Phantasmagoria Part 9
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"Stop," the woman said sharply.
The guards froze, and so did he. They had his chest plate and the bulk of his armor off of him. His gorget, his gauntlets and bits of his armor littered the floor. He still wore his s.h.i.+n-protecting grieves over his doe-skin trews and spurred boots. His padded gambeson, worn under the steel chest-plate hung open, bearing his naked chest.
Like a great cat, the woman moved toward him. He could smell the raw copper of blood on her armor. His captors held him firmly as she reached out a gauntleted hand. She touched his breast, and her clawed fingers raked only lightly. She splayed her fingers and placed her palm over his heart. He couldn't stop her from feeling its pounding. His breath shuddered in his chest.What the h.e.l.l is going on here?
Warmth flooded from her palm, and he looked up at her, startled. Her eyes were intent, locking onto his. He felt himself drifting, falling into her bottomless black gaze. He forgot the guards; he forgot the battle. He only saw the woman before him.
"Release him."
He heard her voice as though from far away. Fascinated beyond thought, he watched as she came closer, filling his vision with her violent and threatening beauty. She bent closer, then her lips were touching his in a feather-light kiss. All thought stopped as he felt the warm silk of her soft lips moving over his.
"Desire me."
Her breath brushed against his mouth and her voice rippled straight to his loins, bringing the fine hairs of his neck to attention. His heart hammered violently in his chest and he felt his blood surge powerfully into his groin, filling him with overwhelming and burning need. Pressing forward, he sought closer contact. His mouth opened to taste her, to take possession of her. She let him within, her tongue stroking his, and he shuddered with violent pa.s.sion.
She rushed forward into his arms, and he found his hands released to take her, and his ankles free as he rose on one knee to meet her embrace. His arms closed around her, and the edged scales on her back and spine seemed to fold away their sharp edges under his bare hands.
He grunted as her full weight fell onto him. Her armor-plated body was as heavy as anyone wearing plate mail might be, but the armor was surprisingly warm and moved fluidly, very unlike steel plates as she let him hold her.
With surprising strength and ease, she knocked him back on the hard stone floor, straddling his hips. His manhood was aching, trapped against the leather of his codpiece. He almost cried out in his sudden need to bury it in her warm flesh. She rose up on him; her clawed fingertips raked gently across his nipples and down his stomach, scoring him with livid marks. He shuddered, and a fierce moan of pleasure was startled out of him.
She placed her hand on the glowing ruby at her throat, then slid her hand down. The ruby began to glow, spilling b.l.o.o.d.y light over her skin and his body, and seemed to beat in time with the pulse he could see beating in her throat. The brilliant red stone appeared to be lodged at the base of her throat, grafted into the skin.
He watched as her armor split, s.h.i.+fting apart as though it was retreating into her skin.My G.o.d, he thought in alarm,she is a sorceress...Only magic can explain this! The parting scales revealed her full perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s, topped with rosy and hardened nipples. He swallowed.Sorceress or not, she is incredible.
The armor continued to separate down the center of her body, spreading until he could see her smooth belly and the shaven mound of her female flesh nestled against the leather of his codpiece. Oddly, her powerful thighs remained scaled by her armor as she straddled him.
The War Duke's mouth dried as he gazed on her sleek alabaster perfection, her muscles rippling under generous curves. She leaned down over him, pressing her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the wall of his chest. Her clawed fingers slid through his long black locks. Suddenly her hand locked in his hair, gripping him mercilessly. She looked deep into his eyes, covering his mouth with hers in a searing kiss.
Mouths locked together, he sat up with her in his arms and grunted with the effort.This is no feather-weighted maiden, he thought. His mouth slid from her lips down her throat. He captured a breast in his hand, bent to bring his lips to the hard nipple that crowned it. He stroked against it with his tongue, then sucked hard, bringing a moan from the woman. He slid an arm around her scaled back to hold her in place as he ravished her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
He snaked a hand under the curve of her b.u.t.tock to touch her intimate flesh. Her hips writhed as he found her and slid his finger into her moistness. He explored her, and her excitement dampened his fingers and palm. Searching far within her depths, he discovered the soft fleshy ma.s.s that was her pa.s.sion's trigger. He pressed against it, flicked it lightly in a steady rhythm.
She shuddered in his arms, and her hips bucked as she rode his hand, eyes slitted, biting her lip. He gripped her tightly, holding her while sitting upright, as she chose her rhythm and began panting her way toward ecstasy's release. She stopped at the very edge, snarling and vibrating with unreleased tension.
In sudden temper, she released his hair to tear at the ties on his codpiece.
He spread his legs wide to avoid the spines and spurs of her gauntlets, then hissed as his flesh was released to her palms. He felt her close her clawed fingers around him with unexpected gentleness. Her eyes locked to his, she slowly stroked his shaft and brought her lips down, opening wide to sheathe him.
The heat of her mouth was incredible. He groaned and panted as her tongue swirled and licked at the swollen, sensitive head. His hips bucked into her mouth for more. She took him deeply, sucking hard, her tongue stroking from within. He moaned, mouth open, eyes rolling back from the exquisite intense pleasure. His hands tangled in her blood-red hair. She rose, stroking him with her lips, grazing him gently with her teeth as her palm cradled his b.a.l.l.s. She fell, swallowing him whole. He could feel her throat closing around him. She pulled back, then sucked him back down her throat, and he gasped.
He grunted, sweat gleaming on his chest as his hips bucked without control. He watched his flesh wet with her saliva sliding in and out, f.u.c.king him with her mouth until he was ready to burst. His neck muscles stood out in relief, he fisted his hands in her hair. He was so close, just a bit more and he would spill himself in her mouth.
She released him, and he cried out in frustration. She shoved him until his back was flat against the stone floor. Her hand wrapped around his shaft again, taking possession of his flesh. He looked up from where he lay on the stone to see her poised above his hips, holding him in position at the damp red mouth of her c.u.n.t, her ruby mane in wild disarray about them both.
She sat, plunging herself down onto his rampant shaft. He bowed up from the floor as she took him deep into her body. She grasped him powerfully from within, then rocked forward, leaning down over him, her clawed fingers splayed on his chest. She leaned, then nipped lightly at his nipples.
Without thought, he grabbed her scaled hips and lifting, surged up into her. His spurred heels raked the cold stone of the floor as he dug for purchase. She rocked, riding him as he bucked up into her heat. The muscles of his arms stood out in whipcords as he anch.o.r.ed her hips to keep her locked against him as he laid full length on the stone. He grasped her breast with one hand and brought her to his mouth, determined to bring her to release. He sucked hard on her distended nipples and felt her shake with violent pa.s.sion.
She moaned, long and low. He could feel a light sweat start on her hip under his palm and the trembling of her body around his c.o.c.k. He recognized the signs. She was close, almost there. He was on the brink of his own climax, and he didn't know if he could hold out much longer. Curling his hand around the curve of her b.u.t.tock he pulled, rocking her hard, grinding her against him while working to angle his shaft against that soft fleshy ma.s.s that was her hidden trigger. She cried out as he found it and her c.u.n.t grabbed hold of him. His c.o.c.k felt as if it was being sucked into the very depths of her. He gasped in mind-numbing, ecstatic euphoria.
She shuddered hard, vibrating around him, and he realized that she was beginning to climax. The screams of her mounting ecstasy echoed strongly in the empty stone hallway.
Suddenly he felt the tightening of his own imminent release. He groaned, and she shoved him hard, dropping full-length and heavy upon him, pinning him to the floor under her considerable weight. She writhed and moaned as her climax thundered through her. He choked in pleasurable pain as her powerful inner muscles gripped his c.o.c.k like a steel vise and shuddered around him.
Her arms locked around him, claws digging deep. He could feel tiny trickles of blood running down his ribs. He locked his arms around her as he worked to pump himself into her heated depths, not caring if her armor cut his flesh to ribbons. He hissed as the pain of her clawed fingertips intensified his o.r.g.a.s.m as it arched through him in a glorious blaze. In mindless rapture, he felt his shaft and b.a.l.l.s tighten, trembling on the very edge, then explode to fountain into her, filling her with his body's essence.
Through the fever of his pleasure he saw the corridor filling with a blinding and b.l.o.o.d.y light that seemed to be coming from her ruby. The light of her ruby swelled to a glaring intensity. Suddenly the War Duke felt the light burning into him, blazing with intensity and glory that wrapped around his body and swallowing him whole.
Renewed pa.s.sion violently blazed through his mind and flesh as he felt his life, his soul, being drawn into her body.
Suddenly her pleasure slammed in a brutal red wave through his mind, then burned in a heated wave into his soul. Ecstasy echoed back and forth between their shared thoughts, magnifying to a tidal wave of screaming rapture. His howls joined hers as the pleasure went on and on, was.h.i.+ng over them in wave after wave.
Without warning, her armor rippled under his hands. He gasped. What was happening? Through the red haze of shrieking pleasure, the War Duke struggled to move out from under the woman as her armor came to virulent life and writhed over them both. She wasn't wearing a suit of gilded armor; it was an enchanted skin.
"By all that's holy-let me go!" He fought to get away, but she held him pinned to the floor with her uncanny strength as the scales stabbed into him with a thousand tiny claws. It was quickly grafting itself to him, scale by painful scale.
"I cannot," she said softly and clung tighter. "I need all of you."
He shouted as he felt himself being wrapped to her body with incredible speed. "What is happening?"
"My enchanted dragon's skin is sealing us together," she said softly. "It will soon be over."
"But why?"
"I am the Wyvrn, and you are mine."
He froze in astonishment. By all that was Holy, he was indeed taken by a sorceress; she really was the Wyvrn! A woman more than half dragon, conjured by a powerful Sorcerer long ago. But, that was only a legend, a myth.
Struggling anew, he discovered that the armor had sealed his body to hers; he was trapped in the circle of her powerful arms. He felt a kind of betrayal as he realized that he was still hard from wanting her.
The skin covered both of their bodies with amazing speed, then suddenly encased both of their heads together, smothering him in absolute darkness. Fear gripped his heart in a vise. The sound of her pounding heart filled his ears. He couldn't breathe.
"Surrender to me," a soft voice was saying over and over, as though from far away. "Give me your strength, your fears, your soul," the voice whispered. "Be of me."
He opened his mouth to scream and her lips covered his. Air was forced into his straining lungs and he found he could breathe. Through the ripping pain of the enveloping skin he could still feel the moist heat of the woman wrapped around his man-flesh.
"Yield, and have your revenge on the Boar," the voice continued, stronger, clearer. "Open, let me in. Yield, and live," it commanded in a ringing voice that seemed ageless and ancient.
In a way he could not fathom, he could feel that it was her voice, speaking directly to his soul. He couldn't speak, her mouth covered his completely but his soul screamed. "I yield!"
The doors of his mind slammed wide, letting in an inferno of flame. He felt a burning at the base of his throat. A firestorm swept into and through his blood, searing into his frantically beating heart. Wrapped in her unyielding embrace, his body shuddered and trembled with unspoken shrieks of agony and splendor as pa.s.sion blazed through him. A second powerful wrenching climax consumed him from within. He felt his soul tear apart in a howling red tide of flames. Flame closed in on him and smothered him into red-tinted darkness.
"Body to body, soul to soul, heart to heart. Be one with me," whispered the ancient voice. "Rise and be reborn, child of my flesh, my soul, my heart.My love."
The War Duke shuddered suddenly awake. She drew away from him and stood. He stared up from where he lay sprawled on the stones, surprised that he could see. Surprised that he lived. He had been convinced that her fire had torn him asunder. There was an echoing surprise in her onyx eyes as she stood over him.
The Wyvrn held her clawed hand out to him. "You are reborn, a Wyvrn as I am. More dragon than man."
He looked up from the floor as she towered over him. He felt an inner movement, a second self that was very old and very powerful. Something else was living around and within his body. In that moment, he knew that he was no longer merely human.
"I have much to teach you."
He saw a s.h.i.+mmering beauty within her that he hadn't noticed even in the throes of l.u.s.t. He felt a powerful aching emotion roar through his heart.
He took her hand and discovered that his own hand was gauntleted and spurred as hers was. With ease she pulled him to his feet. He found that he was entirely covered in scaled armor from throat to foot. His body was encased in glittering black scales. The scales of her armor were s.h.i.+ning silver and clean of all traces of the blood that had painted her completely.
"You're clean," he said softly.
"It is the blood that feeds the dragon's skin. After a long battle, the suit must be fed, and fed well." She looked him over, her hand warm against his black scales.
Power surged through his limbs and he stretched, reveling in his newfound strength. In astonishment, he found that his armor seemed weightless and completely unrestricted, allowing him to move as smoothly as though naked.
He looked at his scaled arms. "Does it come off, or am I sealed in here forever?"
She smiled. "The skin can be shed, but the ruby is what connects us to our dragon's soul. The skin responds to the ruby."
He lightly touched his throat and discovered a stone lodged there.
"That is your dragon's eye, the seat of your soul," she said. "I have never seen anyone receive one. You are the first to survive my embrace." She tilted her head to one side. Anguish touched her eyes. "All of the others died in flames, burned to dust."
Around him, a light dusting of ash lay scattered on the floor. There was a scent of burned cloth, leather and scorched metal. They were the remains of his clothes and his own plate armor. The guards were nowhere to be seen.
"The trappings of your mortal body," the Wyvrn said softly. "The guards have fled, having seen the remains of my last lover." There was sorrow in her eyes. "I am not truly sure why you survived to be reborn when others have not, but I suspect that part of you wanted to be as I am." She c.o.c.ked her head to look at him.
"To be powerful? To be a creature of magic and legend?" The War Duke flexed his muscles discovering a new strength and an odd hunger he couldn't quite identify. "To be more than merely human?" He smiled. "Somehow I just don't understand the attraction." He raised a brow sarcastically.
"Come, I have promises to keep, and a need to see the color of the Boar's blood." Her smile was fierce and cold. "I am under gaes, an oath that forbids me to harm the Boar."
"How does the Boar have command of one such as you?" He could feel something strange and protective swelling in his breast. He could not imagine anyone controlling her will.
"There is a sorcerer you must slay to release me," she said gazing at him with a question in her eyes. She leaned over and picked up her dragon helm from where it had been dropped on the floor.
He took both her hands, "Your enemies are my foes. For you, I will slay them all." He dipped his head low to hide his fears and uncertainty from her. "For I find that now, I cannot live without you." He lifted his head.
"Beloved," she whispered.
He touched his lips to hers and she returned his kiss with fervor, tasting him. She pressed her body to his and he could feel her warmth and firm muscles under her suit undulating against him.
She embraced him, resting her cheek on his armored heart. "For you I would slay the moon and the stars. We are bound, heart to heart and soul to soul. Forever."
He pulled her close reveling in her warmth and scent. "I will need a weapon."
"Your sword is never further than your heart." With a smile she pulled away from him. "Grip the eye of the dragon and pull. Carefully."
He touched the stone at his throat and surprisingly it split and a part of it came away in his hand. Lightning arced up his arm in a blaze of white heat and the scent of ozone filled the hallway. In his palm was the hilt of a perfectly balanced blue steel sword. Ruby light flamed from the pommel and reflected up an edge as fine as a razor.
"I have never seen a blade such as this."
"Your weapon is made of dragon fire." She looked at her helm thoughtfully. "You conjure your helm as you do your sword, by touching your ruby."
"For the Boar and his pet sorcerer, I will need no helm." His voice deepened to a ba.s.s rumble. "I want them to see my face. I want them to know that I would slay anyone or anything, for you."
"Come, it is time to blood your steel and feed the hunger of your dragon. Our enemies may be found in the castle library, secure in your defeat." The Wyvrn touched her own ruby, conjuring a sword like his own. Her black eyes blazed with fierce joy as she led the way.
There were no guards at the narrow door of the library. Politely, the War Duke knocked.
"This had better be important!" bellowed a voice.
The War Duke shoved, slamming the door open against the wall with a crash. He took two steps into the small room, his blade in his hand.
The tiny room was crammed with leather-bound volumes on wooden shelves. Tall candles under gla.s.s illuminated the room from all four corners. Maps and parchments littered a long table that was shoved against the bookshelves below an arching window.
"What the h.e.l.l? You're supposed to be dead!" shouted the Boar, still in full steel plate. He stepped away from a gaunt older man in s.h.i.+mmering red robes.
"The small man in the robes is the sorcerer," hissed the Wyvrn from beyond the doorway. "Kill him quickly."
The aged sorcerer rose from his stool by a tall narrow desk that dominated the room. He raised a hand writhing with black flames.
The War Duke grunted in reply then the world appeared to slow down. His sword flicked out, almost by itself, in the gentlest of motions. A thin line appeared at the throat of the robed man. The sorcerer's mouth made an O of surprise, and then his head flew away from his body. The rest of him crumpled in upon itself in a boneless heap with a hiss of silk. Blood spewed from the body and sprayed in a hot fountain across the War Duke's chest. He could feel each individual drop as it struck him.
The Boar drew his heavy sword out with a filthy curse and struck at the War Duke.
Without thought, The War Duke raised his own weapon to parry the Boar's blade. As though in a dream, he danced around the slow clumsy strikes of the Boar. The blue steel blade sliced into the joints of the Boar's armor in long smooth slices without a trace of resistance. A joyous red haze slid across the War Duke's vision.
"Beloved?" whispered a soft voice.
The War Duke blinked and found himself kneeling in a pool of blood spreading thickly across the stone floor of the library. His was looking at a pulped ma.s.s of bleeding flesh gripped in his fists, his sword gone. He lifted his eyes, and the Wyvern's black orbs, glimmering with blue lightning, met his. In silence, she dropped to her knees before him.
"And so, you have blooded your steel and ripped out the heart of the Boar. I am free," she said.
He could smell the blood dripping from his hands. In disgust, he pitched the wet ma.s.s of flesh against the wall.
"Now we must feed your hunger," she whispered.
He could smell the fresh copper of blood on her armor, on his own armor, on the floor, in the air he breathed. It was spattered in rivulets across the leather tomes and streaked the walls. His man-flesh swelled rigid with sudden cruel and painful l.u.s.t. He gasped with the strength of his body's virulent and overwhelming desire.
"I need you," he growled, his body pulsing with effort not to take her there on the blood-soaked floor.
"Take me," she whispered, only inches away.
"Wait...I am as you now." He looked at her with pained eyes, thinking of the men she had destroyed in her fiery embrace. "What if I kill you?"
"It is how we feed. It is the ecstasy that triggers the magic, but it is the blood that feeds the dragon. I believe that there is enough blood and death in this room to satisfy both our dragons, but if it should kill me, I would die gladly in the arms of my beloved."
"I...I can't take that chance." There was an inferno building up under his skin. Sweat started to drip from his face. A fine trembling erupted all through his limbs.
Phantasmagoria Part 9
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Phantasmagoria Part 9 summary
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