by Reed James
~ * ~
Zizthithana, Istandar of Hizzithya
I hissed in frustration as I fled Sven Falk. The blind, blond human kept fighting. His muscular, yet sleek, body flowing with such skill and grace. He moved his sword like it belonged to his body, just another appendage that he could wield.
If he could see...
I charged at his women, at the slumbering Princess Ava. The naked serving girls screeched. The busty one ducked my scimitar blow, rolling away from the unconscious princess, her strawberry-blonde hair spilling over the cobblestone.
“Master!” screeched the petite serving girl, her pigtails flying about her face as she dove away from my scimitar, moving with some grace and skill.
They had training. But only in fleeing.
“She's going for the princess!” the busty one shouted as my coiled body wrapped about Princess Ava.
“No!” snarled Sven, the fear palpable in his voice. I could taste it on the air.
He cared for Ava. That made him weak.
I entwined my scales about her form. I shivered at the feel of her small breasts rising and falling against my body. My instincts screamed at me to squeeze. To crush the life from her, to feel her bones pop. A sexual shudder washed through me, my pussy growing so hot as I turned to face Sven.
His sword slashed at me.
I parried.
“Master!” Nathalie gasped.
~ * ~
Sven Falk
I drew back my sword and swung again at the naga, her scales rasping right before me. Nathalie shouted to my right, fear thick in her voice. It flowed through my body, making me tremble, wracking about my guts.
“I have your princess, Sven,” Zizthithana hissed. “My coils are wrapped around her. One squeeze...”
The reptilian coldness of her words struck me. My lungs grew tight. I felt like that ogre rampaging through the boarding house had seized me, his fist crushing my chest. My heart labored as I heard those scales rasping against silky skin.
“She does, Master,” Greta called. “Please, please, don't hurt her, snake!”
“I thought you were Prince Meinard's ally,” I said, holding my sword pointed low before me.
“I'm not his daughter's ally,” she purred. “Besides, alliances are temporary. They are fleeting. For a time, our goals aligned, but now they drift apart. Stay your blade, or you'll hear all her pretty bones snap. She'll scream then die choking. It's quite... excruciating.”
“No, no, no,” Greta sobbed. “Please, please, don't hurt her.”
The image blazed in my mind. With sight stolen from me, my fears conjured a sight that felt so real. Princess Ava wrapped up in the purple scales, those bronze diamonds flashing as the naga squeezed. My betrothed's face twisted in agony as her body compressed. Her face grew red as she shook, joints popped, ribs creaked.
I couldn't see well enough to know exactly where Ava was in relation to the naga. If I swung and Zizthithana parried, she might slap my blade into Ava's flesh. If I didn't strike the naga—if I didn't land a blow that would kill the naga—she would squeeze.
Crush.
How long would it take for Ava to die. How long could my princess survive the crushing pressure of the naga's embrace. All the exhilaration I felt evaporated from my blood. No more excitement remained. Only the fear. The poisonous dread that stole through my body, numbing me, making me shake.
“Las's putrid cum,” I growled, lowering my short sword.
“Yes, yes, you understand,” the naga said, her voice hissing with such sibilant delight. “You don't want her to die.”
“No.” The words felt ripped from me. What could I do without sight? I didn't have a chance now.
“Drop your blade,” she purred.
I tossed it down before me, clattering on the pavement.
“Back up,” she hissed.
I took a step back.
“More, Sven.” Her scales rasped against smooth skin.
My stomach twisted, swirled. Acids boiled inside of me. That sick writhe threatened to empty my dinner upon the paving stones. I took another step back. A second. A third. A fourth. I held my hands out to the side, fingers spread, open.
“Okay,” I growled. “let her go.”
Metal slid against stone. Then something sailed through the air. Not at me. It clanged down the street, bouncing. My sword... She'd thrown my weapon far away, denying me the chance of charging for it.
“Now don't move,” she hissed, slithering towards me. “I can still kill her.”
Nathalie whimpered. Greta groaned. The sounds came from each other. They were close. “The moment she frees Ava,” I said, keeping my voice strong, in charge, “grab her and flee.”
“Yes, yes, you wouldn't want me to harm her after I'm done with you,” Zizthithana hissed. She sounded only feet away.
Scales rasped against flesh. My body shook, tensed. The ogre fist about my torso squeezed tighter. But I didn't hear the sounds of snapping bones. Greta let out a relieved moan as the naga circled me. I felt her body stirring the air surrounding me while that dry, serpentine smell filled my nose. Her scales brushed my calves as she wound around my body.
Bare feet slapped on the cobblestone. My sex slaves reached Ava. They retreated, groaning and grunting as they dragged away my princess. I let out a relieved breath then shuddered as the serpentine coils tightened around me. I pulled my right arm free, my left pinned to my body as her scales covered me. Her breasts pressed into my face.
“Ooh, yes, you are all mine to play with, Sven,” hissed Zizthithana. “And what fun we shall have.”
Her muscular coils clenched about my body.
Chapter Forty-Nine: The Ogre's Prowess
Kora Falk
My stomach tightened as Ava crashed into the hallway wall. I knew that wasn't her real body, and yet seeing the feyhound form struggling to gain its feet, the front, left leg snapped and half-hanging from splintered twigs, tore at my heart. Ava limped forward down the hallway. Though her proxy was battered, she was still fighting.
My fingers shoved into my pussy, coating them with more of my juices. It was hard to keep my cream flowing, but I needed it to power my illusions. I thrust my arm before me, focusing on the ogre, and moved my fingers. I created another Zanyia, crouching low and hissing. Then she sprang around the brute.
His fists swung at it. I puppeteered my illusion low, the blow crashing over it. The real Zanyia hissed and jumped onto the ogre's back. She scratched at the leathery back. The monster howled and threw himself towards the battered wall. The lamia sprang out of the way moments before the ogre crashed through plaster and wood. Debris flew through the air, fuzzing my illusions as splinters rained around the brute.
Where was Sven?
My stomach twisted, blood screaming through my body. I shook as the dust washed down the hallway. I had to keep focused on the illusion. I had to keep them moving. But... How much longer could we keep battling this brute? We weren't hurting it.
“TRICK!” bellowed the ogre, the entire inn shaking.
“Brother,” I whispered.
~ * ~
Ealaín
My war ax slashed and hissed before me, clanging against Antrevia's slenderer sword. The midnight-black woman fell back. The building shook around us. The ogre bellowed from the other end of the boarding house. Footing grew treacherous as the floor lurched from the monster crashing through walls.
I couldn't dwell on what the ogre was doing. I had to focus on the tip of the sword slashing at my body. It blurred in mirrored silver across my vision. It darted for my flesh, wanting to bleed me. To kill me. Antrevia's dark eyes gleamed with bloodlust.
“You are just so interesting,” Antrevia purred.
I didn't care about what she was babbling about. I didn't care that we had the same skin tone. She wasn't an aoi si. She wasn't a hermaphroditic demigoddess, but some sort of human with exotic coloring. I slashed hard at her, my ax hissing through the air.
My weapon struck
her sword. Hard.
The impact threw her sword to the side. It struck the wall, furrowing into the plaster and making a chunking sound as it hit the wood beneath. Antrevia's eyes widened as she jerked, but her weapon was bound in the wall's thick frame.
I slashed up at her, war ax streaking for her flesh.
Antrevia released the grip of her sword and threw herself backward. She tumbled with athletic grace. She contorted her body, doing a handspring to launch herself farther down the hallway. She landed in a crouch, a smile crossing her lips.
I charged after.
She sprang to the left, darting down the ruined stairs the ogre had crashed up. My bare feet smacked on the ground, breasts heaving before me. I wouldn't let the bitch get away. Not when I had her disarmed. I just had to close in on her, hack her down, then go help fight the ogre.
I reached the stairs, steps crushed by the ogre's weight, the walls cracked and dented by his bulk. Pieces of plaster spilled over the runners. The handler landed in a crouch on the middle landing and sprang to the left at the stair's bend. I leaped after her, sailing over the ruins on the stairs and landing in her wake with a heavy grunt, my tits smacking together.
“Yes, yes, you are something interesting. But are you what I am?” Antrevia asked as she crouched in the ruined common area of the boarding house.
I charged after, bellowing loudly.
Her body flowed. The dark leathers she wore ripped off of her body as she grew waxy and bloated. Her limbs grew narrow, hands melting into almost spear-like points, her boots falling off her feet turning into the same daggers. Two more sets of limbs sprouted from her sides as I hurtled towards her. She grew bigger. The sclera of her eyes fractured into segments. They became faceted like those of a bug, growing dark and shiny. Her mouth twisted into pincers and...
“Werespider!” I gasped in shock. I had only heard rumors of the race existing, dwelling in those far-eastern lands long lost to knowledge because of the Biomancer Vebrin's monsters that had spawned all throughout the Vilianth Ocean, cutting off any trade.
“You know what I am,” the thing said, its words distorted. She had the bloated form of a spider, spindly, red hairs thrusting from her black skin. From her abdomen, something twitched. “But we're not the same, are we?”
“No!” I snarled and swung my ax at the disgusting thing. “I am birthed of beauty, not of the God Las's spilled seed spurting onto a nest of spiders. I am not an abomination!”
She hissed and blocked my ax with her leg, the blade sparking off the chitinous limb. She stabbed it at me. I jumped back, landing past the stairs, stumbling on the broken leg of a chair. The ogre had wrecked the first floor, furniture splintered, a massive hole battered through the wall.
She followed, scurrying on her eight legs after me. A primeval fear swelled in me. I grit my teeth against the terror and bellowed, “Rithi's inspired art!”
My war ax swung before me. She blocked it with a slicing leg and rose. Something twitched on her abdomen. I frowned and then gasped as something white and sticky fired out of her... spinnerets. Her webbing hit me.
~ * ~
Zanyia
Ava's broken body lumbered forward as I crouched on the ground. My claws had done nothing against that dumb ogre. It picked itself up from the ruins of the room it slammed into. Parts of the ceiling crashed down on it, spilling white dust across its sallow hide. It rose into a crouch, grasping its dick, stroking it.
“YOU TRICK!” he growled, staring at Kora down the hallway.
My stomach tightened. I darted in again, not going for an attack this time. My claws couldn't hurt it, but I had other ways to distract it. I turned around, my tail thrust up high, and wiggled my ass at him, my pussy on display between my thighs.
“Real hot pussy right here, Gor!” I hissed. I reached behind me and shoved two fingers into my snatch. I pumped in and out of me, my hot sheath clenching about my digits.
I pulled my fingers out and flicked juices at him. His gaze snapped to me. He bellowed. I grinned and sprang forward, the ultimate cocktease. My feet left the ground and—
I yowled in shock. A thick fist seized my tail and yanked back, halting my jump. I hit the floor in a crouch, my ears twitching. The ogre had me. His hand yanked me back. My claws dug into the wood of the floor, furrowing scratches, curls of wood spilling around my fingers.
“PUSSY!” snarled the ogre and—
His huge cock slammed into my pussy. That brutal, thick shaft was larger than anything I had ever taken in my cunt. My flesh stretched its limits. Pleasure turned into pain which turned into ecstasy. My back straightened, my small breasts jiggling before me. The ogre's other hand seized my torso, holding me, rubbing my nipples as he squeezed me.
He drew back his thick cock and rammed into me, a pair of heavy balls smacking into my clit. My eyes bulged. My ears twitched with the violence as I yowled. His cock hurt my pussy. It felt incredible. In Zizthithana's kennels, her handlers trained me to enjoy pain. To drink it in. The difference between ecstasy and agony was as thin as the edge of a knife.
It was incredible to feel both.
Pleasure rushed through me as the fat dick bludgeoned into my pussy. A purr rose in my throat as the ogre pounded me so hard. His rough fingers, as thick as my arm, rubbed on my nipples, stimulating them as he fucked me. I felt like a toy being used to satiate his lusts. My body responded.
Stars burst across my vision. I heard Kora shout my name in shock. But I was distracting him. My pussy was keeping him focused all on me. I wiggled my hips, stirring my cunt around his massive cock, drinking in the agony and the ecstasy.
“So good, Gor!” I moaned. “Fuck my pussy! Naga's dried cunt, yes!”
“PUSSY!” he rumbled, his voice shaking my entire body. “SUCH HOT PUSSY!”
“Yes, yes, hot pussy!” I moaned.
“Oh, Gods, Zanyia!” Kora shouted. The illusions of myself scampered around me, wiggling their hips, spreading open their pussies. It was so strange seeing myself and my cute pussy, my pink on display, over and over. I looked so inviting.
But Gor had the real thing. And he wouldn't be denied. He pounded me so hard, ramming that dick into me. I could take it. I could enjoy it. I did enjoy it. My body drank in every thrust of his huge cock. He took me to my limits, stretched my snatch to the point of delicious pain. My tail swished, rubbing against his swarthy hide.
My fingernails dug into the wood floor. I scratched and clawed it as waves of darkness washed across my vision. His hard thrusts built and built my orgasm in me. It swelled in the core of my cunt so fast, my pussy juices flowing down my thighs.
“Fuck my cunt!” I moaned. “Ooh, yes, just keep fucking it! My Master's going to kill you! Just keep being distracted, Gor! Keep loving my pussy!”
“PUSSY!” he growled, focused on it.
“Oh, Gods, are you okay, Zanyia?” Kora asked.
“I'm perfect, Mistress!” I moaned.
Ava reached us. She leaped at him, snarling. She struck the ogre's body as he pounded me. She gripped his arm, clawing up to get to his head. I struggled to focus on her, but the painful rapture of his cock ramming into my depths drowned my mind in wondrous sensations.
The ogre let go of my torso. For a moment, I could scamper off his dick. I didn't want to, though. I wanted to keep distracting him. I slammed my pussy down his cock as he thrust at me. My flesh smacked into his, my entire body shaking.
Wood cracked. Ava howled. Her body flew off the ogre.
“PUSSY!” howled the ogre.
~ * ~
Princess Ava
I screamed as the ogre's punch shattered my body. I tumbled through the air in a spray of broken wicker, the pieces of my proxy dancing around me. I hit the hallway wall, bounced. I tumbled, the feyhound's form barely held together. I could feel so much damage to it.
I groaned as I rolled to a stop. I couldn't feel half of the body. I could hardly move any of it. Why was I still in it? My soul should have been thrown out of this ve
ssel. I shouldn't still be in it. When my rose quartz proxy was destroyed, my soul crashed back into my real body and almost overwhelmed my senses.
What was different about the feyhound?
I shuddered, struggling to move something as I lay on the ground watching Zanyia getting fucked hard by the ogre. Her small body looked so fragile as she crouched before the hulk, his cock spearing into her tiny body.
How could she moan in pleasure? How could she take that cock? I had to protect her. I had to keep her from harm. If the ogre came in her, put a baby in her body, she'd die birthing the monstrous offspring.
I twitched, moving my head. I had to get up. I had to do...
I felt something pulse inside of the feyhound, deep in its body. Something different. An energy that touched it. It still linked its body together. Even broken, this power kept the feyhound feeling like one entity. Could I use that? Could my soul touch it, manipulate it to gain more control over the cracked and snapped proxy?
I touched it and gasped in shock.
Chapter Fifty: Bound Seduction
Sven Falk
The naga's body squeezed about my body, pinning my left arm tight to my side. Her scales rubbed across my naked flesh as she hissed in delight. My right hand slid along her body, searching for something to grab, to use against her. It was the only part of me I could move. My blind head cast around as the pain swelled. Through my groans, I heard my slaves dragging Ava's unconscious body away, getting her to safety.
The naga tightened her coils. I groaned, my ribs creaking. Her lower, serpentine half squeezed hard, muscles flexing beneath it. I grit through the discomfort. My hand slid over the transition of her scales to her human skin, touching her swarthy flesh and...
Her breasts. Words Zanyia often hissed, talking about the various races born of Las's lust shot through me. Those creatures—nagas, lamias, ogres, faeries, and more—had high sex drives. They could be overcome by sex.
I squeezed the naga's large breast. My fingers found her nipple as I squirmed. I pinched her nipple. The naga hissed. Her body rippled around me. The shadows melted from my eyes, my vision restored. Her tits were right above my head. Her slitted, golden eyes stared down at me, a reptilian hunger burgeoning in them.