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Story Codes: Teen male/Teen female, Fantasy, Magic, Voyeurism

For a list of all The Rogue’s Harem, other World of Erasthay stories, maps, and glossaryclick here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.

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Click here for Chapter 17.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Princess Ava – Echur, The Kivoneth Princedom, The Strifelands of Zeutch

The stables smelled of horse, that earthy scent that always lingered on them. I stroked Delicate’s neck as I tightened the girths of her saddle. It was the first time I had done it, but I had watched the stable boys do it carefully over the last year. In the back of my mind, I always knew it might come down to me having to flee the castle.

Flee my father.

I pushed thoughts of my father out of my mind. This wasn’t the time to get distracted. Already that hot itch filled my pussy. I squirmed my hips, sucking in a deep breath. I bit my lower lip hard, almost drawing blood. The pain flared.

My lusts retracted.

Damn that spell my father had cast on me. If I ever found the corrupted priestess of Luben who did this to me…

I’d have her spanked. Sven would be more than happy to do it for me.

Once I had Delicate’s saddle cinched as tight as I could make it, I filled the saddlebags with the supplies Greta had filched from the kitchen. The mare gave a whinny, her white tail swishing from side-to-side. She was a gift from my mother right before her passing, given to me when Delicate was just a filly and I was still a virgin. We had both grown up together, her into a magnificent horse with a white coat, almost a brilliant ivory, made more so by the black socks of her forelegs.

“How’s it going, Your Highness?” my maid asked. She peeked over the wooden wall from Prancer’s stall. “I’m ready to go.”

“Almost there,” I said. Greta had actual experiencing saddling a horse. She grew up on a farm before she found work in my father’s castle first as a scullery maid and then as my bedmaid. She enjoyed riding Prancer, a gelding, as much as I loved Delicate.

The stable door creaked open.

I froze as one of the stable boys trooped in. It was so early. I wanted to be out of the castle at dawn. Why was he here at this hour? I heard him moving around, greeting the horses in with mumbling words that I almost couldn’t understand.

He paused. “Ees someone in t’ere wit’ Delicate?”

I took a deep breath. This wouldn’t ruin my escape plans. It couldn’t I had every right to be here.

“Nope, I’m in with Prancer,” Greta said. She slipped out of her stall. “Hey there, cutie,”

“Cutee?” the stable boy said, his mouth sounded like it was stuffed with raw fat. “Wot choo doin’ here, maeed?”

“Just getting the princess’s horse ready. She wants to go for an early ride.”

“Coulda done that for choo,” he said. “Be more ‘n ‘appy do it.”

“Mmm, I bet you would be,” giggled Greta. She had such a whorish quality to her voice, purring like honey. “Big, strapping lad like you would’ve gotten done a lot faster, wouldn’t you.”

“Oy would,” he said, sounding so proud.

I licked my lips. If he found out I was saddling my own horse, there would be questions. Princesses didn’t do something so crass.

“But choo a maeed, choos work up eem dem castle. Choo don’t be doin’ such work down heeere. Wot choo really doin’ down heeere?”

“Maybe… I just wanted a little romp in the hey with such a cutie.”

My cheeks grew warm at the unmistakable sounds of kissing. Greta was improvising, using herself as a distraction. I heard the sounds of their mouths working together, the rustling of clothing. Greta let out such a wanton, soft sigh as hay rustled.

“Yeesh,” groaned the stable boy. “Yeesh, that’s nice.”

“You like my pussy, huh?” Greta moaned. “Ooh, I bet you do. With such a big cock. Mmm, just pump that big dick away in me.”

The hay rustled more. My pussy grew wetter and wetter as I listened to him fuck her. I squirmed my hips. I needed satisfaction. I pressed myself against the stall wall, fighting the urge to masturbate as the hay rustled louder and louder.

Greta squeaked and groaned her pleasure. I imagined her large tits jiggling in the bodice of her dress, her face wrinkling as the stable boy fucked her so hard. His ass pumped up and down in my imagination, driving his dick into her blonde-furred muff.

“Ooh, yes, just work that dick in me!” gasped Greta. “Such a strapping man! Oh, yes! Gods, you are fucking me.”

“Just sweet honee,” he groaned. “Sweet honee pussee!”

“Yes, yes, I have sweet honey!” gasped my maid.

I needed a cock in me. My father’s cock.

I could go to him. I could reach my father and slip into his bad. He would fuck me so hard. He would drive his cock into the depths of my pussy. I’d moan and gasp beneath him. He’d fill me to the hilt. I squirmed against the side of the stall, the lusts surging through me. It would be so easy. He was waiting for me.

He needed to be in me. He needed to fuck me. Only he could satiate me. I just had to go to him. Why was I fleeing the castle? He wouldn’t be able to slip his cock into me and make me cum if I left. I wouldn’t explode with incestuous rapture ever again.

I whimpered.

“Yesh, yesh, work dat honee pussee on my prick! You love me big prick!”

“So much!” squealed Greta.

I could make those sounds for my father. I could gasp just like that. My pussy could make his dick feel as good as the stable boy’s prick. Juices ran down my thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting so hard against them.

I whimpered.

I groaned.

Sven’s face filled my vision.

His blond hair flowing about his handsome face. My dashing rogue smiling at me in that cocky manner. His cock would give me just as much pleasure. More pleasure. He didn’t use me. He didn’t want to violate all the laws of nature by fucking me.

I.

Loved.

Him.

I had to remember that. I focused on that as the stable boy grunted, spilling his seed into Greta’s pussy. I bit my lip, focusing all my desires on Sven. I had to go to him. I had to flee to him. Only then would I be free of these depraved, incestuous lusts driving me to my father. He could help me break the spell on me.

Then I would be free.

“Oh, yes,” whimpered Greta. “You’re pumping so much honey in me. You have such salty, thick honey.”

“Oy do,” the stable boy groaned. “Yesh, oy do.”

Greta made a giggle. Straw rustled as I sucked in a deep breath. And then I heard snoring. The stable boy must have fallen asleep. I grabbed Delicate’s reins. It was time to leave my father’s castle and escape. Shevoin would ensure that my father looked in the wrong direction for me. I would reach Sven.

I would be held in his arms again. For real this time.

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Aingeal – Queen Sidhe’s Palace, Faerie

I deserved to die.

I didn’t want to die.

My emotions were a tumultuous mess as the night passed so slowly. It dripped by as I squirmed in my cell. Dawn approached. The glow that had suffused the crystalline structure, dwindled. It would be renewed again after the new day started, a subtle radiance that lit up every inch of Queen Sidhe’s palace.

And meant it was closer to noon. When my execution would occur. Prisoners were always condemned at noon, when the greatest of Faerie’s moon hovered overhead, the great, golden sphere.

I didn’t want to die.

My own thirst for vengeance landed me here. I thought it worth any price to pay to kill Duke Gallchobhar. But now I knew what it was. I only had an extra day than him. I hugged myself, missing my wings.

I wanted it to be over. I hated this waiting. It was the worst. Why couldn’t she just have me executed last night?

And yet… The longer it took meant one more breath of air. One more beat of my heart. One more moment of hope that I might, might be spared. That Sven would somehow convince her of my innocence or that he would do something foolish and set me free. The sort of act a hero in a bardic epic would perform.

The three of the four guards watching me stretched and marched from the chamber. The final guard yawned, his red butterfly wings fluttering. His shift was almost over. The guards had to fill in their relief on what had happened, a formality since nothing occurred.

A purring sound pricked my ears. I shifted, the shiver manacles binding my wrists together, and preventing me from communicating with the spirits that abound in Faerie, clinked.

Zanyia stalked into the room, her tail swishing back and forth. She had a big smile on her face as she padded towards the guard. I sat up, my heart beating so fast at the sudden appearance of the lamia. She was naked, her tawny hair spilling about her mischievous face, her triangular ears twitching in rhythm to her swaying tail thrusting from above her supple ass. Her small breasts jiggled, her nipples hard. Passion had darkened her trimmed bush, her dew glistening.

“Ooh, aren’t you such a hunk,” Zanyia said, approaching the guard. “I love the color of your wings. It matches your eyes. So strong and powerful. Crimson is my favorite color.”

Sven went with something foolish.

“You shouldn’t be here,” grunted the guard. He tapped the butt of his bronze spear on the ground.

She reached him, rubbing her cheek against the greave adorning his leg. “Shouldn’t? I thought I was a guest here? What’s wrong with a guest exploring the house in which she was so graciously invited?”

“This is the queen’s dungeon, not the queen’s residence,” he growled. “Get out of here.”

What was Sven up to? Why send in Zanyia?

“I’m just so bored,” Zanyia said, undeterred. “Won’t you… play with me?”

The guard kicked out with his foot, not hard, but enough to knock Zanyia onto her backside. The catgirl rolled up into a crouch, blinking her cat-slitted eyes as she stared up at the guard. Shock flickered across her expression. Then she pouted.

“Don’t you want to play with me?” she asked in such a pouting, purring tone. “I just want to have some fun. And you’re such a handsome faerie. With all those muscles. You’re not soft like the other male faeries I found.”

“Exactly.” The guard banged his spear butt hard into the ground. “Get out of here.”

Zanyia’s pout increased. “Fine. You’re no fun.”

Then she turned around to slink back the way she came. I frowned, confused, what was the point of this? How would this help me escape? If she came here to seduce the guard to distract him, it had failed.

The hope that her presence had cultivated, died. Sven, despite his skill at fighting, couldn’t overpower a faerie unless he caught one by surprise. I lowered my gaze and hugged myself tight. I didn’t want to die.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 19.

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