Possessing Allura (12 page)

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Authors: Reese Gabriel

Tags: #chimera, #erotic, #ebook, #historical, #fantasy, #fiction, #domination, #submission, #damsel in distress, #corporal punishment, #spanking, #BDSM, #S&M, #bondage

BOOK: Possessing Allura
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‘Where is my brain,' Allura wondered, ‘now that you're in my head?'

The crow pecked at the back of her eyeball to make a hole to see through. ‘It was fed to all your victims. That's the way it works.'

‘Take your horse dick like a good girl,' her own self ordered, and the words sent Allura to a new place, under a table at a state dinner. She was wearing a collar and there was an artificial tail thrust into her ass. Every time she moved – she was on all fours – the tail made her come because it was connected to another in her pussy. Using her nose she smelled for her master, the baron, and putting her head against his boot, she whimpered.

The baron shook her off. ‘Make yourself useful, slut.'

Allura crawled from man to man, offering her services to suck them dry. The conversation continued as they mouth-fucked her one by one. They were talking about the kingdom and how to divide it up now that she was no longer a princess but only a pretty little bitch-slut. Her cheeks reddened with shame but she was very horny, too. She wanted the baron to fuck her. She would beg him later, but first she must service all his guests.

For some reason the last man was filled with an enormous amount of spunk, and as much as she kept swallowing there was more. If she didn't swallow that would be enough reason for her to be put to death, so she really didn't wish to fail. But she was going to explode if she didn't stop.

‘I disagree,' the man said, reaching down to clamp her nose so she couldn't breathe. ‘Leniency on the peasants only breeds indolence. One must rule with iron not silk.'

Semen filled her belly. Semen filled her throat. Semen to drink, and coming out of her pussy. She tried to stem the flow with her hands, but it began to flood the room.

‘Disobedient cunt,' called the baron, but soon they were all overcome by the swirling tide. The man gasped and choked as it went above their heads. She alone could breathe. It was like being under the sea and she felt such freedom and joy. A fish swam by and then another, colored ones with brilliant flashing lights like the jewels of her father's scepter.

She was floating, at last in her element, splendidly free and naked. Putting her hands between the legs she laughed, the bubbles reflecting her joy. There was a push, a spasm, and then the form came out of her womb – a new kind of life, not entirely fish or human, but something in between.

‘You will be a mother,' it told her, ‘to the world. But you will not be queen.'

Allura tried to enquire of her talking pink embryo but it was evolving before her eyes, sprouting wings and growing muscles and flesh, the sexual organs of the male and female both, and a brain stem twice as powerful as the old kind.

Kindly it reached forth and touched with its webbed hand, slender fingered. ‘Thank you,' it said, its voice so melodiously sweet it made her want to cry.

‘No,' it shook its head, ‘no questions.'

A hand slid over Allura's eyes and she was gone from the sea of sperm, gone too from the brimstone world of demons. On her back, instead, she opened her eyes to a normal blue sky, like that of any day in the kingdom.

‘I love you,' said Saraveeta, who was above her in the grass, stroking her cheek.

‘I love you, too,' Allura heard herself say.

They were lying in the deep green grass and Allura's lips were full and puffy from being kissed. Her chest was heaving and one of her breasts had been pulled from the skimpy protection of her peasant dress. The wet nipple tingled under a light breeze.

‘Why did you stop?' she asked softly, wanting the other girl's lips caressing her once more.

‘Because I wanted to stop,' said Saraveeta. Allura's old friend climbed astride her and pinned her hands over her head. She wasn't wearing a peasant dress but breeches, boots and a man's peasant shirt.

‘Are you…?'

‘A man?' Saraveeta finished her thought. ‘What do you think?'

She didn't seem like a man. She was lovely, her long dark hair sweeping her shoulders, her feminine chest rising with delicious arousal.

‘I think,' Allura reasoned, ‘that we are lovers.'

Saraveeta, ever so much more confident, lovely and powerful without her yoke of servitude, eased her knee between Allura's thighs, making her spread. ‘Wrong, Lurie. You're my little slut, nothing more.'

‘L-Lurie?' gasped Allura. ‘No one has called me that in years.'

Saraveeta ripped the front of the girl's dress to expose her other breast. ‘It would make a good slave name for you, don't you think?'

Allura tried to free herself, unsuccessfully.

Saraveeta, who had gotten much stronger all of a sudden, laughed at the princess' anguish. ‘I'm only joking,' she said, though she made no move to release her friend from her current state of bondage.

‘It's not funny,' said Allura. ‘I want to go home.'

‘Give me a good reason.' Saraveeta took the fresh breast in her mouth, sucking the nipple to an agonizing point.

Allura moaned. ‘B-because I'm asking you.'

Saraveeta licked her lips devilishly. ‘Oh no, Lurie, you have to beg.'

‘P-please, Saraveeta, let me go?'

‘You have to satisfy me first. As a slut.'

‘Yes,' she moaned, her helpless heat weighing on her heavily. ‘I will be your slut.'

‘You must satisfy my horse's cock, my sweet.'

Allura trembled. ‘Yes, Saraveeta…'

‘Beg for it,' she pressed, biting the girl's nipple.

Allura cried out, ‘Please use me, Saraveeta. Fuck me hard.'

‘I intend to,' replied Saraveeta, mounting her.

The cock was rigid and cold. Allura pictured the silver piercing her; like a sword, like a spear, like the weapon that killed her father. Saraveeta fell into a rhythm, like the beating of hooves and Allura saw him, at the head of his army, refusing the protection of his own bodyguards, riding to certain death.

But why?

Fate, whispered the wind. Fate, repeated the thrust of the cock. The pinned Allura began to spasm, coming all over the dildo. What was Saraveeta's pleasure in this? And why hadn't her father kept his life when so much depended on it?

It had to do with the bloodlines, and a break that must come in order for the kingdom to grow in the future. This much she realized as the dream spilled over into a shadowy night.

Take this, Baron Montreico, she reveled in her female climax; take this and learn your real place in the world.

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

‘Mistress, are you awake?'

Allura opened her eyes. Veeta stood over her, her hair shiny, her eyes and cheeks aglow. She'd even been given a tiny sprig of flowers for her hair.

‘Of course I'm not fine,' she snapped. ‘I'm being held prisoner by a beast. And why are you looking so cheerful?'

‘It is your wedding day, my mistress,' she beamed. ‘Why would I not be cheerful?'

Allura sat up. ‘Who gave you those clothes?'

‘It is the baron's orders. And I am to help prepare you.'

The slave Veeta was wearing a diaphanous gown of light blue, low-cut, revealing her cleavage. Someone had done her hair, as well.

‘What is the meaning of this?' Allura demanded of the gold collar around the girl's throat.

‘All of the baron's slaves are so collared.' She touched it lightly, as though it were something to be proud of. ‘Is it not beautiful, mistress?'

‘Has everyone gone mad?' demanded Allura. ‘Take that stupid dress off at once. Take it all off!'

Veeta stepped back, a distressed look on her face. ‘Mistress, forgive me, but I am under the baron's orders.'

‘The baron? The baron?' Allura flew at her, grabbing her by the shoulders. ‘Does the whole world revolve around this petty noble? I am crown princess. Do you know what that means?'

Veeta had no chance to defend herself before Allura ripped off her gown and tore at her hair. The girl was crying, begging, but the princess was beside herself with rage. ‘The collar,' she screamed, trying to pull the welded gold circle from her neck. ‘Take off that collar.'

‘Mistress, it is forged on me!'

It was Rodolfo who pulled the princess off her. ‘Princess, have you gone insane?'

‘Unhand me, you cretin!'

He held her by the waist, her entire body lifted off the floor. She was twisting and arching her back, wanting a chance to claw him, and neither had intended for them to end up facing each other, her full breasts against his tunic. Nor had they intended for the full and lustful contact of their lips. The naked princess melted at once, all her earlier fury converting into an overwhelming desire to submit.

‘No, princess.' He tried in vain to disengage himself, but Allura's legs wrapped around his waist.

‘Take me out of here,' she breathed hotly into his ear, ‘and I will marry you and make you the prince.'

Rodolfo hesitated for a moment, and sighing deeply he seemed ready to yield – or rather, to be plucked.

‘I'm a virgin…' she purred, pressing her crotch against him, offering added incentive.

‘No, I cannot.' He pushed her away and tossed her back on the bed.

Defeated and betrayed yet again, Allura turned on the slave. ‘You must kill her,' she pointed to the kneeling girl. ‘The little bitch has seen our crime.'

Rodolfo dutifully drew his sword, putting it to the throat of the slave.

‘Master, please,' Veeta begged softly, her neck angled back most deliciously. ‘Take me first; the slave begs to please the man who will kill her.'

‘Don't listen to her,' Allura warned. ‘It's a trick.'

Rodolfo's forehead beaded with sweat. He looked to the door, to the window and back to the door as though someone might burst in on them at any minute. ‘Do it, slut,' he growled at last, pawing at his clothing. ‘But be quick about it.'

‘Master,' moaned the slave girl, sitting back on her heels.

‘You fool!' cried Allura. ‘You waste yourself on a filthy slut when I offer you the nectar of the future queen?'

‘I need time to think, princess, you must understand. What you ask me to do, it is the worst treason imaginable.'

‘Well you haven't any time. The wedding happens today, you idiot!'

Rodolfo grunted, pushing himself to the back of Veeta's mouth. He came immediately, and she drank him down all too happily.

‘Look at me,' he demanded when she had finished licking his penis. He put the sword under her chin, drawing a drop of blood at the point. ‘If you ever breathe a word of this I will see to it you suffer the most brutal, agonizing death possible. On this you have my word as a huntsman.'

‘Yes, master,' whispered the slave, her lips slick with saliva. Rodolfo frowned, but returned the sword to its scabbard, and at once the girl fell to her belly and kissed his feet.

‘I must go,' said Rodolfo.

‘Good riddance,' the princess hissed, and Veeta remained prostrate as the door closed. Allura despised her all the more for her easy subservience, and a wave of sadistic desire overcame her as she told the girl what they would say to the baron about her dress.

‘You will tell him you tried to escape, but I stopped you. You will ask him to torture you severely as punishment.'

‘Yes, mistress.'

‘Come here so I can give you the appropriate bruises to fit our little story.'

‘Yes, mistress.'

‘Did I say you could get up first?' She stopped the girl from rising to her knees.

‘No, mistress.'

Allura watched her crawling on her front, and just had to slip her hand between her own thighs. ‘Go around the room a few times like that, I want to masturbate watching you.'

‘Yes, mistress.'

‘Who owns you, Veeta?'

‘You do, mistress.' She sounded broken, contrite.

‘Who will own you always?'

‘You, mistress.'

‘Good girl. Now come here and we will discuss how I intend to have you kill the baron.'

 

The wedding ceremony was to be held in the castle's small chapel. The windows were made of colored glass, the designs depicting the story of creation and the exploits of the various gods and goddesses. The seats were of heavy cedar, imported from the great valley of the south. An altar occupied the front, directly beneath a huge mosaic showing the making of the earth from the hand of the sky god, Zuranos, its original form being that of a seed laid upon the fertile womb of the cosmic mother, Hechira.

The priest was the chaplain of the baron's house, as well as the keeper of the shrines in the villages under the baron's tutelage. He was a gaunt, white-bearded man with sunken cheeks and hollowed pockets for eyes. Life seemed to have gone on too long for him and become too tedious.

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