We swim through halls that glow with phosphorescent kelp. On our way to the throne room, we pass through an atrium thick with shadows. Here, we are attacked by a lingering group of Vanessa’s soldiers. Arrows fly and zip through the air. I catch one soldier in the tail and she crumbles to the sand before more arrows assail her.
A shout of pain sounds to my left and I turn in time to see Jamie go down. He’s taken an arrow in the stomach, just above where his tail begins. I can’t see how far in its gone from my vantage point, but I only hope its missed his intestines and kidney. He could bleed out and die before we can get him to the battalion’s medic. I’m terrified, but in order to help save him I must fight on.
I load another arrow just as I see Markus and a few other men go to Jamie. But I can’t keep watching or I’ll take a hit myself. So I focus forward and let another bolt fly. We fight hard and fierce and soon we’ve taken out the small group of soldiers.
Once the way is clear, I run over to where a band of our fighters are clustered around Jamie. Markus is with them, and he turns sad sea foam eyes on me as I break through the group.
“How is he?” I whisper.
“He’s lost a lot of blood, but he only took the one arrow. It went very deep. We have to get him back to the battalion medic now.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jamie spits out. “Get into the throne room and seize Vanessa while there’s still time.”
“You are important to us,” I tell him, kneeling down beside my fallen lover. “No one is disposable, remember?”
He nods as I say the oath of our royal house. A weak smile tugs at his lips. “Fine, George and Timmin can take me back to the medic. The rest of you get in that throne room.”
Markus and I nod as we stand. I know we’d both like to go with him, but we understand our duty and what we must do. It’s not about our wants right now. We watch Jamie stumble out of the hallway, one arm around George’s shoulders as Timmin keeps the watch for any straggling enemy soldiers.
The throne room is a massive purple room that seethes with blue, pulsing kelp. The throne itself is made from gold salvaged from sunken ships, and a petrified octopus graces the top. Its eyeless body leers down at us, but Queen Vanessa is nowhere to be seen. We fight off another dozen of her soldiers and then stand in the ruins of the empty, cavernous space.
My ears ring from the weight of the silence and I listen to my heartbeat. Then an eerie white-blue glow fills the space to the left of the throne and a small waif floats into the room. She looks no more than twenty-two years old, but Markus and Jamie have told me her magics conceal her ancient age. The queen is rumored to be well over two hundred years old. But it’s also said she’s almost exhausted her magics by overextending her youth and lifespan. Rumor has it her very lifeforce teeters on the cusp of collapse. I can only hope, for the sake of all of us, the rumors are right.
Her glowing blue eyes pin me and she flicks her pearly pinkish white tail before she swims closer. The men train arrows on her and let them fly, but they bounce off a glowing barrier she has cast about herself. She sails through the water, headed directly for me.
“You are his granddaughter,” she says in a velvety voice as she circles me.
I betray no emotion as I reply, “Who?”
“The one who opposes me. Denies me what I want. The one who took my son from me.”
Her face hovers inches from mine as I issue the command, “Drain her.”
She reels back, frowning in surprise as I and my troops focus our combined magic on her and lower our arrows. To fight one as old and powerful as she we must use more than physical weapons. We focus on a spell that we decided would be a part of our attack plan. A spell designed to drain the last of Queen Vanessa’s energy and leave her without magic.
Our combined magic rises with our chant and forms into a gleaming blue-white ball. This ball shoots out and chases after the fleeing Vanessa. She turns and hisses at it, preparing for attack, but it is too fast and she is too weakened. It hits her dead center in the chest, knocking her to the floor. The ball worms its way inside her body and she jitters where she falls. She goes into a deep sleep and lays still.
I command other soldiers to shackle our prisoner and take her to the main battalion camp. We will treat her well and negotiate with her, as planned. War is hard enough, and it is a merperson’s way to shed as little blood as possible. We’ve already shed enough blood today.
We celebrate our victory with solemn silence, all of us concerned for our wounded leader, Jamie, also waiting back at camp for us.
***
Three months later
I returned to the surface long enough to sell my boat, tell my mother Grandpa was well, and that I was leaving. It took a while to explain everything to her and for her to process the strange tale, but with teary eyes, and after a tight hug goodbye, she wished me well in my new life.
Jamie, Markus, and I are to be married in one week. After a lengthy time spent healing, Jamie is back to living palace life again. Sadly, since it’s an under the sea wedding, Mom can’t make it, but all of my merfamily will be there to celebrate the union of their future kings and queen.
Tonight we present a pre-wedding performance for our closest friends. In the ritual room of our palace, we’ll put on a sexual display to honor each other with pleasure and pain. I’m nervous and rainbow streaks pulse through my tail, signaling my anxiety as I morph into a form somewhere between human and merperson before entering the ritual space with my two husbands-to-be.
My heartbeat speeds up as I enter the chamber, finding people have already begun to arrive early and they swim into place inside plush seats situated in giant clamshells. The whole place shimmers and the open area ahead where we will perform has had extra glowing kelp added to the walls. Streamers made from sea snail and clam shells, as well as starfish, hang from the fronds of seaweed.
I walk to the performance area where my naked lovers wait. Once more the three of us have shifted to this between state for our sexual display. We are the only ones who wear legs in this room.
One of my lovers binds me to a spanking bench made from iridescent abalone and clam shells that have been polished and melded together using merperson technology. My wrists are ensnared in cuffs carved from this same material, as are my ankles. My ass hangs over the end of the bench and my legs are spread wide apart. One side of my face presses into the cool surface of the bench. I keep my breathing even and try to relax as we start, but there are so many merpeople watching it’s hard not to panic. This is only the second time I’ve been on display like this, and while it’s exhilarating it’s also terrifying. I suppose that’s part of the thrill, too.
My dark haired lover takes a pair of purply red snail shells from a large open clamshell we use as our toy box. He lifts me up from the bench just enough to fasten these to my nipples. Hot, searing pain lancing through them from the tight pinch and I gasp from the sensation. When he lays me back down against the bench, the shells bite harder into my skin and my nipples stiffen and throb. The arousal stirs a pulsing in my clit and cunt.
I hear watery murmurs from the crowd and my blond master speaks, “Mistress, you cannot come until we tell you. Small moans are allowed, but screaming,” he pauses long enough to kneel and stare into my eyes, “will be severely punished.”
My pussy twinges hard from his promise. I try to still my breathing, calm my nerves, as we begin.
First a sensation oil is rubbed all over my skin, into my clit, over my nipples. I sigh and feel as if every muscle melts as they caress away my knots, my tension. Then one of them walks to the head of the bench and grabs my hair. He yanks my head up and tells me to suck on his hot, thick erection. I do so with gusto, slurping at his pre-cum slick head and curling my tongue around his rosy pink shaft. He moans and guides more of his cock deep into my mouth. I enjoy the salty, slippery taste of him, sucking strong until my cheeks collapse and then letting up. He fucks my face faster, his thrusts growing carnal thanks to my tal
ented mouth.
The lover behind me massages more oil into my ass cheeks then he probes my anal canal with one, two fingers while he brushes the surface of a tawse made from sunken ship wood over my ass. As he fingers my rectum, the wood leaves my skin then swishes down to deliver a strong, stinging thwack. I moan around the cock in my mouth and my hands fist inside their manacles.
He now moves his fingers to my sex, where he rubs my clit in long strokes that make it tingle like mad. My hips rise off the bench, trying to bring his fingers to that sweet spot that will deliver an amazing orgasm. But he teases me, taking his touch away from my swelling clitoris and sweeping fingers between my wet labia. Then he dips down and buries his head between my legs, poking his tongue in my hole and then flicking it over my clit until I have to fight off an orgasm before I’m disciplined for having one without their permission.
The cock I suck is pulled from my lips as my master tells my other lover to join him up front. I know what’s about to happen. It’s a form of punishment and pleasure designed to test my restraint and I can’t wait to watch, but I hope they don’t make me wait too long before one of them fucks me.
The dark haired man gets to his knees and presents his ass to my master. My master gives me a wolfish smile before he kneels behind our lover and dips his head. He licks the man’s asshole with the tip of his long, pink tongue, laving it up and down our lover’s crack and then swirling it over his balls. Then he pokes it inside the man’s ass while he reaches up with one hand to tug and tweak our lover’s scrotum. The dark haired man groans, but he is warned that the rules apply to him, too, and if he screams too loudly or cums without permission he will also be punished.
My pussy throbs from watching and I wish I could touch myself, rub my clit and make myself come. But still I have to watch on. My breathing grows shallow as my lust grows hotter.
After he lubes up the man’s ass well with his spit, he pins me with a narrow eyed stare as he drives his cock deep into our lover’s asshole. The dark haired man rears up and his back arches deeply. All his muscles go rigid and his face contorts as pleasure rockets through him. I moan with him as our master pumps his cock in and out in long, slow strokes while he gives our lover a hand job.
He watches me as he fucks him, gauging my reactions, enjoying my torture. The dark haired one slits open his eyes to watch me, also, and he smiles through the faces he makes in his desire. I lick my lips and grow hungrier for my turn.
Finally he drives his cock deep into the dark haired man’s ass one last time then draws out and cums all over his back. He takes his time licking our lover clean, torturing me more until I can’t stand it.
“Fuck me!” I demand, and the crowd lets out a collective gasp. “I want your cock in me right now.”
My blond master gives me a scowl and shakes a finger at me. “You were told not to scream without our permission.” He crosses his arms over his chest and I fear the performance will stop.
My dark haired master rises up and speaks. “But we’ve already tortured you enough, I think. And, besides, I want to bury my cock in that sweet ass of yours.”
My face and whole body heat from his carnal words. He and the other master move behind me. Soon one is underneath me, laving at my clit and fucking me with strong fingers while the other slowly nudges his thick cock deep inside my lubed ass.
A sigh becomes a whimper as I begin to thrash in my bonds. My rectum and pussy are on fire with pressure and throbbing, but neither sensation is unpleasant. They rub my g-spot from back to front while one sucks my clit deep into his mouth. I soon buck uncontrollably on the bench, gritting my teeth and hoping they allow me to come soon.
“Come now, Mistress. Come hard. Squeeze my cock and squirt all over me.”
I do as he commands. An intense pressure that makes me feel like I have to pee builds in my pelvis and then bursts, making me shiver and scream out as a strong orgasm rocks me and makes me squirt all over his chest.
The crowd applauds and cheers. After the men cum and finish up with me, they untie me from the abalone bench and gather me in their arms, carrying me to our bed chamber. My heart fills with love and contentment as I ponder a lifetime spent as a queen and giving many more performances like this.
***
50 Shades of Fairy Tales
Wild & Lawless Collection No. 1
By Leigh Foxlee
Naughty BDSM Fairy Tales filled with erotic hijinks.
Includes:
Sleeping With Beauty
The Ugly Duckling
Cindy Eller
Hans & Greg
***
Sleeping with Beauty
“I’d like to rock your world.”
Mike set the drink down in front of me and smiled, showing dazzling white teeth. His steely grey eyes twinkled.
I grinned and played along. “We’ve been over this before. You’re too young.” I flipped a straight strand of golden blonde hair out of my eyes and sipped on the concoction, complete with pink drink umbrella, he’d given me.
He hooked a thumb at a guy toward the end of the bar. “It’s not from me, sweetheart. It’s from him.”
Rock your world was the name of one of Mike’s specialties, and though I owned this place, I had forgotten what exactly the mixed drink contained. Mike was my head bartender, and I trusted him to take care of such recipes and all things alcohol in this place. He’d been with me three years and the kid had never let me down.
And considering he’s only ten years younger than me, I should really quit calling him a kid. How insulting. I can’t help myself. Sometimes I feel so much older than my 35 years.
“But you don’t look old, Kat,” Mike whispered close to my ear, as if he could read my mind. “You look like a foxy 25-year-old Jennifer Aniston.”
I waved him off good-naturedly and tried to hide my shiver. How the hell did he do that? It’s like he had a direct line into my thoughts.
“Well,” I said, pushing the drink away from me. “You can tell him thank you, but no thank you.”
Mike snickered and took away the alcohol. “Yeah, he kinda looks like a sleazy used car salesman, doesn’t he?”
I laughed. “Yeah, no offense to the guy, but he does.”
Mike moved off toward the balding gentleman, who looked like a cross between Larry David and George Bush. My head bartender looked decidedly pleased to be delivering my tactful turndown. Whether the guy really was as sleazy as he looked, I didn’t know, and I didn’t see the point in being intentionally cruel over a harmless gesture.
Although, by the spreading grin on Mike’s face as he returned, and the way the poor jilted guy slinked away from the bar, my employee may have elaborated on my polite refusal.
I shook my head and smiled. That man was incorrigible.
“So, how you been sleeping?” Mike opened up the small dishwasher we kept to wash glasses just under the counter.
I sighed and avoided his penetrating, compassionate gaze. “Not well.”
He shook a finger at me. “I could tell the insomnia’s back. You always get extra quiet when you aren’t sleeping well. And you forgot to do the books. You never forget to do the books on Friday.”
I bristled a bit at this, but swallowed down my defensive trigger and joked, “Well, maybe I’ve suddenly got a life, and now I’m doing the books on Monday.”
He gave that deep, throaty laugh I tried to deny had an effect on me. “Sweetie, I know everything about you, and I know you haven’t gotten a life yet.” His warm, strong finger swept under my chin and tilted my head up.
Uttered by different lips, those words would’ve come off as creepy. But, from Mike, they came off as caring, concerned, sad about my lack of social outings. I knew he worried about me. Worried that I worked too much.
He didn’t know the truth, though. That was one thing Mike Stansfield did not know about Ms. Katherine J. Leonard. (Call me Kat for short.) He didn’t know the effect I had on people.
It started, or at least I
became first aware of it, in elementary school. I was about nine. I liked to watch the other kids playing on the tire swing, and I’d always been an observer. But, this day, my friend Robbie Golding asked me to play tag with him and some other kids, and I gleefully joined the small group.
I caught Robbie. Tag, you’re it! But, as kids will do, we got to wrestling on the school grounds. It was harmless fun, until Robbie started to gasp for air. The official diagnosis was asthma, but I knew. I don’t know how, but somehow I knew. I stole his breath away, and it most certainly was not a good thing.
After that, more strange things happened. Kids would complain they felt drained after a sleepover at my house. Like they had no energy and they could sleep for a week. Me, on the other hand? I’d feel energized. As if I could run circles around the high school track field from dusk till dawn.
And when I had sex, it only got worse. Lucky me. My first time, I thankfully only gave the boy a panic attack. But I stopped a man’s heart once. I bought my first vibrator after that experience.
But here’s the sadistic irony of my situation. I’m an insomniac, and the only thing that truly cures my insomnia is sex.
Universe has a really crappy sense of humor.
Mom took me to multiple specialists, doctors of all sorts, but no one has a clue what’s really wrong with me. Supposedly it’s all psychosomatic. It’s not psychosomatic when you’re in the ER, praying your boyfriend doesn’t die from having sex with you, let me tell you.
But what do I know? I’m a simple bar owner with a weak spot for cheesy 70s films and Channing Tatum. You can also see why Rogue from X-Men is my favorite superhero, I’m sure.
“Yeah, I can’t sleep.” I asked him to make me a lime margarita. “So what?”
He shrugged, but a smirk lingered at the corners of his mouth. “The offer still stands.”
I shook my head, smiling at him as I did so. “Nope. I never mix business with pleasure.”
His eyebrow raised and he shook a finger at me while he dried a glass. “That might be part of your problem, Ms. Kat.”
BDSM Mega Boxed Set Page 12