The Goddess's Fate - Part 3

Yesterday was crazy, so no post. Sorry! Here's the end of chapter 1 for The Goddess's Fate. Lots more perverted stuff to come now that the setup is almost done! Check out the series page for parts 1 and 2.


In this post: BDSM, straight sex

When Athyra opened her eyes again, she realized that she had fallen asleep. Her whole body still buzzed and vibrated with the expert attention given it by Fame's minions. At the thought of them she realized the two women were still at her side, their hands draped casually over her midsection and their arms pillowing her head. They were both asleep, an unguarded sleep that made their beautiful faces seem even more angelic and perfect. She noticed that they had taken off their corsets, though she couldn't remember when. Slowly she remembered why she had come here in the first place and realized she would need to speak to Fame before leaving to find out what the next step was.

The two girls woke up as she dislodged herself from between them and scampered to put her robe back on. When she looked back she saw them watching her, looking very relaxed and satisfied with themselves. Their look said, yeah, we know you loved every second of that, little-miss-goddess, and we could do it all again in a heart beat. Athyra tried not to be offended, or tempted for that matter. She felt she should say something but nothing came to mind. She left before the whole ordeal could start getting awkward.

It took her some time to find her way back to the main hall and finally to Fame's quarters. She had been distracted by their conversation. Luckily Fame was back on the edge of the bed where she had first met him. The olive skinned elf was back as well, on her knees with her hands still tied behind her back. Dahlia was also there, standing over the elf and holding a wine glass to the girl's lips. As Athyra got closer she could see what she took to be wine was actually a glass full of cum. Horrified, she stood there watching as Dahlia tipped the glass back, forcing the girl to drink. The elf managed to gulp down three quarters of it before she finally sputtered and spat, coughing and gagging. Fame watched with a serious expression while Dahlia laid into the girl, ferociously slapping her across the face left and right. The elf toppled over, huge gobs of thick cum gushing out of her mouth with each cough. Dahlia stepped on her right breast with her stiletto boot. The girl couldn't manage a scream.

“You will learn to be a good whore,” Dahlia's voice was bone-chillingly calm while still managing to sound utterly threatening. “So help me, you will learn.”

“Yes mistress,” the elf moaned in a tiny voice. Dahlia hauled the girl back to her knees with a handful of hair. She produced another glass of cum and put it to the girl's lips. Athyra was still frozen by mute terror and fascination. This time the elf girl managed to down the whole thing with five big gulps. She gasped for air and looked momentarily sick, groaning painfully and desperately, but she kept it all down. Only then did Fame notice Athyra standing there in mute horror.

“Ah! Athyra my love, welcome back,” he said. “Did Eva and Alleya treat you well?”

Dahlia's head snapped around to look straight at Athyra when Fame spoke her name, and the two of them locked eyes. The intensity of the woman's stare was new to Athyra who found it somewhat threatening but also rather annoying. The elf girl stared at the floor and breathed heavily.

“I suppose. We had a nice chat.” She said, finally tearing her eyes away from Dahlia's. Fame laughed heartily. More than a few of the girls around the pool picked up the laughter in hollow tones. The effect in the cavernous room was very eerie.

“I'm sure you did, my sweet. Have you come to finish our business?”

Athyra nodded, glad that Fame wasn't headed down some verbose tangent again.

“Very good, very good. Dahlia, my love, attend to me a moment.”

Dahlia's gaze finally left Athyra, who discovered she had been holding her breath. The look she gave Fame was one of utter love and devotion. A warm smile spread across her face, an expression that looked almost alien on her.

“It's come to my attention that our dearest friend Athyra has fallen into a similar situation that I was in about, oh, twenty centuries back. Do you remember that, my sweet?”

Dahlia nodded.

“It is my sincerest hope that my dear friend Athyra manages to avoid her fate in the same way that I did. You understand?”

Dahlia's head turned, her smile gone. She fixed Athyra in another gaze, full of contempt.

“This one?” She asked. Her voice was deep and smooth as silk, shockingly cold but intriguing.

“Yes, she's the one my love.” Athyra nodded to her, hoping she would look away again. She did not.

“Yesssss,” Dahlia drew out the sibilant in an uncannily serpentine way, “Yes, I see. It would not do at all. I hope that all goes well for her.”

Fame smiled at Athyra. She could easily interpret that the matter was done now.

“Now Dahlia my sweet, come here and finish the job that bitch couldn't even start.”

Dahlia laughed a cruel, twisted laugh. With a kick she sent the elf sprawling head first into the pool and turned to jump on top of Fame, who immediately began ripping her clothes off. Athyra watched in alarm as the elf sank, her hands still tied behind her back. Before she knew what she was doing, she was kneeling by the water's edge, groping in the pool to grab her. She caught a handful hair and hauled it up, searching for the girl's arm. After much struggling and a lot of splashing she hauled the girl out. The elf gasped for air and coughed up mouthfuls of water.

“How could you do that,” Athyra demanded furiously, turning back to Fame. Dahlia was already on top of him, naked, the enormous girth of the god somehow shoved into her pussy. The two of them looked innocently at Athyra.

“Athyra my love, none of them can die here,” Fame explained patiently. Athyra knew that, but the cruelty of it...she couldn't express it. All she wanted to do was scream at him in blind rage. A few moments of impotent anger was all she could take. She finally summoned up a gateway back to her own realm, and slumped down in the white, icy coolness of her own halls. She felt like she had forgotten something back in Fame's realm, but she didn't know what it could be.  

Lilly And The Raven - Part 4

Part 4 kicks off chapter 3 of part 1. Now things start getting interesting~ New work coming soon as I work out a commission.


In this post: Amazoness, elves, prostitution, futa-on-girl

Chapter 3

My Whores

I set off for the city with my pockets stuffed with gold that very night. I had the presence of mind not to go out decked with jewelery and fine fabrics as I would have at any other time. These things would show my status just as sure as wearing the livery of my husband's house. The only women on the streets of Al Zitti after sundown were prostitutes, so I would have to look like one in order to avoid being discovered. Accordingly, I put on the skimpiest outfit in my wardrobe. It was so offensive to me when I was presented with it that I refused to ever wear it, but now I slipped it on with mounting excitement. It was a garb of pure leather lined on the inside with silk, metal rods carefully stitched inside the hide gave it a permanent shape. Like a corset it squeezed my flesh into submission, forming my body into some impossible shape. I pulled it down a little further to ensure that the small bulge between my legs would go unnoticed, but this meant my breasts were all but fully exposed. The tight, constricting fit was uncomfortable, the highest of high heels that I owned even more so, but I did it all to look the part, or so I told myself. I slipped out of the house and hoped that no one would stop me and try to acquire my 'services'.

I headed straight out of the imperial district, into Al Zitti itself, to the open air bazaars that were now closed up as the moon slowly crept across the sky. At first I saw no one but the far off figures of watchmen patrolling. I walked into seedier, more dilapidated parts of town, my feet aching and the rub of the too-tight dress maddeningly sensual. I could almost see myself walking down the empty street, the outline of my ass working beneath the leather, visible as if I wore nothing at all. The flesh of my breasts jiggling like gelatin, the spill off my light blond hair over my face like a mask. Those I passed only glimpsed at me, and I wondered what they thought of the elegant looking Elf woman in such depraved attire. Finally, I came along the intersection of the bazaar street with the main travel artery of the city, and I saw them at last.

My heart pounded as I looked at them. They wandered the streets in every direction, dainty little female forms squeezed into as little clothing as possible, faces painted elaborately, some of them looking horrifying, and others absolutely stunning. It was a veritable buffet of flesh, something to satisfy anyone in the world in this city where anything desire could conjure could be bought and sold. The women all ranged in age from those who had just barely sprouted breasts to gray haired crones, ugly to beautiful, fat to thin, dark skinned or light skinned. Human, cat-woman, Elf, all intermingled in small groups along the street or stood solitary beneath a lamp post, scanning the area for available men. Even as I watched, I saw them negotiate with their clientèle, gesturing furiously or pulling close to him as his arm slithered around her waist and they walked off together in random directions. Despite all the people here, it was very quiet. The sounds of the night were louder than the mutterings of living beings. Occasionally a crack of laughter would burst through the silence, or a muffled cry, but mostly those in groups talked in low voices to each other, and those alone stared impassively at those around them. I was ignored as I walked along the street, just another body in the buffet to them. I looked at each face, appraised each nearly naked body.

Finally I found a blond haired Human girl who couldn't have been older than sixteen standing by herself in the shadows. She wore a white sun dress that was so unlike the tight leathers and see-through fabrics of all the others that I thought she might not be a prostitute. It hung loose around her, and she looked like a carefree country girl except for the devious white high heels she wore, so steep she stood on her tip toes. These shoes seemed to be the mark of a prostitute, for they all wore something similar. But she looked so young, so innocent and frail in spite of it all. When the evening summer wind blew I could see the outline of her body as the thin dress pressed against her, and it was exquisite. I had made my choice, and I fought to keep my member from swelling up and escaping its prison to thrust itself immediately at this girl and dominate her the way it had dominated the other one, the black haired one, in my dream. I licked my lips and approached her, my Elf stature in high heels towering over her so that her eyes stared into my breasts.

She looked up at me, wide-eyed, but scowled.

“I told you I don't want a pimp, I'm just doing this for a little while.” She spat at me with such an acrid tone that was so out of place with her angelic face that I was taken aback and couldn't respond for a moment.

“No,” I stammered finally, “You misunderstand. I have no wish to own you, except to bring you to my bed.” I realized suddenly that I was talking like a noblewoman, that no one on the street, certainly no one who had to sell herself, would talk like this. But the girl didn't seem to notice, or care.

“Oh,” Her face changed now, became neutral and impassive. “You want me to entertain your husband, do you? So many do. It's strange.”

I shook my head, “No, no. I merely want you for myself.” My heart was pounding as I spoke the words and heard the truth of them ringing in my ears. Speaking so candidly was not something I had known in my life of careful deceit and scripted obedience. The girl stared at me. I suddenly got the impression that she hadn't been a prostitute very long, didn't know how to handle this situation. But she nodded dumbly.

“All right.” She said, but I could see in her eyes that she added, but I've never been with a woman before. I grinned inwardly to think that soon she wouldn't find it all that unfamiliar.

I left with her guiding us to a “private place”. I slipped my arm around her waist and held her against me as we walked as I had seen the men do, taking an even greater excitement in feeling her against me, knowing that for the time being this body belonged to me and I could do anything to it that I wished.

We stepped into a tiny house that was little more than a kitchen with a bed in the corner, and I could tell it was hers, for the fragrance of her skin and her hair that I found so intoxicating was in this place. She lit a few candles and turned, her mouth open to explain her prices and her rules to me, but I was holding out a fist full of gold coins to her. She stared at them dumbly, utterly shocked to see so much money in one place. I could discern this, but it made no sense to me. This much money had been a paltry sum for my whole life, I had found myself wishing I had brought more as I perused the streets, taking in the buffet of breasts and lips and thighs. She took it, whatever rules she was about to recite to me in a cold, reprimanding tone erased from her mouth. For this much money, she would do anything at all. I felt a flash of the noblewoman's contempt for such debauchery. That she would degrade herself so much for a petty handful of coins! Rather than filling me with disgust as it would have any time before drinking that strange elixir, now it filled me with lust, and I could scarcely contain it. Was this how men felt about this depraved exchange of cash?

I walked over to the bed and she followed after stashing the gold away somewhere. She stood before me, visibly unsure of what to do next. I was long past my cultured subservience to indecision now; I positively burned to make her mine. I reached out, bending down slightly to grab hold of her flimsy little dress and pull it up over her head. She was naked underneath it, and the audacity of that sent another wave of desire through me. With my superior size and strength I picked her up, set her on the bed, a trembling doll made of flesh for me to play with. I got on my knees in front of the bed, and now I could see her delicate flesh up close for the first time. Her skin was soft, flecked with tiny imperfections and nearly invisible little hairs that made it even more alluring, totally unlike the flawless alabaster of the other one, the dark haired one. There was a birthmark on her right breast, her abdomen was smooth but not muscular like mine or the other one's. Her thighs were delicate but firm, and I could have stared for hours at the dainty beauty of her little pink pussy glowing in the candle light. I ran my hands all over her body, the constricting leather wrapped around my body making it hard to breathe as I needed to breathe faster to keep pace with my racing heart. My movements felt sluggish, my head was light, I felt drugged, but I still moved over her, cupping her arched back with my hand, closing my mouth around one small, perfect little breast. I drank in the feel of her, her scent, her voice, like a bottle of wine against my lips, growing rapidly intoxicated by her heady aroma and the salty taste of her nubile flesh, the strange taste of her mouth against mine.

At last I could stand the leather and metal rods no longer, I stood and pulled the thing off of me impatiently and as an after thought I pulled off my undergarments as well. I heard her gasp as I she saw the raging python slip out from between my legs, roaring for pleasure, demanding her utter submission. I brushed aside her questions, ignoring them. She resisted me for a brief moment, then yielded again as I pushed her further onto the bed and climbed on top of her. So what? It was just another penis, and the pay was astronomically higher than what she usually got for this same service.

She came after me now, her small hands groping at my breasts, which seemed even larger now though I didn't stop to examine them. She tweaked my nipples and ran her hands over my back as we kissed and pressed my member against me with her body where it lay sandwiched between us. Our blond hair tangled together and we rolled on the bed once, where she squirmed on top of me for a moment before we rolled again and I crushed her to the mattress with my superior size. I thought incessantly of that pretty pink pussy I had looked at, had run my fingers over. I probed it again now and found it wet and sticky as the fluid that came from my own member. I shifted now, drew myself up. She sensed this at once and shifted as well, spreading her legs open as much as she could in the small space. I gripped my member and probed between her legs, seeking some purchase there, now panting like an animal in heat. It seemed like forever that I prodded and caressed, but soon enough I felt something give and I pushed against it, guiding my thick member into that tiny orifice until at last I felt it yield to me completely, felt my member enveloped in a wet, burning hot, incredibly tight mass of flesh. A sound of pure delight escaped me against my will, and I pushed harder, deeper until I was in as far as I could go. I drew myself down against my squirming prize, my petite blond beauty who seemed so innocent. I would rend the innocence from her flesh!

I pressed her against me, my strength finding no task in of controlling her body completely. Slowly I backed out of her squeezing orifice, then thrust back in, feeling the ecstasy of that first push all over again. A low cry escaped the dainty thing in my arms, but I thrust again, feeling the blast of pleasure all the way at the top of my skull so that my eyes rolled into the back of my head and my mouth hung open dumbly. I thrust over and over, mechanically, with zealous mania, memorizing the feel of her delicate insides as they yielded to my power. I hated her and I loved her, I wanted to shower her with kisses and low murmurs of affection as I gently pumped pleasure through both of our bodies, and I wanted to hold her face against the bed and slam against her hips so hard and fast her spine would snap like a twig. But I kept holding her against me, working my hips in that hypnotic fashion, my thoughts nothing but currents of vague, primal feeling that surged and retreated in time with each thrust. I could see our shadows against the wall. I now sat back on my legs, holding her up with my hands against her arched back as she went limp with pleasure or submission I don't know. I saw my arms lift her body like a doll, saw the powerful shaft of my member in shadow, connected to her, then watched it disappear inside of her as I pulled her back into me. My thighs looked like the trunks of great, ancient trees compared to her tiny sticks. My breasts were mountains heaving upwards from the earth compared to her tiny rolling hills. My arms holding her up were things of iron, and her shadow was enveloped in mine, indistinct, the post script scrawled at the end of a massive treatise on raw feminine power.

Her brown eyes watched me beneath nearly closed lids, her face was serene, her body was responding to my assault with hard nipples, slick pussy, deep moans. I could feel my mind slipping into that dreamlike state that came before climax, that utter stillness in which all lust and all thought seemed to grow still and then culminate in a great rushing river of joy and delight, where all things were possible and nothing mattered. I felt that river rush through me, felt my throbbing cock swell and grow even more sensitive, feeling every tiny cell of her pussy as I drove against it faster than ever. I felt that river rush from me, my body tense, eyes flung wide open, mouth agape, guttural sounds being pushed out of it by the contractions deep within me. I felt my cum rush through my shaft and into her limp, flexing body, harder than I had ever cum before. I felt it leaving me like a gunshot, pouring into her in great, gushing streams. She cried out at the heat of it, the volume of it. I couldn't move. I was utterly stunned, completely lost in the wilderness of my empty mind, everything that had been there washed away in that torrent of ecstasy and now coursed through her body. I lowered myself on top of her again, my legs aching from the strange position I had held her in. Slowly, very slowly I returned to myself, looked down at her serene face, finding her eyes mercifully closed as I stared at her. I realized she had gained some sort of release as well, and basked in the afterglow of it as I now did. I shifted to pull my member out of her, finding it impossibly sensitive now, gasping at the sensation so close to pain but so kin to pleasure that I continued pulling it out, letting out another sound of pleasure and delight as it pulled free of her with a little sucking sound. Immediately a small stream of cum came pouring out of her. I had definitely spent my passion! I caught my breath there, straddled on all fours over her. 

Without a word I got up, still pulsating with that light and that feeling of being inside of her, of pouring myself into her. I squeezed back into my hooker's disguise and found that I didn't mind the exposure so much. As I walked home I experimented walking as the prostitutes did, one foot in front of the other, swaying my hips hypnotically, and I felt truly alive.

As I laid in bed that night, trying to will myself to sleep, my body was still a riot of remembered pleasure. I felt her against me, felt the incessant grip of her pussy against my member as if I had only pulled out seconds earlier. My erection throbbed again already, feeling bigger and more powerful than ever, but eventually I fell asleep purely out of exhaustion.

The Goddess's Fate - Part 2

Part 2 of chapter 1 of the story I began posting yesterday. Tomorrow's posting is up in the air, be sure to check in. Check out the series page or scroll down to read part 1.


In this post: Cumshot, lesbian three-way

Suddenly Fame closed his eyes and appeared relaxed. Athyra was momentarily confused and alarmed, until she suddenly heard the girls at his feet moaning. She looked down and saw great torrents of thick white cum gushing from the God's swollen member, his whole lower body seeming to contract to push all of it out with such force and volume. The faces of the women were already covered, and the thick substance sloughed off onto their breasts and thighs in torrents. Athyra looked away and folded her arms, a little bile rising in her throat. When she looked back, the girls had already cleared the cum from their eyes, but left the rest of it untouched. They sat on either of Fame's huge thighs, looking like they had fallen in a puddle of white mud.

“I would have figured all your little play things would be naked,” Athyra said arrogantly, trying to regain control of her usual persona.

“Oh,” said Fame, “I can see how you would get that impression.” He sounded like a mortal having a mundane conversation about the weather as he explained. “Not everyone is equal here in Fame's realm. There's a lot of demand for my attention, but I bore easily, so the women are ranked by beauty, libido, and skill. The better your rank, the more clothes you are allowed. Worthless slaves and new arrivals are kept naked. Bikinis like these,” he groped a breast each on the girls in his lap, “are next, going on up to mini-skirts, harnesses, so on. Girls with special skills get shoes, the height of the heel denotes what skill it is. Two inches--”

“Enough,” Athyra said, noticing with a bit of panic that both the girls on his lap wore high heels, “I was trying to be a bitch, I don't want to hear about your sick little games.”

Fame looked almost crestfallen at her outburst, and she felt a pang of guilt, which she immediately silenced. He's getting to me, she thought, the power of this place gets to anyone after a while, he's trying to stall me. Nonetheless, she tried to salvage the conversation, knowing full well that he held the key to her dilemma.

“I guess that Dahlia women is quite high ranked.”

Fame smiled again, a wicked smile. “She's my right hand,” he said.

“Anyway,” Athyra attempted to steer the conversation, “You were saying you found a way around your Fate.”

Fame stood, dislodging his lap-ornaments. “Perhaps you should tell me everything,” he said kindly, and went for the door. Athyra glanced at the girls, who were now on the bed licking each other clean, and quickly followed Fame.

As they wandered through some of the more empty corridors, she told him everything. The blond girl whom she had killed, and now the new one, the buxom brunette with rippling muscles wearing her own gown ten years from now. The mirror had said it was Fate.

“Ten years,” Fame said gravely, “Not much time at all.”

“Do you think I can get around this?” She sounded desperate and hated herself for it.

“What you describe is very similar to what happened to me. A powerful warrior was to be vying for my place according to the mirror. He was to use various choice women to lure me out with the ritual that I'm sure you know about, and do battle with me. Eventually I would have been defeated.”

Athyra felt a spark of hope. The situations were very similar. “What did you do?” She asked.

“I sent Dahlia after him,” he grinned. Athyra was astonished.

“That's direct intervention. You could have lost your powers from that alone.”

“It was a gamble, I admit. I had to be very careful. I simply told Dahlia about the prophecy, and she took it upon herself to take care of him. Of course I knew that she would, but by not giving an order I was able to escape the full brunt of Fate's fury. My powers weakened considerably for a time, yes, and I lost many good slaves, but I made it through. I even believe I could have intervened myself and still have escaped with my powers. I am, after all, very powerful. And you are even more powerful than me, I hate to admit. I'm sure you could do the same. Arrogance is much more powerful than lust. A king can't be conquered by a whore if he believes himself above her.”

Athyra cringed a bit, despite agreeing fully that she was far more powerful. She did not like being called the Goddess of Arrogance. She preferred Confidence. Nonetheless, the story of his success was extremely good news to her, but there was one bad detail.

“What you say sounds perfect,” she admitted, “but I have no minions or followers to utilize the way you say. Confidence may be more powerful than lust, but it by design it does not inspire devotion to powers greater than oneself.”

Fame smiled warmly at her. Athyra felt a chill run through her gut.

“If you'd like to strike a deal,” he purred, “I could have Dahlia do all the work for you.”

Athyra clenched her teeth. She was sure she could handle this on her own, she just didn't know how she could get it done in less than ten years. Inexplicably, she felt that what he was offering was the only solution. Some quiet voice in the back of her head was trying to warn her about something, but she couldn't quite hear it.

“What kind of deal?” she heard herself ask. Fame's smile widened.

“Dahlia will find this girl and make contact with her. She will find out how best to attack this girl's psyche. For this we may need you to utilize some of your own powers, but we will find a way to make sure it keeps you on the right side of Fate. Dahlia will convince this girl to make a pact with me, and once she is mine it will be impossible for her to threaten you.”

The two of them turned into a doorway on the left side of a nondescript corridor.

“You believe this will work?”

Fame nodded. “Of course. You cannot alter your own destiny, but mortals can be lead away from their own if the forces exerted are strong enough. If her fate is altered, the Fate awaiting you cannot be fulfilled, and it will go away. It worked for me.” He grinned and motioned to the far side of the room.

A man stood naked and blindfolded, his hands tied above his head with an iron chain. His whole body was covered in lashes, bruises, and red marks from whips and all other manner of devices. Two tall women stood hear him, lashing him with switches made of leather. They both wore tight leather corsets and garter belts holding up black stockings. They swayed from foot to foot on very tall high heeled boots and seemed to be greatly enjoying this brutal torture session. Athyra felt a bit sick and light headed again, worse than the last time.

“Meet the man who was to take my place, my darling Athyra.” Fame motioned to the human whipping post. “Dahlia did well bringing him to my side, and once I had him I decided he could do without the pleasures of my realm.”

The two fems stopped whipping and turned to face the two Gods, fingering their whips and eying Athyra.

“So what do you want in return for all this?” She asked reluctantly, folding her arms over her breasts after seeing the looks she was being given. Fame seemed not to hear her and walked over to his girls.

“Eva,” he kissed the first on the lips, “Alleya,” he kissed the other. The two of them watched him intently, seeming to read his expression. He turned back to Athyra with an unreadable smile.

“Just spend an hour with my two lovelies here,” he said smoothly, “That's all I ask. Just do whatever they want. They won't bite unless you want them to.”

Athyra stared at him. She had no idea what to make of such a deal. An hour with two women in exchange for her very Godhood and possibly her life. Coming here she had dreaded the possibility of needing to satisfy Fame, but now he was going to quietly step out and leave her in the hands of two apparently mid-level minions. The deal seemed too good to be true, but she inexplicably felt like she should just go ahead and do it. Get it over with, then get out. It might not even be that bad. She glanced at the two girls then back at Fame, hesitating.

“Well,” she said haltingly, “I guess that's a good deal.”

Fame's face burst into a huge smile and he clapped his hands together.

“Wonderful! Let us formalize our partnership in this matter.” He held out his hand. Among Gods, a handshake made a deal permanent. It was almost impossible to back out if the other party did not want to release you from the terms. She tried to go over the deal in her head again, looking for loopholes, but it all felt so fuzzy. Better to just get it under way. She shook his huge hand, then he turned on his heel and left the room without another word.

Athyra suddenly felt extremely self-conscious alone in the room with the two women in corsets and stockings. The whipping-boy had disappeared to somewhere when she wasn't looking. She gathered up her confidence and looked directly at them.

Eva was a traditionally pretty girl in her early twenties with light blond hair in pigtails. Her lips were thin, but her face was smooth and elegant looking. Her corset squeezed a modest bosom and looked so tight Athyra wasn't sure how she was able to breathe. Her real asset was a glorious round and plump ass set on wide hips that even she had to admit was extremely attractive. She wore a small g-string. Athyra wondered what “rank” that made her.

Alleya was her opposite. She was tall with dark hair falling just below her shoulders and stunningly exotic features. Her lips were huge and pouty, her eyes wide and bright as lamp lights. She sported a huge bosom that threatened to squeeze out of her corset at the slightest movement. What her ass lacked in girth and jiggle she made up for in tightness and perfect shape. Her thighs looked strong as tree trunks. Athyra was intimidated despite possessing the ability to annihilate the both of them with a mere thought. That power had limits now, and the deal with Fame was one of them.

Looking at the two of them, she felt greatly overdressed standing there in her flowing robe. It was belted around her waist and cut in a way that accentuated her feminine curves, but the last few hours among such scantily clad but perfect specimens of womankind made her feel old and prudish. She rubbed her left elbow, totally at a loss for what to do. She briefly entertained the idea of making the move to the bed behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

Finally the two of them approached her, one on each side. Without a word Alleya stepped in and planted her huge lips on Athyra's mouth. Athyra pulled away, surprised, but Alleya simply kissed her again. Athyra was forced to remember the deal and allowed it to go on unchallenged. She experimented with kissing back a little bit and found it was rather enjoyable. The girl's lips were unbelievably soft, their ample thickness making them like two warm, fleshy pillows against her mouth. She felt Eva's hands snake over the small of her back and down her left arm. She barely noticed as the two girls' deft hands undid the belt on her gown and the clasps on her shoulders. She felt the cool air of the marble room against her naked flesh before she realized she was now only wearing a gold necklace, a pair of cotton panties, and her silk slippers. Alarmed, she pulled away and tried to stall them. They gently but firmly pushed her over to the bed until the mattress butted against the back of her knees and she fell into a sitting position on the edge.

“S-so, ah,” she stammered, searching wildly for anything to distract them, “You two have those high heels I see, what skill do you have?” She prayed this would buy her some time. Alleya cupped Athyra's face in her hands as she crawled on to the bed, forcing her on her back. Athyra closed her eyes as the dark haired beauty kissed her mouth again, then her cheek, then her ear. She could feel Eva climbing onto the bed beside her. Suddenly Alleya's soft, deep, seductive voice was whispering in her ear.

“Pussy-eating,” she answered finally. Athyra felt a surge of panic before she remembered that the term was slang and she wasn't in any danger. The two of them together was too much for her to handle. Alleya distracted her with kisses from her big, wet lips and the soft caressing of her hands while Eva was going to work on the more objectionable areas. Athyra was slowly being pulled deep into the large bed, away from the edge. She felt hands searching all over her, not sure which sensation she owed to which girl. Without realizing it she was allowing her legs to be pulled apart, her breasts groped and massaged. The two girls worked every inch of her body, kissing, rubbing, sucking, and licking parts of her she never knew could feel so tantalizing. She had no idea her panties had been removed until she finally felt their soft hands gently caressing the lips of her pussy. She wanted to look at what they were doing, but Alleya kept her too busy. Now she could feel Eva sucking on her left nipple, even nibbling it, while Alleya's tongue explored her mouth and Athyra explored hers in turn. She guessed that each girl had a hand in her crotch, expertly teasing out all her most sensitive areas and exploiting them mercilessly. When she felt fingers probing into her vagina she could not find the energy to even consider objecting. Her whole being was focused on the pleasure she was getting and the lust to return the favor to these two vixens rising in her chest.

When the first wet finger slid softly over her clit, her whole body went tense as the electric shock of pleasure shot through her. She heard herself cry out involuntarily, breaking Alleya's hold on her mouth. She opened her eyes to see Alleya's gorgeous face looking down at her coolly before disappearing downwards. Athyra tried to wait to feel it, but she finally had to look. She could see Eva's blond head splayed over her chest as she sucked on her right nipple now, and could trace her milky white arm to the hand fingering the inside of her pussy. As she watched Alleya took up a position straddling both of her legs and lowered herself between them, her ass sticking high up in the air. Athyra waited what seemed an agonized eternity when Eva's hand disengaged. She nearly disintegrated when she felt those big, wet lips brush against her soaking wet pussy, and she moaned again. There was no denying that Alleya was an expert. Each kiss felt like a lifetime of ecstasy, and when the tongue finally came out she discovered new worlds of pleasure. Before long Alleya's firm, deft tongue was penetrating her, and Eva worked her way down to suck and flick Athyra's clit. Athyra was screaming with pleasure, incapable of comprehending how anything could ever feel so good. She felt overwhelmed, unable to think, like she was in the grips of a fever. When her first orgasm came, she was forced to wonder whether any other encounter she had in her long existence had actually resulted in an orgasm, or if she just thought it was. Nothing like those other times could ever compare to this.

For the full hour the two women worked tirelessly on her, until Athyra was delirious with exhaustion. She lost count of how many times she came, and when it was over she was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Alleya and Eva laid down next to her, and she closed her eyes to try to stop the world spinning.

The Goddess's Fate - Part 1

Here's part 1 of a current work in progress, The Goddess's Fate. It follows the trials of Athyra, Goddess of Confidence (or arrogance, depending on who you ask), who learns through her mystical sources that the powers of Fate have deemed she will be defeated by a mortal woman. Try as she might, each time she eliminates a threat, a new one pops up, and she is forced to seek help from the seedier side of Godhood. The story also follows Andra, the girl chosen by Fate to unseat Athyra, and what happens in her life when the Gods start interfering. 


The story will cover many fetishes over its course, the main themes being: Corruption, lesbian sex, transformation, monster-girls, torture, rape, harems, femdom, BDSM, mind control/hypnotism, among many others, whatever strikes me as being a good fit when I write. 


This post contains: Femdom, slavery, oral

Chapter 1
Fate

The Goddess Athyra walked breezily into her chambers, hall upon hall of white marble decorated with silk and gold. The girl was dead and there would be no repercussions. Poor dear got caught up in a freak land slide. The Goddess smirked, praising her own cleverness. The Gods frequently sidestepped the non-intervention laws with little loopholes like natural disasters, but she would have to keep a low profile for now. It was fine, though, because in one fell swoop she had prevented the prophesy from ever coming to fruition.

She glided down the endless hallway to her Seeing room, casually tossing her wavy brown hair. Once the deed was done she came straight back to her own realm. Now all she wanted to do was look in the Mirror and see her continued future as the prosperous and powerful patron god of confidence.

The grand wooden doors opened themselves as she approached, opening up a wide room filled with a multitude of strange and obviously mystical objects and artifacts. She maneuvered effortlessly through the maze of tables, statues, shelves, and mounds of unidentifiable things until at last she stood before an ornate full body mirror. She shuddered to remember all the anxiety she had felt the last time she asked the mirror to reveal threats to her power and the figure of a buxom girl with blonde hair standing tall and erect in a suit of golden armor holding the Goddess' own severed head. That problem was taken care of, she reminded herself. She hated having to rely on this artifact to make any decisions. She was confident she could solve any problem herself, but she knew that she had to use every advantage she could get in order to fend off the encroachments of other Gods and mortal fools.

The reflection in the mirror began to cloud over. Athyra smirked to herself again and decided to ask the question again, just to watch as the fog remained unchanged.

“Mirror, show me anyone who threatens my rule.” she said, and waited. She did feel a small anxiety deep in her gut as she did so, but as the moments passed and nothing happened, she grew more and more confident. She visibly swelled with an arrogant pride and self-satisfaction that made her face appear at once more beautiful and more terrible. Quickly as it came, the expression deflated. The mirror began to shimmer, the fogs began to resolve themselves into a picture. First it was only a blur of green, then it resolved into the vague shapes of trees. Athyra's fists and jaw clenched as the picture became clear. It was a jungle, and stalking about in the bushes was a young girl with a bow and arrow. She was no older than 15, but her body was well developed. She was already rather buxom, and had barely a slip of fat on her. Her muscles were lean and hard, and even through a haze of rage Athyra had to admit that she was stunningly attractive-- one of the best qualities of a natural born leader.

“Show me her future,” she barked at the mirror.

The jungle scene turned to sand and fell into the void of the mirror. More quickly the fog resolved and showed the same girl, now about ten years older. She wore the same semi-opaque thin silk robe that Athyra herself wore at that very moment, and too much make-up. The goddess was floored. A mortal, taking the place of a God? Such a thing had not happened in over a billion years.

“How will she defeat me?” she asked. The image of the girl disappeared, and a phrase appeared in the fog of the mirror, 'she will not'. Athyra growled in frustration. She was hopelessly confused.

“Is this the work of Fate?” she asked, dreading the answer. The word appeared in the mirror, 'Yes.' Athyra cursed. Fate was the only thing that had power over the Gods. It was not easy to alter, not easy at all. If this were the work of fate she could kill all the mortals she wanted, but another usurper would always take their place. She paced away from the mirror, holding her chin, thinking as hard as she could. “How can I stop this?” she mumbled to herself. Her feet lead her through the maze of objects by themselves. Behind her the mirror shimmered again, but she did not see the phrase that appeared: 'Do nothing.' When the door closed on the artifact room, the mirror showed only the reflection of a nearby statue.

***

Athyra knew that only one god, Fame, the god of lust, had ever escaped the machinations of Fate. She secretly loathed Fame, finding his hedonistic excesses to be far too overbearing. She could always feel him using his powers to see underneath whatever clothes she wore, and had heard many times through the grapevine that he was very displeased at never having a chance to have his way with her. Apparently she was the only Goddess that could resist his entreaties for very long. Consequently, she felt sick to her stomach about having to ask for his help, and what he might demand in return. Faced with the choice of her survival against short-term shame or discomfort, she had to take whatever help she could get.

With a deep breath she summoned up a shimmering red doorway before her. Reluctantly she opened it and stepped through.

On the other side she appeared in a dimly lit corridor. Twenty feet away was an enormous golden double door with platinum handles. Two very beautiful, very naked women knelt under each handle. A silver chain attached one woman to each handle by simple leather collars. Between the two girls stood another woman, a buxom red-headed girl with blood red eyes, blood red lip stick, and a vicious gleam. She was clad head to toe in skin tight polished leather that looked like the skin of a black snake, the collar of her jumpsuit plunging all the way to her navel, exposing a wide V of well-tanned skin and an enormous cleavage. Her eyebrows were pierced with small silver rings, as well as her lower lip, and one through the middle part of her nose like a bull. Her eyes were lined with heavy shadow and heavier liner, her lashes unnaturally long and lush, making her blood red eyes seem even bigger. She held a cat-o-nine-tails, running her fingers through the leather strips, and eyed Athyra with a mixture of cruelty and naked desire. Athyra refrained from reading her surface thoughts, not wishing to see what this dominatrix might be imagining.

The inter-dimensional doors always disoriented her a bit, so she took a few moments to take in the scene fully. Of course she could have simply materialized next to Fame if she wished, but even Gods had their own codes of courtesy. Just like mortals, they knocked before entering. She walked confidently up to the dominatrix, who said nothing.

“I wish to have an audience with Fame,” Athyra said haughtily, “Tell him Athyra of the West is here and I refuse to leave.”

The dominatrix stared at Athyra's breasts and licked her lips with such obvious and unabashed lust that even Athyra felt a bit embarrassed. After that brief examination the dominatrix closed her eyes for only a few moments and then nodded.

“The master will see you now,” she said. With a sudden crack, the dominatrix whipped the backs of the kneeling girls with her nine-tails. The girls cried out, then quickly got on all fours and crawled, choking themselves as they pulled open the massive door with the chains around their necks. The leather-bound door-woman whipped them on their buttocks as they slowly hauled the door open, her orgasmic satisfaction in doing so apparent on her face. When the door was finally open, the dominatrix caught her eye, raised a hand, and beckoned to the Goddess with her fingers as she turned away on her spiked heels. Athyra walked a few paces behind her, trying hard not to notice the way her hips swayed side to side with each step farther than Athyra thought possible, trying not to think about how incredibly tight that leather must be to cling so completely, without a single crease, to her perfectly formed flesh.

The inside of Fame's realm looked much like a human mansion with marble walls and obsidian columns. Everywhere naked or nearly naked women and even a few men and the occasional demi-god went about their inscrutable business. Many of them lounged around, having casual sex. A few times they passed six or seven men all crowded around a single woman, the women being either clearly ecstatic or clearly being raped. There was at least one orgy. It was hard to tell.

Athyra knew that all of these mortals were here by choice, more or less. Their libidos lead them down dark paths that eventually ended with a ritual to make a pact with Fame himself. She knew that he welcomed these rituals, though most Gods were greatly annoyed by mortals summoning them. If the mortal pleased him, Fame granted them eternal youth, beauty, and vitality in exchange for sexual slavery in his own realm for all eternity. Thinking of the gang-rape, she wondered if it was clear to the mortals taking on the contract that Fame wasn't the only one who got dominion over their bodies. Athyra once again struggled to understand the minds of mortals (who would do this willingly?) and came up short.

At last they went through another, smaller double door, this one also operated by two naked and scuffed-up slaves. The room beyond was completely open, with no side doors. Huge obsidian pillars lined with gold held up a ceiling that was a giant skylight looking out into the depths of the stars. The room itself was inexplicably well lit by bright sunlight. Nearly the whole room was given over to a clear blue pool about fifteen feet deep with a stone walkway leading out to an island that was occupied by the biggest bed Athyra had ever seen. The sheets were a deep crimson color, and even now there were a few wet spots in the process of drying. In this room were even more naked or nearly naked women lounging on the edges of the water or swimming together. More than few sat on the edge with their legs spread wide, one or two girls in the water below them with their bobbing heads concealing their lusty business. Athyra suppressed another shudder.

Fame sat on the edge of the bed facing the door. He looked like a normal mortal human man, just three times the size. The dominatrix marched straight up to him, Athyra in tow, even though the God of Lust was preoccupied by two human women and one elf orally servicing his massive cock. The elf was on her knees between the two humans, completely naked. Fame's hand rested on the back of her head, bunching up handfuls of light blond hair. The two human women were in rather modest leather bikinis and served a testicle each, fitting as much of the football sized eggs in their mouths as they could. Even from the head on angle Athyra could see that the oversized shaft barely fit in the elf's mouth, and she imagined she could hear the poor girl's jaw creaking with the effort.

“Master,” the dominatrix moaned, “The Goddess has arrived.”

Athyra glanced at the dominatrix and saw that she was eying the elf with great envy. She quickly looked away when she began to grope her own breast and licked her lips. Her eyes fell on two brunettes on the edge of the pool, both naked and dripping wet, one on top of the other, kissing and rubbing their wet bodies together. She almost turned on heel and summoned a door back to her own realm, but she managed to keep her cool.

“Very good Dahlia,” Fame's deep voice snapped her out of her reverie. He seemed unaffected by the efforts of the three women buried in his crotch. With a sudden movement and a sharp cry, the elf girl was flung away from Fame and landed hard at the feet of Dahlia the dominatrix. “Have this one as a reward. See to it that she learns how to give head.”

Before Athyra could even react to what had happened, Dahlia was on the elf girl, her knee planted between the girl's shoulder blades, tying her hands behind her back before she could even think to begin struggling. The girl's protests were silenced before they even started. Dahlia had bound, gagged, and blindfolded the girl before Athyra even knew what was happening. She suddenly felt very uneasy in this place, despite her considerable powers. Dahlia dragged the girl off by her hair, and Fame's voice brought Athyra back to herself.

“My darling Athyra,” he said, “To what do I owe this immense...pleasure?”

Athyra looked back at him, slightly repulsed by the lecherous smile that formed on his face. The leather-bikinied women were already both sucking on the head of his cock, seeming to have not noticed what happened to the elf.

“Must you do that in front of me?” she asked, sounding a bit queasy despite her best efforts. Fame regarded her seriously, and then went on in a reasonable tone.

“My dear Athyra, I do not visit your realm and tell you how to decorate your walls, or how to attire yourself, or any other such things. Let's not be rude.”

She decided to ignore his point. “I've come to ask you about something.”

Fame smiled and leaned back on his hands, his eyes fixed on her. He waited.

“Is it true that you avoided a terrible Fate?” she asked. Fame laughed.

“One does not avoid Fate,” he said, “Fate is inexorable. I simply understand Fate better than most, I suppose.”

Athyra felt confused again, much to her displeasure. “But it's said that you learned of a Fate in which you lost your power and your realms, yet you still have them.”

Fame regarded her, a strange expression on his face, as if she was saying something so ignorant that he was puzzled by her ineptitude. After a moment it cleared and became an expression of sudden revelation.

“Ah! Yes, yes, now I remember what you mean, my sweet.” He smiled again. Athyra refused to rise to the bait. “Yes, that was about twenty centuries ago if I remember correctly. The mirror of Noisuled, which I believe you now posses, informed me that it was my Fate to lose my powers, as you said. But I found a way around it.”

Lilly And The Raven - Part 3

Part 3 of part 1, concludes chapter 2! Enough numbers yet? Tomorrow will probably be a new original work.


In this post: Elf, Amazoness, masturbation, futanari, self-cumshot

My eyes opened again to the real world, my dark room, the same one from my most vivid of dreams. I was disoriented, sure that when I looked up I would see the limp body of my lover, naked and covered with a thin film of sweat, the great swaths of spit drying on her beautiful face. But the bed was empty, though my body still glowed with something resembling the passion I had felt in my dream. I felt light headed, my legs could still feel that warm, supple body pinned beneath them, my mouth still felt stretched and exhausted from that eternal kiss. I sighed and rubbed my face. A strange, wonderful dream, to be sure, but nothing more.

I threw aside the covers, finding myself still dressed as I had been when I had gone off to die. Laboriously I pulled myself to my feet, cursing the uncomfortable high heeled shoes for the millionth time. I felt strangely heavy, as if I was carrying buckets on a bar across my shoulder like a peasant woman or a servant. My legs felt strange as they rubbed together with my walk, pinched as they were into the tight pencil skirt. I ran my hands over my dress to smooth it out as I walked for the door, wondering where my husband would be so that I could ask him what happened and beg his forgiveness. But something stopped me, my hands coming to rest on my breasts. Strange...they felt different. I looked down, but I couldn't see much in this dull light, only the elegant curve they formed against the marble floor. I found a candelabra and lit it, taking it with me over to a mirror, where I gasped and nearly dropped it. My breasts had been large before, but now they were positively bulging, pushing against the tight fabric of my tailored dress so hard that the unfettered flesh curled around the top of the fabric in great piles. I turned to see my profile. I had gained five inches to my bust, at least. I was completely dumbfounded. I left before I could think about it any more, rushed through the house to find my husband, pulling on my dress as my bouncing breasts threatened to break free at any moment.

When I found him, he would barely talk to me, and I could scarcely ask any of the questions raging through my mind. What I was able to find out was that I had drank an experimental elixir, one that was supposed to make female soldiers more like men in strength, but it was nowhere near complete. He had given me the antidote, but that too was experimental. I would probably still suffer the side effects, just not as badly as I might have. When I asked what side effects, he only muttered something I couldn't understand, then refused to answer me. I felt my old fury returning, and now fear fed the flames like oil. I raged at him then, like I had been afraid to before. Something gave me strength, something in me gave my blind anger all the justification it needed. I hurled every insult at him I could think of, leveled every accusation I had kept to myself. He was too stunned to come back with words of his own. That a woman would talk to him like this...!

Finally I made my demands. He would confine himself and all his things to the west wing of our vast mansion, and he would give me the east, and neither one of us would cross the dividing line of the kitchen, which was itself neutral ground. He could have all the whores in Al Zitti, and I could be left in blessed peace to never have to look on his face again. I saw his own anger flaring up, the suddenness of my attack losing its edge. I could tell he wanted to threaten me, beat me like the other noblemen did their wives to keep them in line, but as I watched him, waiting for the slap such as I had taken from my father countless times and wondering how I would react I realized something. He was afraid of me! I was taller than him, bigger, very probably stronger. Just as he wounded my dignity with his procession of slutty outfits for me, I wounded his pride with my sheer size. He wouldn't hit me, because he feared that I would hit back! I think I smirked at him when I realized this. I drew myself up, trying to appear taller, bigger. For a long moment I kept him locked in a fearsome gaze, meeting his eyes in anger as a lady was never to do, fighting with all my will to not back down. Finally he turned away, and said that I could have it my way, what did he care if some freakish woman didn't want to be near him.

“I'll just fuck that gorgeous little whore I brought home those weeks ago when I need it. That's all your kind is good for anyway.” He shot me, trying to wound me, and I didn't care. The mere mention of her called up the image of her face quite against my will. I saw her staring at me over her shoulder as I went up the stairs, saw her drawing close to kiss me as I stormed across the house, saw her pinned and writhing beneath me as I slammed the door to my chambers and threw myself upon the bed. I closed my eyes and relived my dream, wishing desperately that I could recreate the powerful pleasure I had felt.

As I thought about kissing her supple lips, hefting her heaving breasts, caressing her smooth thighs, a change came over me. I felt the flush of excitement I always felt in my fantasies, but this time it was different. A tingling sensation came from between my legs, first the feel of skin on skin, and then skin on gentle cloth, tingling and growing more insistent. It was real, tactile sensation, and I was confused. I sat up, lifted my skirt, and stared down at the cock between my legs. I felt the scream well up in my throat. There it was, just as it had been in my dream. Long, solid, powerful, throbbing. The sound froze in my throat, my whole body went tense in alarm and indecision. Well...side effects indeed. Make the women as powerful as men...by making them into men! Had the process been stopped in me? Or had the reversal potion been one to make women more womanly, and accented my feminine features? And so now my breasts finally broke the straps of my dress as my whole body was tensed, spilled free as I looked down at the member staring back up at me. The fatalism that had held me in its grip for so long suppressed the horror I should have felt. Well, who cares if I'm deformed now, anyway, it's not as if my husband will ever see it. Shock was replaced by curiosity. It had felt so good to ravage that tight little throat in my dream, and that was just a dream, my mind's approximation of how it must feel. Good enough to enslave women for its entertainment, to pay them huge sums of gold to give up their bodies to it...

With one trembling hand I gripped the shaft of this strange thing attached to me. The pressure felt good, but not amazing. As I watched, a little dab of clear fluid came out the top and began to slowly work its way down. I lifted my hand and put my finger to the strange liquid, spreading it around experimentally. It was slick as spit. I spread it around more until I ran a slick finger over the skin of the shaft just below the head and nearly cried out as a lightning shock of pleasure shot through me. I ran my finger over it again, back and forth, a sigh escaping me in ragged breaths. It was like nothing I had ever felt in my life, not even in my dream. I squeezed my shaft again, seeing another tab of the mystery fluid come obediently out. I slicked the palm of my hand with it, then gripped the end of my member, stroking it in short movements. I had never believed that any sort of God existed before this moment, but now I was a true believer. My whole body squirmed against my will, my breath came in short gasps followed by sighs and stuttering cries. I laid back on the bed, spreading my legs a little more and stroking faster. The lubricating fluid came out on its own now, just as what was there began to dry up it would be replenished, working into a thick paste that made wet squishing sounds as I worked my hand faster, my strokes getting longer as the whole shaft became slick. On and on I went, my arm cramping until I grabbed the shaft with my other hand, working it rapidly as my dominant hand went back to short strokes along the head and the soft skin underneath. My gasps and moans became louder and more frenzied, their impassioned, abandoned music making me only more turned on. I thought again of the whore, thought of her pinned beneath me, her mouth open, her eyes closed. Thought of her leading me to the bed, her ass swaying, breasts bouncing, heels clacking against the marble floor. All at once I saw her naked on the bed, beckoning me to her, her legs spread and the beautiful pink flesh between them moist and inviting.

Suddenly my head swam, my whole body seemed to clamp down. All my energy rushed to my crotch, concentrated in my member, which grew even more sensitive, until it was a searing beacon of ecstasy, showering me in holy light. I cried out again, feeling muscles I never knew I had contracting violently and with such immense satisfaction that it seemed my whole life had been nothing but a precursor to this moment. I felt the rushing in my member, another powerful contraction that erased all thought and consciousness from my mind. I managed to keep my eyes open, and still stroking madly, greedily demanding more and more of this unbearable release, I saw the first great shot of semen fly at me, splatter on my face, fall neatly across my breasts and stomach. Another contraction, and another great shot of that fiery white liquid falling across my prone body. Again and again, each one better than the last, until finally it only seeped out, and the contractions died away. Rather than despair at the loss of my ecstasy, I felt satisfaction. I had never known true satisfaction, not until this very moment. All things seemed truly all right. All thought was gone, everything was empty, nothing mattered but the glow of my body, the release I had felt, the sticky cum cooling against my skin. Within minutes I was asleep.

I awoke feeling utter contentment, but desire. As my mind came into focus, I immediately thought of the pleasure I had given myself. Images flashed through my mind, my hand stroking, the great shot of cum hitting my face, the naked body of the whore spread out on the bed. My hand went to my member without my thinking about it, and I felt it already hard, demanding attention. But I got out of bed instead. I washed myself in the basin, finding the dried cum crusted onto my skin. In time the erection retreated, and my member became a loose thing hanging between my legs. I gathered it up, tucked it between my legs, and dressed normally, finding a garment that could accommodate my new bust, a white buttoned dress shirt very much in the style of a man that didn't make them seem so large. Still, the top buttons wouldn't hold and I stared at my deep cleavage in the mirror, strangely mesmerized by it, as if I had never seen them before.

It was a new woman who attended her duties that day. I wondered a few times why I even bothered, since my husband no longer cared what I did, but I did it anyway for I had nothing else to do. I was patient and forgiving with the servants, never raising my voice. I did some chores myself and helped a little to prepare meals. In my utter contentment, I found that I had patience enough to do anything in the world. But all day my thoughts turned to the pleasure of the night before, tantalizing images flashing in my mind. In a few moments of panic I found my new organ responding to these thoughts, threatening to grow into a telltale bulge in my tight mini skirt.

As patient and pleasant as I was that day, I was glad to escape to my room that evening. I was drawn to the full-length mirror immediately by some force I couldn't identify. I wanted to see myself. I stared intently at my breasts, followed the sensual curve of my waist down to my hips, where the satin mini skirt clung to me like my own skin half way down my thighs. I felt myself growing breathless and excited at this. Such vanity! But I watched the bulge in my skirt grow until it looked like a cucumber covered with stain cloth. I stripped off my clothes and returned to my bed, losing myself again in the pleasure.

The weeks went on and it became more incessant. I had to escape to my chambers two or three times a day to gain my release, and my thoughts never turned away from that act, or the dream that had foreseen so much of my new life. I added continually to that dream in my fantasies. I would pull my aching member from her throat that cover her face in my sticky seed, or force her to swallow it. I would pull back and put my member between her giant breasts and rub them against it. I would hold her down and penetrate her, her pretty face contorting in pain and passion as I drove into her with maniac abandon. But all I had was my hands, in the end. Even four times a day, I could never be fully satisfied. What must men do when they feel this way, I wonder? I had no wife or slave to spend my passion on.

Of course the answer came to me weeks later. I sat bolt upright in bed as I thought longingly of my dream for that pretty little prostitute. Of course! They buy their release when they had no other choice. Unlike some petty soldier saving his allowances, I was a noblewoman with a nearly limitless fortune to spend on all the carnal delights I could want. If my husband could have his whores, why couldn't I have mine?

Lilly And The Raven - Part 2

Here's part 2 of part 1 of Lilly and the Raven. 


In this post: Elves, amazoness, futanari, futa-on-girl, oral

Chapter 2

The raven-haired one

When I came to I was changed. I was in my bed, and it was night time. I was alone in the room. I closed my eyes again, and I saw the image of the blue eyes of that prostitute staring at me from beneath endless tumbles of fine black hair, her giant breasts swayed as she rocked herself back and forth on my husband's member, and she laughed as I watched in horror. I knew that this was a dream, that I was half asleep and dreaming again, but it seemed so vivid. It was like I was looking through a scryer's crystal to the image of something happening far away. The whore laughed at me, and my husband's face contorted in something like pain, but he let out a long sigh of contentment, then fell backwards on the bed, dead and colorless. The whore only smiled now, her plump lips making that evil smile consume her whole face. She released herself from my husband's corpse, and I saw little droplets of his seed escape her as she shuffled off the bed, her stiletto heels clacking loudly on the marble floor. Again I told myself to open my eyes, dispel this dream and rise from the bed to seek out my husband and find out what happened, but I couldn't do it. Briefly I considered that I might actually be dead, and that this was my punishment, to live out the moment of my greatest humiliation over and over, but the feeling passed as my mind melted again into the dream. I, my dream self, could not move as she turned and came towards me. Now I could see the front of her, the gentle taper of her hip muscles into her crotch, the muscles of her abdomen chiseled, clearly visible under her skin tight dress, though it was crumpled up around her. In this fully frontal view, her breasts were even more enormous, each one larger than my head, they swayed and jiggled as she walked towards me. Her hips swung from side to side as she walked, one foot in front of the other, graceful as a dancer in her impossible shoes. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth seductive, lips sticking out ever so slightly, begging to be touched and kissed. I wanted to move away as she came towards me, but I was rooted in place by the glinting sapphire color of her eyes, the sway of her breasts, the bulging muscles of her thighs. I realized then that I was powerfully attracted to her, that I didn't move because I wanted her to come closer. My mouth watered and I shuddered as I thought of those breasts crushing themselves against me, of bending down to plant my mouth on her lips and feel the play of her tongue against mine...

She came to a stop inches away from me, looking up into my face. Even in her impossibly high heels, she only rose high enough that her forehead met with my chin. She licked her lips as she looked at me, and I found the gesture so alluring that I scarcely knew whether to say something or simply throw her, pin her against the wall and brutally ravage her. She was so close I could feel the heat of her body, when she shifted the tips of her nipples just barely brushed the fabric of my dress. At last she spoke, and her voice was startlingly rich and deep for someone who looked so young.

“Your husband...he was not enough for me. He died as all men who spend their passion in me die.”

Strange words, the words of dreams, but they made perfect sense. I found I could make no answer. I wanted to ask her why she would go to bed with a married man, but I realized that I didn't care, and what I really wanted to know was whether my husband had paid her enough for two.

She seemed to sense my thoughts as any dream could, and smiled slyly at me. Slowly she raised her arms and put her hands on my shoulders. Soft as fur they felt, so warm as to be intoxicating. She pulled me forward, and I watched in mute exhilaration as her face drew ever closer, her eyes closing, her lips puffing out, parting just slightly as her hands slid to the back of my neck and drew me in...an explosion of heat on my face. Her lips burned like the vial I had thought was poison burned, if all the pain of that elixir had turned to pure, earth-rending pleasure. I closed my eyes and the feeling became more intense. I kissed her back, experimenting with the pressure against our lips, opening my mouth a little wider and kissing a little deeper until finally I felt her tongue probing the roof of my mouth tentatively, and the excitement rushed through me again like a drought of strong wine straight to my head. I responded immediately, feeling her tongue with mine, wrapping it around hers, slipping it off again, chasing it into her own mouth where I probed her cheeks and her teeth and the fascinating contours along the roof of her mouth. I heard a sound of pleasure escape me as I held her in the kiss and she yielded me, responding to my sigh with a moan. We gasped air through our noses and held the kiss longer and longer, until our two mouths had nearly become one. Of their own violation, my arms wrapped around her delicate shoulders, my hands stroking the solid contours of her shoulder blades, and I crushed her against me. Her breasts were like two great pillows of heat against me. I pulled her up, until she was nearly off her feet, our breasts pressed together, squirming against each other in the passionate sways of our interminable kiss. It seemed to go on forever, and though I dreaded it ever ending, I found that I was still filled with utter elation when it ended, I basked in an afterglow as luminous as the sun. The raven haired beauty in my arms looked up at me through half closed lids, I could see her swooning as I now swooned, disoriented by passion, her lips twitching, crying out for the ecstasy they had known. She was breathing heavily, and this made me realize that I was as well. I looked down, seeing the deep rapid breaths making her breasts, still pressed hard against me, swell and contract. The movement was hypnotic, the skin looked so supple, it was like nothing I had ever seen. I untangled one hand from her hair, and ran my hand over them gently. They were so smooth, so immaculate and perfect that it was indescribable, they felt even more supple than they looked. I looked at her face again and she was smiling at me, knowingly, cunningly. She pushed herself away from me, and I felt a spasm of terror, wanting to snatch her back and hold her against me again. But she took hold of one of my hands and turned towards the bed, pulling me after her. As we moved across the chamber I became absorbed in the view from behind her, I drank in the feast of carnal delight that was her nubile, immaculate flesh. I lusted so heavily after the taut, high buttocks, the smooth arms, the breasts so large that even turned away from me I could see their profile outlined above her tiny waist.

When we reached the bed I barely noticed that the corpse of my husband had vanished. She turned to me and stopped me a few inches from her. She fluffed her raven hair behind her, wiped a few errant strands from her face, and then lowered her arms to the thin fabric of her dress crumpled around her waist, pulled it down over her hips, then let it fall over her legs onto the floor. She stood before me completely naked, the dim candle light giving her delicate white flesh an unearthly sheen. She slowly lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed, running her hands down my sides as she did so, pulling me a little closer, pulling down the sleeves of my dress so that my breasts nearly spilled out. She released me and scooted back along the covers, her eyes fixed on mine, her face inviting. She licked her lips again as she sat with her legs stretched out in front of her. I looked at her feet, seeing she still wore her impossible shoes, her feet trapped in a tip-toe shape. Without a word she laid back, her breasts growing even wider and fuller as they settled against her, and then she spread her legs as she had undoubtedly done for a thousand men. But had she ever done it for a woman?

“Go on,” she said, her succulent voice broke the utter silence, dripping with lust. “Put it in. I want you inside me.”

What a strange thing to say! But I didn't care. At last everything I had wanted was coming true, everything and more, for this prostitute, this filthy, immoral, downcast, lowly, home wrecking little whore was much more beautiful than any stable boy who ever lived. I pulled off my dress and let it crumple on the ground before hers. I took off my constricting lace bra, loving the freedom and release I felt as my breasts spilled free of their prison like never before. I undid my corset and threw it over my shoulder, feeling the freedom even more strongly. The feel of the cool air on my bare skin, feeling those sapphire eyes drinking in the essence of my body felt almost as good as the kissing. I hurried along, pulling off my garter belt, my shoes stockings, and finally the last of my undergarments. My penis fell out of the panties, throbbing almost painfully, aching for stimulation. I began to move towards the bed when I looked down in horror at the thing between my legs. I was absolutely stunned, but there it was. A penis hung between my legs, stiff as a ramrod, the testicles beneath it hanging free. But it was a dream, after all. My moment of confusion passed. I didn't care. I was so turned on, I didn't care that I had suddenly sprouted one of those ugly little tools of men, the thing I had only seen twice in my life, once to suck on it, and once to look at it buried inside some gorgeous tramp.

I threw aside my thoughts as my quivering lover sat up on her elbows and pleaded with me to come to her, so I did. I crawled onto the bed, immediately feeling the heat radiating from her naked flesh. The sight of the throbbing member between my legs had made me think of the other her, the home wrecker in my home, fucking my husband, mocking me with her ecstasy.

 I suddenly felt a great measure of hostility towards her, even as my lust for her flamed ever higher. But bolstering both of these feelings, deep beneath them, living them up on massive, infinitely powerful arms was an overwhelming feeling of power. Power over this delicate, supple, gorgeous, treacherous thing squirming beneath me as I sucked on her pretty pink nipples. I was the man, now, wasn't I? I had the tool of men, the thing they lord over their women, brandish at them like a club, the one thing that they can never fully possess. This immaculate little whore was all mine, and I could do whatever I wanted to her because I had that power now. It was not simply enough to ravage her and feel the ecstasy I had longed after for so many years. I wanted to punish her now, to expend my rage on her as only a man could.

She was smiling at me, urging me on, telling me how good she felt. She was thrusting her hips at my member as I groped her breasts, trying desperately to get me to give her what she wanted. I stopped rolling those giant pillows around in my hand and grinned at her, a wicked grin. I felt a righteous satisfaction growing in me as I stared at her perfect mouth, her quivering, ample lips. I shifted, I crawled over her. She asked what I was doing, suddenly on guard. But she was a meek little Human, a little girl bred for dainty features and small stature, and I was an Elf, a foot taller than her, almost twice her weight, but possessing her same feminine beauty, excepting just one part of me now. She was powerless to stop me as I pinned her shoulders beneath my legs, felt her breasts give under me like cushions as I sat back.

I let my cock fall across her face, and looked down at her, swaying a bit to feel it rub against her soft skin. It was twice as big as my husband's, I could see it throbbing with desire, veins like ropes coiled around the bulging shaft. The whore opened her mouth and licked it, moving her head only as she could move nothing else with me pinning her down. Moans and low sounds of pleasure emanated from her as she ran her tongue all along the shaft, and up around the head. I was nearly stricken blind by the pleasure of it. I gripped my knees and tried not to cry out. Each stroke of her tongue shot through me like lightning, her hot breath felt like a cloud of satisfaction wrapping itself around my member, her moans sounded like the sweetest music in my ears. At last I could stand it no more, I shifted, drew myself up a bit. She sensed what I meant to do, and I stared down at her for a moment as she closed her eyes and opened her mouth in utter submission. Her glistening tongue waited like a grand carpet to receive me. My mouth watering, heart racing, my whole body feeling the excitement and anticipation, I took hold of my new organ and guided it to her mouth. Immediately her lips, wet and softer than anything I had ever felt in my life, closed tight around the head of my cock, and I nearly cried out again. Without any prompting from me, my hips were pushing forward, sliding it in deeper, the suppleness of her tongue, the tight grip of her lips as they enveloped my head and slipped along the shaft was almost too much. I felt like my member would explode at any moment. She tilted her head, urged me on, and I continued to push forward, my body trembling with pure sublime pleasure, my eyes closing out of sheer necessity. I felt the passage of her mouth narrow, grow tighter as I pushed now into her throat, but she did not gag or cry out. Of course not, why would a whore be revolted by her life's work? I felt my member bend sharply, but the slight pain was even more exhilarating. I opened my eyes and looked down at her, her sapphire jewels staring back at me as she strained to look up at me. Her mouth was as wide as it could be, her cheeks were puckered in as she sucked as had as she could, transforming her face into something long and strange but oddly beautiful. I pushed until her nose rested against my pelvis, my testicles resting on her chin. She looked up at me still for a few moments, then began to squirm just slightly, a small panic entering her gorgeous eyes. I only watched. Her face turned red and she began to struggle uselessly against my superior weight, my strength. I saw her eyes begin to roll up into the back of her head, and I pulled out quickly. A guttural cry came out of her as I pulled free, as if pulled up from deep inside of her by my deep probing. She gasped for air and made another noise. Before she had even fully recovered I shoved my member back into her mouth, looking down at her panicked eyes. This time I held it for only a moment, then began to pump in and out of her throat. Oh, this was pure ecstasy. My mind was utterly blank, only the wet, hot, slippery feeling of ravaging this poor girl beneath me existed. I paid no attention to the squishing noise of my thoroughly slobbered cock ravaging her tiny throat, I just rocked back and forth, feeling the change of pressure, the textures and contours of her mouth trapped helplessly around my member.

Finally, I looked down at her again, pulling my aching cock from her mouth and looking at her face, now covered with her slick saliva thickened into a white, bubbling paste from my thrusting. Her makeup was smeared about her eyes and lips, I watched the paste sliding slowly to her ears as she stared up at me panting heavily, her mouth still open as if frozen. She look at me with submission and naked want, and then the dream ended.