Read Online Wildlings Enraptured: The Novella: (Fantasy Dark Erotica, Paranormal Sex Stories, Fairy Sex) by Jill Soffalot - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jill Soffalot
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with violet cat’s eyes while she deep throated his tumescent cock. He began to thrust his cock in and out of her mouth, face fucking the gagging women. She did not complain however, and the fingers of her right hand began strumming her inflamed clit. He could feel his cock working impossibly deep in her throat while she sucked in a frenzy of saliva and pumping lips. Her esophageal muscles tightened around his cock and pulsated as if she needed his cum to survive. Andrax could feel his orgasm beginning to build so he fucked harder, and the wet finger she jammed in his asshole merely intensified the oncoming tide. She looked up at him with those enchanting eyes just as he began to spray, his head spinning as cum filled her mouth. She smiled around a mouthful of cock and bit, the blue tattoos on her back forming the image of Minerva’s face as he screamed…
Then he had jerked awake in a cold sweat with a cum stain on the front of his pants. The woman was gone, but Herrik was watching him through opaque eyes.
Now they approached the golden hall of Bower Ridge, Andrax puzzling over his bizarre dream. It had seemed so real. They crested a low hill along the riverbank, and the castle appeared from the morning mists like an answered prayer. Andrax gasped at the scene before him. No wonder the woods were so quiet.
Bower Ridge was surrounded by a sea of creatures fucking each other in a living portrait of unnatural excess. Wood elves with cocks sprouting from their eyes drove their heads between the thighs of nymphs, and massive herds of sprites crawled over the distorted bodies of howling Fay. Thousands of the fuck-happy Fay had gathered outside the castle, probably drawn by the scent of untainted flesh. Every known sexual act was being performed (and many that Andrax would never have believed). Nightgift whickered while Andrax scanned the castle walls for any salvation from the rapture.
Herrik turned to survey the debauchery around the castle, his hand shooting from his side. “There, the drawbridge! Ride at once, Overseer!” cried Herrik, and Andrax made for the partially lowered bridge while he wildly spun his cudgel at the surrounding creatures. Mistsong appeared from the press of bodies and pursued them, her grey skin ribbed with foul growths and flaps of green skin. Mistsong was usually no match for Nightgift, but she was enraptured. Andrax bit down hard and spurred Nightgift on, Mistsong snapping at the stallion’s rear legs.
The three-headed monstrosity riding Mistsong slobbered maniacally. Tessyn’s tongue slid out and licked at Mistsong’s mottled flank, the forked point whipping through the air. The heads of the Dunder twins were on either side of Tessyn’s, their teeth clamped on the soft flesh of her ears. Their shared body was a suppurating confusion of gender, with ill-proportioned tits and dozens of scrotums percolating on the churning skin. They neared the bridge just as it began to rise, and Andrax mumbled a prayer as Nightgift took to the air. Nightgift sailed onto the slowly lifting drawbridge while Mistsong and her terrible rider crashed into the moat below.
Riding into Rorke Bower’s inner chambers, Andrax almost trampled a group of fleeing young men with muzzles strapped to their faces. Herrik tensed up behind him, and before Andrax had time to reflect on the surreal departure he was dismounting in Rorke Bower’s hall. The place was a slaughterhouse. Brandi Bower lay before her decomposing grandfather in a pool of blood and viscera. Halla Bower’s dead face stared up at the sky with a bemused expression, a bone-handled knife protruding from her eye socket. Only Tricia Bower remained, screaming as she ran up the dais after a blood-splattered wood elf with a very familiar face…
“Herrik? How did you…?” Andrax turned to the other Herrik alongside him and reeled as the statuesque woman from his dreams struck his face. Everything happened very quickly then.
Nightgift charged at Tricia
Then he had jerked awake in a cold sweat with a cum stain on the front of his pants. The woman was gone, but Herrik was watching him through opaque eyes.
Now they approached the golden hall of Bower Ridge, Andrax puzzling over his bizarre dream. It had seemed so real. They crested a low hill along the riverbank, and the castle appeared from the morning mists like an answered prayer. Andrax gasped at the scene before him. No wonder the woods were so quiet.
Bower Ridge was surrounded by a sea of creatures fucking each other in a living portrait of unnatural excess. Wood elves with cocks sprouting from their eyes drove their heads between the thighs of nymphs, and massive herds of sprites crawled over the distorted bodies of howling Fay. Thousands of the fuck-happy Fay had gathered outside the castle, probably drawn by the scent of untainted flesh. Every known sexual act was being performed (and many that Andrax would never have believed). Nightgift whickered while Andrax scanned the castle walls for any salvation from the rapture.
Herrik turned to survey the debauchery around the castle, his hand shooting from his side. “There, the drawbridge! Ride at once, Overseer!” cried Herrik, and Andrax made for the partially lowered bridge while he wildly spun his cudgel at the surrounding creatures. Mistsong appeared from the press of bodies and pursued them, her grey skin ribbed with foul growths and flaps of green skin. Mistsong was usually no match for Nightgift, but she was enraptured. Andrax bit down hard and spurred Nightgift on, Mistsong snapping at the stallion’s rear legs.
The three-headed monstrosity riding Mistsong slobbered maniacally. Tessyn’s tongue slid out and licked at Mistsong’s mottled flank, the forked point whipping through the air. The heads of the Dunder twins were on either side of Tessyn’s, their teeth clamped on the soft flesh of her ears. Their shared body was a suppurating confusion of gender, with ill-proportioned tits and dozens of scrotums percolating on the churning skin. They neared the bridge just as it began to rise, and Andrax mumbled a prayer as Nightgift took to the air. Nightgift sailed onto the slowly lifting drawbridge while Mistsong and her terrible rider crashed into the moat below.
Riding into Rorke Bower’s inner chambers, Andrax almost trampled a group of fleeing young men with muzzles strapped to their faces. Herrik tensed up behind him, and before Andrax had time to reflect on the surreal departure he was dismounting in Rorke Bower’s hall. The place was a slaughterhouse. Brandi Bower lay before her decomposing grandfather in a pool of blood and viscera. Halla Bower’s dead face stared up at the sky with a bemused expression, a bone-handled knife protruding from her eye socket. Only Tricia Bower remained, screaming as she ran up the dais after a blood-splattered wood elf with a very familiar face…
“Herrik? How did you…?” Andrax turned to the other Herrik alongside him and reeled as the statuesque woman from his dreams struck his face. Everything happened very quickly then.
Nightgift charged at Tricia
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