The Sultry Sorceress Ch. 12

Golden sunlight poured into a golden room through pink tinted glass, casting a bright glow over crimson curtains and ruby colored sheets. A crisp, gentle morning breeze blew in from the spacious balcony, stirring the aromatic presence of roses and lavender, and bringing with it the fresh smell of oak and pine . . . but along with the vigorous scent of nature there was also the arousing stench of pleasure, sex, and wanton bacchanalia. Slowly life stirred within the comfortable, fragrant sanctuary, as the firm and nubile bodies of several healthy young maidens roused from sleep, all of them either naked or clad in the skimpiest of lingerie. Their skin tones mostly ranged from pale milk to golden tan, and the flawlessness of their bodies was marked only by the aftermath of lust, their smooth breasts and long legs still sticky with cum.

The first of them to erect her blossoming proud body was also the youngest. Her form was slender but athletic, like a runner or an acrobat, and her promising chest was perky but not as greatly endowed as her sisters and cousins. Realizing she was naked, and that her pink nipples were becoming remarkable erect in the cool air of the morning, she covered herself with a blanket and wrapped it around her body like a dress. She crept to towards the bathroom to wash up, smelling that her long blonde hair still stank of sex.

"Nicolette," a nasally voice came from the bed, stubbornly dragging herself from sleep. "Fetch me a glass of wine."

"You shouldn't drink in the morning," Nicolette shyly reproached her cousin. "And I think you drank enough last night, Chancy."

Chancy rose from the bed all breasts and hair. Unlike her slender younger cousin, Chancy was a woman with the soft, generous curves of an hourglass, and head of curly yellow hair that was as big as her ego. She was incredibly beautiful, just as all the women of the Belladonna family were, but she was also selfish and lewd, even now her impeccable looks were marred by a thick coating of dried semen that clung to her breasts and chin. Two of her lovers from the night before slept next to her, one a human male with dark skin and bulging muscle, the other a green orc that was even larger. Neither was handsome, but Chancy rarely looked for beauty in her lovers. She preferred big, fat cocks attached to stupid, aggressive men to anything else, especially personality.

"I said get me some fucking wine, or else I'm going to find the biggest dildo in this room and shove it up your tight little ass," Chancy growled.

Nicolette looked around the floor and saw several dozen dildos large enough to hurt, so she grunted and handed her nasty cousin a pitcher of wine and a cup, allowing her blanket to slip down her naked body. Chancy disregarded the cup and took the pitcher straight, tilting it to her succulent lips and chugging it with the expertise of a professional reveler. Only a single splash of wine escaped and spattered onto her breasts, mixing with the sticky residue of semen and running down her milky white tits to her navel.

Nicolette grunted in disgust, which she did not think was hypocritical at all. She had participated in last night's orgy as well, but she had spent the night either masturbating or making gentle, respectful love with the handsome boy she had brought with her. Chancy on the other hand had acted like a raging slut, sucking every cock and clit in the room, burying her face in a pillow, and allowing anyone who wanted to take a ride on her. Nicolette slipped into the bathroom to wash up, and left Chancy to her hedonism.

Chancy belched with most unladylike demeanor, and dropped the pitcher to the floor, rolling out of bed on unsteady legs. Her vagina and anus still ached from the pounding she had taken from the many, many cocks the night before, but it was a pleasant ache, the kind of ache she had learned to love. Once, several years ago, she had been more like Nicolette, and showed some civilized discretion in her debauchery, but then she had met the witch Nadia Méchant, and everything changed. Chancy had been tasked with arresting Nadia, and they had fought, but Nadia had won, and with her victory came many long hours of brutal, incessant, mind-breaking sex for Chancy, as Nadia used her and broke her like a cheap, perishable sex-toy. Chancy was left humiliated, ravished, and half insane, but she recovered from her ordeal as most of Nadia's victims did, albeit with a new, insatiable depth of sexual depravity. Even Nicolette had been a bashful virgin when she and Nadia had fist battled, and now she was just a slightly shy slut.

Chancy hated Nadia, she hated her so much that the though of the witch's long red hair and poisonous green eyes made her want to scream.

But Chancy banished the thought of that redheaded harlot, not wanting her morning to be ruined by that foul whore's memory. Instead she paced around the massive bedroom and surveyed the damage the orgy had left, and she was very proud to say that it was substantial.

Furniture was broken, sheets were stained, dozens of wine bottles had been emptied, and hundreds of sex-toys lay discarded and sticky. Some of the participants had already left, but the floor was still littered with unconscious revelers exhausted from a night of wild sex. Chancy nearly stepped on her young cousin Amber, a pretty freckled girl with a flat chest but a pair of puffy lips fashioned by the goddesses for sucking cock. This had been her fist orgy, and Amber had gone a little too hard perhaps, her tight pussy gushing with cum. Chancy also recognized her aunt, Josephine, sprawled over a couch, her mountainous breasts pooled over the hard chest of the boy who had fucked her so thoroughly the night before, his young cock still semi-inflated and wedged in the juicy groove of her vagina.

It had been a good orgy, one of the best in months, and Chancy had been to so many that she could barely recall whose cock she sucked in whose bed. There was nothing unusual about this type of thing, not in the kingdom of Hedonia, where nothing was valued more than pleasure and power, and life itself was nothing more than the pursuit of those two goals. Those very words had become something of a motto for the Hedonian nation, especially the Belladonna family, of which most of the girls in the room were members.

"Pleasure and Power."

Chancy chanted that to herself as she admired her curvaceous shape, massaging her large breasts and tenderly touching her swollen pussy. She was a woman built for sex, but beneath those soft, sexual curves there was a litany of muscles, and even the feint outline of battle-scars. Chancy, like Nicolette, were Paladins, the most elite knights and priestesses of the Hedonian Court, and the bodyguards of Queen Nymphoria herself, the Goddess of Pleasure and Power Incarnate. They were as powerful on the field of battle as they were in the bedroom, channeling their battle-magic and sexual energy into the same force. Hedonia was a powerful nation, and it made lesser countries submit to its will in more ways than one.

Chancy's mother was none other than the Arch-Paladin, the woman tasked not only with commanding the Paladin Order, but also keeping the Queen's bed warm at night, and enviable position, but Chancy knew that the woman who Queen Nymphoria wanted more than anything was the bitch: Nadia Méchant. Capturing Nadia as bringing her to the Queen had been the principal of the Paladins' lives these last few years, and Chancy was really starting to hate it. If it was up to her (and if she was the one to corner Nadia it would be) Nadia would be having a nasty accident long before she could return to Hedonia and work her sexual wiles over the Queen again. No, Chancy wanted Nadia to slip and break her neck, or fall on a dagger, or accidentally stumble in front of dozen arches practicing with poison arrows, or even mistakenly walk into a cave filled with hungry, man-eating ogres; horny ones, who would fuck her, kill her, and ear her; and not necessarily in that order.

Chancy giggled at the thought of Nadia's death. It excited her. It made her want to masturbate.

The large golden doors to the room swung open, and in glided a woman of the most angelic and erotic beauty. She was tall, possessed of long slender limbs, but her bust and buttocks swelled with sexual hyperbole. Her shining golden hair cascaded down her back in artful curls and feathers, her blue eyes sparkled like electric sapphires, and her puffy lips were naturally golden. Her only clothing was a diaphanous and transparent golden robe, the perfectly circular rims of her golden nipples plainly visible. Around her thighs and waist was strapped an unusual garment of silver, gold, and studded jewels. Time slowed as she entered the room, the sunshine intensified, and musical singing of the birds outside became almost orgasmic in tone.

Chancy groaned, years of jealousy and inadequacy poisoning her mood. "Hello . . . sister."

"Good morning sister Chancy," the golden goddess said through a superior smirk. "You look . . . soiled. Did you have fun demeaning yourself last night like a filthy gutter-slut?"

Chancy sneered. "More than you. See?" Chancy asked, leaning back over a cushioned footrest and spreading her legs, flashing her sister with the sight of her battered, cum-stuffed, hairless pussy, her vulva and clit still swollen from the beating she had taken. "Nothing better than getting fucked by a dozen fat cocks all night long . . . not that you would know anything about that . . . Adelaide."

Adelaide Belladonna, eldest of most beautiful of the Arch-Paladin's daughters, sneered in her own jealous contempt, but even her frown was perfect and beautiful. Unconsciously she reached at the elegant metal plate covering the mound of her vulva, a perfectly shaped covering made of gold and silver, studded with a ludicrously large diamond directly over the site of her clitoris. Tight but comfortable chains of adamantium and mithril wrapped around her faultless curvature of her buttocks instead of digging into the cleavage of her ass. The metal loin-garment was so expertly shaped to her body that it almost looked as though it had been poured over her vulva while molten liquid. The metal undergarment was not a pair of panties though, or a thong, or a sex-toy of any sort.

Adelaide Belladonna wore a chastity belt.

"I've been fucked up the ass," Adelaide said, the vulgar words oozing from her refined accent like melted chocolate, thick with guilty pleasure.

"So have I," Chancy scoffed in her bratty, nasally voice.

"And my mouth," Adelaide said. "I've tasted every inch of a man's body, and a woman's."

Chancy scooped out a slimy finger's-worth of cum from her vagina and sucked on it, moaning loudly with exaggerated pleasure. "So have I, sister. I've done everything . . . EVERYTHING, and despite all the sex that you've been pretending to have, you still haven't felt what it is to be a woman, something even the ugliest whore knows about. Pathetic. You're almost thirty, and you've never, ever, ever been penetrated. Hell, even shy, timid, spineless little Nicolette's gotten more cock than you."

Adelaide's flawless body was shivering with rage. She looked around the room and surveyed the sloppy aftermath of her sister's orgy, noticing the dozen or so males and their deflated, pussy-soaked cocks. Painful shocks of girlish curiosity and womanly need shook her body, causing her breasts to jiggle and crystal tears to come to her eyes. From the tight confines of her chastity belt gushed a small amount of feminine liquor that trickled down her firm thighs. Chancy saw this and smirked.

Adelaide was furious with her prissy little sister, and she knew just how to get her revenge. Stepping forward, she reached down with her elegant hands and cupped Chancy's juicy breasts in her palms, squeezing down on the nipples slightly.

"Wait!" Chancy squealed, knowing what was about to happen. "Don't use your magic on me, I'm-" Chancy suddenly inhaled as an orgasmic wave of energy bolted through her body like a stampede of horny stags. "AAAAAAAGGHHH!"

Chancy came, her pussy erupted with a violent gush of liquid, a literal waterfall of cum draining her body to the point of dehydration, and wracking her fragile mind with a series of orgasms so powerful that it left her nearly concussed.

Adelaide let her sister go, and Chancy slipped to the floor in a puddle of her own sexual mess, lifelessly gurgling into what would be a brief coma. The expression on her face was a extremity of sexual bliss that it made her look semi-retarded. Adelaide shivered with barely sated jealousy, her fingers tingling with only a small portion of the magical energy she had unleashed upon her sister. Unsatisfied, the elegant and desperately horny woman turned on her heels and strutted out of the room.

#

Queen Nymphoria, the Goddess Incarnate, was lounging in her pavilion by a large swimming pool that was fed by fountains fashioned into the erotic shapes of nymphs and lesser deities, each holding onto vases overflowing with warm water. A few herculean shapes glided through the steaming blue waters of the pool, perfect specimens of masculinity and beauty, the Queen's male concubines. Some were dark skinned, some black, and others pale and blonde, each hand-picked from the most expensive slave breeders in the world, but they were all in perfect health, peak physical condition, and possessed extraordinary sexual stamina. Any one of them was athletic enough to pleasure a small flock of young girls to the point of exhaustion, but it still took at least three of them to keep Queen Nymphoria entertained.

The cinnamon-skinned Queen was not being entertained by one of her male lovers at the moment though, but instead by one of her warriors. A tall, strong woman with flawless features and long blond hair knelt between the Queen's open legs, skillfully worshiping the monarch's pink pearl until her honey flowed freely and stained the expensive silk pillows beneath her. The warrior-woman has a stern, intimidating face, with clear, cruel blue eyes, and sharp cheekbones, but there was nothing about her that was not enticing as well. The armor she wore was made of gold and mithril, and it elegantly coated her arms and legs, but left her torso and crotch completely naked. It may have looked foolishly misguided to leave the most vital parts of the body so exposed, but the armor of Hedonia's Paladins was valued for its magic, not its physical function.

The Queen moaned in deep, blissful satisfaction at the efforts of her Arch-Paladin, the Lady Severine, who was her greatest lover save for one . . . but Nadia had not been with her for several years now.

The Queen's relaxation was intruded upon by the sound of high-heeled shows chipping away angrily at the marble tiles around the pool. Nymphoria looked up to see Severine's daughter Adelaide strutting over, her long legs impaling the ground with aggravated impatience, and her beautiful face marred by a furious frown and stubborn tears. The lovely girl looked tensed and anxious, and Nymphoria knew why. Sunlight danced upon the reflective metal of Adelaide's chastity-belt, and upon the sticky residue of her honey that stained her inner-thighs. The Queen giggled to herself and pushed Severine's face deeper into the swollen folds of her pussy.

"Lady Adelaide!" a handsome young blonde stud greeted the distressed woman as he rose out of the pool, clear rivulets of water cascading done his sculpted chest and abs. He was nervousness but excited, as all men where in the presence of the Arch-Paladin's most beautiful daughter. "I didn't know you would be-"

"Out of my way, concubine," Adelaide growled with disdain, pushing the young man's face away with her palm, shoving him back into the pool. The touch only lasted the briefest of moments, but it was enough to send a penetrating shock of magical energy through the stud's body, igniting a spontaneous orgasm that had his handsome cock spurting thick robes of semen as he fell back into the pool.

"Your Divine Majesty," Adelaide presented herself, shivering with impatience and thrusting her full bosom out. "I . . . I demand you unlock this belt you put on me!"

"Adelaide!" her mother Severing gasped angrily, coming up from between Nymphoria's legs with sex smeared all over her solemn face. "How dare you speak to your Goddess with such impertinence! You are next in line for the office of Arch-Paladin, you should-"

Severine was interrupted by Nymphoria, who forcefully grabbed her sexual subjugate by the hair and pushed her back into worship. "I didn't say you could stop, Severine. If your tongue has the strength to scold your daughter, then it has the strength to eat more pussy. Now," Nymphoria leaned back and regarded Adelaide with amused condescension, "what's all this about, sweetheart?"

Adelaide huffed childishly and collapsed into the pillows next to her mother, kneeling between her Queen's open legs and resting her cheek on Nymphoria's inner-thigh. The Queen bit her lip as a small shock of sexual energy coursed through her body, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Nymphoria was the earthly incarnation of the Goddess of Pleasure and Power, she could handle any amount of erotic-magic from any sorceress or nymph . . . except that of her lost love; Nadia. That red-haired demoness had been the only lover to ever dominate her . . . ever.

"I'm twenty-eight years old and still a virgin," Adelaide bemoaned, her hand gliding over her Queen's naked thigh. "It was ten years ago that you put this stupid belt on me, and ever since then I've watched my little sisters and cousins become women. I've had to listen to them giggle and gossip about every cock in the kingdom; about who is the biggest, and the fattest, and the hardest, and who cums the most. I can't stand it anymore. Anal doesn't satisfy me. Nothing satisfies me. I can't even sleep a full night without wetting the bed, and some days I can barely walk. It isn't fair. It's torture."

Nymphoria sighed sympathetically, and cupped Adelaide cheek in her hand, wiping away a single tear with her thumb. She pulled Adelaide up until the young woman's firm breasts rolled over her own, and their erect nipples playfully jousted. Nymphoria kissed Adelaide, and for once it was Adelaide who was shocked by a bolt of sexual energy, as her own wild, chaotic power was overcome by the Queen's erotic divinity. Adelaide whimpered and fidgeted against her monarch's cinnamon-skinned body, grinding her metal-plated crotch fruitlessly against Nymphoria's soft thighs. The Queen grabbed the younger woman's buttocks and squeezed, playfully tugging at the tight chains that held the chastity-belt in place, causing Adelaide to almost scream with tortured excitement, and her pussy began to gush cum all over her mother's head..

"Adelaide," Nymphoria whispered, breaking away from the kiss. "Look at what you did to that poor boy."

Adelaide bit her lip and turned. The blonde concubine she had touched was laying unconscious by the side of the pool, his muscular chest beating like a drum, and his erect cock still twitching painfully with a dry orgasm, his testicles' full worth all ready exhausted. He probably would have drowned had his fellow concubines not fished him out of the warm water. She had left her sister Chancy in a similar state of devastation. A single touch, and even a talented sexual warrior was left as helpless and broken as a yearling mare mounted by a dozen wild stallions in a row.

"It's been like that since the day you were born," Nymphoria whispered through a smile. "Your mother's screams of labor during your delivery were not out of pain, but of excruciating pleasure. You were birthed during a flood of orgasms the likes of which my own mother suffered when I was born. You've been blessed by the Goddess, your body is filled with her righteous power, and it radiates from you like the light from a star."