Kora and Sven's other women have to distract a pack of honry feyhounds with their bodies.
The Rogue's Harem
Book One: Rogue's Sultry Harem
Part Fifteen: Satiating the Feyhounds
Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this.
Chapter Forty-Three: Satiating the Feyhound
Sven Falk – Faerie
“Why are feyhounds an issue?” I asked, glancing at Cú Mheá sitting on his haunches beside Aingeal, his leafy tongue lolling from his muzzle. “I've fought dogs before.”
“They're almost impossible to kill,” Aingeal said. “It's not like stabbing a sword through them will do much. They're animated by magic. If you cut enough of their branches, they fall apart, but not before they tear you to pieces. They're fast. They're nimble. And they're loyal.”
“I can make an illusion,” Kora said. “And so can you, Aingeal.”
“Faerie illusions don't work on them. They're not living creatures. And they have keen senses. They don't just rely on vision. If you're not careful, Kora, they could see other clues: footprints left on the ground, hear noises, smell scents.”
“Ah,” my sister said. “That would make it... difficult.”
“Well, we can sneak past them,” Zanyia suggested. “I'm good at that.”
“Not all of us are,” I said.
“You are very good at it, brother mine,” Kora said, a smile on her lips. “You've snuck into more than a few maiden's chambers in your times.”
I gave her a cocky grin. “More than a few.”
“But I'm not so good at it,” Kora said. She glanced at my newest sex slave, Nathalie. “And I have a feeling you're not, either.”
The girl shook her head, her braided, blonde pigtails swaying about her shoulders.
“Luckily, feyhounds do have one weakness,” Aingeal said, her butterfly wings fluttering. She scratched Cú Mheá's head between his wicker ears. His thick, stiff tail thumped on the ground, creaking like an oak tree in a windstorm.
Kora groaned. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Aingeal grinned.
“What is...” My eyes widened. I couldn't help the grin crossing my face as I stared at my squirming sister.
“Fairies made them,” Kora said. “And you're children of Las, so....”
“So it's pussy,” I said my dick throbbing.
Aingeal gave a vigorous nod. “They tend to run in packs of three to six. And we have four pussies at our disposal.” She slipped an arm around my sister's waist, giving her an arched grin. “You're lucky night. No excuse not to scratch that itch Cú Mheá gave you.”
Kora squeezed her eyes shut, her cheeks completely red.
We crept through the woods approaching Réimse Seamair. I trembled, my heart racing. We had our plan. The pixie, after some twisting, had conjured an image of the location. We just had to get past the patrol of feyhounds without being seen.
The strange, different colored moons, shone their varied hues of light through the forest canopy. Leaves had a shimmer of orange or purple or blue light as they shifted in the breeze. The beauty was remarkable. I could spend a lifetime studying the terrain, capturing the uniqueness of it on canvas with paints. I could embroil myself in my art.
If only that bastard Prince Meinard hadn't murdered my family. I was a Radiant of Rithi. I wasn't meant to be skulking through the woods dodging animated bundles of sticks that wanted to fuck my pussy. Such a hot itch burned inside of me. It was so wrong. They were monsters. I shouldn't want to lie with them.
And my brother shouldn't want to see me fuck them. Horny pervert.
My heart pounded in my chest. The feyhounds patrolled far out from the field, several miles. Once we were through them, we only had to deal with the three treemen guards. Another problem, but one that didn't require me having sex with an animated monster and—
Cú Mheá's ears pricked. He let out a low growl, head turning to the left.
“Better get your cunts juicy, ladies,” Aingeal said, her hands shooting down to her hairless pussy. She rubbed her fingers up and down her juicy snatch, her big breasts jiggling, the gold rings catching the varied-hued moonlight streaming down around us. She whimpered, wings fluttering. “They're coming.”
I just let out a groan. Our plan was so perfect. We just had to get past these stupid feyhounds. “Why, Rithi?” I prayed to my Goddess. “Do you want me to use my sexual arts on these freaks?”
“Maybe she does,” Sven said.
I shot him a look, anger bubbling through me.
“It'll be fun, Mistress,” Zanyia purred, her tail swishing as she fell onto her hands and knees. She rubbed at her furry muff with one hand, sliding fingers up and down her leg. Nathalie joined her, the slave girl naked, her small breasts quivered. She had a big grin on her face, looking at my brother as she got her twat nice and juicy.
Aingeal joined the pair, kneeling beside them, shaking her ass in the direction Cú Mheá stared. The feyhound whimpered. He licked his lips. His wooden cock thrust out of his body. He licked it with his leafy tongue.
My pussy clenched.
“Maybe they're only three of them,” I said, hugging myself in my pink robes. I didn't want to surrender to such depravity. It was so wrong.
Sven cocked his head. I could hear a faint rustling sound. Something approached through the woods. “No, sounds like four.”
My pussy clenched. Juices ran down my thighs. I didn't need to touch myself to be nice and juicy. “You just want to watch your sister get fucked!” I snapped at him. “Your own sister! I'm your woman!”
He shrugged. “Bet it'll be hot to watch.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as I reached for the ties holding my pink robe closed. “You are such a perv. Would you want to watch another guy fuck me?”
“I have watched other guys fuck you, sister dear.” He gave me an arched look. “You never hid your dalliances from me. Probably trying to make me jealous.”
“I don't need... substitutes now.” My robe fell off my body, revealing my round breasts, the ruby amulet nestled between them, and sleek thighs. His eyes flicked at my body, sending an incestuous wave of heat through me—I loved his attention.
“It's not a human male,” Sven said. “It's not even alive.” He unlaced his leather britches, pulling out a hard cock. “It'll be so hot to watch, sister dear. So hot.”
“Uh-huh, Mistress Kora,” whimpered Nathalie.
“Join us, Mistress,” Zanyia purred, her tail swishing more. “They're coming closer and—”
A creaking bay echoed through the woods.
“They smell us,” Aingeal purred. “Come on, Kora. Get down on here and get ready to be fucked hard. It'll make your brother so happy. And I know you love pleasing my husband.”
I let out a frustrated screech, my poor pussy burning. I knelt down beside Zanyia. Her tail brushed my ass as she gave me a toothy grin. Her ears twitched and an anticipatory purr rose in her throat. She quivered.
So did I.
Gods, I wanted this.
Brush rustled. I heard heavy panting. I looked down my body, past my swaying breasts, amulet dangling with them, and out between my legs at the dark forest. A bush rustled. And then a feyhound, larger than Cú Mheá, burst out of the woods. This construct was fashioned like a big mastiff, bulky and powerful, the type who could rip someone apart.
And there, swinging between his legs, was that big, wooden cock.
My pussy clenched in anticipation. Fresh rivulets of pussy juices trickled down my thighs, glowing blue in the moonlight. I groaned, my heart hammering in my chest. Sven let out a groan, his hand sliding up and down his cock, eager to watch us get fucked.
Such a pervert.
Then the feyhound leaped on me. I gasped, feeling its wicker body rubbing hard across my back. Its strong forelegs gripped my torso. My breasts rocked forward, slapping together, the amulet bouncing between them, the smooth facets caressing my flesh. Then something hard rammed into my cunt, sparking pleasure across my labia.
“Master!” whimpered Nathalie. “Master, Master, its fucking me!”
“Ooh, yes,” yowled Zanyia. “So big. So fast!”
The feyhound on me let out a whine as it pumped its hips again, trying to get its dick in me. I shuddered, my pussy drinking in every impact of its blunt tip. It slid it around my vulva, searching for the entrance to my cunt and—
Speared into me.
“Rithi's delicate fingers!” I moaned as that thick cock slammed to the hilt in my juicy pussy.
Pleasure rippled through my body. I squirmed and shuddered beneath the feyhound's bulk. I sucked in deep breaths, my tits swaying beneath me as he rammed his dick over and over into me. He had me trembling and groaning. My moans echoed through the air as he pumped away at my juicy snatch.
He thrust so fast. Faster than I'd ever been fucked. He just hammered his wooden dick over and over into me. I shuddered, feeling his body move, made up of branches woven together. They slid across my back as he panted and groaned as he fucked me.
He. I couldn't think of this thing as an it any longer. He wasn't a thing. He may not be technically alive, but he fucked like he lived.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I moaned, adding my gasps to the other three. “He's fucking me so hard.”
“Yes, he is, sister dear,” groaned my brother, standing before me, stroking his cock so fast as he watched me. “And you look so hot.”
“Pervert!” I howled, my snatch clenching down on the wooden dick pumping away so fast.
The monster's cock stirred me up. It sent such hot ripples through my body. My tits swayed with every thrust. He rocked my body as he fucked me. The feyhound pounded my cunt. He used me as he panted, savoring the pleasure of my snatch.
Beside me, Zanyia's smaller frame rocked beneath her big feyhound. Her small tits jiggled beneath her. Her ears twitched as she yowled in pleasure. She rocked back into her feyhound's thrusts, loving her monster fucking her hard.
“Pater's huge cock!” Nathalie moaned, her young voice strained by the huge cock reaming her pussy. “Oh, Master, I'm feeling hot, too.”
“Yes, you are, you little slut,” groaned my brother. “Just taking that huge monster-dick.”
“She is,” Aingeal panted. “Ooh, I need to thank whoever made this feyhound. Such a wonderful cock. So virile.”
“Just fucking you four sluts hard,” panted my brother, pounding his hand up and down his dick.
“So hard!” I whimpered, my pussy clenching down on the invading cock as it churned me to a hot froth.
I groaned and whimpered. Such rapture surged through me. My eyes rolled back in my head as I shuddered beneath these hard strokes. I gasped and moaned. Pleasure built and built in me. My pussy clenched I sucked in a deep breath and then let out a gasping pant.
His dick burned in me. His monstrous cock hammered me so hard. I bucked into his thrust as his hard body rubbed against my ass and back. He gripped me hard as he fucked me like an animal. Juices poured down my thighs from my boiling cunt.
“Oh, Gods, brother mine!” I gasped, staring at Sven's cock as he stroked it. “I'm going to cum so hard.”
“I knew you'd love it, my sister-in-law,” the faerie groaned. “Yes, yes, yes, we're all going to cum, husband.”
“Master!” yowled Zanyia. “Master, yes!”
The lamia came hard. Her body shuddered beside me. Her feyhound howled in rapture as he felt her pussy spasming about his big dick. My own cunt clenched down hard on the monster shaft reaming my snatch, increasing the friction.
Nathalie squealed next. Then Aingeal gasped in her rapture. Sven watched us all, stroking that big cock of his. Through my lust-addled vision, I stared at that dick, watching my brother jerk himself off as my feyhound hammered my cunt.
Sven grinned at me. He knelt before me, offering me his cock.
“Brother mine!” I moaned and engulfed the tip.
I sucked on his dick hard. I nursed on his cock as the pleasure of the feyhound fucking my cunt surged through me. This was so wrong. So depraved. And I shared it with my brother. We were both such perverts.
His blue eyes reflected moonlight and his passion as he stared down at me. He stroked my flushed chin as my tongue swirled about the head of his dick. I tasted his salty precum, that incestuous flavor I loved so much.
“That's it, sister dear,” he groaned, his blond hair swaying about his rugged face. “Let yourself go. Cum on that feyhound's cock!”
I shuddered. Just hearing my brother's words set me off. My pussy convulsed. It writhed about the feyhounds dick. Pleasure surged through me as I whimpered out my rapture. I sucked so hard on my brother's cock as stars danced before my eyes.
The feyhound growled in pleasure, squeezing his hard forelegs about my torso. He hammered my convulsing pussy. He rammed his dick over and over into me, his growls growing louder and louder as he savored the pleasure of my twat.
“Gods damn, you are so sexy, sister dear,” panted Sven. His body shook.
His cum flooded my mouth. A moment later, as I gulped down incestuous cream, the feyhound buried into my spasming twat. His hot spunk spurted into me. My hot pussy milked his dick while my mouth nursed at my brother's cock.
I took jizz from both ends. It filled me. Warmed my body. I swallowed my brother's spunk while my pussy drank the feyhounds jism. I groaned and shuddered, the pleasure rippling through me. Such wonderful rapture swirled through my body and left me gasping and groaning in utter delight.
I knew I'd enjoy Cú Mheá in the days to come.
“I love being fucked!” I yowled as my orgasm burned through my body, my pussy milking the sexy feyhound's cock. “Oh, Master, yes!”
He groaned beside me, his sister nursing on his cock. She sucked him dry while her feyhound came in her. I shuddered, bucking back into my own construct, my snatch milking the monster's big dick reaming me.
He howled, ramming his shaft to the hilt in me. I yowled in delight as he spurted into me. Hot, thick cream spilled through my pussy. My ears twitched as the pleasure rippled through me. I arched my back, purring so loud, savoring this moment.
“Oh, that was wonderful,” Nathalie panted, resting her face on her hands as her feyhound dismounted her. “Ooh, Master, we pleased them.
My feyhound fired his last blast of jizz into me. “Yes, we did.” I grinned at my fellow sex slave. “And we pleased Master a lot.”
“I think Mistress Kora did that.”
“Uh-huh,” panted Sven as he pulled his dick out of his sister's mouth. “And how did you like it, Kora?”
“She loved it,” Aingeal moaned from the other side of Nathalie. Her feyhound had also dismounted her and the faerie sat on her knees. She gathered the cum running out of her pussy and sucked on it.
I groaned as mine dismounted me, his dick sliding out of my pussy. I groaned as he plopped out, pleasure buzzing through me. Then his cum ran out of me. Curious, I scooped it off my thigh and brought it to my lips.
“Ooh,” I purred. “That's different. It's so sweet and syrupy. Almost like pine sap.”
“One of my favorite treats,” Aingeal sighed. “Sometimes I can just nurse Cú Mheá's dick and drink it down.”
“Care to try, sister dear?” Sven asked as Kora licked her lips, stained with Master's cum.
“Pervert,” she said to Master, but without any bite.
I grinned as she reached between her thigh and scooped up the feyhound jizz leaking out of her. She popped it into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked it off. She shivered, her eyes widening as she groaned.
“It's different.” She glanced at Master. “Not the same at all as your cum.”
“Just so long as you like mine better,” Sven said with a grin.
“What if I don't?” Kora asked as she rose.
Sven blinked which made his sister laugh. A sheepish grin spread across master's lips as he hugged his sister and kissed her on the forehead. I hopped to my feet, buzzing with delight. My orgasm pumped euphoria through my veins.
I felt invigorated. Ready for the fight. Ready to stop Prince Meinard's despicable army and free all those humans.
Chapter Forty-Four: Sultry Paints
“I can't wait for you to fuck Cú Mheá while Nathalie or Zanyia rides my dick,” I whispered in my sister's ear. “Or maybe Ava. I bet she would like to see that.”
My sister squirmed in my arm. “Your princess might want to join me.”
My dick throbbed against my sister. “Probably.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed away from me. The feyhound's cum ran down her thighs. Why did the sight of pearly jizz staining my sister's body always make my dick so hard? It didn't even have to be mine. Just seeing her beautiful body stained with cum was intoxicating.
It soiled her and yet she still looked so proud. Unashamed. It was such an attractive quality.
“Master,” Nathalie said, tucking my cock back into my leather trousers. “You can't go save all those people with your dick out.”
“Though the women we save would probably enjoy it,” giggled Zanyia.
“Oh, yes, they would,” Nathalie nodded, her braided pigtails swaying about her shoulders, her small tits jiggling.
The four feyhounds lounged around the clearing, looking so satiated while poor Cú Mheá whined and panted, licking at his poor, hard cock. If we didn't have to stop Prince Meinard and save all those people enslaved by him, I'd let that feyhound rut to his heart content in Nathalie's pussy.
While I enjoyed my sister.
But we had a mission. I let Nathalie lace me up as my sister pulled on her pink robe. She belted it, her body and face still flushed, a vital red adding such zest to her pale skin. She gave the big feyhound who fucked her a fond smile like she wanted to keep him then glanced at me.
“Well, brother mine? Done satisfying your perverse desires? Or do I need to rut with Cú Mheá for your pleasure.”
“After, sister dear,” I said, loving the twinkle in her blue eyes. “When we're celebrating our victory.”
She laughed, the sound so rich and delightful.
I could see the stocks through the trees situated on Réimse Seamair. It appeared to be a vast meadow. And there were so many stocks, each with a person in them. I shivered at that, shaking my head at the monstrosity of Prince Meinard's actions.
If he had an army of thousands of animated statues, then there must be thousands of humans out there, all shackled to the lodestone. It was such a terrible thing. It felt worse than normal slavery. At least then they'd still had their minds free.
“You can do this,” Sven told me, stroking my arms through my pink robe.
I nodded my head. “This will be easy. It's just an illusion. I don't have feyhounds to distract.”
Just treemen. And they weren't constructs but living creatures. Nor did they have the feyhounds keen senses. I could create the distraction that would keep them busy. The massive pine tree before me, reaching high up into the sky, was perfect.
My brother hugged me and kissed me on the mouth. I shuddered, clinging to him. His leather jerkin creaked against me. His hands squeezed my rear through my robe, pulling me so tight against him.
“I love you,” he said when he broke the kiss. “Don't get yourself killed.”
“I'm not the one sneaking out through the stocks to the Lodestone,” I said. “I have the safer job.”
I shivered. “Yes. I'll be hidden with Nathalie. Stop worrying. You need to focus.”
He took a deep breath and let me go.
“Mistress,” Zanyia purred as she threw her arms around me. She rained hot kisses across my face. “Be safe.”
“You watch out for my brother.”
“I won't let him be reckless,” she said.
“Let me?” Sven asked, his voice sounding amused. “You're my slave, remember?”
“And a good slave knows when to ignore her master's commands,” the lamia said, a toothy grin on her lips.
“Like when I tried to free you?” Sven asked. “Or when you made Nathalie my slave.”
“I made myself your slave, Master,” Nathalie said.
“And she's a good slave,” Zanyia said. Then she darted to Sven's side.
Aingeal stepped up to me. “Well, my dear sister-in-law, I want you to paint the hottest fire ever.”
“I will,” I said, trembling. I wanted to trust Aingeal, I did. But... She had a connection with this Duke Gallchobhar. A connection that could get my brother killed if she had some other scheme in mind. Some other way to get back at him. I wanted to ask why she hated him.
She hugged me, her big breasts pillowing against mine. Her lips found my ear. “I won't betray him. You saw to that. I love him.”
“I want this,” she added. “I want Duke Gallchobhar to pay!”
“Okay,” I said, hugging her back, trying not to crush her delicate butterfly wings. They fluttered, the tops brushing the bottom slopes of my arm. “You better not. I'm more than a little fond of my brother.”
“I know. I've seen you ride his dick.” Then Aingeal kissed me. I shuddered at the passion on her lips. They were plump and hot. I quivered, my arms tightening across her upper back. Then she broke away, leaving me struggling to catch my breath.
My brother, Aingeal, and Zanyia slipped out of the woods into the clearing as I began my count. “One, two, three...”
I crept in the brush with Nathalie, lying down on my stomach and staring at the tree as I counted. I slid my hand beneath my body and slipped it into my robe. I shuddered as I found my shaved pudenda then the wet folds of my pussy. I stroked up and down my slit, lubing my digits with my juices.
“...sixty-nine, seventy, seventy-one...”
I needed my pussy juices. They would be the paint I created my illusion out of. I shifted my hips, brushing my clit. Despite the fear weighing down my belly, heat rippled through me. My body responded to my touches.
“...one hundred and two, one hundred and three, one hundred and four...”
My fingers became slippery with juices. I pictured in my head the art I would paint in the real world, the flames crackling up the branches of the tree, the pine turning into a blazing torch to light up the night. I would need a lot of pain.
“...one hundred and twenty-five, one hundred and twenty-six, one hundred and twenty-seven...”
My heart pounded in me. My hips shifted of the ground as my pussy cream dripped down my fingers and coated my hand. I rubbed my clit. My ass clenched and my pussy grew so tight. My nipples poked at my robes, pressed into the ground and throbbing as I twitched.
“...one-hundred and sixty-three, one hundred and sixty-four, one hundred and sixty-five...”
The tension grew in my stomach despite the lust my stroking fingers conjured. My brother and his women slipped deeper and deeper through the stocks, closer and closer to the three treemen who guarded it. What if this didn't work?
“...one-hundred and eight-five, one hundred and eight-six, one hundred and eighty-seven...”
What if they didn't care about trees burning like Aingeal claimed they would?
“...one hundred and ninety-one, one hundred and ninety-two, one hundred and ninety-three...”
What if they instead spotted my brother and killed him?
“...one hundred and ninety-seven, one hundred and ninety-eight, one hundred and ninety-nine...”
Time to find out if they'd come.
I took a deep breath as I finished my count. Nathalie let out a whimpering groan beside me. I pulled my hand from my pussy, soaked in my pussy juices. So much paint to create my illusion with. I fixed the image in my mind, staring at the pine tree through the brush.
“Rithi, bless my sexual juices and let them paint new beauty in the world,” I prayed.
The juices on my hand sparkled. The power surged out of me as my fingers moved, painting my art upon the world. Nathalie gasped as fire erupted around the tree. A vast, roaring crackle filled the air as the flames appeared to devour the tree, climbing higher and higher. A harsh, red-orange light flooded the night.
A beacon to draw the treemen away from the lodestone.
Chapter Forty-Five: The Stocks
“This is terrible,” I said as we entered the stocks, Cú Mheá padding along beside me.
As far as I could see across the meadow were row upon row of wooden stocks. Spirits of Enchantment danced around each one, imbuing the wood with their magic. Humans were slumped in them, men and women both. They were naked, their knees bent, their heads and hands shoved through the stocks. Their eyes were open but focused on nothing. They breathed slowly but made no other sound. Their souls were far away, imbuing statues of soldiers for this horrid Prince Meinard.
“Gods, this is monstrous,” Sven said, shaking his head as we moved closer and closer to the center.
“I can't believe Duke Gallchobhar would do this,” I said, a fury rising. “I didn't even think he could sink so low. If Queen Sidhe discovers this...” My wings fluttered. Hope surged through me. Would this restore my name and my family's land usurped by that bastard?
Would it undo my prank's consequences?
My wings fluttered as we padded deeper and deeper into the stocks. We passed unseeing face after unseeing face. Most were Zeutchian humans, hair blond or light brown, skin pale. But there were a few red-skinned Thlinians, and I spotted one redheaded Tuathan from the Lesh-Ke Mountains.
“These are his own people,” I said. “And he lets that Shizhuthian naga enslave them for him?”
“To keep his hands clean,” growled Sven. “Publicly, he has patrols that roam along the Despeir Mountains to prevent it.”
Zanyia hissed in annoyance. Then she said, “I just reached two hundred.”
Sven paused, peering ahead. The treemen towered over the stocks, dark shapes moving around a large stone in the center. They were another race born of Las, all male. The God of Lust's cum had fallen on a grove of trees to birth them. Many had come to Faerie to escape humans cutting down their woods. They stood three times the height of a human, living trees who could batter down walls with their strength.
Red light flared behind us. I blinked at the intensity of it, shadows dancing before us. I looked over my shoulder at the illusion Kora had conjured. It lit up the night like a miniature sun. The massive pine tree blazed and kindled.
“Come on,” Sven muttered at the hulking shadows, crouching beside a stock holding a middle-aged man, streaks of gray in his blond hair. “That's a tree in danger.”
The three treemen had paused their patrol. They creaked as they turned towards the burning tree. My wings fluttered. They had to take the distraction. They lived to protect their kin, as they saw other trees. Why weren't they moving? I stroked Cú Mheá, my heart beating faster and faster.
“Can we fight them?” asked Sven.
“Not easily,” I answered. “My illusions will work on them, but look at the size of them. They could crush any one of us as easily as swatting a fly.”
And then the shadows moved. I heard their creaking joints and the thud of their footsteps. Sven grinned as they strode from the lodestone. I moved behind a stock, pressing against it as the treemen came closer, not straight at us, but they would pass nearby.
Their forms resolved out of the darkness. Instead of skin, they had thick, gnarled bark. Fuzzy moss, a pale gray-green color, gave them the appearance of beards and hairs. Their limbs were made of branches twisted together, much like a feyhound or a spriggan. But these had little, trefoil leaves growing out of strange spots, like errant hairs on a human body.
The ground shook as they past, their gazes fixed at the tree. They moved with rapid strides. I shuddered, hoping Kora would be safe. She just had to distract them long enough to destroy the lodestone.
“Okay,” Sven said. “They're passed. Let's hurry.”
I nodded my head and followed after him, my faithful feyhound at my heels.
“Wait!” I hissed, pausing as we neared the lodestone. I could see it up ahead, a massive stone veined with rusty metal. It stood the size of a house. “Don't step closer, Master.”
He froze as he crouched ahead of me. He stared at the ground. “Las's putrid cum.”
“What?” Aingeal asked.
“Pit trap,” he said. He pulled out a dagger, prying at the meadow before him at the seam I spotted. “There's a thin board over the ground here with grass on top of it. Step on it, board breaks and drops you into a deep pit probably with spikes at the bottom.”
“There's more, Master,” I said, looking around the ground. “See the footprints of the treemen. They patrol a zig-zagging pattern through the last ring of stocks around the lodestone.”
“No prints here,” Sven said, staring at the ground. “They don't even try to step over it.”
“Why take the chance?” I said with a shrug. I climbed up onto a stock holding a blonde girl, drool running down her chin, her face slack. I stood on rough wooden frame holding the poor girl in place. The treemen were almost to the blazing illusion behind us. I studied the area, noting the trampled path.
“See a path?” Master asked.
“Of course I do,” I said, my tail swaying.
The heavy thud of the treemen came closer and closer. Nathalie whimpered beside me as the ground shook. Those dark shapes loomed so tall. They entered the light of the illusion, revealing their hoary appearance. They were gnarled and tall, their legs thick, their feet circular with root-like toes jutting in every direction.
“Just be quiet,” I whispered, my fingers dancing again, ready to modify my illusion. My left hand rubbed at my pussy, gathering more of my juices to paint with.
One of the treemen dipped his hand into a nearby pond. He scooped out water and threw it at the blazing pine tree. The water twinkled like diamonds before splashing against the tree. I added a hissing sound to the illusion and steam billowing from the flames.
I smiled, my fingers dancing as more and more water splashed at the tree. The three treemen arched it through the air. It splattered branches. I let some flames go out, leaving what looked like charged branches in the flame's wake. More and more steam rose, filling the air as the fire crackled in protest.
I switched hands, my right dry. My left danced as I kept focusing on my art. I shuddered, rubbing my pussy, delight surging through my body. I plunged all four of my fingers into my snatch, fighting my whimper as I coated them in my cream.
I could keep these three occupied all night I if had to. And since the sun never rose in Faerie, that would be a long time.
Anger beat through my heart. I thought I hated that bastard Prince Meinard before. But this... This endless field of men and women, even children, imprisoned in the stocks, their souls slaved to statues. They were forced to fight and fight and fight. What horrors did these poor people witness? Did they think they were in a nightmare? Trapped in stone. Unable to move except to march into battle and kill.
My hand clenched on my short sword as I followed Zanyia through the safe path, winding through the last circles of stocks. Through the people who had been imprisoned the longest. Years they'd spent here, stolen from their lives and loved ones.
My teeth ground.
My blood boiled.
“This will be answered, my husband,” Aingeal whispered from behind. Her hand rested on my shoulder, squeezing. “This will not go unpunished.”
“By the gods it won't,” I snarled. “By Gewin's bloody sword and Dauthaz's deathly touch, it won't.”
The closer we stalked to the Lodestone, the more my arms tingled. My hairs stood up on end. Energy radiated from it. I could feel it bleeding off the stone. So much magic danced about it. So many layers of enchantment wreathed it that even I could feel it.
Zanyia led us along the last ring, the stone just twenty feet away. She kept passing gaps in the stock that bore no footprints. The outline of pit traps ringed it until she reached one. A gap. She smiled and darted through it for the stone, scampering on all fours. I followed after, my heart thudding.
It was time for Prince Meinard's power base to crumble. Without his immortal army, he couldn't conquer the world.
Couldn't keep me from finding his throat and killing him.
“Aingeal,” I said. “Can you disrupt it?”
“Yes, I can,” she said with such fierceness. “It would be all my pleasure, my husband.”
I ripped my fingers out of my pussy, switching hands. I used up so much paint, but my cunt kept a ready supply of juices. The treemen had put out half the fire. But they were having trouble reaching the upper branches. I made the parts already drenched sizzle, the flames creeping back down to undo their progress.
The treemen groaned in frustration. I took such delight in creating this distraction. I couldn't wait to hear from Ava on how her father reacted when he realized his grand army of imbued statues were lifeless once again.
It made me quiver, my pussy squeezing down on my probing fingers, soaking them in more of my juices.
One of the treemen let out a frustrated bellow sounding like a massive oak tree groaning as it swayed in a storm. It slammed a foot into the ground before throwing a sheet of water high into the air.
And splashed just below the “flames.”
“Mistress,” Nathalie hissed.
“Shhh,” I said, my fingers dancing before me, the pussy juices slowly drying off my digits, transmuted by my Goddess into art.
“No, Mistress, look!” She pointed up.
I lifted my gaze to the top of the blazing tree. I frowned. Why was Aingeal fluttering around my illusion? But, no, this figure lacked her large breasts. It had a more solid build. Male. A cock bobbed before him. A handsome and dashing youth, golden hair and butterfly wings reflecting back the illusory fire. He stared down, his eyes blazing with silvery light, like twin moons shining above.
And then my illusion vanished. Suddenly, the pine tree no longer smoldered, no longer even appeared burned. It only looked wet, water dripping from the pine needles. I gasped in shock, my Goddess's prayer ruined. My art destroyed.
My heart hammered. I struggled to think, to wonder what to do next. My entire body tensed, fear demanding I run while my brain struggled to process what was happening. Did the fey know we were here?
Why was he even here. The pixie claimed Duke Gallchobhar was gone. Aingeal said he'd be at his palace.
“In the bush,” the fey said, his voice light, almost effeminate as he stared right down at me. “The whores are in there. Kill them.”
“M'lord,” creaked one of the treemen. He turned, facing us. The ground shook as he strode at us.