The Jabberwock's Treasure Pt. 01

Ah, she could look at him, admire those marble soft legs all she wished, but she could not touch him. But wait, that was not true, was it? He only needed to be intact, a virgin. She could still touch him.

Wantonness rose in her heart and her whole body tingled with a gentle but relentless fire which flowed up and down her limbs. She pulled the cover higher rather than lower and his thighs were revealed. She swallowed and took the hem of his dress with it, revealing his naked buttocks.

He wasn't wearing those bloomers any more? But then she noted a fragrance she'd been unable to place when she'd come into the room. That scent, that scent she hadn't smelled in a long time, the thick richness of semen.

As a monster of Wonderland, the smell was an aphrodisiac for her. The trickle of her juices became a flood and she grimaced at the rapidly rising tension in her body.

She let go of the cover, drew her hand away, brushing his naked body – his butt was soft and she lingered, letting the soft fullness fill her cupped claw for a moment, just a moment. Then she trailed her claws along the gentle curve down to the thigh, along it to those delightful depressions at the back of the knee. Then she stroked his calves in a single sweep and regretfully pulled her claw away.

Her need would not brook any delay. She fell forward onto all fours, spread her thighs and with a claw flicked the front of her skirt savagely away and tore the crotch of her panties aside. Her eyes glued to his naked body she brought the soft heel of her other claw against her button. It was rock hard and slick . Vorpal pressed it, hard, and bit back a cry as pleasure exploded through her.

The first burst of pleasure brought even greater tension with it and she brought her tentacles, writhing with need and drooling, along her stomach.

One pulled down her sopping panties with its teeth, the other sent its flicking, eager tongue dancing over her.

Vorpal bit her lips savagely to stop from crying out, drawing blood, but the pain was sublimated at once to the most exquisite delight. She drew her legs together, kicked them to help the tentacle with her panties in its teeth draw them down lower. Then she grabbed the sodden material, now around her knees with a talon, letting the other tentacle joins its twin in swirling its tongue over her spasming sex.

Her flavour was rich, hot and thick... how long was it since she tasted herself? The tentacles drooled, then one plunged its long tongue into her.

Oh! Oh how she wished it could be the prince taking her, making her his! Her eyes devoured his naked, sleeping form. She should grab him, toss him over and bring him to hardness with her hungry mouth. Then she would mount him, not caring for any protests, ride that delicious maleness of him until he filled her with his pungent semen, the smell of which seemed to fill the air, mixing with her own in her hypersensitive excitement.

She moved closer. The lingering scent of his semen drew her. She stopped on trembling knees and stared, her open mouth drooling, at the smooth, white form of the boy.

Vorpal leaned down, drawing in more of the scent, the lewd smell mixed with the clean warm fragrance of his sleeping body.

No. Of course she could not. She could not!

But she did anyway. She brought her lips against his skin, felt the smooth warmth, and darted out the tip of her hungry tongue.

The flavour of him, the saltiness of his skin, sent a bolt of pleasure straight between her legs. She licked again and a further bolt followed it. She drew her tongue over the delightful curve of his buttocks, breathing in the heady scent of his body.

She melted inside, her brain, her marrow, her heart. The slithering tongues of her twin tentacles were greeted with a flood of her desire and their lips and heads grew slimy with it.

Her flavour and that of the boy melded together. She drew her tongue a final, desperate, hungry sweep down the ridge between the cheeks of his butt, across that rough intimate spot and down over the soft swelling of his testicles.

The boy stirred and gasped in his sleep.

And with that sweet sound of pleasure darting sleepily from his lips Vorpal fell back, her knees collapsing beneath her, as her climax tore through her. Her vision went white and all she could feel as that terrible need, that tension holding her body to ransom, finally break in a spasm that sent joy pouring through her. She kicked out her legs as her twin tentacles twisted and coiled between her lewdly spread legs, sharing the delight of the rest of her shuddering body, and they intertwined their slick heads and delved their flickering tongues into each other's drooling mouths.

Then, the ghost of her orgasm still coursing through her exhausted body, Vorpal crawled away, as though she had been mortally wounded, a proud and arrogant dragon reduced to a fragile and broken thing.

She made it back to her hoard, climbed up it as though scaling a great mountain, and at last collapsed forward and let the intoxicating languor pouring over her to claim her body.

If only she could be lying beside him now, his body cradled in hers, his breath and beating heart shared by her own body. If only he was hers, if only the Queen of Hearts, if only the Queen of Hearts had not...