The Egg of Immorality - Ch. 01

The Egg of Immorality is book 4 in my Thirst for Power series. It contains a whole lot of topics your momma warned you to stay away from: Mind Control, Domination, Demons, a Succubus, an Imp, Magic, Regular sex, Oral sex, Anal sex, and possibly a few other kinds of sex. The chapters are a little shorter than past books of this series have been, so please bear with me as I release them.

The Egg of Immorality begins a few months into the exploration of the wilds in the northeast of Kroth after the ending of Wizard. To start the Thirst for Power series fresh, please look for Enchanted. Thank you for reading and please look up my profile page if you have any questions, concerns, or wish to reach out to me.

"Arise, my champion."

John's eyelids flew open and he sucked in a warm breath of air filled with the smell of musk and spice. It was desire that filled him, both his lungs and his blood. It raced through his veins, burning away the last vestiges of sleep and forcing his considerable length to stiffen beneath his robe. He went from surprised to aroused to uncomfortable in the time it took for the darkness to draw back as a gigantic pair of demonic wings unfurled from around him.

"Mistress Beytrixxa," John breathed.

She arose from the chair she sat on. John blinked, distracted for the briefest instant by the throne's lifelike carvings of men and woman naked and writhing in carnal acts. He looked back to her and saw her wings were gone. Drawn back so entirely they'd disappeared. Instead she approached him. She wore a black minidress that had a scoop neck front that hung so low as to show off her glistening muscled belly. Her breasts jiggled with each step. Her hips swayed, pulling focus away from the thigh high black boots she wore. As high as the boots where, they still left several inches of red-hued thigh on display.

"It has been too long since you've called upon me, my champion," she said.

John's mouth was dry and no amount of swallowing seemed to help. "Forgive me, Mistress, I've been busy. We had been hard pressed crossing the wilderness and--"

Beytrixxa was there, towering over him even though a moment ago she'd been a dozen steps away if not more. John fell silent as she stared up at her. She was beyond beautiful. She was the demonic embodiment of lust and passion and beauty. She stared down at him while his eyes dipped beneath the bottom of her short dress to glimpse what lay beneath. He could feel the heat radiating from her pussy. It called to him, urging him to worship it. To worship her. Thinking was hard, unless it involved how he could please her.

She bent down and extended one finger with a long, sharp, black fingernail on the end of it. The tip of the nail she traced around the tent in his robe. A twist of her finger dug the point of her nail into his robe. She tugged and left a gash torn in the magical fabric. His manhood slipped free and looked angry and throbbing in the infernal red light of the dreamscape she commanded.

"No excuses, champion," she said. "Feed me. Now."

John opened his mouth and then lost track of reality. When his vision returned he found her sitting on his hips, his length buried to the hilt inside of her molten cunt. His mouth was still open but he couldn't find words. The way her supernatural body worked and squeezed and massaged and inflamed him. She'd never done this to him before. She's teased and tormented and even drawn an orgasm from him with nothing but a look or a word. This time she rode him and filled him with a fire and a pleasure that was more than he could describe. More than he could handle.

"Yes... You've grown powerful," Beytrixxa said while rocking and writhing on top of him. "Pity you haven't met more worthy lovers in your travels."

"Yes. Mistress," John moaned. Her words helped him struggle to focus. "I've... I've been saving them."

She nodded and reached out the run her fingers down his chest. Her nails dug in, parting both his robe and leaving cuts in his skin that welled with blood. The stinging made him cry out. His hips drove up, eager to drive himself deeper inside of her. Scarcely any time had passed but he needed to fill her. Needed to find his release. Something was stopping him. Not his magic... not with her. No, she was stopping him. She controlled his release.

Beytrixxa smiled at him and bent forward. "You understand, yes?"

"Yes, Mistress," he panted.

"Do not deny me, champion. Not now. Not ever."

"Never," he agreed and humped up into her, eager to please her.

She looked down at the blood scratches on his chest and tilted her head so he could see her face clearly. She opened her grinning lips and extended her tongue-- her long, sinuous tongue-- and licked each furrow from bottom to top. Her tongue seemed to be made of molten sandpaper as it passed over his rent flesh, but it only reminded him of what he'd told his followers: The only difference between pain and pleasure was intensity.

Beytrixxa gathered the blood and swallowed it with a shudder. "You will go west, John. There is an island there. An island that you, I think, will do well on."

"As you wish, Mistress," John agreed. He would have agreed to anything at that point. The way her muscles milked and teased him. The way he needed to please her so he could unleash the pressure and the power gathered in his loins for her.

"They have a great power there, John. A power that they do not deserve. Show them what true power is like. Teach them the proper order of things and who they should worship in order to gain that which they lust for."

John nodded. "It will be done!"

"Now give me what you've been saving for me, John. Feed me," She commanded. She ground herself down on John, bruising his hips and making him start to worry she would forget their relationship. He almost felt as though she was going to swallow him whole, and not just his cock that was erupting inside of her.

John tried-- and failed-- to grunt as he exploded inside of her. The power of his seed and the magical energy from the souls he'd claimed with his spear burned through him up filled her.

Beytrixxa arched her back and hissed, "Yesssss," as the energy rushed up into her and sated her infernal thirst. She pulled from him, her muscles milking him dry and then some. His body went slack and he was dimly aware of her wings returning and curling around him. The darkness returned and he knew no more.

* * * *

John gasped awake. He lifted his head and shoulders a little and felt... strange. There was a tightness in his chest. A wet warmth too. He risked a look and saw the cuts in his robe. Through them he saw the jagged pink lines in his chest where Mistress's fingernails had scratched him. They weren't fresh though, they were scars. Freshly healed scars.

A sharp intake of breath drew his focus to the blond woman sitting on a fallen log. She was taking the last watch of the night. Now her nose twitching as she scented him. She licked her lips and purred in her throat loud enough for him to hear. "Master, may I clean you?"

John looked past the scars and saw the ropes and puddles of his seed on his robe. Steam rose into the cool morning air from his spend. He swallowed and nodded.

Arika sprang off the log and stepped deftly between the bodies of his companions. She dropped to her knees beside him and bent over, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue. Her tongue reminded John of Beytrixxa, save that Arika's elongated to look more serpentine and less demonic.

"Hey, that's my job!"

John looked over and saw Zynga slip out of Roxanne's arms and crawl up to him on his right. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue -- a normal looking tongue for the normal looking halfling woman she took the form of. Arika growled deep her throat, slowing the imp-turned halfling.

"Oh no you don't," Zynga growled. "This is how Mistress makes sure I'm fed!"

John chuckled, distracted from the lasting effects of his nocturnal encounter with his Mistress. "Girls, share."

Arika's growl relented and Zynga leaned in to lick and slurp up her share of his release. John watched and then let his head slump back down. He stared up at the lightening dawn sky and considered what Beytrixxa had said while they finished cleaning him.

"He said share," Zynga snapped.

John lifted his head enough to see both of them and almost laughed at the pout on Zynga's face. Arika let out a sigh through her nose and then leaned forward an opened her lips. Zynga met her in a kiss that left John wide-eyed and honestly considering using his magic to rouse himself for a second early morning round.

The two women were loud, their lips slurping and smacking as they shared the remnants of his load between them. Satisfied at last they pulled apart and sat on either side of him. Both content and licking their lips.

John blew out a breath and looked down at himself again. He was going to need a new-- No. No he wasn't. His robe was whole again. He tugged the neck of it enough to pull it out and saw the scars on his chest had faded even more. They would remain, he knew, but they'd be hard to see beneath the hair on his chest.

"Well, that was quite the wake-up," Sadie said as she rose. Her cheeks were red as she did her best to gather her bedroll and prove she wasn't affected by the raw hedonism she'd just witnessed.

"His cock crows every morning," Zynga quipped.

"Early bird got the worm too," Jennaca added.

Sadie's blush deepened and she made sure she didn't look in their direction at all.

"Let's hurry, ladies," John said. "Mistress has business for me in the west."

"West? How far west?" Jennaca asked.

"I'm not sure. An island, she said. In a lake."

Jennaca nodded. "I've seen birds in the distance. Water birds, that is. I can take us there."

John nodded. "Good, let's see about some breakfast for the rest of us then and then be off."

"My Lord, your carriage has managed these past months better than I imagined, but it is not a boat," Artesia said.

John frowned. "True, but I trust they have an outpost or a dock or something. If not... well... we'll figure that out when we must."

"As you say, My Lord," his woman-at-arms said and finished buckling her harnesses, sheathes, and belts that held her weapons and equipment on.

He looked to his carriage sitting on level ground between the trees. It needed enchanting for another day of uneven travel. With Beytrixxa draining the excess power he'd gathered he was worried to deplete his reserves further.

"Artesia?" John called. "Care to put some of your training to use? Enchant the wagon wheels?"

Her eyes widened and she turned to look at the carriage. She nodded after a moment of thought. "I'll try, My Lord."

John smiled. "I'm sure you'll do more than that," he said and moved to join her. "I'll help if you need it."

She stiffened and said, "I'm ready, I think. I mean, I'll do it."

John smiled. "That's my--Well, I have every confidence in you, Artesia. Draw on the strength of the trees or the earth. The trees are easier to pull from but the magic won't endure as long... though it might be more flexible. Bah, don't mind me, you make your choice."

She took a deep breath and let it out before closing her eyes to focus on the spells he'd taught her. She opened them and began to chant.

John watched and listened, noting her perfect recitation of the words and gestures. He also noted she chose to call on the trees in the forest as a source of strength for the morning enchantment. He nodded his approval and tried to ignore the shiver of excitement the darkness inside of him gave at the growing strength of his followers.