The World of Erasthay

The Knight and the Acolyte Book Seven: Illusory Passion

Prologue: Justice's Pursuit

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2016

Visit my blog for maps and glossarys on the World of Erasthay
Story Codes:MF fantasy magic exhib D/s anal oral viol

Click here for Book 6, Chapter 6

Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!

King Edward IV – Shesax, The Kingdom of Secare

A pleased smile spread across my lips. For once, things moved swiftly upon my command. Word had arrived that not only had Knight-Errant Angela been accused of high crimes by the Doge of Raratha, but so had Acolyte Sophia ev'Tith, servant of Saphique and daughter of the contemptible Duchess of Tith. Agnes, the High Abbess of Slata, was eager to disgrace her church's rival. With her support, Lord-Commander William had no choice but accept the charges levied against Angela.

She was undone. She would never fulfill the Sekar Oracle's prophecy and steal my throne. My newborn son would follow me as king.

My wife, Queen Lavinia, sipped her goblet of wine, a smile playing on her lips. Her blonde hair spilled about the red brocade of her dress. Her figure had recovered from pregnancy, curvy hips and ample bosom combined with a flat stomach. Radiant.

“It is a pity Lady Delilah's plan has so spectacularly failed,” she purred.

“I never trusted this changeling she hired to assassinate Angela,” I noted. I glanced at the doors, waiting for a squire to inform us the Knights Deute were assembled to hear Angela's villainy. The last time I had been in the fortress was to knight Angela. I had so wanted to cut her head off and see her dead.

But politics interfered. The Knights Deute had too much power to be so affronted. So I had to be subtle, relying on Lady Delilah's plans or hiring deadly warlocks.

My eyes bored into the wooden door. “Changelings are slaves to their cocks.”

“Aren't all men?” laughed my wife.

I smiled. “But changeling are birthed of Las, so he could not resist Angela's charms. They are ample.”

“Do you want her dead, or do you want to bed her?” Heat simmered in his wife's voice.

“Dead. Let the crows enjoy her body.”

The smile grew on Lavinia's lips as she walked to me, her ample bosom jiggling in the square cut of her bodice, her nipples dimpling the front of her dress. She hooked her arm through mine, her perfume filling my nose. “Good.”

Thoughts of throwing my wife over the table, hiking her skirt, and ravishing her hard surged through my mind. She would gasp and moan, her supple pussy gripping my cock. Lavinia had a cunt fit for a king.

Prime, Zeutchian cunt.

And then the quick rap on the door and then a young squire entered, her hair cut short, her face fresh. She stood back straight though her lower lip trembled. “Your Majesty, the Knights Deute have assembled and await at your pleasure.”

I nodded. She was quite the morsel. Lavinia's hips shifted, a low purr rising from her throat. My wife agreed. The squire was delectable. But the knights awaited along with High Abbess Agnes. It was time to end the threat to my throne. No more skulking. No more relaying on dubious warlocks or unreliable changelings. No more hoping that Lady Delilah's plan would succeed.

Angela would never reach the dragon Dominari.

“Shall we?” I asked my wife.

“Yes.” Her eyes flicked to the squire. “Remain here, girl, to attend us after the audience.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

As we strode out, my wife said with a breathless whisper, “You'll enjoy her.”

The assembled Knights Deute saluted when we stepped into the large hall, their armor clanking. The men wore their full plate, the women in their half-plate, each in a surcoat with their family's coat of arms upon them. We strode down the central aisle, and I favored the knights with regal nods. At the front stood Knight-Commander William beside the High Abbess, who looked in her early twenties despite approaching her sixties—the magics of Slata preserving the temple-prostitute's appearance.

“Your Majesty,” saluted the Knight-Commander, his weathered face grave.

Behind the Knight-Commander, a pair of ornate chairs had been set on a hastily raised dais. They were at odds with the austere and practical construction of the fortress. Heavy buttresses lined the long walls, no tapestries or other finery to hide the bluntness of the architecture.

I hated it.

I held my wife's hand as she sat daintily upon her seat before I sat down. That was the extant of our participation. We were here for ceremony and to lend the weight of the Secaren throne upon the proceedings. Most of being a king was filled with such trivialities—actions taken for the sake of appearance.

“My brothers and sisters,” the Knight-Commander orated, his voice booming through the hall, “one of our number has proved herself to be a villain and befouled the proud name of our order. Knight-Errant Angela ev'Xarin has committed high crimes against the person and property of Aurelius, Doge of the Free-City of Raratha.”

The knights maintained their disciplined and made not a sound, but I could see their posture shift, their faces tighten. Anger simmered. Angela had besmirched their collective honor, and they would see it rectified.

Angela could not escape their retribution.

“To reclaim our order's honor, we must deliver justice. From this moment forward, Knight-Errant Angela ev'Tith is attainted. Her name shall be stricken from our rolls. The villain and her companions shall be returned to the Free City of Raratha. To aid our order in restoring our honor, High Abbess Agnes shall provide six priestesses to join our company.

“Now who shall lead our justice?”

A knight stepped forward, his armor clinking, his face set. A handsome man, flowing, brown locks spilling about his shiny pauldrons. He stopped before the Knight-Commander and knelt. “I beg your leave in hunting down the villainous Angela to restore our orders honor and my own.”

The Knight-Commander nodded. “Sir Kevin shall lead our justice. He needs five brothers or sisters to aid him.”

I smiled as Kevin rose. Five more knights, two male and three female stepped out of the crowd and joined him. Six knights, all skilled fighters, aided by six priestess of Slata and wielding divine magics. They would hunt Angela down and the Doge of Raratha would see to her execution.

I reached out and took my wife's hand. She favored me a smile. I had secured our son's future.


Yowlia, Lamia Slave – The Elpa Estuary, The Free City of Hargone

I gripped the railing of the sluggish sloop named the Mermaid's Embrace. The merchant ship entered the mile-wide mouth of the River Elpa, my eyes darting at the eastern bank where the rich of Hargone dwelt in ornate mansions, surrounded by palm trees and monuments of limestone and granite, proof of their wealth. The western bank was the opposite, mud-brick tenements crowded together, the streets narrow, the homes of the poor. My tail swished back and forth as I kneaded the wood railing, a purr rising in my throat as I stared at the sights.

I always loved Hargone. The bright sun reflecting off the blue of the river, the green of the plants, the white of the buildings, and the yellow of the desert sands kept back by the fertility of the Elpa. My ears twitched with my excitement at being back in Hargone.

A hand seized my tail. The chain attached to my iron slave collar rattled. My natural instincts as a lamia was to hiss and pull my tail away. It was not comfortable for it to be held. My tail gave me balance and expressed my moods. It often had a life of its own, so to feel it constrained meant my freedom was constrained.

But the trainers of Shizhuth beat that out of me.

I trembled, recognizing the touch of my master. His fingers stroked the tawny hair. The sensation rippled up my tail to my pussy. Another way I had been trained. The touch of my master always excited my cunt. My juices flowed and beaded my shaved lips. My ears twitched as he moved up behind me.

“Always curious,” he said in Shizhuthian. It was doubtful any of the sailors knew the language of the Empire. Despite my master's crimes, he still wore the topknot of a Shizhuthian Warleader. I was his reward for leal service to the naga rulers of the Empire.

I preferred serving him than my naga mistress. His cruelty excited, not harmed, me. Farson had won my loyalty and heart for his crimes. He did not need the collar to keep me at his side. But I was glad he kept it on me. I liked everyone knowing he owned me.

His hand stroked up my tail. He pressed behind me and leaned over, his lips brushing my ear. It twitched as he whispered, “They never could beat your curiosity out of you.”

“No, Master,” I breathed, pressing my ass back and feeling his cock bulge his leathers. He did not wear his black armor on the ship. I purred as I rubbed my wet pussy into his crotch, grinding on him. The more he stroke my tail the hotter my poor cunt became. “I made a poor slave.”

He licked my ear. A shudder ran through my body.

We had sailed from Raratha two days ago when Farson discovered Angela's goal. The High King's sword was a revered treasure to the humans on this side of the Despeir Mountains, but to the Empire, it was unknown. After he took the bounty on the knight, Farson investigated why a Knight Deute would want the Doge's treasure, and we uncovered the legend.

She would be on the Island of Birds right now, scaling Mount Peritito. After she finished, she would come to Hargone to find the Mirage Gardens of the efreet Riad. Out in the Halanian desert, legend had it, the Gardens could be found, appearing out of the haze dancing on the horizon if an offering of nubile flesh was made.

So we would be here to wait for her and strike at the most opportune time.

Master's free hand rested on my hip. Then he stroked up my side to my round breast. He cupped it. His palm, calloused from his sword, rubbed my nipple. My purr increased. I felt his ardor rising for me.

My hand reached behind me. I felt around for the lacings of his pants. His hands squeezed my breast and stroked my tail. I yowled in delight, the pleasure surging through me as my nimble fingers untied his lacings. I reached in and found his cock. I stroked his throbbing shaft and brought it to my dripping cunt.

“Wrong hole, slave.”

My asshole clenched. “Yes, Master.”

No lube or grease coated his dick, not even my copious juices. He would hurt me and love it. I drew his dick up through the crack of my asshole. I shuddered as his thick tip rested against my sphincter.

“Rape my ass, Master,” I moaned, knowing the words would please him as much as my screams of pain.

Master thrust.

I yowled as the agony burned through my ass. He drove his cock all the way into my unlubed bowels. My body shuddered as the pain spread through me. My back arched and my claws dug into the ship's railing.

“It hurts,” I whimpered, my pussy clenching. Despite the pain, pleasure built in my core. “Please, please, pull out of my ass, Master.”

I didn't want him to pull out. His strokes were hard, fast, brutal. My tail tried to rip out of his hand, but he held it in his strong grip. My ears twitched and my mouth opened wide as I yowled in pain again. And yet my juices dripped down my thighs. My hips moved, bucking back into his thrusts.

“You're hurting me, Master.”

“So?” he grunted. “You're my slave. I can hurt you if I want. And you just have to take it.”

His balls smacked into my taint. My bowels clenched on his dick. I shuddered, the pain increasing along with the excitement in my pussy. My hips moved faster, fucking him back. I embraced the pain. I let it fill me as the tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Yes, Master. You can...hurt me,” I moaned. “The Empress's fangs, it hurts. So badly, Master.”

His hand squeezed my breast. His lips kissed at my neck. I arched it, my ears twitching as he sucked and bit. His fingers found my nipple, rolling it. I shuddered as the pleasure met the pain. They mixed together, flowing from one to the other.

It was so hard to tell where agony ended and rapture began. They were mixed up in my mind, both sending wonderful rapture flooding through my thoughts. The louder I moaned my agony, the more I loved it. The more I pressed back into his thrusts and savored his cock raping my ass. I loved it so much.

I loved him.

“Beg for my cum, slave,” he growled. “Beg for me to erupt into your ass.”

A shudder ran through me. My climax swelled. Paingasms were the strongest. They always sent me crashing into wonderful ecstasy. The tip of my tail swished back and forth as he held me in his strong grip. His dick slammed into my ass, each stroke agony and rapture.

“Cum in my ass, Master,” I yowled. My tongue licked out, gathering my salty tears. “Dump your cum in my hole. I'm your slave, Master. Your cum-dump. I live to satiate your lusts. You can hurt me and fuck me and do what you wish to me.”

His fingers pinched my nipple, his nails digging into the sensitive nub. More agony. More rapture.

I came.

My asshole spasmed about his thick cock. The pleasure rushed through my body. Intense feelings tumbled through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and yowled my bliss as my juices poured down my thighs. He thrust faster and faster, grunting into my ear as I pleasured his cock.

“That's it, embrace the pain. It's my gift to you.”

“Thank you, Master,” I groaned as my orgasm wracked my body. “Thank you for hurting me. For raping my ass. Thank you for using my body. Please, please, dump your cum in me.”

His growl of pleasure sent a flutter of delight through me. I pleased him. I loved him. I served him. The tears running down my cheeks were no longer from the pain. My heart beat so fast as he buried into me and spilled his cum. I shuddered, my bowels milking his dick as his hot seed soothed away the pain.

“My slave,” he groaned then bit my ear.

I yowled in pain, my ear twitching, my bowels clenching on his dick. “Your slave.”

I turned my head, staring at him over my shoulder. I wanted to kiss him, but he never would while in public. Not when the sailors, who should be manning the ship as it navigated the busy Elpa river to its dock, watched us.

A Shizhuthian Warleader and shadowmancer did not show affection to anyone. Love was weakness. After all, it led to Farson's crime.

But it was me he loved so I forgave that weakness.

He ripped his cock out of my asshole. The cum leaking out stung my burning sphincter. I ignored the pain and turned, kneeling before him. His cock was dirty and I had to clean it. I licked at the softening shaft, my rough tongue cleaning my sour ass from his dick.

“That is quite the slave you got,” a sailor said, advancing on my Master. He was a Halanian, his ebony skin darker than my master's swarthy complexion. I was so pale in comparison, my skin ivory. Human women tanned in the sun, but not lamia.

Farson ignored him, his hand stroking my hair. I loved it when he did that. It made my whole body tingle. I purred as I cleaned his cock of my ass, my tail swishing freely, brushing the wooden posts of the ship's railing.

“Quite the slave. How much would you charge me for a blowjob? I hear lamia's purr make a man's cock feel like it's in Slata's holy cunt.”

“You do not want to pay my price,” Master said, still stroking me.

“Sure I do.” The sailor grinned, showing white teeth. They were so bright compared to his dark skin. “I have a pouch full of coin.”

Master looked down at me, a smile crossing his lips. It was cruel. Sadistic. My pussy clenched and my tail swished faster. “Are you sure you want to pay the price?”

I purred louder and sucked on my master's cock. I loved it when he made men pay the price for using me. His fingers scratched harder between my ears and my entire body tingled.

“I do. You don't see too many lamia cunts outside the Empire. Might be my only chance.”

“Okay. Slave, suck his cock. Make him dump his cum down your throat.”

I popped my mouth of Farson's dick. “Yes, Master.”

I licked my lips and turned, reaching for the Halanian's pants. They were loose, made of linen, and held closed by a thin, rope belt. I untied the knots and the pants fell down his muscular thighs. His cock was large and thick. Halanian men always boasted on their girth.

This sailor could back up those claims.

I stroked it then leaned forward and licked the dark tip, tasting his precum. My lips parted, and I sucked his dick into my mouth. I purred, and the pirate groaned, his eyes widening as he felt the pleasure of my humming sounds. I slid his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth and swallowed his cock.

“Vedr's queef,” groaned the sailor.

“Better than the stories, eh?” my Master grinned, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.

“Yes,” groaned the sailor. His hands gripped the side of my head. “Gods, the way she hums... The pleasure of Slata's cunt.”

My ears twitched and my tail swished. I purred louder and louder as I bobbed my mouth, sliding his thick dick in and out of my throat. I fucked my mouth on his cock while my tail slid around and rubbed at the wet folds of my pussy. My stiff hairs teased my flesh. Pleasure swelled.

I hummed louder.

I focused my tail on my clit, teasing the nub with my hairs. I stroked it in circles, shuddering. As my juices matted down my hairs, I used different parts of my tail, sliding it around my pussy, keeping the dry hairs stimulating my flesh while I pleasured the Halanian.

“Keep humming,” he groaned, his body shuddering. “Gods, I'm going to erupt. It's too much. Her purring... Vedr's queef, yes. Yes.”

The muscles in his bare, sweat-glistening chest bulged. He tossed back his head. His cock throbbed in my throat as he dumped his cum straight into my belly. I rubbed my tail harder against my clit, stimulating it, pleasure floating through me, my orgasm hurtling closer and closer as the sailor's jizz warmed my stomach.

Anticipation gripped me. My heart thudded with excitement. His dick popped out of my mouth, and I smiled at him. Now he paid the price.

The sailor turned, reaching for his money pouch. “How many coins? Gods, she was worth—”

My master's dagger flashed from its sheath and cut through the air, slashing through the sailor's still hard cock. It fell to the ground. The sailor screamed and then dropped to the deck, emasculated for touching me.

I shuddered, my claws extending and digging into the planks of the decking as my orgasm crashed through me. No man touched me but my Master. His crime. I still remembered the way the general screamed as he stared at his severed cock, his cum still dripping from my sore asshole.

The crew reacted. They scrambled, grabbing clubs and truncheons. Others pounded their fists into open palms. All stared with rage at Farson. His sword was in the cabin along with his armor. But he didn't need them.

As my orgasm peaked through me, the shadows along the deck writhed and came to life. The sailors screamed in shock as their own shadows surged towards Farson, gathering at his feet like a writhing mass of tentacles, leaving each man cursing, staring in shock as they stared at the bright decks before them. The tentacles reached out, surging along the deck for them.

“Your friend agreed to pay any price,” Farson said in his deep baritone. “The fool should have asked what that was before using my slave's mouth.”

The fear bleeding off the sailors filled my nose. It was such a delectable scent. I nuzzled against my master's leg. He was so strong, and he loved me. Together, we would find Angela and her thieving companions, unleash shadows upon them, and return their heads to Raratha.

And then my Master would be so rich.

To be continued...

Click here for Chapter 1

I have released a part 31 of the revamped Devil's Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you're interested!