

With a chuckle, the sighing woman beneath him placed her fingers to his nipples. Thin tongues of energy curled around her forearms, racing around and to her fingers, forming contorted skeletal clamps, the demonic mannequins snapping serrated teeth to his mamilla.

Dribbling out a grunt of shock Thanos stiffened, the woman drawing back, paying out new wires of barbed black metal from the implements. Then, pulling down the cups of her bra she exposed her breasts and conjured another set of clamps, linking the two of them, making every thrust and pull apply new strength to the sprung implements, increasing their havoc.

‘That’s it slave, nice and easy, I don’t want you finishing prematurely,’ she warned with a grin, draping herself back as her breasts were pulled to points by Thanos’

movements, the two of them succumbing to the throbbing arctic pound of the compression.

The effects were swiftly seeping into the surrounding tissue like a cancer, spreading tendrils forth as they stored the hidden sensation, saving the reservoir until the clamps were removed. Yet both of them thrilled at the minor pain, letting it accentuate the pleasure.

‘Does he meet with your approval?’ asked the queen.

‘Oh yes,’ replied Kitjana with sultry tones.

‘So, about your recent tribulations?’ continued the vampiress, closing her eyes and succumbing to a twitch of response to the labouring tongue between her legs.

‘Well, I don’t know how much you’ve heard, but the trinity decided to pay me a little visit. I say, the trinity, but in fact it was only the other two, because the Swan met an unfortunate end when they assaulted my haven earlier.’

‘Someone said you captured their head – Eire?’ asked the queen, enclosing a hand about the maid’s hair, rotating the girl’s features into her loins.

‘And a fine slave she made too,’ answered Kitjana, pulling at the chains, causing both of their nipples to stretch as Thanos continued to thrust deep into the woman, his fiery eyes fixed upon her with wonderment.

‘I’d broken that virginal little bitch with such disgraceful deeds. But, the little sneaks went and mounted a psychic attack before their physical assault. Little Freyja gave me quite a beating before I managed to pull out.’

She was an amazing sight beneath Thanos, her sculpted form lazily squirming, her sex gripping to his, its heat seeping into his already flushed length. The latex bra folded down, the black folds offering up her succulent breasts, her moist lips agape with her warm panting breath, her stockinged legs locking about him, the thigh boots smooth against his flanks and back. She was delicious as the queen, and Thanos refused to even blink, intending not to miss one fraction of a second of this awesome view.

‘Freyja? That little shaman insect managed to best you?’

‘She had her followers behind her, condensing their power via the Rite of Engagement,’ said Kitjana, reaching down and enclosing Thanos’ testicles, wringing the skin to make them swell. ‘I was lucky to get out in one piece.

Anyway, when they stormed my sanctum they liberated little Eire, and caught a handsome stag I had discovered and was grooming for a mate. They managed to take me too.’

‘Captured, eh?’ smirked the queen. ‘That doesn’t sound like the Kitjana I know.’

‘Hmmm… well, anyway, they tried to convert me. Gave me a crystal of Gaia, used blessed water to soak and cleanse me; force-fed me the accursed stuff. Douches and enemas galore. Enchanted bonds mummifying me, with shaman all around me, stopping me calling on the power of the Wyrm. They thought I’d end up drawing in Gaia’s power, give in and corrupt myself,’ she added, her hand detecting that Thanos was close to finishing.

‘No, slave, not yet,’ she threatened, and her eyes flashed with a shimmer of dismal shadow.

Thanos lurched with a pained yelp as a plexus of slender coils appeared in her hand and, animated by her will, started to ensnare his genitals. The tiny octopus of steel flung its tentacles around his scrotum, wringing it tightly, forcing the testicles out until every wrinkle had been forced from the skin. Another grabbed the root of his penis, squeezing, forming into a stern cock-ring that greatly stifled any hope of easy release. With a chuckle she laid back, her deed having taken even more control over her sex slave.

‘A tricky situation,’ pondered the queen, interlocking her legs, hooking the toes together to squeeze her thighs and compress the girl’s head.

‘At first, but then little pure and innocent Freyja decided to step in. Got me all alone, hanging from the ceiling, tied up nice and tight, spread-eagled and with a whip in her hands,’ stated Kitjana, raising her eyebrows with a licentious smirk.

The queen lifted herself up and looked to the witch with enthusiasm. ‘I am all ears. Do tell me more.’

‘As it transpires, sweet Freyja had been besotted with me since we were children. She had been protecting me from the elders when they thought I was turning to the Wyrm. So she gave me a good scourging as she confessed these things, trying to get me to use that damned Gaia crystal, grab power and escape my torture.’

‘You reviled a whipping; that sounds a little odd,’

wondered the queen, watching as Kitjana dismissed the clamps, causing the arcane constructions to disintegrate and fade from view. The witch and the werewolf stiffened and grunted, teeth clenched, the pleasure of their lovemaking intensified radically by the stabbing riot of duress that afflicted their nipples.

‘It was all that foul purity they used on me. The waters had flushed through me, permeating my body, the bonds had seeped into my skin, and without any influence of the Wyrm I was starting to lose every dark trait I had,’

she stated quickly, pushing Thanos off with an impatient shove.

His member fell free and he watched with burning hunger as she reversed her position, lifting her haunches and indicating for him to continue. Thanos’ breath paused as he looked along the jet thigh boots, her gorgeous legs rolling up into stockings and then to her naked rear.

Grabbing her alluring hips he continued to briefly take in the sight of her bare hindquarters, presented to him, smooth and perfectly formed, an image of seduction.

Without further delay he committed the sight to memory and guided himself back in, the pose allowing him to drive even deeper than before, taxing the limits of her tracts, his passion having had a few seconds to retreat, giving him a greater chance of holding out until she commanded otherwise.

Kitjana arched her head back and growled with animal passion, revelling in the feel of Thanos, kneeling upright behind her, driving so deep that her fingers clawed at the fur of the divan, pulling tufts free.

‘It was hideous, to be rendered moral and pure, to despise and actually not enjoy decadence and pain,’ she panted, biting her lip to weather some virulent stabs.

‘I’d have rescued you if you’d been turned,’ murmured the queen with fond joviality. ‘Locked you away and done terrible things to you until you’d come back to the fold, Kitjana.’

Kitjana laughed, her eyes closed as her cheek lay pressed into the fur, a glistening layer of sweat sparkling across her body. ‘I may have to take you up on that, just for the fun of it,’ she offered lightly, wincing as Thanos dug further into her. In reply she lifted her forearms, locking her fingers together over the back of her head, holding tight for a moment before opening them again.

With a muttered string of croaking half words and strange clicks, her inner forearms opened with lines of jagged script, the arcane language being set in shallow cuts that were delivered by an unseen edge. The blood lifted from the wounds and coagulated, forming into a long undulating serpent, the liquid structure rippling in the light of the chamber. The cuts healed over immediately, restoring unblemished skin as the two creatures she had born slithered around behind Thanos.

‘So how did you escape?’ enquired the queen, observing casually as the blood forms slapped together behind Thanos, the point of their meeting suddenly welling and transforming into a ribbed phallus.

‘I’d managed to swallow my Wyrm crystal before they’d taken me,’ hissed Kitjana, concentrating tokenly on the conversation and more significantly on controlling her newly born familiar. ‘It gave me the tiny seed of darkness I needed to resist their trials.’

The beast darkened instantly, forming the wet blood into dark chitinous carapace. The black shiny rod of a manhood now spouted two long lengths of segmented cable, akin to the body of some obsidian worm. The two coils lifted its phallic body, aiming it at Thanos as he continued to sink himself into the belly of the witch.

Like a cobra it flashed forward, sheathing in his rear, sinking to its base. Thanos roared and spasmed, the acute penetration a shock and a delight at the same time. Before he could fight the intruder it flung its slender arms around him, casting them under Kitjana and forming a tight hoop around each of her breasts, strangling them, making the admirable orbs swell with engorged distress. Kitjana moaned aloud as Thanos’ pace became momentarily more haphazard, his rhythm affected by the sudden sodomy, the phallus rocking back and forth into his rear, every thrust also serving to wring Kitjana’s breasts.

‘They tried everything to get it out, but were unsuccessful. But with little Freyja all torn and bloated with tainted emotion I managed to sneak a little line of influence through the guards and converted the crystal at my throat. With my powers restored I stomped out of there without any trouble.’

‘And what of Freyja?’ asked the queen, lounging back, taking her own breasts in her hands and kneading them within their latex folds, her hindquarters jolting against the delving tongue of the maid.

‘That’s the juiciest part. I embellished myself with a phallus and gave her a good seeing to. Sowed my old Wyrm crystal deep into her belly. It slowly exerted its influence, corrupting her steadily, making her turn to darkness. She started visiting professional doms, collecting illicit pornography, tormenting and teasing herself. Finally her hunger was such that she actually came to my sanctum to petition enslavement,’ laughed 193

Kitjana, her back rolling as she squirmed beneath Thanos.

He felt as though his penis were going to erupt unless he were able to finish soon, the arousal of his partner and her sorcerous craft too much to hold in check.

‘And you accepted?’

‘Naturally,’ said Kitjana, and then smiled with glee, giving a soft titter of amusement before adding to her statement. ‘After a suitably depreciating initiation fee, of course.’

‘You’re wicked,’ chuckled the queen.

‘Personified, my sweet Dana.’

‘So then what happened?’

‘Little miss prim and proper became my slave, and then I had a wonderful plot come to me; the fine male that I mentioned earlier? Well, he was perfect, so I sneaked back into the temple, stole his seed, cast his psyche into the depths of the Wyrm’s realms and returned to impregnate Freyja.’

‘She carries your child?’ solicited the queen, her eyebrows furrowed with consternation.

‘Mine and… and… a…’ started Kitjana, her words becoming lost as she started to succumb to the swell of her orgasm. ‘That’s it, slave, come on, faster, deeper,’ she spat, making Thanos thrust into her, diving from root to tip, dragging himself almost to the point of removal before jamming his full length back into her. He could feel his own climax, locked in his shaft, battling the strangling bonds.

‘Now, slave… now!’ she howled, her mind setting loose all of her creations. The wire crumbled from her breasts, letting a flash of sensation stampede back in.

Simultaneously the wires entombing Thanos’ genitals sprung free and vanished, and like the shattering of a dam his orgasm charged through his penis, seeming to have magnified by being forced to wait. As he roared with rapture, ejaculating into the velvet womb of the witch, the phallus inserted in him ground sharply back in and then fled with a spry jolt, the sudden excavation causing a new influx of sharp feeling. The conspiracy of influences took him even higher, his body shaking with delight as he thrust chaotically into her, capturing his measure of bliss as Kitjana bucked and wailed beneath him.

She sagged, lowering to the soft cushion, letting Thanos remain atop her, his length still buried in her flesh, the two of them panting, their bodies dripping with perspiration.

Thanos could feel her raw membranes gripping to him in spasms, the remnants of their climax still rolling like the echo of a thunderclap through their systems. Nerves flicked and muscles contracted in sudden jolts, the two of them resting for a moment, to gather energy enough to move.

‘The child is the spawn of myself and Jason,’ the witch continued hoarsely, licking her lips.

‘A little close to the prophecy, isn’t it?’ said the queen, the sight of Thanos and Kitjana’s maelstrom coupling exciting her sufficiently to carry her to her own peaks of ecstasy. Her rubber-clad form squirmed against the maid, her limbs sliding against the fur divan as she gasped for breath, just to feel the influx of oxygen as it leapt in and out of her lungs. Snatching fits contorted her, causing her to appear as though she were being subjected to steady electrical impulses. The rhapsody started to subside, and once sufficiently satisfied she locked her boot to the shoulder of her maid and pushed her away, setting her back and then placing her feet on her, using the oral slave as a footrest.

‘Precisely. Now is my time, Dana. This has to be it.

This is my destiny. Those Gaia fools actually helped me orchestrate what I was born to do and which they had striven to prevent.’ Kitjana turned onto her side and slammed a fist to the cushion in endurance as Thanos’ shaft slid from her sensitised interior. She bit her lower lip for a moment, her eyes scrunched up, and then the tightness in her features drained away, leaving her with a relaxed, serene expression.

‘You’re sure?’ asked the queen.

‘This child could start the prophecy, bring the apocalypse. All the stars are in precise alignment, the astral dagger of twin comets have breached the tropic of Hades, it’s almost time. I’ve got the ritual set up, the stone, the sacrifice, every loathsome incantation I can think off already cast. All I need is the right time,’ she stated, laying on her back, looking at the ceiling as she recovered her breath, her fingertips idly wandering her body.

‘I wish you luck,’ whispered the queen, lacing her hands across her stomach, her crossed feet upon the back of the girl who had serviced her. ‘Everyone has been gossiping of prophecy and a time of upheaval. I had no idea my little Kitjana was going to be the starting pistol for our finest hour.’

‘Oh, it’s going to be a grand time, Dana,’ assured Kitjana, rising with a strain of effort, running a hand along Thanos as he lay beside her, his body exhausted.

‘So, I guess congratulations are in order, seeing as you are going to be a mother. Any ideas on a name?’ laughed the queen, her witch companion mimicking the humour before turning to other matters.

‘Seriously though, I’m in the mood to party. What’s the entertainment going to be?’

‘Seneschal, is the main show ready?’ asked the queen, glancing over to where Cassandra was relaxing, Kira licking across her dress as she watched a display of rope bondage occurring before her. Upon hearing her title, her head flashed around to report to her owner.

‘Anytime you wish to begin, your majesty.’

The queen turned back to Kitjana and perked her shaped eyebrows, the two women exchanging a hungry look. ‘Shall we get to the hunt, then?’ she offered.

‘A hunt? How exciting! What is the quarry?’ asked Kitjana.

The queen looked to Corin and then to Thanos, before meeting Kitjana’s eyes as they lit up with excitement.

‘Seriously?’ she questioned, rubbing her hands together as though tempted with a surprise gift she was forbidden to unwrap.

‘If you catch one, I might even let you keep them,’ the queen stated absently.

‘That, my dear Dana, is a challenge I shall readily accept. To the iniquitous go the spoils,’ she decreed, failing to see the horrified look on the faces of Corin and Thanos as they realised that they might well be separated from the ownership of their divine ruler.

In addition to the dismay of the lupines, the seneschal looked aside and hid her pursed grin, unable to hide her ebullient mood at possibly losing some of her most staunch rivals for the queen’s attention.

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