The World of Erasthay

The Rogue's Harem Book Three: The Rogue's Passionate Harem

Chapter Seventeen: A Lubenite Wedding

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2018

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Story Codes:MF fantasy magic voy

Click here for Chapter 16

Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Princess Ava

Excitement bubbled through me. I was about to be free of the corrupted priestess's spell, free of the depraved lust for my father, and I was about to be married to my Sven. Plus more. A giddy rush shot through me as I drifted to Sven, the others moving with me. Zanyia scampered to me, a toothy grin on her face, her tail swishing back and forth.

“I know,” I told her, feeling her excitement to. “I know!”

Thea and Otmar turned and, hand in hand, drifted towards the altar. We followed, Sven still looking like a poleaxe hit him the face. I don't think he was prepared to be married to all of us. I had a feeling Sven never really thought he would be married. Not even when he proposed to me over a year ago.

The event that lead to the fire. To my father's... rash actions.

The reality was hitting him. He kept glancing at Kora clinging to his right side. Of course he couldn't believe he was marrying her. She was his sister. It went against all Zeutchian customs for siblings to marry. But the religion of Luben didn't mind. Not if they loved each other. And Sven must have proven he loved us all.

At the altar, Sven, Kora, Nathalie, Greta, and I knelt. The three non-humans, the three non-Zeutchians, blinked. Then Zanyia knelt beside me. A moment later, Ealaín clinked and clattered as she settled her armored form down beside Kora. Last Aingeal gave a flutter of her wings and drifted down to settle on the ground, shaking her head, her pink hair dancing about her shoulders in mirth.

Maybe it was a little silly, but that was how Lubenite weddings worked. Though normally it was only the bride and groom who knelt. Well... We were all the brides to Sven. Even Ealaín. I glanced at the aoi si, her midnight-black face looked as stunned as Sven's, the same poleaxe whacking her, too.

“Beneath the loving gaze of Luben, these souls have come to unite in fidelity. To pledge themselves and bind themselves together in this life and beyond,” Otmar said, his voice booming through the room, preaching like there was the normal wedding guests in attendance.

I didn't care. Another giddy rush washed through them. Married!

“All souls are born with something missing,” Thea said, “a hole that yearns to be filled. Like a key into a lock, out there lurks that other soul that shall complete us, and that we shall complete.” She paused. “Sometimes, it takes more than one soul. More than one love.”

I squirmed, grabbing Zanyia's hand and smiling. Her ears twitched and a rumbling purr rose in her throat. Her ears twitched.

“Bless them Luben,” both priest and priestess intoned as they turned to face them. “As you blessed us.”

Together, the two priests of Luben opened their robes and slipped out of them. Zanyia blinked, her purr faltering as the naked Otmar and Thea embraced. The lamia gave me a questioning look, her golden, cat-slitted eyes wide.

“They show their love and unite together to power the magic of their blessing ritual,” I whispered to her as Otmar's hands caressed his wife's curvy body. “Don't masturbate.”

“But...” Zanyia squirmed, her hand squeezing mine tight.

“That'll be hard,” Nathalie whispered as she knelt on my other side, holding Greta's hand.

“Uh-huh,” my busty bedmaid nodded. “He's sexy for an older man. Look at that body. He's still fit.”

“And she's a mature beauty,” Sven groaned from my other side, envy in his voice. He did want that woman bad.

Well, it was good for a woman to turn him down.

Otmar draped his wife over the altar. They kept kissing, their hands moving, but it lacked... a certain eroticism. They were performing. Acting. They'd made love on the altar for so many weddings. For decades. It was perfunctory to them. Just part of the ritual and...

“Otmar!” Thea groaned as he penetrated her, a wanton and wicked sound.

He thrust away at her with vigor. His balls smacked hard into her. His surprisingly muscular ass pumped up and down, burying his cock over and over into her pussy. She moaned and groaned, her fingers clawing at his back, their passion building and building.

That hot itch built and built in me. I squirmed. Though their love-making started out a little rote, now that they had united their bodies, merging into one flesh, the passion made me tremble. My pussy grew hot. I ached to be taken hard by...

I wouldn't think of my father.

I glanced at Sven kneeling near me with Aingeal and Kora on either side of him. I stared at his young, chiseled face, his blond hair falling around his face, those lustrous locks. His body was strong and graceful at the same time. That dangerous grace of a fighter. A man who wasn't afraid of danger.

Who didn't sink into a proxy to fight his enemies or enslave his own people. I didn't need my father, and soon I would be free of the bastard.

Thea's moans swelled. They echoed through the vast halls. Her husband grunted, kissing at her neck, his hands squeezing those lush tits of her. She undulated her hips, her thighs wrapped about his waist, gripping him.

My free hand rubbed at my skirt. I wanted to slide it higher up my thigh. I wanted to press between my legs. My pussy was so hot but... but... I couldn't masturbate. That wasn't what I should be doing. It wasn't why I was here.


“Otmar!” Thea groaned. “Otmar, yes!”

Zanyia purred beside me, squirming back and forth. Her ears twitched. Her small breasts rose and fell. Her nipples hard. So suckable. I licked my lips, my hand squeezing hers. She squeezed back, her palms as sweaty as mine.

“Thea!” the priest grunted.

“Yes, yes, I'm almost there,” she moaned. “Oh, Luben, thank you!”

My pussy clenched as Thea's orgasm exploded from her lips. Her body heaved beneath her husband. My nipples ached against my bodice. My free hand clenched my skirt, balling it up as I whimpered in envy.

“Thea!” he grunted, ramming into her. His back flexed. His moans echoed through the room. He was cumming in her. He was spurting his jizz into his wife's pussy.

A passionate union of love.


Kora Falk

I trembled as the two priests had their orgasms. I squeezed my brother's hand. Such a giddy thrill ran through me. I was marrying him. Not just claiming to be his wife, not pretending that we were united, but an actual ceremony blessed by the God Luben. I never imagined this would be possible.

Otmar and Thea didn't care about the incest. They just cared about our love.

“Luben,” the two priests moaned together as their pleasure peaked, “bless this temple. Let your love spread to his unique couple. Let them feel your touch on their hearts, pierced by your unerring arrow. They are united, as we are. Love has brought them together and forged them into one.”

I let out a happy squeal, my eyes misting with tears. I could feel the God of Marriage and Fidelity gazing down on us from his astral home of the Cloud Palace. I squeezed Sven and Ealaín's hands while wishing I had more so I could squeeze Ava's, Zanyia's, Aingeal's, Greta's, and Nathalie's hands, too. I wanted to share this joy with all of them.

We were about to be married.

Otmar dismounted his wife. I could see her pussy, framed by her blonde curls. White cum and her juices leaked out of her and trickled down to the altar made of equal balance of black and white marble. The moment their combined fluids touched it, light exploded.

A radiance burst through the room. It at once glowed both white and black. But not a harsh darkness, but a welcoming warmth. The twin hues, impossible to coexist together, blended and swirled and then merged into all the colors and yet were none of them. Reds and blues and purples and greens and yellows and oranges and browns and more spilled through the room, washed over us. The love of the two priests formed a tapestry around us, a living painting that writhed and undulated and touched all our souls.

I felt the inspiration of it. It hugged me, caressed me, united me with all those I loved. It engulfed Sven and his harem. I let out a peals of laughter while tears of joy seared down my cheeks. I swayed between my brother and my muse.

The light faded.

Otmar and Thea stood robed before us, their faces flushed, broad smiles on their lips. They gazed out at us then their gaze fell on Ava. The princess quivered, holding the lamia's hand. Her strawberry-blonde locks spilled about her regal face.

“Before the loving gaze of Luben,” the pair intoned together, “God of Marriage and Fidelity, do you, Princess Ava of Kivoneth, swear to cherish, protect, and support Sven Falk, Kora Falk, Aingeal of Faerie, Zanyia, Demigoddess Ealaín, Greta, and Nathalie in times of plenty and sparse, in times of health and pestilence, in times of fortune and poverty, to hold your vow through life and beyond into death?”

“I do,” Ava said in a ringing voice, her head lifted high, diamonds trickling down her cheeks.

Zanyia purred louder.

The priests gaze switched to me. They spoke the vows, naming all those I cared for. My heart fluttered at each name spoken. I nodded my head and declared, “I do.”

“I do,” Aingeal purred.

“Oh, yes, I do!” Zanyia yowled. “Master owns me! He doesn't get a choice! He has to keep me!”

“I... I do...” Ealaín said, her voice choked when her turn came.

“Yes, yes, I do,” Greta said, bouncing beside Nathalie.

“I do!” Nathalie said, beaming a smile as she gazed at Sven.

And last the priests asked Sven the same vows, spoken in the same intonation. My brother drew in a deep breath. “I do.”

“By Luben's blessing, we declare you wedded to Sven Falk and each other. You may celebrate your union.”

The light exploded around us once more.

To be continued...

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