Lust Lurks at Dark Lair

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Lust Lurks at Dark Lair Page 14

by Roger Hastings


  “Is she ready to talk about the gang of assassins?”

  Dagan smirked. “Ask her yourself. She’s not talking to me anymore. Must have been something I said.”

  Graveston strode over to Hedy, standing a scant inch from her body. “This must be terrible for you. And it’s so unnecessary. You can end this nightmare right now. Tell the baron what he wants to know about your murderous friends.”

  “Damn you!” Hedy’s voice croaked. “I’m a queen. You will all hang for this.”

  “Your friends will never know it was you who exposed them. They are the ones who will hang. Not the baron, not me, nor my friends.”

  Hedy scowled at him. “You’ll hang me, too, as soon as I betray you to my friends.”

  “You haven’t murdered anyone yet. You won’t hang unless you keep protecting them. It’s stupid for you to refuse. But if you don’t tell us, the Voldavian courts will surely hang you as an accessory to murder the next time your friends kill someone. You cannot win.”

  Hedy spat into Graveston’s face.

  Graveston sighed and shook his head. “It’s time to introduce this woman to your friend, Crowley. We’ll lock him in here with her, then we’ll leave to let them get aquatinted.”

  Dagan grinned and nodded. He ducked out the door and trotted down the hall, calling to the creature. “Crowley, we have a new woman-toy for you to play with. And this time, no one will be around to say ‘stop’.”

  He returned, towing the massive hulk by the hand. Hedy gasped and shuddered in her chains as the grotesque creature squeezed his mammoth bulk through the door. He yanked off his loincloth and cradled his enormous cock in his hand, proudly exhibiting it to Hedy’s bulging eyes.

  “Better let him do anything to your body he wants to,” Dagan said with a snicker. “He gets terribly violent when someone refuses to play his game with him.” He and Graveston stepped out of the cell, swinging the iron-barred door shut. The lock closed with a sickening ‘clack’.

  “He can’t get out,” Graveston said as the men strolled away in the darkness, “so you’re the only entertainment he has.”

  “No-o-o-o!” Hedy’s scream echoed through the cellar as the creature reached out his powerful hands toward her naked, defenseless body. His stubby fingers poked and prodded her breasts and belly, then skated down her goose-bumped skin to frolic in the lush jungle of her pubic hair. His first and middle fingertips began a rhythmic sawing motion along the length of her pussy lips.

  Hedy gasped and bit her lip, hard. Gradually, her terror faded as she began to hope he wouldn’t rip her arms and legs off her torso. Her breath became ragged and deep, her eyes closed and she rocked her head, stroking the sensual touch of her hair against her arms. The breath caught in her throat, then her words flowed out in a hoarse whisper, “Milos never touched me like that.”

  Crowley flashed his crooked grin and replaced the touch of his fingers with the turgid purple tip of his gigantic cock. He caressed her drooping breasts with his fingers. Rocking his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm, his upraised erection stroked the surface of her pussy. He waited until the flow of her love juices lubricated him, then he entered her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lust Triumphant

  Lissa lay on the mound of fresh straw in her cell. She heard the cries of a woman somewhere in a far corner of this dungeon of perpetual night. How many girls have they captured and keep prisoner down here? For the first time, she began to realize what life was like for the maids her husband’s family kept in Blackthorne House. Well, their work is easy, and they certainly seem to enjoy being fucked in a rich man’s bed. But this pile of straw was scratchy. She rubbed her arms and belly where wisps of straw clung to her.

  How much longer? Baron Vartan would not dare keep me here more than a few days, and--Oh gawd!--would he dare sell me to one of those filthy brothels in the far east where diseased pirates and cruel business tycoons torture and fuck helpless girls until they die of despair? She shuddered.

  That sex-beast had shambled past her cell a few minutes ago. Now, Lissa heard that woman’s voice again, a scream of terror. Lissa closed her eyes and tried to shut out the ugly images in her mind. The woman screamed again, pleading.

  “Welcome to the club,” Lissa whispered.

  ***

  “Here you are, Radinka, a nice, warm, flannel nightgown.”

  “Thank you, Devora.” The gypsy girl climbed out of the tub, dripping water. She blushed and grabbed at a towel as Devora looked boldly at the girl’s naked body, drinking in the vision of her feminine charms blooming into womanhood.

  Devora helped her into the robe, then took a fresh towel and rubbed her damp hair briskly. “Got to keep you warm. We have the softest down comforters on our beds. We’ll be safe in my bed from the wind and storm.”

  “You’re so very kind,” Radinka said as Devora led her down the dim, shadowy hall. A kerosene lamp flickered in its wall fixtures.

  “No electric light here, child. I’m afraid the workmen didn’t have time to install the wires, yet. And, we are so far from the village. The Baron is still arguing with the electric company about the price for bringing their lines this far out.”

  “I’m not afraid,” the gypsy girl said. “We live in the darkness every night, with only candles or, in Karl’s wagon, a kerosene lamp.”

  “Good. I want you to feel secure and relaxed. And I know just how to do that for you.”

  “You do? How?”

  Devora glanced at the hall clock ticking away the minutes until midnight. “Wait a few hours. At midnight I’ll wake you. You’ll be eighteen then, and then I can show you.”

  “Why do I have to be eighteen for you to show me? What is it.”

  “Here’s my bedroom. Now,” Devora pressed a finger on Radinka’s lips, “no more questions. It’s a birthday surprise.” She pushed the door open and led the girl inside.

  The cozy flames licked and danced in the fireplace. There was no other light. Against the far wall was a huge bed, piled with comforters to keep out the October chill. On the vanity table stood a bottle of wine and two glasses. “For us,” Devora said, “after.”

  “After what?” Radinka asked. Devora grabbed the girl’s wrist. “I said, ‘no more questions’.” Her voice was soft, but her fierce grip hurt Radinka’s wrist.

  “I’m sorry,” the girl said.

  “Good.” Devora released her. “Now let’s get into bed. I’m too excited to sleep, but you must be tired.” She pulled the comforter over their nightgown-clad bodies and kissed Radinka’s forehead. “Until midnight, then.” Devora lay on her pillow, her eyes often darting to the mantel clock on the fireplace. The hour hand seemed frozen, a petrified pointer teasing her with delay.

  Radinka’s soft, slow breathing confirmed she was asleep, her ruby rosebud lips at peace—until the magic hour when she became legally available. At midnight her body would be fair game for the carnal appetites of men--and women.

  ***

  There was a pounding on the bedroom door. “Baron, wake up!”

  Vartan lifted his head, his mind still filled with the echo of his dream. He pushed his torso up, lifting it off Yeva’s. “What is it?”

  “She’s gone, escaped!” The voice of Graveston filtered through the locked door.

  “What?” Yeva mumbled, squirming her chained body to look at the door.

  “Who’s gone?” Vartan asked, sitting up and reaching for his robe.

  “That gypsy woman we caught. And Crowley is gone, too. He forced the lock, and they both got out of the cell. The woman’s clothes are gone, too.”

  “Damn!” Vartan tied the sash of his robe. “No time for me to dress, we have to go catch them now!”

  “Dagan is following their trail. In this storm, they left their footprints in the mud. They’re headed east, along the cliff at the edge of Loch Ruse.”

  Vartan stuffed his feet into his boots and galloped across the room. He twisted the key in the door and jerked it open. “Let’s go
!”

  ***

  “Hurry up!” Hedy yelled at Crowley. “They will be after me soon, and I must escape. I am a queen! The world cannot afford to be without me!” She scrambled along the stony edge of the cliff, pushing aside the tips of the tree branches.

  Crowley groaned, his huge bare feet stinging from bearing his monstrous weight over the sharp stones.

  “Stop!” Dagan’s voice was faint behind them, almost blown away by the storm.

  Crowley halted, turning his head to catch the sound.

  “I told you to hurry up!” Hedy shrieked. “Forget those people. You belong to me, now.”

  Crowley looked at Hedy, then turned his head back to the west, listening.

  “Stop!” the call came again, closer this time. “My friend, bring her back!”

  Hedy scrambled back and gripped the creature’s hand. “I command you to come with me. Obey your queen!”

  Crowley looked down into her angry face, tear’s flowing from his eyes. He stood motionless as she repeatedly jerked at his ponderous arm.

  “Now! Now!” she screamed up at him.

  A light flickered on the path behind them; Dagan was carrying a lantern. He saw them. “My friend! Hold her. Don’t let her get away!”

  Crowley looked at Dagan, then at Hedy, then back to his friend. Snarling, he whirled and gripped his massive hands around Hedy’s waist and lifted her into the air. For the first time since his terrible experiences back in Voldavia, he spoke, “No!”

  “Monster!” Hedy shrieked. “You could have shared the world with me. Now you will pay for your treason!” A long stiletto blade flashed in the sudden gleam of lightning, and Hedy plunged it deep into Crowley’s neck.

  With a strangled cry, he dropped her, gripping the hilt of the dagger, yanking it out of his neck and dropping it. But it was too late. The long blade had severed his carotid artery, and he sank to his knees, moaning and crying like a child.

  Dagan ran up to his friend, stunned and shaking with grief. With a growl he spun around, glaring at Hedy.

  “Stay away,” she said, snatching up her dagger and aiming it to defend herself.

  “You...” Dagan’s voice was the snarl of a Voldavian wolf, “You killed my best friend” He leaped toward her. Gripping her knife-wielding wrist with one hand, and grabbing a fist full of her hair with his other. He yanked her head back, exposing her neck. The last thing Hedy saw was his gaping mouth, and the long, pointed canine teeth framed by his snarling lips. He lunged his head, burying the teeth into her neck.

  Hedy screamed, feeling the sharp points puncture her vein. Then she heard the sucking noise. The world faded as she wrenched her wrist loose from his hand and struck her blade deep into Dagan’s back.

  “There they are, see the light from Dagan’s lantern?” Graveston pointed ahead.

  “Yes, hurry. All three of them are there.” Baron Vartan raced behind his butler, dreading the sight of three bodies lying on the ground.

  “Dagan!” Vartan cried, stooping and lifting the man’s head. Hedy’s blood streaked his chin and collar.

  “She murdered my friend,” he gasped.

  Crowley moaned, his hand reaching out toward Dagan.

  “Help me get to him,” Dagan said.

  Baron Vartan helped Dagan to his feet, and he shuffled over to the creature, leaning on the Baron’s supporting arm.

  Dagan crouched over him, clasping one of the creature’s hands in both of his own.

  Crowley wept, “I’m sorry. Woman said she would marry me, make me a king.” He sobbed, “I bad.”

  Dagan bent forward, pressing the creature’s face against his own. “Crowley good,” he said, choking on the lump in his throat. “Crowley best friend. I love you.”

  Crowley smiled and his lips struggled to speak again. It was too late, his eyes glazed in death.

  “She’s dead,” Graveston said as he rose from beside Hedy’s body. “Bled to death from those twin wounds on her throat. How did she get those?” He hurried over, staring at the knife hilt still protruding from Dagan’s back. “Is he dead?” he asked the Baron.

  Graveston started when Dagan spoke, “Pull that damned thing out of me.”

  “What! You’re alive?”

  “No knife can kill Dagan,” Vartan said. “He’s...well, immune.”

  ***

  The mantelpiece clock chimed twelve times. Devora shook Radinka gently. “’The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve,’” she quoted Shakespeare, “‘have we not heard the chimes?’”

  “Hm-m-m-m,” Radinka moaned softly.

  “Happy birthday. Wake up and see what surprise I have for you,” Devora giggled.

  “Oh, midnight? I’m really eighteen?”

  “Just this minute, dearest little morsel.”

  Radinka yawned and tried to stretch, but her arms were already stretched to the bed corner posts. She tugged, but they wouldn’t move. Something was gripping her wrists. Her legs, too, were spread wide open, and they were held by some unmovable force.

  “What...Why am I...?” she glanced up at her wrists and gasped. “My arms, they’re chained! And my legs, too!”

  “Yes, dear. It’s more fun this way, especially if it’s your first time.”

  “First time for what?”

  “Oh, come now, your gypsy band has horses. Surely you’ve seen what the stallions do to the mares?”

  “No, what do they do?”

  “You just relax and let Devora show you. But first, we have to get that nightgown off, so we can admire your body.” She sat up, and Radinka gasped. Devora had already removed her nightgown, and her naked breasts swayed above the trembling girl.

  “But...No, please! I’m not supposed to show my body to anyone until Karel chooses a husband for me.”

  “My dear, sheltered child. It’s your body, and you can show it to anyone. We girls all have the same inventory. And men...well, if you have never seen a naked man...”

  “No, never! I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “Well, you are now,” Devora said, skillfully unbuttoning Radinka’s nightgown. “You’re going to get some scary and wonderful birthday surprises from me and the men in this castle.”

  Radinka’s lower lip quivered, and tears flowed down her cheeks.

  “Now, now,” Devora said gently. “Don’t get upset. That will rob you of all the pleasure. Now relax. Just relax and enjoy it while I do all the work.” She spread the nightgown open, and slid down the bed until her mouth pressed into the girl’s pussy.

  “OH!” Radinka gasped, her eyes wide, staring up at the ceiling. “OH!” It felt like when she would play with herself under the covers in her bed, hoping Karel and Katarina wouldn’t hear her sighs and delicate moans. But this was so wonderful—no—better than wonderful. This was paradise. She shut her eyes and smiled.

  Devora felt the tension melt away from the girl’s body. She glanced at Radinka’s face, then dipped her head into pussyland again. By morning this moaning girl would be ready for the Baron and his men.

  ***

  The eastern sky lightened. The rising sun was still behind the Whitwood hills, but the breaking clouds were pink and gold, brightening a world with trees still dripping from last night’s storm. In the castle foyer two bodies lay on a table, each covered with a blanket.

  “I’ve sent Graveston to fetch Inspector Gall, and the gypsy men. There’s going to be an investigation, an embarrassing nuisance, but it should all be over by tonight. I asked Graveston to tell that gypsy prince his sister is safe here. I also sent a note to Blackthorne House, requesting Sir Richard to come and take Lissa home.”

  Yeva pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, darling. Maybe it was a mistake, us coming here.”

  “No, Yeva. It’s good for us to make our home here. Now that Hedy is dead, we will never learn the names of that murderous gang in central Europe. I fear that they will take advantage of the trouble in Serbia. They will do some mischief, perhaps even try t
o kill a member of the royal family. That would start a war.”

  He bent and kissed her lips. “It’s good for us to be here. We are safe from the madness and murder now.” He glanced at the body of Crowley, silent under his shroud. “I’ll have to arrange the funeral. Poor creature; born disfigured, tormented by jeers and ridicule when he was a child, beaten and exploited when he was a young man, then sold to that horrible doctor who performed all that experimental surgery on him.

  “He only wanted love, but no girl would let him touch her. When I rescued him from that mob, I couldn’t give him a girl who would love him, but his only friend, Dagan, captured girls for him to fuck. That’s all he had in life, sex and Dagan’s friendship.”

  “And your compassion,” Yeva added.

  The chugging, rattling sound of a motor car coughed to a halt in the courtyard. Graveston was the first to come in the door. “The Inspector is here,” he announced, “and he has that gypsy prince with him.”

  “Show them in here,” Vartan said.

  Inspector Gall and Karel strode into the room. “Sorry I’m so late, the bloody roads were a quagmire after that downpour last night. My motor car got stuck three times on the way here.”

  “Where is my sister?” Karel asked.

  “Still sleeping,” Yeva answered. “She was exhausted when she showed up on our doorstep. I had the maid give her a warm bath. When she awakens, we will bring her to you.”

  “Are these the bodies?” Gall asked. He flipped back the cover and peered at Hedy’s face. He gestured for Karel to come over and look. “She the one?”

  Karel exhaled a long, slow breath. “Yes, that’s her.” He looked at the baron, “What happened to her?”

  “She attacked my dependent; he’s the large body lying next to hers. He killed her as he was dying from the knife she stabbed into his neck.” Vartan didn’t mention Dagan, hoping they wouldn’t ask too many questions about Hedy’s puncture wounds.

  “How did he do this?” Gall pointed to the bite marks on Hedy’s neck.

  “It was dark, and storming. I couldn’t see them clearly until I reached their bodies. It was all over then.”

  Gall beckoned to Karel, “Look at this, Karel. What do you make of it?”

 

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