It had been years since their last rendezvous, and still he could see her as if she'd left his side mere minutes ago. Long, shining, ink-black hair, curling around his fingers as if making love all on their own. Eyes the color of the sea in winter, gray-green and stormy. She was the product of a water wraith and a human, just as he was, but, where he had inherited his father's gift for human magic, she had inherited her mother's. The visions of a future she couldn't change had frightened her, and made their time together all the more precious.

Weeping was useless, and he had already cried a river of tears for the loss of his Rhiannon. Years had he spent, weeping and wishing, but now he was doing. She was so close. He could feel her presence at Shadow Hall, the place of his youth. Still there, she had been kept from him long enough. Now he had done what no Wizard dared. Now he had the leverage to strong-arm his father into accepting what had to be. If the great Shadow Master refused, then the kingdoms he held under his sway would be destroyed, completely and utterly.

He closed his eyes, refusing to dwell on the bloodshed of the future, preferring to remember the bittersweet love of his past. Her body stretched out on his bed. His hand, sure and knowing on flesh he had touched since childhood, caressed her breast with all the gentle ferocity of true love.

Sighs of soft pleasure hardened him, created a flood of passionate need that forced him over her, into her, melding thought to deed, sister to brother, hopeless love to sinful desire. They were twins, born of the same womb, together through life in a maelstrom of secrecy and lust. He thrust into the liquid center of her body and defied his fate to embrace his passion. She urged him on, whispering his name over and over as if convincing herself that he was truly separate from her, that their souls were not merged as their bodies were. Silky skin, heated and moist, wrapped around his hips and pulled him deeper. Her lips were wet, meshing against his shoulder, the contact muting the sound of her whispers.

But he hadn't died. He'd raised himself onto his hands, lunging into her with every ounce of physical strength he possessed. Her breasts heaved with every thrust, and her hands clutched his ribs, holding to him as if she could save him. The whispers became cries, wordless and echoing in his mind. His love for her was embodied in the iron hard length between his legs. She accepted it, raising herself to meet his rampaging desire, and the sound of flesh striking flesh bounced off the walls of the room.

Pausing, he pulled back to take her ankles in his hands. They were thin, delicate bones delineating a structure that was at once desirable and fragile. He kissed her toes, running his tongue over the clean length of her insole. She shivered. Her fingers trailed over the gentle rise of her belly. They curled into the dark triangle between her thighs, opening her sex to his hot gaze.

Placing her ankles over his shoulders, he pushed the shining bar of his cock into her waiting sheath. She sighed, sliding her fingers over the wet shaft. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he murmured back, leaning forward to pin her knees to her chest. Her fingers circled above his cock and he moved within her, slow, deep, and steady until she gasped. Her sex tightened around his cock, tugging it with the force of her climax.

When the grip of her inner muscles eased, he slammed hard into her, causing her to cry out as a miniature contraction shook her like an aftershock. Deeper and faster he thrust, the sound of his voice mingling with her cries. His balls were tight, slapping against her lower sex with each gasping heave.
He exploded in the tight confines of his sister's sex, coating her inner walls with evidence of his lust and love.
"I wish I could touch you. I still want you." He caught images in her thoughts; his body straining over hers, the look on his face arousing even to him. The still-hard length of his cock jerked beneath his robes. Desire hammered at him, and he realized he was sharing more than her thoughts, but her physical sensations as well. "Take off your clothes," he thought, matching the words to an image of her nude body writhing beneath his hands.

She gasped, sliding from her dress. "We shouldn't do this."

It was a doomed protest. Quickly, he stood to toss his robes to the side. Back on the cot once more, he focused his vision on her as he took his cock in his hand. No words were necessary now. She was lying back on the rocks, running her hands over her breasts and belly. He watched, his hand moving over the shaft of his cock in time to her breathing. He felt her hands, the sensation overlapping his own, combining until it was enough to make him scream.

When her fingers delved into her sex, parting the lips to stroke at the small extrusion of her clitoris, they both gasped. He tightened his hand over his cock. Every vein was in harsh relief, the dark skin of the head revealed and then hidden as his fist swept over it. A kaleidoscope of pictures played through his mind, an orgy containing only two people, mirrored over and over again as his lust mounted.
Queen Merid reclined before him, her naked body posing in a manner he supposed would have been seductive if he hadn't been angry. His grab for power had begun with a grab for the Queen. It would continue that way until he could wrest control of her kingdom from her -- after she won it, of course. Little did King Oren and his puny High King realize that the enemy had no land of their own. They were nomadic, almost extinct since the floods. The entire continent was sinking slowly into the sea.
Refusing to back down, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her, trying to put some heat into the stare. "I tire of playing the role of submission, My Queen. You may enjoy a Master Wizard for a change." He put the emphasis on the word 'Master'.

Her eyes brightened, humor apparent. "Indeed, this may prove to be interesting," she murmured before turning to Fred. "Guard the entrance. Let no one in or out."

So that was his warning. If Jarlath displeased her, she would keep him here for punishment. He nodded and Fred exited, his strange rasping laugh following him out of the tent. Turning his eyes to the Queen, he uncrossed his arms. "On your feet, Merid."

She frowned. "This is to be a game, Wizard. If I dislike it, then you will cease."

"If you dislike it you may tell me so." He stepped forward to take her arm in his strong fingers. "I will stop if I wish to stop." And he pulled her to her feet, catching her as she began to tug away from his hand. "No," he said, keeping his tone even and level. "You may resume command when we're finished, but not before."

The stare-down that was engendered by this statement was made easier as a vision of Rhiannon interposed itself into his sight. She was still naked, poised on the rock in a position that made his balls ache. The heat of his stare must have affected even the jaded Queen. "Do as you wish, Wizard," she murmured.

"I will help you fuck her, Brother." Rhiannon's senses wound through his, bolstering them, creating a heady sense of being in two places at once.

Jealousy had never been a part of their relationship. There was no need for it, and their love for each other was stronger than sex; stronger even than the separation they had endured. He could feel her lust, and the caring that came with it. It gave him strength, and a massive erection. The urge to bury his stiff prick was overwhelming.

Merid's eyes flashed as he spun her around and pushed her against the table set in the middle of the room. "Stay," he commanded, as if she was a dog in need of stern tones. He tossed his robes over his head, letting them float to the floor behind him. Merid remained in position, although she readjusted herself. Moving her feet toward him, she arched her back, presenting him with the round, firm flesh of her posterior. Her hands were braced on the table, and her breasts hung down, heavy, the nipples pointing at the ground.

Pausing, he shook his head in wonder. The woman was a slave to her own appetites. It would be her undoing if he let her rule much longer. Inside his head, another voice agreed with him. It was time for a rebellion. He entered her cunt without preparation, lunging his hips forward until they met her upturned derriere with all the force he could muster. She grunted with the impact.

"Whore," he observed, and followed up with short, deep jabs before she could answer. Rhiannon's senses followed his, her arousal heightening, spiraling as he thrust into the Queen. They were both fucking the woman, his sister riding his cock from within. It was far too much for him, and he lasted only a minute or two, thrashing in the heated tunnel surrounding his prick.

Merid pulled forward, letting his last spasm spurt onto the floor. Turning, she glared at him, opening her mouth for some scathing comment, but he wasn't through with her. Not yet.

Jerking her off-balance, he sat in the chair beside the table and hauled her over his lap. Again, her rounded posterior was positioned in front of his eyes. Ignoring it for the moment, he grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her head up as he leaned forward. She sputtered, fuming in obscene curses. "You serve me now, Whore," he hissed. "Be silent."

The curses continued, as did her struggles. Raising his free hand, he smacked it against her raised derriere. She cursed him again. He hit her again, sharp and hard, tightening his hold on her hair to keep her still. "I said -- be silent!" And his palm cracked against her flesh, leaving a white handprint that slowly colored deep rose.

Silence greeted him, and he smiled. Rhiannon's voice had ceased, although he could feel her senses still twining within his. Together, they struck the Queen's raised ass one more time and then trailed his hand down to delve his fingers into the wet crevasse of her cunt. She jerked on his lap, widening her legs. He thrust two fingers into the sloppy tunnel and slipped his thumb into the puckered ring of her anus.

In his mind's eye, he watched his sister slip her own fingers into her sex, and the sight was so lascivious that he hardened again. His cool cock pressed against Merid's belly, and she widened her legs yet again, attempting to draw him further into arousal. Her moan went unheard as he focused on his sister's face. Rhiannon's eyes were bright; the sun on a raging sea of passion. The tip of a pink tongue circled her lips, and her fingers opened her sex for him to see.

Jarlath jabbed into the Queen, the sound of his harsh manipulation wet and loud. She writhed on his lap, no longer struggling against him, but urging him on. He withdrew his hand and pushed her. She tumbled onto the floor with a loud cry. "Suck my cock, Merid," he ordered.

Surprise hardened into understanding on her face. "Yes, Master Jarlath," she whispered.

He favored her with a tight smile and turned his attention back to the visions in his mind as she leaned forward to take his erect prick in her mouth. Rhiannon was looking down, watching her fingers slide in and out of her sex, moving them on her clitoris each time they exited. "I see her sucking your cock," she said, and her words were colored with lust. "I am you, Jarlath."

She was experiencing everything vicariously, having become so entwined into his sensations that she saw everything from his eyes. "Can you see yourself?" he asked.

"Yes." She raised her fingers from her sex, shining and wet, and placed the tips in her mouth, licking her juices from them. "I can feel what this does to you."

And he could feel her reaction. It spiraled, bouncing between them, lust so fervent and hungry that he could stand very little of it. Grabbing Merid's hair, he closed his eyes and thrust into her mouth, using her without thought. She growled around his cock, the hum of her voice just another stimulation. Her hand wrapped around the shaft, holding him from delving too deep into her throat.

Rhiannon's fingers were twirling over and into her sex, creating slippery waves of sensation to wash through his abraded nerves. Her hips rose off the rock, an imprint of the jagged edges showing on her pale buttocks. She cried out, and he felt the spasms, locking his own hips forward and yanking on Merid's hair. His semen was scalding. It pulsed from his prick in time to Rhiannon's contractions.

When he opened his eyes, he looked down at Merid. She was still kneeling before him, and his semen covered her face in shining streaks.

Rhiannon's voice floated into his thoughts. "Bring in the devil. Let him finish her off."

Yes, it was time to show Fred who was the Master and who the slave. "Would you like to be fucked, Merid?" he asked, keeping his tone as calm as he could with his elevated breathing.

"Yes, Master Jarlath." She looked up into his eyes, still far too superior. She reached for his flaccid prick.

"No," he warned. "I've had enough of you. I'll reward you with Fred, though."

Her eyes widened. "But..."

"Fred, come in here," Jarlath interrupted, pretending he hadn't heard the note of protest.

The tent flap opened and Fred's leering grin was fixed on the kneeling Queen.

"Who is your master, Merid?" Jarlath's tone was stern and pointed.

Queen Merid looked from one to the other, and a gleam of understanding was in her eyes when she finally looked down. "You are, Master Jarlath."

"Then fuck her, Fred."

The devil began to laugh. His head tossed back on his shoulders, and great gasps of humor rang through the room. "We should take lessons from you, Master." And he proceeded to carry out his orders, pushing the chastened Queen to the floor.

Jarlath turned to exit, but she caught his eye as the demon thrust into her wide-spread cunt. She winked once, then her eyes closed and a moan of rapture echoed into the chamber.
The path on which he walked was soft and green, leading around the great conglomeration of buildings that formed his home, Shadow Gate. Looking at the horizon from inside the perimeter had driven men mad, but the Master contemplated the swirling agony of his Wardings without a qualm.

The lake came into view, its waters gently lapping at a shore that curved in a smooth arch. The beach was sheltered by rocks at either end, and he knew he would find her there; his consort, wife, whatever he decided she was at the moment. It didn't matter what he called her, she was his surcease from the constant worry that plagued him. The more power he gained, the more he worried.

The path curved around the beach and circled to the rocks. He spotted the deep blue of her hair. It was splayed out on the rock, absorbing the sunlight in wet splendor. Her skin was tinted blue, as if she were human and very cold. Elemental, she was a water witch.

He smiled, watching her raise her head to greet him. Her eyes, as dark as the depths of her lake, were wide and unconcerned. Neither happy nor sad, her emotionless outlook never ceased to ease him into comfort. It didn't matter to him that she would mate with any man who desired her. His passion was enough for both of them.

And his Wardings kept out all but the most determined of men.

She rose from the rocks, her naked body moving toward him with a fluid grace that stiffened his cock. She was beautiful in his eyes, the only woman he wanted. They faced each other, standing on the white sand of the beach at the foot of the rocks. "You wish to mate?" she asked. There was nothing of human seduction in her eyes. All of her allure came from her body; her stance; the soft stroke of her fingers over his hand.

There had never been any other real reason to seek her out. Never had she refused him, not even the first time he'd seen her, sunning herself on the rocks. He'd built his home around hers, spending years on the Wardings, both to keep his enemies, and her possible lovers, out. He touched her cheek, running his fingers over the smooth, cool skin. "Yes," he said.

She smiled. The answer pleased her in some remote way. Not for the first time, he wondered if she found more enjoyment in their liasons than he thought. She put her hand to the hood of his black cloak and pulled it back to reveal his face. His disguise wasn't necessary here, so he looked at her out of eyes the color of deep forest shadow.

The closure around the neck popped free under her fingers. The billowing dark folds that hid him from the light floated to the ground. He stepped forward, leaving his damning disguise on the sand. His cock canted up, moving to meet the gentle touch of her fingers as they wrapped around the shaft.

Breezes played over his heated skin, coming in from over the water. The sensation was comforting and unusual. His disguise kept the gaze of mortal man wide in terrified submission, but it also kept him from enjoying what it meant to be human. He touched her breast, running his fingers around the cool, bluish flesh, settling them on a darker nipple.

Her hold on his cock tightened and she tugged him into the water, stopping at the edge of the rocks. Liquid blue surrounded his chest, cold against his skin. The shaft of his cock was still warm in her hand, although her fingers were chilled. Used to the chill, the Shadow Master now thought of it as a part of his lust for her, and it served only to heighten his desire.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, and her breasts rose, briefly clear of the water as she wrapped her legs around his hips. A soft sigh sounded from her as she impaled herself on his rigid phallus. The moisture within her sex was adapted to mating in the water; it was thick enough to fight the dilution that would have occured otherwise.

A single, long shudder ran through the length of his body, and his hands found purchase beneath her. Her legs widened, her feet floating out behind him, and he both pulled her close and thrust against her. She fell backwards, arching in the water, her hair fanning out, blending in color and texture.

Holding her hips, he guided her cunt, floating her in the water as if she were a mere doll. Each forward thrust pushed her closer to the shore, one step at a time. He knelt when the water reached his hips, still pushing her inch by inch into a position where he could gain more leverage. It wasn't enough to slide her cunt over his cock. He wanted to hold her, to use her entire body.

Her eyes opened when her shoulders hit the sand. He thrust forward and the sand built up in a barrier around her upper body. Deeper, he shoved, driving hard into the center of his lust. Then he fell over her, pummelling her with the hard iron of his cock. Her legs were wide spread, knees bent and her hips raised. Each powerful lunge caused water to surge out from between them.

The sound was liquid. Again, the sound of moving water was a part of his lust, and he curled his fingers in the sand, finding purchase to shove into her. Grunting with each thrust, he ignored the sound of his voice, and watched the movement of her firm breasts. Reddened veins stood out on her pale blue skin, turning it purple. Her nipples reddened to a shade of plum that indicated her own excitement.

Grinding his cock into her cunt, he sought to bring about her release first. She gasped, pushing back at him, circling her hips to further stimulate the small erection of her clitoris. The skin of her calves was warming as he reached down to drag them upward. When they were resting on his shoulders, her fingers crawled between them, pulling at her sex. She stroked the hooded nub, and he drove into the frothing hole below it. Water splashed, warm in the shallows, and he groaned.

Her cunt, cool in the beginning, was heating, and the muscles were tightening. Soon, she would come. The pinnacle of her passion was as exciting to him as his own. It proved that she was capable of passion, capable of feeling more than bland acceptance, but it passed all too swiftly. She cried out. Her body jolted, and her nipples looked as if they would burst. Her lips were dark purple, and he knew her sex was the same color.

Ramming into the spasming tunnel of her cunt, he fought the contractions, gave her no time to recover. It was over, and he went for his own pleasure. Arching, his wordless exclamation was loud on the beach. It echoed in the trees, and over the rocks.

The head of his cock was buried deep inside her cunt, and it spurted against the walls of the tunnel, mingling his juices with hers.

Slowly, he turned to face her again. "I don't believe you're immune to lust, Princess," he said, and there was a sharp quality to the yellow flecks in his eyes.

"At least my responses are less than normal," she answered, mentally regretting the wistful tone of her voice.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that?"

Caught by his expression, she nodded, still staring into his eyes. They were dark, almost black, the yellow turning golden as he stepped toward her. His hand on her arm drew her against his chest.

"Perhaps we should test that theory," he murmured, and kissed her.

The kiss was soft, coaxing rather than forceful, the feel of his lips warm against hers. Stunned, she remained perfectly still as he put his arms around her, pulling her close. His chest was hard beneath her breasts. Hands pressed against her shoulders, trailing down to the small of her back. Anger was a distant reaction, less real than curiosity. This was the first time a man had dared approach her in this manner.

Her own hands raised to his waist, holding him with a delicate touch. There had been no kissing during her observation into Alex's bedchamber, just pure sexual adventure. This was strangely comfortable, and she relaxed against him, raising her face to his kiss. It seemed natural to raise her arms and place them around his neck, so she did it and curled her fingers through his hair. The motion stretched her entire body against his, and the hand at her back increased its strength. She felt the strain of his hard phallus through his robes and her dress. It pressed against her lower stomach as if searching for a response. He wanted her.

A flutter of desire tugged at her attention. Curious, she moved against him to see if it would heighten her response. It heightened his. A soft sound passed his lips to echo against hers. His arms tightened. His lips moved to her throat, and she tilted her head to give him access. It all felt right, a natural stream of action. It was far different than watching from a hiding place. She was the center of his attention, and that pleased some part of her that required it. But her response wasn't truly lustful. It was trusting.

"Nothing as good as this." His hand was on her stomach, caressing. His hard prick, unconfined within the robes he still wore, was below the leather seat of her trousers, brushing against her thighs. She couldn't feel it through the leather, of course, but he felt it. The nape of her neck was bare, tantalizing him, wispy strands of white-blond hair that had strayed from her shining braids the only decoration on her pale skin. He kissed it, keeping his hand just below her breasts, still caressing.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she asked, her tone more curious than anything else.

"Obviously. Are you still under the impression that you're immune to lust?" He moved his hand over her breast, teasing the nipple into hardness.

"Not immune," she answered, keeping her body curled. "I don't seem to be as affected by it as other people seem to be."

"Perhaps we should test that hypothesis," he murmured, tugging the bow that held her laces closed. Insinuating his fingers beneath her shirt, he touched the warm skin of her breast.
"Cedric..." she began.

He ignored her and kissed her neck again, running his tongue to the edge of her collar. Her nipple was hard beneath the palm of his hand now, a tense little pebble that did not speak of immunity. Snaking his hand out from the tangle of loosened laces, he tugged at her shirt, pulling the bottom out of the waistband of her trousers. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable without these?" he whispered, manipulating the top button that held the leather up around her waist.

"This isn't the time or the place," she protested.

"Yes, it is," he insisted, tugging open another button. There were four in all. "We're safe, alone, and if I don't do this soon I'm going to lose my mind." The skin of her lower belly was soft against his fingers.

Another button popped out, and there was one left. The leather fall was sagging to one side. She moved, curling even further inward. He sighed and pulled the last button, flattening his hand against the skin that had been revealed.

"Stop it, Cedric," she said, but she didn't try to stop him, not really.

The front of her body was warm against his hand, and the curls that guarded her sex were silky, not coarse. So close, and the chill of the evening did nothing to cool his senses. He held the Virgin Princess in his arms and thought about nudging the center of her capacity for arousal, as he'd done to Lady Alex. No, he couldn't resort to that, not with this woman, although it would prove his point and get him exactly what he wanted.

A vague picture of Master Sweeny peering into the old law books occured to him. "It would be a suicide mission for them, Princess," he said. Her fingers brushed against the head of his cock, halting the vision. The robe was in the way, but he pressed her hand against it.

"And it wouldn't be for you?" Her fingers, supple and curious, curled around both the material and the flesh.

"If you keep doing what you're doing I might be able to focus better," he said, covering her fingers with his. It was a blatant manipulation, but it was also true. If he didn't get her out of his system he'd never be able to concentrate on Jarlath.

Her eyes were wide, staring into his as if trying to determine the truth or lie he was telling her. Her hand was motionless beneath his, neither continuing nor pulling away. In the end it was his cock that decided the issue, pushing up against her hand as if it had a mind of its own.

She drew her hand out from under his and he closed his eyes in defeat.

The blanket was pulled down, and he opened one eye. She tugged his robes upward, keeping her gaze away from his face. Cheeks that were normally pale were ruddy in the firelight. A slow smile began somewhere near his toes as the cool night air caressed his thighs. His cock threw an arched shadow over his stomach; strong, proud and unrestrained.

The tone of her voice was nonchalant, but the red stain on her cheeks deepened. "I know men seem to be easily distracted by sexual thoughts." Her hand wrapped around the shaft, warm and hesitant. "And I don't see any harm in this."

Then she did the one thing he hadn't dreamed she'd do; she lowered her lips over his cock. The bulbous head disappeared, and he was surrounded by warmth so sweet he moaned in gratitude.

She glanced up once, blushing furiously, but she never let go of his cock.

He stared, watching her lips slide over the hard bar of flesh. I've fallen asleep, he thought in amazement. I just have to be dreaming.

One small hand rested on his stomach, caressing in slow circles; the other remained wrapped tight around the base of his cock. He tensed, clutching the cloak beneath him and pushing against the restraint of her hands.

All the frustration of the last few months gathered into an explosive convulsion. It came all the way from his toes, flooding her mouth with a volley of jets that overflowed to drip down her chin.

Serves her right, he thought with a dim sense of satisfaction. Frustrating wench.
The High King's throne was occupied by a naked man. He was chubby, hairy, and currently grinning at a young woman who was also naked and kneeling in front of him. His crown made a distinct chunking sound as he hooked it over the back of his throne. Yes, he was the High King, and he went by the name of Eddie.

The Shadow Master, who had arrived by means most normal people wouldn't want to know about, raised a brow behind the mask of his disguise. "Edward," he said, inflecting the name with a deep darkness that rang through the room like a death knell.

Bright blue eyes turned up from the kneeling girl and fixed on the dark shadow in the corner. "Come to join the party, Cousin?"

The Shadow Master ignored the familiarity. "Oren's kingdom is in danger of being overrun by seventh level demons. Are you going to send troops?"

High King Eddie sighed. When he sighed it was obvious. A great barrel chest rose and fell, and his expression looked downright sad behind his full beard. "I thought rebel Wizards and demonic forces were more up your alley. I wouldn't dream of interfering." He flicked his gaze back to the kneeling woman. "What are you waiting for?"

She smiled, giving the Shadow Master an impression of full, ripe lips before she leaned forward to extend her tongue toward the royal scepter. Eddie had a thick cock, although it wasn't very long, which complimented with the rest of his anatomy. It rose, fat and solid, from an abundant forest of thick dark curls below the ample curve of his belly.

The kneeling woman licked at it as if it was a particularly refreshing lollipop. Eddie grinned again, showing pink gums and the single tooth he had left. It was on the bottom, sticking up like an abandoned standing stone. "Why would you want troops, anyway? All my intelligence points to a fighting force that no one can control. Seventh level devils are notorious for switching allegiance in the middle of the fight."

The Shadow Master shook his head. "I'm not asking for troops to help Oren. I've already got Cedric posted out there. I need the troops at Shadow Gate."

That took Eddie's attention away from the engulfing action of the woman's full lips. They descended over his cock without pause as the High King stared at the Shadow Master in unabashed surprise. "You need help at Shadow Gate?"

Pride would usually stand in the way of such a request, but the Shadow Master had no pride when it came to a single subject. "My wife is missing," he said, and the stentorian tone he'd used before was lost in the startling sense of deprivation that emanated from him. "I need to search the entire estate. I don't have the manpower."

"But you're a Wizard," Eddie's girlfriend said, raising her head to stare up at the dark shadow. "You can use magic to locate her."

"I'm being blocked." He shifted on the marble flooring, feeling uncomfortable with the presence of humans. Especially humans he was asking for help. He'd already tried to locate her with his magic. Either she was hiding herself, and, considering her own powers, it was possible; or she was outside the barrier. The thought of her leaving his protected boundaries made him squirm.

Eddie laughed. "You'll owe me, Cousin."

The Shadow Master grimaced inside his disguise. Cousin. Would he never let him forget that unfortunate circumstance? "Yes," he agreed, gritting his teeth. "What is your price?"

"What shall I exact from my esteemed cousin, Nancy?" Eddie asked, turning his amused gaze to the woman in front of him. "What would be appropriate considering his lack of anything I want?"

Her hand moved over the High King's fat dick, stroking it up and down with her fingers. Her brows creased as she turned to the Shadow Master and considered the question. "He looks lonely," she said finally, turning again to her King. "I think it would help get his mind off his wife if he had some other diversion."

Eddie chuckled. "You aren't put off by his dark appearance?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, no, Eddie. It's a turn on. I like mysterious men."

The music was loud. It faded into the Shadow Master's hearing as he materialized. Wincing, he tried to ignore the pounding beat. It insinuated itself into the very walls of the room, creating an atmosphere of thudding expectation. He knew what the crowd saw, and waited for some kind of reaction.

A dark cloak swirled toward the ground, but his feet never showed. It made him look as if he floated over the floor. The hood encased his head, and only deep pinpoints of red glowing in the darkness showed there was anyone present in the cloak at all. This usually made people back away in a hurry. It wasn't working now.

"I'm here," he muttered from his place behind the High King. "Can we get this over with? I have other things to do."

"Nervous?" Eddie asked, obviously not affected by his sudden appearance.

Refusing to answer, he crossed his arms over his chest. Eddie was short and stout in his kingly robes. A heavy beard hid most of his face, but the blue eyes were just as bright and sharp as they always were beneath the golden rim of his crown. The heavy crown was tilted rakishly to the side.

"Have at him, Nancy," Eddie said, chuckling loudly.

The full-lipped woman took his arm. She was wearing a thin dress. It accentuated her pointed nipples and flowed down each curve with a glitter in the flickering lights. "You're so tense," she said, squeezing his biceps. "Come over here and sit down."

Eddie's laugh followed them to the shadowed corner. Three divans were set in an open square, and a squat table took up most of the space in the middle. Nancy slid onto the back divan, tugging his arm until he sat beside her. "You hate Eddie," she observed, waving at a servant that scuttled through the crowd.

"I try not to be obvious about it." The servant handed them both drinks in golden goblets, bowed once, then disappeared into the mass of bodies milling around. The bodies were beginning to shed clothing. A naked breast jiggled between two men as they writhed to the beat of the music. The Shadow Master averted his eyes to look at Nancy's face.

"Why don't you just kill him, then?" she asked, sipping from her goblet. "It isn't as if anyone could really punish you for it. You'd just disappear."

He sighed. "Edward is High King. Killing him would accomplish nothing unless his heir was ready to take the throne. He isn't."

"You don't want to be High King?" she asked, surprise in her voice. Her hand was creeping over his cloak, measuring the body beneath it.

"No," he answered, lifting his goblet. He drank, knowing it looked rather strange as the top of the goblet disappeared in the hood. He shrugged. "I don't want to be High King. The job would take up all my time."

Her fingers wandered over his chest, firm and questioning. "That's good for Eddie, then. He was wondering why you didn't try to off him earlier." The hand circled his stomach, her fingers kneading the muscles, exploring his physique as she couldn't do by sight. She giggled as she looked into the hood. "It's very strange trying to seduce a red-eyed shadow."

"It's strange being seduced as a red-eyed shadow," he muttered, downing the wine in his goblet as her hand crept lower. Her fingers were splayed over the black cloak at the base of his cock, crawling over it inch by inch. "And by the High King's spy, no less."

She giggled again. "You're important enough to get the very best," she said, moving her fingers in light, tantalizing circles over the head of his prick. It was still soft, although the direct stimulation was enough to produce an amount of interest. The shaft was stiffening, slowly rising to meet her fingers. "Eddie said you were mostly human. He was right," she said.

The music slowed, imbuing the flickering atmosphere with primitive seduction. It reminded the Shadow Master of the jungle, where he'd once seen bodies writhing as they communicated with their gods. This was the same thing, except the participants knew there were no gods, just writhing bodies. Most of the crowd were standing in the middle of the bare floor, hands raised, rubbing together in time to the music. Clothing dropped to the floor, or was tossed high over the mass of humanity to flutter into the corners.

The High Court had turned into a circus on the coronation of Eddie. Open sexuality was admired and encouraged. Marriages were made only to give children a solid family structure. Not even Eddie would outlaw marriage entirely. He'd taken the institution down to its most basic purpose and declared that to be the only purpose. The only criteria left for a marriage was the fact of a child.

It was a travesty. But the Shadow Master had to put up with it or take over himself. He'd chosen to wait for the heir to come of age. It was getting to be a long wait. Soon, though. The boy was almost ready, and then Eddie would find a knife at his throat. The Shadow Master's hand would be on the hilt.

In the darkness beneath his cloak he stretched his legs, reclining his head on the back of the cushions. The hand exploring him became bold, circling his lengthening shaft through the material. "Can you remove the cloak?" she asked, whispering near his shoulder.

He flicked his gaze from the undulating crowd on the floor to her face. Her lips were wet. The word 'no' occurred to him. He discarded it as she ran her tongue along her teeth. If he was supposed to perform for the High King, he should do his best. The fastening to his cloak revealed itself at a thought. The lacing holding it closed down the front unraveled and the cloak opened. He grinned at the look on her face. Parlor tricks usually got that kind of an expression from the uninitiated. He hadn't entirely lost his touch.

The darkness she saw inside his hood was the same darkness she saw inside the cloak. It had revealed only that he was, indeed, a shadow.

"An illusion," she murmured, touching his bared chest. "You feel real."

"A shadow with substance," he intoned, keeping his voice dark and sepulchral.

"Impressive substance." Her hand circled the turgid staff and slid its entire length.

A woman hit the cushions beside them with a slap of her breasts as they hit each other. Another woman knelt in front of her and began to lick at her belly. The sight sent a jerking reaction through the Shadow Master's cock. "Watch them," Nancy whispered, and her head disappeared into the darkness between his legs.

Another servant offered a goblet, and he accepted, shifting until he was comfortable. A rough tongue ran over the head of his cock, then wet warmth surrounded it. He sighed. It had been a long time since he'd been the seduced rather than the seducer. His gaze wandered around the room. The woman beside him was humping her hips in widening circles, and the one between her legs held open her cunt with her fingers as an agile tongue lapped at the wet folds of flesh. A man approached, holding a thick club of a prick in his hands. He knelt behind the licking woman and shoved the club between her thighs from the rear.

The divan on the right held five people. Each of them was joined to the other in a daisy chain of lust. Not a stitch of clothing hid any portion of their bodies. Three pairs of breasts, as different from each other as night and day, swung and bounced with motion. Two cocks, rampant and shining, were shoved into cunts that clung, clutched, and pushed. Mouths were locked together, tongues dancing in much the same rhythm as the dancers on the floor.

The left divan was in danger of tipping over as a brawny, dark skinned man slammed against a women who had her hands on the back of the couch. Her knees were wide spread and perched on the cushions as she presented her ass to the man.

The sounds of flesh against flesh countered the music, growing in strength. On the dancefloor a woman jumped upward and circled her legs around the waist of a man. An unseen woman guided the waving cock into the cunt poised over it. Another man moved behind the standing twosome and wrapped his arms around the woman, offering her breasts to any who would taste them.

A kaleidoscope of cock and cunt offered itself to the Shadow Master's sight. He sipped his wine and luxuriated in the sensations going on below his waist. Nancy worked him slowly. Each lick and suck was deliberate, designed to enhance his reaction rather than cause an explosion. His gaze roved around the room, watching the mass of flesh writhe and flex.

The heady scent of arousal permeated the aroma of incense, wafting about with the smoke as the air was stirred by the moving crowd. The room was warming, becoming heated with lust. The music pounded, pushing the crowd to further acrobatics. One woman was crouching over a man in the middle of the floor. Another man was slamming into her from the rear, and still another was kneeling, his dick sliding in and out of her mouth. The Shadow Master stared at them for a while, until the men all pulled out of each orifice. Cocks jerked and spat, covering the woman in dripping semen. She rubbed it into her skin and gestured to the rest of the men surrounding her.

Laughter, occasional shouts of intensity, and moaning orgiastic cries competed with the music. The High King approached, followed by an entourage of men and women just as naked as he was. It seemed the only person who had retained clothing was the woman kneeling in front of the Shadow Master.

"Enjoying yourself, oh, Shadowy One?" asked the King, laughing out loud. "I was wondering if the disguise would come off with the cloak."

Lips stroked his shaft, teeth nibbled, and the Shadow Master glared at Eddie. "Go away."

"You're neglecting Nancy, Cousin. We can't have that kind of selfish behavior." He pulled Nancy upward, leaving the Shadow Master's cock to wave in the flickering light, a turgid shadow colored charcoal with his disguise. Without the cloak, the illusion clung to him like a second skin.

Hands reached over his chest from behind him, stroking. removing the goblet from his grasp. Fingers clasped his nipples, tugging. The threesome beside him shifted. The women surrounded him, one on either side, and the man wrapped his hand around the upstanding phantom cock. Female fingers played with the hanging testes, and the Shadow Master kept his glare fixed on Eddie.

"Watch her, Wizard. It might do you good to see what pleases a woman instead of that water bitch of yours." Eddie's eyes had narrowed.

Gritting his teeth over a rejoinder that he'd used a thousand times, the Shadow Master turned his red-eyed gaze on Nancy. She stood in the middle of a crowd. Her hands were in the air and the hem of her glittering golden dress crawled up her body. Her thighs were rounded, shaped in muscular femininity. The dark triangle of curls between her legs was a shadow, echoing the bowl of her navel. Her breasts sat on her ribs, full, ripe; promising to sag lower when gravity caught up with them.

Eddie moved behind her, kissing a pale shoulder as it appeared. Dark fingers splayed over her belly, stroking the hollow of her navel before dipping between her thighs. She sighed and placed one dainty foot on the table, widening her legs in acceptance. One arm moved behind her to touch the King's shoulder, and she leaned into his body. Other hands swarmed over her, and she began to undulate.

Teeth unclenching, the Shadow Master pushed up against the hands roaming over his body. Forgotten was his irritation. Nancy smiled, lecherous and lustful, and Eddie's fingers played with the dark protrusion of her clitoris. Hands danced everywhere, pinching, prodding, stroking; they stole conscious thought with the ease of a master thief.

The cloak fell away from the Shadow Master's body, folding beneath him in a discarded heap. His body, outlined against the cushions of the divan in charcoal grey and black, moved with each touch of a hand, a finger. Three tongues danced up the shaft of his cock, pushing at the ring of its head before a warm tunneled mouth descended.

"Ahhh," he moaned, arching his hips. His hands clenched on the back of the couch. His arms tensed, shoulders pushed into the cushions. The mouth retreated, and the tongues played over his skin, snails of lust crawling, leaving trails of liquid to cool in the air. They played with him, leading him, coaxing him into an abandon he'd felt only with the woman he'd already claimed.

His cock jerked and spat, shooting a stream of semen from its dark tip. Nancy licked her lips, and Eddie grinned over her shoulder.

Princess Amelia stared at the look of extreme pleasure on Cedric's face. A twisting lance of desire clenched the muscles in her thighs. His last, exhaled moan stood between them, still sounding in her mind. The wet stickiness of his come smeared her face. She licked her lower lip curiously.

"You're going to drive me insane," Cedric whispered. His half-closed eyes were on her mouth.

She looked down, embarrassed now at his intent stare. His cock was already rising again, pushing up as if wishing for a look at the sky. The center of her belly tightened. Her sex felt empty, throbbing against the seam of her pants.

A cool breeze rattled the leaves, pushing at the heat between them. She stood, keeping her eyes on the semi-hard length of his cock. "I shouldn't..." she whispered, and pulled her shirt over her head, wiping the come from her face with the motion. The breeze cooled her breasts, brushed at the hardened tips like the gentle fingers of a lover. She shivered.

He sighed, and the shaft of his prick lengthened.

The buttons of her pants were already open, and she pushed the leather down over her hips. Stepping out, she kicked the trousers out of her way and risked a glance at Cedric's face. His eyes were wide open, dark with surprise and lust. "Definitely dreaming," he murmured.

She ducked her head and stopped her gaze on his cock. It pointed at the moon, glistening in the flickering light of the fire, minutely bobbing in time to his heartbeat. The leaves rustled again, and she stepped over his legs, straddling him and lowering herself in a single, fluid movement until she crouched over his thighs with his cock mere inches away from the hidden treasure of her sex. She shivered again and raised her eyes to his.

"Will it hurt?" she asked, a little girl asking for reassurance.

"A little." The intense expression in his eyes moved lower. "You're in control; you can stop whenever you like."

She nodded and moved to her knees, raising herself until the tip of his cock touched against the lower lips of her sex. Wide open, it seemed drawn to the firm pole, something inside stretching to find it. She wrapped her fingers around the straining prick between her thighs.

He moaned, and the sound caused a minor quake throughout her lower belly.

Slowly, she slid the tip through the curls until it rested against the portal of her sex. His cock was embedded within her flesh, and yet still she was a virgin. She pushed at the shaft, moving the head of his prick upward until it circled the small button of her clitoris; she spread her growing moisture within the curls.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. It sounded more like a gasp, as if he'd just kicked himself for asking.

"Who wants to be a virgin forever?" she murmured, and pushed the bulbous head toward the entrance again.

The rustling of leaves became louder, and a soft grunt sounded from above them. Cedric's prick jumped in her fingers, then slowly began to soften. She looked upward and screamed.
Demons pulled Amelia from Cedric's unconscious body. She had no chance to fight or think. They trussed her up like a prize pig and carried her through the forest. The lead devil, the largest and strongest, carried Cedric over its shoulder, seemingly without effort.

The Warding had disappeared, and they strode through the place where it had been without notice.

"Are you sure this one's a virgin?" asked the demon who carried her. Its clawed fingers traced the cleft of her buttocks. She squirmed, hitting her bound hands against its scaled back. It ignored her and continued its intimate touches.

"Slyne will determine that when we get her through the gate." The lead devil pushed through a clump of bushes.

She wanted to ask who Slyne was, but the gag in her mouth prevented her.

"And that's the Wizard Jarlath told us to watch for," her captor went on. His claws brushed the pouting lower lips of her sex.

"We'll have to get him in irons soon or he'll fry us for dinner when he wakes up."

"The nearest human is back at camp. He can handle the iron without a problem." More claws brushing against the tender skin of her sex. She beat at its back and tried to flip herself off its shoulder with her legs. It stopped long enough to adjust her firmly back on its shoulder, then strode after its partner. She stared down at the flexing scales of its buttocks and tried to think of a way out of this.

* * *

Camp consisted of a fire and three tents not more than a mile from where they'd abducted Amelia. A human man stared at her as the demon tossed her unceremoniously on the ground. "She's naked," he said in amazement. "You brought back a plaything?"

The lead demon tossed Cedric in similar fashion on the other side of the fire. "We think she's a virgin," he grunted, and pointed at Cedric. "This one's a Wizard. Put the irons on him, Tavist. It's the only way to keep him from using his magick."

Amelia shook her head, trying to win pity from the dark eyed human. It was worthless. Tavist entered one of the tents and returned with a set of iron handcuffs linked by a thick rusted chain. He fastened them around Cedric's wrists and tied a heavy rope to the chain. "Put him by that tree," he ordered, and the lead demon obeyed, careful to keep away from the iron. The rope was looped around a hanging limb and tied tightly out of reach.

Amelia stared at Cedric's pale face, noting the blood that had trickled down his forehead to dry over the side of his face. She swiveled her eyes, now able to see the demons in the full light of the fire. The one who'd carried Cedric backed away from the tree, setting itself up as a guard nearby. The thick length of its cock hung between green scaled thighs, swinging back and forth with each movement. Red eyes glanced at her, but seemed to have no real interest in looking at her. She sighed with relief.

The other devil sat on a log near the fire, its legs spread wide to reveal huge ball sacs hanging against the wood. Its prick stood at attention, fully extended like a club of greenish copper. The head had pushed from its foreskin, blackened and tight. Fluid dripped from the entire length, glistening in small threaded droplets to the ground.

Terrified, Amelia looked away. The human, Tavist, stood above her, rubbing the crotch of his trousers with his right hand. "This one's a looker," he said. "A virgin, you say?"

"We will take her to Slyne. She is to remain a virgin until then." The devil guarding Cedric spoke in a warning monotone.

"There are plenty of ways to play without taking her cherry." Beneath the human's hand a large bulge had formed. "Look at those tits!"

Tears began in the backs of her eyes. She raised her bound hands in a futile attempt to cover her breasts. A soft sob escaped around her gag. Cedric couldn't help her. He was right; she should have stayed at the palace.

Tavist kneeled beside her, brushing away the tears that fell from her eyes. "No need to cry, Sweetheart. Tavist will make sure you enjoy yourself." His smile was full of sharp teeth. He looked at the demon seated by the fire and gestured at its dripping cock. "Can I use some of that stuff?"

"No," the other demon interjected. "I won't take the chance that she'll impale herself on the first thing that will fit."

Tavist sighed and put a finger on the soft bud of her nipple. "We'll have to do without it, then."

Amelia closed her eyes and tried to ignore him. The ground pressed, hard and full of sharp lumps, against her back. She tried to turn to her side, but Tavist pushed her back.

"I know you're scared," he whispered against the skin of her breast. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

She turned her head to the side, away from him. A heated tongue licked her nipple. "I love your tits," he said, and engulfed the tip of one with his mouth.

She whimpered behind her gag, pleading in her mind for him to let her go.

Gentle fingers traced over her ribs, creating shivers of sensation that only increased her dread. The rough texture of unshaven skin rubbed against her tender flesh as he moved from one breast to the other. Callused fingers stroked her stomach, circling lower until they cupped her sex. She clamped her thighs together in an effort to keep him out.

Too frightened to feel desire, she shook her head back and forth on the ground, screaming at him to stop. The sound was muffled behind the gag. She tried again to turn, to curl in on herself, but the weight of his hands on her hips stopped her. She managed to bring her legs up, but that seemed to be a mistake as he reached behind her to fondle the lower lips of her sex. She slammed her legs down again, trying to catch his arm and hurt him.

He turned, holding her down by straddling her breasts with his hips, presenting her with the dirt-stained seat of his trousers. She cried out behind the gag. Raising her legs, she planted her feet in the dirt and tried to buck him off. The aperture between her thighs widened and his hands clamped on the insides of her legs just above the knees, forcing them down and apart while her feet remained bound.

Open now, she felt the heat of his breath ruffling the curls that guarded her sex. She struggled against his grip, but lost the battle as his tongue insinuated itself, coming to rest against her clitoris. The bundle of nerves responded, jumping in surprise at the direct contact.

His scent drifted to her nostrils, masculine musk. She turned her head away. The tongue flicked against her clitoris, and he ran it the entire length of her sex, pausing to enter her slightly before retreating back to the twitching bundle of nerves at the top. His lips surrounded her, and he used his teeth to scrap lightly through her crisp hair.

"Cedric," she whispered into the gag, and opened her eyes to find him. Still unconscious, he remained where they'd put him. But the sight that caught her attention was the demon seated on the log by the fire. It had one clawed hand pumping at its erection. Red eyes stared at her without blinking. Thin lips were drawn back over sharp teeth in an expression so obviously lustful that she responded by pushing against the questing mouth between her legs.

The crotch above her began to slide against her breasts.

She turned her head away from the demon's lust only to meet the sight of the other devil. Its cock stood rampant and gleaming with moisture. Huge, it seemed to dwarf the clawed hand that stroked it. Shutting her eyes, she refused to look any more.

The hands on her legs trailed down her thighs, and she realized she'd relaxed the muscles. It was futile to fight, futile to struggle against the inevitable. Tavist was full of lust and he wouldn't stop until he'd accomplished what he wanted. A picture of Cedric's lust surface in her mind. Deep forest green eyes, narrowed and watching her with an intensity that sent arrows of desire though her stomach.

The vision arched her hips upward. Fingers spread her sex wide; it was open now to the hot, wet, meandering tongue. Her hands were a ball against her belly, pressed there by Tavist's body. The hard bulge of his confined prick pushed against her right breast. She saw Cedric's cock in her mind, straining up into her mouth right before he came. The tongue slurped at her oozing sex, tasting and swirling without penetrating, spreading the moisture downward toward the puckered entrance of her anus. The unshaven chin rubbed agonizingly against her clitoris.

Desire flickered, but remained in a threading pulse of heat that centered in the empty entrance to her sex. Weight lifted from her chest, and the rock of Tavist's cock slid over her ribs. His tongue never left her as he moved, concentrating on her clitoris with a persistence that pushed her legs together, leaving only enough space for the intrusion of the tongue.

Faint rasping sounded, leather against leather, and the tongue darted without pressure. Hands at her legs pulled them apart, and a single finger slipped inside her far enough to stimulate. She moaned and saw the reddened head of Cedric's cock where the finger was now. Bare flesh pushed between her thighs, and the hand still on her leg pulled her knees upward. Her feet trailed over the kneeling man's calves, and the hand pushed her knees toward her belly until her thighs rested on his shoulders. Pinned, she couldn't move now if she tried.

The finger inside her pulled out, massaging lower until it circled the puckered skin of her anus. She stiffened, eyes opening wide. His dark head rose as she pushed against his shoulders with her legs, trying to sit up so she could reach him with her bound hands. He rose to his knees and leaned forward, trapping her like a butterfly beneath his weight. Her knees hit her stomach, and the firm shaft of his cock pushed against her sex. "If you fight me, I'll have to hurt you," he explained. His hips rocked against her, and his prick slid against her clitoris.

"Be careful." That was one of the demons, and she caught a gasp of lust in his tone. "You can't fuck her pussy."

"Trust me," Tavist answered, but she thought he was talking more to her than the demon.

She stopped struggling. Maybe he'd do this faster if she let him do it. Closing her eyes, she went limp, attempting to ignore the sliding cock between her thighs. Weight shifted, and she felt his thick fingers at her again, piercing her virginal entrance just far enough to avoid stretching her maidenhead. His cock became a distinct pressure against the nub of her clitoris, circling, rubbing it until she realized his other hand had control of it.

"Lean back so I can see," one demon complained.

Shifting weight, and the intruding finger slid to her anus again. She tensed. "Relax and push against my finger," Tavist instructed gently. Wet with her juices, the finger slid past the muscular entrance with no pain, just discomfort. Slowly, it circled, massaging the ring of muscle while the head of a cock massaged her clitoris.

Relaxing, she let her hips rest on the ground. Cedric's face went through her mind again, wide eyed with amazement and lust. If Cedric had done this she would have allowed it without question.

The cock moved down, pushing just the head inside her, and she could feel the pressure of the finger separated only by a thin layer of skin. The demon's exclamation of warning cut short as the head popped out again. It slid between her cheeks as the pressure of Tavist's shoulders raised her buttocks off the ground. The finger pulled from her anus and moved to her clitoris. It circled lightly, quick and dexterous against the excited bundle of nerves.

"Your pussy's red and wet," Tavist murmured, and his cock pressed against her anus. "Your nipples are hard red buttons." His finger slipped and slid on her clit. "Relax, push against me."

Her body tensed, closing to the upwelling of sensation. She shut her eyes tighter and, again, a vision of Cedric pushed her into desire. The tunnel of her sex opened, and her anus relaxed. Pain blossomed as the larger head of his cock popped inside. His moan of pleasure mingled with her cry of pain, but the finger on her clit quickened and the pain diminished.

"I want to feel you come around my cock." He pushed fully inside, and she felt the tickle of his pubic hair against the backs of her thighs. Slowly, he withdrew until the head of his cock was all that remained inside. Just as slowly, he pushed inward again. Repeating the motion, he never changed his pace.

And still he massaged her clitoris into a jumbled tangle of lust. Her legs tightened around his neck, pulling her backside up until the angle of penetration lined up perfectly. She clenched around his sliding prick. The empty sheath of her sex clutched at nothing. Her clitoris twitched beneath his circling fingers.

"Touch yourself," he whispered, using his free hand to grasp her bindings.

Allowing her hands to be led, she inserted two fingers into the crease of her sex. His retreated, and she felt the hard clamp of his hands on her hips. His cock seated itself firmly inside her anus, and she circled her clit with trembling fingers.

"Tell me when you're going to come."

She nodded, and tears seeped from her eyes. The humiliation of her situation, that she could enjoy this rape, made her weep. No, it wasn't enjoyment, it wasn't pleasure at all. Her body would respond, but her mind never would. She would come so he would stop. That's all.

But the sensation died as she thought this. It died to mere tremblings, and her fingers massaged a piece of meat. The pressure of the cock invading her began to hurt. Her tears came faster, and a sob sneaked out beneath the gag.

"If you don't come, I'll start all over again," Tavist said, reaching up to wipe her tears from her cheeks. "I'll wait for a few days if I have to. I want to see you come."

No, she thought, she would end this quickly. Slowing her fingers, she thought of Cedric. He'd lain behind her, holding her tight as his hand snaked into her pants. She imagined he succeeded, and her fingers were his. She imagined he'd buried his stiff prick into her ass and had his fingers twirling on her clit. He would be gentle, like this. He would touch her like this. His body would press against hers and...

It was working. Tendrils of desire pulled her taut again. The cock in her ass began to pump faster, and she heard the soft gasps of the man above her. Concentrating on Cedric's lust for her, she writhed in slow circles. Her fingers danced.

Flesh slapped against flesh, and she felt the bounce of his balls against her thighs. He intruded, pushed, gyrated inside her. Her sex clutched at nothing, and her clitoris went numb with oncoming sensation.

"Now!" she cried behind the gag, and spasmed.

The cock paused, buried deep inside her anus. He groaned, wrenching her hips with his hands, holding her locked against him. As the spasms eased, he gripped her with iron fingers and pulled out almost the entire length of his cock. She shuddered and convulsed again.

The next motion rammed his prick up her anus with enough force to move her body back a foot. He followed and repeated the motion until she put her hands over her head to stop herself from hitting against a rock.

"Fuck that lily white ass!" The demon's voice carried loud and clear. Amelia opened her eyes. The two were seated next to each other across the clearing, each stroking the other's huge prick. As she watched, one of them shot huge wads of glowing come out over the ground. Its roar of lust echoed through the clearing.

"Tight, hot..." Tavist hissed, then he slammed into her one last time and groaned.

Warm jets of sperm bathed the tunnel of her anus. He twitched, jerking against her with each spasm.

The last demon came with a shout, spurting glowing seed at the ground like a fountain.

* * *

Cedric cracked open his eyes, wincing at the sunlight and the throbbing pain in his head. The small clearing blurred into focus between his slitted eyelids. A demon sat next to a fire, feeding a large log into the flames.

Cedric's stomach tightened and he realized his hands were bound and raised above his head. Allowing his sight to drift slowly over his surroundings, he spotted Amelia. Bound hand and foot, she rested against a small boulder near the fire. She was naked, and gagged.

The last thing Cedric remembered was the sight of Amelia's golden haired sex descending toward his tumescent cock.

The Warding had failed due to his immersion in the delight her actions had produced. He wanted to scream, but kept himself still and silent. Iron bound his wrists, obviously, because he felt blind and dumb with the lack of his powers. Only his wit could get him out of this, so he had to keep panic at bay.
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