Succubus

From where I stood, she looked fetching. A sprinkle of dark curls, now plastered to her skin, framed the slit of her sex, the petals of which were still sealed together. As she shifted slightly and the muscles of her bottom rippled, the tight ring of her anus winked. I could feel my member stir against the silk of my loin cloth and come alive.

The four bearers who had been standing, still as statues, as their charge struggled futilely against her bonds, now began to stir. One of them walked over to stand behind me, two of them moved to either side of the bound girl while the last stood quietly near her head. They did nothing further. It was as though they were waiting for a signal to begin some ancient rite, for some propitious alignment of the stars. The cool breeze had stiffened her nipples into delicious peaks and a tiny little whimper escaped her lips.

The flaps of one of the tents stirred and Cleo emerged. She was wearing a long tunic of white silk, held together by a brooch – a single uncut emerald encased in a delicate cage of gold - tucked away snugly in the valley between her breasts. Her limbs were otherwise bare, with no ornament, but she looked radiant. Her face was actually quite plain – her nose a bit too long, her eyes perhaps too close, her chin a little too strong – but for me she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And from the whispered murmurs of awe that fluttered around the circle, I knew that I wasn't the only one who thought so.

She had a feline grace that compelled attention. It was quite simple actually. She was born to hunt and those simpering women who marveled at the perfection of her limbs - they were born to be prey. As she strode forward, aware of the fifty pairs of eyes that followed her every movement, a tiny little smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a smile that was almost a smirk. And I felt a small stab of pity for the naked girl laid out before my eyes. I knew what Cleo was capable of and I hoped her new plaything would survive the evening.

Cleo stood for a moment quietly regarding the naked form spread-eagled on the silk cushion. She gently smoothed back the girl's hair from her forehead and asked her name. The girl's lips were dry and she had trouble speaking. She licked her lips wet before replying.

"Imi."

"Imi ..." Cleo echoed, rolling the name on her tongue, tasting it, "it's a beautiful name."

I doubt she thought so, but she was evidently in a mellow mood. It bode well for the girl. And then Cleo nodded ... almost imperceptibly. One of the slaves acknowledged that command with a slight incline of her head and then dipped her left shoulder. There was a soft rustle as her robe slid off her body to leave her naked. It was the first time that I had really looked at her and I realized I knew her ... vaguely. She was a favorite of Cleo's and I was beginning to understand why. I searched in my memory for a name. It didn't help that her nakedness was terribly distracting. She looked delicious. I closed my eyes to shut out that vision and her name came to me. Kiya. I felt unaccountably pleased. I guess I was scrambling for some sense of the normal and the commonplace on that strange night. When I opened my eyes, I saw Kiya lean forward and place her palms on the surface of the rock. And then, she was flowing onto it like water. I marveled at her grace.

She loped forward on her hands and knees until her face was level with the naked exposed sex of the bound slave. Her knees slid apart as she lowered herself inch by inch over the naked body that squirmed beneath her. She knew the effect that she was having on the young girl. Imi moaned at the vision that now hovered over her face – the open gleaming sex of the older woman, the lips swollen and parted, the rim of Kiya's hole glistening with her juices.

Kiya looked at me for a long lingering moment, a smile playing on her lips and then ... she winked ... before her face dipped towards the heat that was radiating from Imi's core. I watched, fascinated, as her tongue emerged like a sinuous serpent from between her full lips. The pink tip flickered before it softly kissed the tiny fold of skin where the lips of her victim's sex joined. The young girl shuddered at that first delicate touch, so evanescent, like a barely whispered sigh that hovers for a moment in the air and then melts into the wind.

And then the pink tip eased forward, gentle and remorseless, parting the folded petals of Imi's sex. When Kiya was done and she lifted her head from between Imi's thighs, I felt a tremor run through my body. Imi had been laid open, not fully, but just enough for the gleaming darkness of her skin to be interrupted by a thin sliver of shiny pink. Kiya looked down at her handiwork for a moment. And then she delicately gripped the soft fleshy wings of Imi's sex between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and peeled her open.

The young girl wailed as she was exposed. The muscles on the insides of her thighs stood out like cords as she tried without success to close her legs against the eager eyes that drank in every inch of her ... the soft petals of her sex which were spread open by Kiya's fingers, the oyster pink of her secret flesh, the shiny wet pearl that was slipping out of its fleshy hood and the entrance to the mysteries of her body ... so innocent and so inviting.

And then Kiya began to feast. She began to lave Imi's wide open pussy with soft strokes of her tongue, carefully skirting the tight little knot of her clit and the entrance to her tunnel, now glistening with her juices. Her tongue patiently learned the geography of Imi's sex – the thick flesh of her outer lips, the more delicate structure of her inner ones and the soft wet valley in between, until the young girl could no longer bear the exquisite torture. Imi's head strained upwards in a desperate lunge, aching for a taste of the sweet flesh that was poised tantalizingly above her. But swift hands on her shoulders held her down. She was to have no relief, no respite. And I watched, fascinated, as her sex was awakened, slowly, methodically.

Imi was now leaking like a mountain spring, her thighs slick and shining. Some of her arousal had dribbled into the valley of her bottom and coated the crinkled rosebud of her anus. Kiya drew back a little from her delicious feast and cooled it with a gentle breath. And then her tongue flickered again, running along the wet rim of Imi's entrance. She licked away the wetness that had gathered there. It was quickly replenished. Kiya probed softly, gently widening Imi's orifice, but careful not to plunge in too deep. I shivered. I knew whose privilege it was to be that night to plunder the soft welcoming depths of that ripe young body. I knew who would stretch open that tight little hole and sink into that wetness.

Kiya's lips nuzzled their way back along the wet crease of Imi's cunt until they brushed against the stiff little stem of flesh that was struggling out of its sheath. Kiya gently eased the hood of Imi's clit all the way back with her lips and then softly sucked the engorged nub. The naked body beneath her thrashed, unable to bear this new assault. Soft sounds of pure yearning were dribbling from Imi's lips as Kiya set her on fire.

Imi's hips were now churning, her tight little bottom jerking off the cushion as she offered her wet yearning cunt as a gift to those lips that were ravaging her. I could sense her desperation and I willed Kiya on ... to finally break the sweet young body that she was feasting on and to set her free. But it was not to be. Kiya was as merciless as I feared she would be.

Her lips clung softly to the sweet little polyp of Imi's clit without doing more, just trapping her ... in a prison of softness and heat. And then, when even that seemed enough to tip the girl over, Kiya let her go. Imi's clit was now fully exposed, its pink length fat and engorged. Imi whimpered as she was denied the warmth of Kiya's mouth and she was abandoned to the cool evening breeze that swept across the sands. I could only imagine the sweet torment that Imi suffered as delicate fingers of air swirled around her molten core.

And then the warmth returned as Kiya softly drew Imi's seething cunt into her mouth ... all of it ... drowning it in wetness. Imi moaned as the new sensations ... of wetness and heat ... set her nerve endings on fire. Surely, I thought, surely now, Kiya would take pity on her. I could see Kiya's lips work as she rolled Imi's flesh inside her mouth, tasting it, teasing it, laving it. Imi's body arched as she climbed towards her release. And then when she seemed poised to shatter into a million pieces, Kiya allowed the sodden flesh of Imi's cunt to slowly dribble out of her mouth. Kiya tugged on the fat outer lips ... stretching them ... before allowing them to snap back wetly against the soft pillow of Imi's curls. The cry that erupted from Imi's throat was no longer human. It was a desperate plea for the torment to end, for the ache to be eased.

But in that place, there was no mercy. Imi's torture aroused no pity in her audience ... only desire and a hunger that they had by then moved to requite. I glanced around the circle and saw bodies now flung about in abandon. In front of me, I saw a woman, her body taut like a bow, her thighs thrown wide apart, her fingers, glistening with her own juices, plunging in and out of her cunt. Her free hand fondled absently the quivering breast of the slave next to her, who was on her hands and knees, her body given into the keeping of two women who were exploring her hungrily. One of them had plunged three fingers into the woman's sex, filling her, stretching her. The other spread apart the cheeks of the woman's bottom and while I watched, eased open the soft dark orifice of her anus and slowly slid a finger into her depths. I shuddered at the sight and looked away, only for my eyes to light on the vision of Imi's cunt, now split open like an over ripe fruit. I felt myself thicken, my swollen member now thrusting urgently against the soft silk of my loin cloth.

"She's ready," I heard Cleo whisper and Kiya slid smoothly off the stone. Imi was once again alone. She looked heartbreakingly vulnerable, unable to conceal her desire or to close her body against a world that was ready to claim it. I felt a rush of protectiveness, but mixed with that was a hunger that I could no longer deny. I wanted that sweet cunt. It was simple, utterly elemental.

Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of silk. And then the warmth of a naked body molding itself against mine. A husky voice whispered silkily in my ear ... "I'm Amunet" ... and then slender arms reached around me to whip off my loin cloth. A collective gasp rippled around the circle as I was unveiled. I was hard. My cock, long and thick, trembled with need. A thick drop of liquid had gathered at its tip. When my cock twitched, it dropped, drawn earthwards by its own weight, melting into the golden sand.

She pressed herself against me, the stiff peaks of her nipples burning into my skin. The damp curls of her pubes insinuated themselves into the valley between my cheeks as her fingers wrapped around my length. They wouldn't go around. Amunet moaned as my cock pulsed like a heartbeat against her palm. Kiya grabbed a fistful of Imi's hair and jerked her head upwards so that she could behold her fate. Imi ran her eyes down my nakedness and then as her glance drifted down to my waist, her eyes widened. A soft little moan escaped her throat – half gasp, half gurgle. There was fear in it, but also desire and the raw, aching need of a body that she had long ceased to control.

Amunet gently dipped the tip of my cock into the wet warmth of Imi's cunt and began to work it, up and down, round and about, painting her flesh with my need. She was driving us both crazy. My hips had begun to jerk of their own accord, my body seeking the warmth of Imi's. And she seemed to want the same thing – to engulf me in her flesh. Her hips had risen off the stone, her wet inviting entrance blindly seeking its fate. Amunet giggled softly at Imi's desperation. The soft tinkle of her laughter sounded out of place. It grated against our need. But it still turned us on.

And then as our bodies ground together, the tip of my cock caught against the slippery rim of her hole and held. Imi froze, terrified that any movement would dissolve that fleeting promise of relief. I eased forward gently and as I did, the rim of her orifice draped itself softly over my tip. She felt like warm wet silk. I paused for a moment to take a deep breath. I wanted to take her slowly, to ease, inch by inch, into that velvet glove. But I knew that would be unkind. I had to take her quickly. I had to fill her with my flesh before she could even sense the pain.

I felt Amunet's palms cup my buttocks gently as my muscles tightened. And then I thrust forward, driving my diamond hard flesh into Imi's soft yielding one. Her body jerked as she was impaled. And then I began to fuck her, slowly, deliberately, mercilessly. My nostrils dilated at the heady scent that wafted up from the junction of our bodies, a scent like no other - of sweat, of blood and the sweetness of her juices.

The soft mounds of her breasts quivered with each thrust. Her eyes had rolled back in her head and her lips were softly parted, tiny little noises leaking from them as she was taken. I was filled with a wild sense of exhilaration as I plundered the sweet young body that had been laid open for me. I felt my body begin to throb, its edges blurring as I fed on Imi's pleasure. My flesh began to ripple inside her, kneading the muscles of her cunt. For Imi, it was like the sun had been plucked from the sky and thrust between her legs. She gasped and her body stiffened as it finally raced towards its release.

I felt a slender hand curl around my neck. When I turned my head, I saw that it was Kiya... with that enigmatic smile on her face. She leaned forward to kiss me softly and then I saw her fingers reach into the wet marsh of Imi's cunt and delicately tease the throbbing stem that quivered between the folds. Imi screamed. And then shattered, her body jerking in its bonds as she was seized by a pleasure that she could scarcely understand.

I rode out the storm patiently, waiting for her body to quieten, before taking her again, my body coursing in and out of her. Her hips responded and she danced for me, seeking, clutching, squeezing. I looked up and met Cleo's eyes. She looked pleased. She flashed me a quick smile of approval. She held my gaze as she slowly, deliberately reached up to pluck away the brooch that held her tunic in place. And then she was naked.

She stepped up to the stone slab and placed a cool hand against Imi's cheek. The young girl looked up at Cleo and moaned her hunger and the joy that was rippling through her body at that exquisite taking. And her eyes widened at seeing Cleo naked. She watched as her queen was raised onto the slab beside her. She watched as her queen straddled her head, smooth muscled thighs on either side of Imi's face. Cleo slowly lowered herself. And then Imi's universe was blotted out by wet flesh and the lingering scent of pussy juice. Her world narrowed into the taste of her mistress and my flesh thrusting in and out of her cunt.

Imi's tongue emerged from between her lips to bathe Cleo's clit, to worship it, to woo it. A soft little sigh escaped from Cleo's lips as her body arched and rippled to contain the waves of pleasure that were beginning to radiate from her center. And yet, even in the throes of her passion, Cleo was gentle with this girl who was serving her so eagerly. Cleo's hands cupped Imi's breasts softly and her thumbs grazed her nipples, stroking her. I think it was that tenderness that tipped me over, the vision of a queen treasuring the compliant body of her slave.

Amunet sensed that I was near. Her fingers curled around the base of my shaft and she pulled me out. She held my slippery length, cradling it as I exploded, painting Imi's body with the creamy rivers of my release. The last jets landed softly on the open flower of Imi's cunt and trailed downwards along the rim of her spasming hole and into the crack of her ass. The two slaves who had been waiting patiently by Imi's side now leaned down and their tongues trailed over Imi's body, washing her, cleaning her. One of them gently pried Imi's cheeks apart and ran her tongue into the crease, swirling her tongue around the darkness of her forbidden core, tasting my spend. She ignored Imi's muffled protests which were drowned in the wetness of Cleo's cunt. For Imi, the night was far from over. But for me it was.

Amunet held me still, her fingers squeezing the last drops of cum from my still rampant cock. Her body was still glued to mine, her cheek resting against my shoulder, "Come to me tomorrow," she whispered urgently, "Find me ... in the quarter of the slaves."

I closed my eyes and drew in the scents of the palace. It was a busy, exotic mix and in it ... somewhere ... was Amunet. I followed the warm fragrance of her body and found her in a quiet corner, in a sheltered alcove that overlooked a pool with water lilies. She turned when she heard my footsteps.

There was no need for words. We plucked at each other's robes with trembling fingers until we were naked. I was already hard and she ... she was already wet. I cupped the warm, fleshy globes of her bottom and lifted her upwards. She rose with me and wrapped her slender legs around my waist. My cock sought the wet warmth of her and she groaned in frustration as I missed her entrance, my velvety tip skating along her crease. She willed herself into stillness, holding her breath as I fumbled and then, I was inside her.

I moaned as I was enveloped in her warmth, my hard throbbing flesh soaking in her juices. And then I began to fuck her. I lifted her almost free until only the tip of my shaft was buried inside her before I let her go. Her flesh slapped against mine and she moaned as my cock nudged the mouth of her womb. As she fell, her throbbing clit painted a hot furrow along the length of my shaft. She wrapped her arms around my neck as she rose and fell, her hips driving frantically, almost as if she were trying to swallow me whole. But she was tiring, the movements of her hips becoming more ragged.

I turned around and backed her into a wall, pinning her body. Now I had more purchase. I pulled as far back as her legs locked around my body would allow and then I drove my hips forward, skewering her. She grunted at the impact and her eyes snapped open. I held her eyes as I fucked her and reveled in the pleasure that I saw in them ... the pleasure and ... the gratitude. I could see how hungry she was ... to be owned, to be used.

When her eyes began to glaze over, I knew she was close. I reached beneath our coupling bodies and drenched my fingers in the juices that were dripping from her cunt. And then, I placed the wet tip of one forefinger against the crinkled star of her anus and pushed. As I slid into her tight passage, she shuddered. Small, mewling noises were dripping from her lips. When my finger began to move, fucking in and out of her tight little bottom, she finally broke. Her body spasmed, her muscles milking my cock and the finger trapped in her ass. There was a scream bubbling up from her throat. She killed it ... by burying her teeth in my shoulder. She bit down until the skin broke. My nostrils trembled at the sharp scent of blood and I battled the images that bubbled up to the surface of my consciousness – the clash of arms, the fall of kingdoms, death in myriad forms and shapes.

The sharp stench of death sharpened my need and I pounded the soft wet tissues of her cunt, which were already rippling in the aftermath of her release. She held on desperately as she was claimed. I could smell her fear. But it was mixed with exhilaration. The promise of violence that rippled just beneath the surface of my skin and the sense of being gripped in the vortex of a force that she could not control only sharpened her pleasure. And when I finally yielded, thick jets of cum splashing against her soft spongy walls, she came again.