tagSci-Fi & FantasyExpect Flurries

Expect Flurries


Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2012


This story continues my first short introduction to characters in "Full Bloom in Winter". It is not required to have read the first to enjoy this story, but it always adds to the overall depth. :)

Please be warned the main characters are "Lawful Evil" for a reason--mostly in that they do not believe they are doing evil. ;)



"Will it hurt?"

"A little, perhaps. I'll try to make it quick."

"Liar. ...what if I don't want you to?"

"Why are you smiling like that, Lady Rousse?"

"Because you are lying. I can tell."

"You're growing fangs again."

"Am I? Hm."

"I would hazard your Lord Father wishes you to keep your alter form intact while you're here. For your protection, my Lady."

"You're no fun, my dear merchant, do you know that? You have closed the door and have drawn the window curtains, not even my escort can see or hear much."

There was a pause in the conversation and a sound like a whip lashing in the air, preparing to strike in full.

He cleared his throat. "Your form is...you have that....um....that—"

"It's a tail, Master Creed. You've seen it before, don't you remember? It was coiled around your throat, as I recall, strong as a constrictor...."

"Please....don't remind me."

"I'll lean back then. You can get on with our business. Do you need me to spread wider?"

"No, that...is enough, Lady Rousse."

"You have a steady hand, I'm sure. You won't pierce my nub, right? Only the hood."

"Of course, Lady."

"How can you be sure if you can't see it?"

"I'm sorry, my Lady? I don't understand."

"Maybe if you could see it, you would be sure to avoid it with your needle. I want your piercing, Master Creed, I love your work. I want your magic. And the thought of your fashioning that ring just for me, and here we are preparing at last to attach it...makes me tingle inside. But you need to rub the area a little first, don't you?"

"Well, I do need to clean the area a bit..."

"Good. That's good. Oo, a delicate touch, Master Creed. Feels nice. But my nub is still hiding...I'm concerned you'll tag it trying to get my hood...."

"I'm a professional, Lady Rousse."

"And you want to protect that reputation at all costs, right, Master Creed? Surely you wouldn't want to distress me, so I would tell all my friends about your crass procedure. Wouldn't it be so much better to be solidly, absolutely *sure*?"


"Just a taste, Master Creed. It is a...*reasonable* request, isn't it?"


"*Very* reasonable."

"Of....course it is, Lady Rousse. Very reasonable."

"Good. Then suck me. That's it. Good. Oh....ah....yeah! Go on. Keep going. A little more....Yes. Yes....Oh, such a tongue, Master Creed! Does your wife realize it? Does she reap such benefits? Lucky, lucky woman...Oh....more....if you stop I'll choke your very breath from you—ah! Ouch. Careful. Did that scare you, Master Creed? Come, now, my favorite tradesman, you still have a job to do. My nub's not hiding anymore. Look at her. She's quite delighted to see you! Now...my ring?"


"Don't shake, Master Creed. Don't miss. You don't want to miss. Take a deep breath. That's good. Good....good....."

"......h-hold still......."

"Aaaeeeiiii! OH! Yes!"



Deep breathing.

"Lady, are you alright...?"

"Oh, Master Creed ...that was wonderful. Just let me touch it....my, it's perfect. Shining gold....I love it."

"Lady, you...are already healed?"

"And ready to use it. Kiss me...."

"Ow!! Your fangs!"

"You've got me so excited, Master Creed."

"No, not the tail again—"

"I won't kill you."


"Double the price for your work, then. I have to be sure the ring works before I leave."


"Double the gold, merchant. Double the gold."

"Yes, my Lady...."


A lovely young woman left Master Creed's "Decorative Delights" in high spirits that night. She was human by all appearances, honey-brown hair elegantly coiled and leaf-green eyes twinkling from beneath a warm winter cowl. Her good quality dress, her manners and her grace, and even her white, straight teeth plainly showed a noble-born Lady in the city of Winter Home.

A young blonde man armed with a sword stayed close beside her, clearly a manservant in his simpler dress and his deference to her, walking one half-pace behind her.

After a short time, however, she slowed and took his arm. She giggled, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts. The young man kept watch over the cobbled streets, noting the carriages, groups of workers and couriers, and the many warm lanterns glowing in the glass windows. They were in North Ward, a better part of the city too expensive for most residents of Winter Home to be able to afford, but it didn't mean there could not still be a threat to his Lady.

"I heard voices, my Mistress," he said softly. "I thought I'd secured the place before he began?"

"It was only his wife. She suffered only a few moments of confusion before taking my suggestion."

"Suggestion, Mistress?"

"That she lift her skirts and join us, that she enjoy her husband's talented tongue since it was free. I was only using his lower half, after all."

The blonde man's face flushed a little at the imagery. "The ring works, I take it?"

Her green eyes rolled briefly heavenward, her tongue flicking her bottom lip. "Ohhh, yes, I'd say so. She did not resist long. Her husband took more persuasion prior to the piercing. It is telling of the enhancement and I could feel the warmth and the magic."

Her companion was quiet for a few steps as the chilled winter's day wind blew against their backs, nudging their cloaks forward ahead of their boots.

"Are you jealous, Tamton?" she asked, a tiny smirk on her sex-reddened lips.

"No, Mistress," he answered readily. "You do as you please; I am here to serve you."

"What were you thinking about, then?"

Tamton licked his lips briefly. "That I was aroused by your description, Mistress. His wife was comely but...rigid. Proper. If your magic worked on her so well, she must have appeared much... different."

"Squatting over her husband's face with her skirts bunched up to her waist, with her hair loose down her back, you mean?" Lady Indra teased, her smile showing just that hint of pointed fang as she looked up at him again. "She was rubbing a glistening and decidedly hairy snatch over his nose and mouth."

Tamton flushed deeper and could not contain a smile as he nodded. "Yes, Mistress. Exactly like that."

Indra laughed in delight, causing two men in dark long coats to glance back over their shoulder as they passed.

"You draw too much attention, Mistress," Tamton murmured, keeping the men in his peripheral vision until he saw them enter a high-end tavern.

"I am following the rules."

"Aye. Your Lord Father knows well about following the rules, my Mistress."

Indra sighed and rolled her eyes toward the grey sky once again, this time in annoyance. "True to the letter of the law or the spirit of it, but we always follow it. We aren't like the demon-touched, who can't manage plotting to lay their dung in the same place twice."

"Of course, Mistress," Tamton said with a bit of a laugh. "I've witnessed the power of your heritage, and they say your Lord Father has been around for a long time. As such, he is wise in the protection he places around you. Other enemies are not so addle-brained as an Abyssal imp."

Indra was silent and the smile left her pretty human face for a few moments. Tamton was probably the only servant with which she conversed this way. He had been the first human man—indeed the first real lover—that she had taken during the overwhelming lust of her First Ardeur, when she'd finally come into her adult magic.

She knew the taller man remembered being bound to her desire while under her Father's watchful eye, and he remembered mounting her quite roughly, first in her hungry sex and then impaling her backside until she was reamed raw. He had been much more selfish in the way he rode her body than he could have done at any other time and expect to continue breathing, much less to continue serving House Rousse. He never mentioned it and, from what she had seen scanning his surface thoughts, he never reminisced about it—not unless she ordered him to and then it made him uncomfortable.

He was loyal and content with his role as her bodyguard and companion. Wherever she went, he would go as well.

For anyone else, she would have considered a creative punishment for even suggesting that she was taking her Father's advice too lightly. Tamton, however, could sometimes be forgiven of such things.

The diabolic elf still gave him a sardonic grin through her illusion. "If he wanted me not to draw any attention at all, my altered form would be that of a mousey, shorn-haired dumpling tending a hearth."

She drew her elegantly-gloved hand out to the side, parting her cloak and showing him a glimpse of the entrancing curves beneath her relatively thin, pale blue gown—curves that were not so altered from her true self.

Tamton's soft brown eyes admired her, as she wanted him to admire her, and he nodded, swallowing against a dry mouth. "I do believe he wants you to...practice your control, my Mistress. And you have my help, should you ever need it."

She smiled at him then looked ahead, up, and around, her cheeks blushing becomingly in the cold. She arched an eyebrow. "When did Talabrina gain a foothold in North Ward?"

Tamton looked to where she indicated, having to search for several moments before seeing a tiny, wooden carving that might've been a symbol of the Light Goddess hanging in the low corner of a top window of a two-story townhouse. That she had seen it at all was a wonder to him.

He shrugged. "Plainly not a church. A gathering place or just a misguided trader?"

"I believe will find out," she said casually, though her eyes narrowed.

They went to knock on the front door.


Tamton saw the ease with which his Mistress entered the stranger's house, appearing the well-bred, generous Lady curious to learn more about the symbol of Talabrina. The normal, unassuming man in regular breeches, sweater, and house coat was a courteous host but admitted to nothing, indeed, seemed genuinely confused as to her questions. From that the blonde could see and hear, his Mistress had no reason to suspect him of anything.

Lady Indra, however, had inherited several of her Father's mental talents, and Tamton knew that she'd seen something in the other man's mind that made her stay and smile up at the taller man the way she did.

She smiled like a devil scenting the brimstone pen.

"I've never seen you before, young lady, or recognize your supposed reference," the man said, smoothing his plain clothes nervously. "I thank you for drawing my attention to the oddity in my window, but I think perhaps that you should leave. Even if I could tell you more about it, I believe you are misrepresenting yourself; you are not here to find solace in Talabrina's light."

An odd choice of words.

"There is very little light in Winter Home, Priest," Indra replied, smiling sweetly as she traced two fingers slowly along the smooth ribbon of her bodice.

The man's mouth tightened at the title, but he did not deny it as he was distracted, his blue eyes flicking to the Lady's hands.

"I wonder that you try here at all," Indra continued. "They are all lost souls, given over to the Dominion or to Siqueness Herself. Solace can still be found, however..."

The knot at the top had been undone and as she breathed, the criss-crossing thread across her torso loosened and slowly unraveled, showing more of her breasts and the space between them. The Priest could not keep his eyes on her face for long, his middle-aged face flushing deeply.

Tamton wondered that the man still did not deny being ordained. Something she had gleaned from his thoughts, no doubt.

As she breathed harder, staring at him intently, he said hoarsely, "No soul is truly lost, my child. It is always worth trying."

"If only to know your weaknesses, true, and you are very weak here. I'm sure you'll come to know them well." Delicate fingers ran along the edge of her bodice, caressing paler, smooth skin and tugging down gently to reveal more of her breasts, to tease at the possible reveal of a flush nipple.

"You're staring, Priest. Do you want a taste?"

He forced his eyes up, trembling as sweat started to show on his forehead, and he pursed his thin lips again before wheezing unconvincingly, "I pity you, child."

Indra chuckled low in her throat, tugging off her gloves and loosening to let her cloak drop from her shoulders to the floor. Tamton felt his sex growing turgid at the sensuous sound of her voice and the shush of her clothing.

Though he couldn't see them, he could almost imagine her wings stretch themselves after being curled beneath the cloak; her aura was becoming stronger even as her stance grew more threatening. He was a few paces away watching the door and listening for anyone in the back, but he could feel it like waves of warm, sweet water. It must be drowning the Priest...

Indra in her human form drew more of her bodice open, pulling it just off her shoulders and slowly revealing her naked, pink-tipped breasts.

"Have a taste. Just one. You were a babe once; pretend you are young again and suckling your mother's teat."

Her voice was soothing and cooed at him constantly until, at last, Tamton watched the salt-and-pepper head dip down, hesitantly at first, but soon enough Indra moaned as his mouth attached to her left nipple and started to suck. Slowly the taller man he sank to his knees, beefy hands going to her waist to hold himself upright as he feasted on her flesh.

"Yes, Priest," she gasped, "yes...."

Tamton moved through the room to draw a few of the drapes which had been open; they did not need anyone spying so easily, particularly if Indra's illusion faded at some point in her seduction. He was doing his best to stay on watch with a near-painful erection, but he knew when his Mistresses reached up to undo two oddly-placed buttons just above each of her shoulder blades that she was releasing those entrancing wings that he could not yet see.

Her light blue dress began to slide down and the man tugged at it himself after his Mistress freed her hands from the sleeves. It hung at her waist, where her belt held it for her, revealing no appropriate underclothes at all. No chemise, no shift, no corset. The Priest moaned and started kissing her flat, naked belly, inhaling her scent.

"N-no..." he groaned, gritting his teeth and whispering the name of his goddess as if for strength.

Indra only laughed.

The Priest was well and truly captured when he made the first aggressive act against his Mistress, gripping her arms and forcing her to turn around, pushing her toward a well-crafted mirror hung above a sturdy parlor table.

"Look! Look at yourself!" the Priest demanded, and they both looked at the young woman in the mirror, her entire torso exposed and her nipples hard, red, and wet from his saliva.

"Have you no shame, no modesty? Who taught you to act this way, to open your dress for a perfect stranger? You have more worth than to act like a whore!"

Tamton did not intervene yet though he did draw his blade in case he needed it. Violence only fed the strength of her aura, he knew from personal experience, as the prey's own strong emotion was used against him. He could see the Priests's own erection straining against his trousers and brushing his Mistress's backside.

Indra chuckled softly, smiling sweetly once again over her shoulder. She was of smaller stature than the man, but whatever he saw in her eyes had him rigid with fear for a moment before she turned around and threw her arms around his broad shoulders and kissed him, pressing her breasts into him. After a moment of resistance, the mortal fell back into touching her, answering her kiss as if he could never be satisfied.

The Priest pulled up her skirt, showing her bare legs a moment before clutching and squeezing at her thighs and buttocks beneath the material, in spite of his moans of horror and agonized desire.

"No petticoat?" he growled accusingly, "no smallclothes, whore?"

Indra shook her head with a laugh and grabbed his left hand, putting it between her legs. "Just hot, slick flesh, Priest. The reason Men even wish to continue living."

"Oh, Goddess, help me," he whimpered, his head lowered, as he kept his hand immersed in the warmth between her thighs—even as she loosened his trousers, pulling them down his hips and leaving them bunched around his thighs as she played happily with his erection.

Next Indra laid herself back against the parlor table, skirts up and pale thighs open and leading to a bright, reddened sex, cleanly shaven and smooth. He saw her brand-new piercing glinting with gold right above her pleasure nub as he removed his wet fingers. The Priest shook his head in confusion, breathing raggedly as his eyes widened, staring at her.

"But you are no child..."

"If you had ever visited a true whore, Priest, you'd know that not all of them keep the hair they grow. And no compliment for my jewelry? A fine gentleman you are." She laughed sadistically. "Taste me. You'll find it's much more pleasant to kiss being so smooth."

It took a bit more persuading, but Tamton watched his Mistress finally achieve her goal: the man's head bent down as if in prayer as he inhaled her scent. He wavered before lightly licking at the hood ring, jostling it and making her squeak in delight. Then finally, the Priest's mouth, once murmuring prayers of self-denial, indulged fully in sucking at the Fey'ri's naked netherlips, thrusting his tongue full into her tempting hole and playing with the metal piercing by turns.

"Oh, yes, Priest, yes!" she cried, ecstatic.

Her magic flared within the room and Tamton saw her true form start to emerge; the pale, human skin darkened to a true, hot red, and her most sensitive skin—her mouth, nipples, and the lips the Priest now kissed—all turned a darker shade of purple. Claws and fangs grew out, sharp and threatening, and her prehensile tail uncoiled from beneath her, swishing side-to-side excitedly. Her hair turned the color of merlot wine as her eyes filled in entirely with shining yellow, and her very face changed as her eyes became larger and slanted, her ears grew pointed, and her purple, leathery wings stretched full out to the sides, the right one brushing the wall.

Tamton could feel the heat radiating from her; she rarely felt the deep cold of Winter Home when she was indulging herself and feeding her magic.

"Mount me, Priest," she commanded, her voice smooth and charismatic, the irresistible purr of a very playful angel promising a good time. "I am aching as badly as you, I need you."

With one last kiss to her sex, he rose up and unsteady legs, bracing his weight on his hands by using the table's surface by Indra's hips. He wobbled a little, poking his member at her with little coordination, and she snickered at his confused state before guiding him herself, reaching between them to wedge the soft mushroom head at her pulsing entrance.

"Push," she whispered, her voice lingering in the air.

He did, groaning loudly as he sank into her to the hilt, and he immediately began pumping her greedily, stroking her hot body inside and out.

Tamton noted the moment when the Priest truly saw Indra's form, when his eyes widened and swept over the changes, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. But he kept thrusting into her, humping like the animal he was; he didn't stop. His Mistress had him enthralled; they coupled for a good long while, the wet squelch of him plowing her sex torturing him more and more.

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