Finding His Goddess, page 14
“Thank you, T’zaren,” she said, trying to sound professional despite the bizarre situation. “You’re a, uh, very good manservant.”
She reached back to pull up the train of her stretchy green gown, only to find that there was a slit in it, just as there was in the front. The seamstress must have put it there when she was in the back, trimming the hem! So the two sides of the dress opened naturally—allowing Lucy to expose her pussy, just as Lady Twa’linda had—so she could sit on T’zaren’s cock.
She gripped the metal frame arms of the entropy chair as she lowered herself down. At least she didn’t have to be afraid of squishing his other shaft, she thought, since it was tucked beneath the black leather seating straps. Still, it was incredibly strange and awkward to sit down and feel the broad, mushroom shaped head of his secondary shaft nudging between her pussy lips.
As soon as they made contact, she felt something warm and slippery sliding sensuously against her clit.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, looking down between her legs. “What—?”
“My warming pleasure liquid,” T’zaren growled softly.
“Oh, um…that’s really not necessary,” Lucy told him. Though to be honest, it felt kind of good. Better than good, actually—the warm, slippery pleasure cream was coating her inner folds and making her clit feel extremely sensitive.
“My body makes it automatically—I can’t stop it. Forgive me.” T’zaren’s deep voice sounded strained. “Unless you’d prefer to ride my primary shaft?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. “That one does not secrete any warming cream. Though it does make seed to plant deep in a female’s belly.”
“Oh, er—no. No thank you,” Lucy said quickly. “The secondary shaft will be fine.”
“Do hurry up and put your manservant inside you, my dear,” Lady Twa’linda said from across the table. She was beginning to look rather impatient. “The fleur’igan soup, you know!”
“Oh yes—yes, of course. Sorry,” Lucy apologized. She settled herself more fully on the straps and had the awkward sensation of the broad, mushroom shaped head of the big Monstrum’s cock sliding into the mouth of her pussy.
But it wasn’t just the head, she thought as she felt it slide inside her. More of T’zaren’s shaft was going inside her—he was almost halfway into her pussy now!
“Hang on,” she said, wiggling a bit. “Let me just…” She fumbled with the side of the chair. Now where were those controls at?
Her fingertips found a row of buttons and she pressed one, meaning to lift herself up so that the head of T’zaren’s secondary shaft just barely kissed the mouth of her pussy.
Unfortunately, she must have pushed the wrong button. Because instead of raising her, the metal frame of the chair’s arms began to lower, sinking her down and sliding the secondary shaft deeper and deeper inside her pussy.
“Lucille…My Lady…” T’zaren’s growled in her ear. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing?”
“Sorry!” Lucy gasped. Had she thought that his secondary shaft was much smaller and more manageable? Well it certainly didn’t feel like that now! In fact, it seemed to be swelling—getting thicker and longer as it slid deeper and deeper into her pussy. “Why…why is it getting bigger?” she gasped, fumbling with the buttons.
“Because you’re stimulating it,” T’zaren growled. “I thought we agreed you would only take the head inside you?”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Lucy muttered back. “Here—this button must raise me up.”
But it didn’t. When she pushed the second button, it only lowered her faster until she found herself nestled securely in the big Monstrum’s lap with his secondary shaft inside her to the hilt. She could feel the broad head pressing hard against the end of her channel and the warm, slippery pleasure liquid leaking inside her and making her pussy wetter and hotter by the minute.
“Wrong…button…my Lady,” T’zaren grated out. He shifted his hips restively and Lucy moaned as the head of his cock gave the mouth of her womb a deep, intimate kiss.
“Hang on—I…I think this must be the one!” she exclaimed breathlessly.
She pressed a third button thinking surely it would be the one that raised her up…only to find that it did nothing of the kind.
As she pressed it, she felt all the wires strung from the metal frame of the chair vibrate with a musical twanging sound—not unlike a banjo.
And then, all Hell broke loose.
After the initial vibration, the metal wires that formed the seat T’zaren was sitting on began to bounce and jangle as they lifted and lowered the big Monstrum. They started slowly at first but then went more and more rapidly.
“Oh…Oh!” Lucy gasped For the fact that T’zaren was being lifted up and down by the entropy chair’s strings meant that his shaft was sliding in and out of her. Faster and faster the entropy chair went, lifting and lowering as it twanged musically, amounting to an extremely energetic—and strangely musical—fucking.
“Gods damn it—I’m going to come if we don’t stop this!” she heard T’zaren groan.
“No!” she gasped, forgetting that he’d promised her his warming cream couldn’t get her pregnant. “No—don’t come in me!”
“I won’t be able to help it if this damn thing doesn’t let me stop fucking you!” he growled, gripping her hips. “Gods, Lucille! Your soft little pussy is so hot and wet around me!”
“Well, if I’m wet it’s because you’re shooting all that, uh, warming cream stuff inside me. Oh…oh!” Lucy moaned.
The intimate friction of his thick secondary shaft sliding in and out of her was almost too much to bear. She hadn’t had sex in months and sex with Mike had never amounted to much of anything, anyway. Her ex was so small she had often thought it was like being fucked with a feather.
Not so with T’zaren. His secondary shaft had swelled until it stretched her inner walls and the broad head thrust deep inside her, reaching the end of her channel with every lunge as the chair continued to make him fuck her.
“Wait…stop…this one must be it!” Lucy panted.
She pressed the button but somehow found it was the one that lowered her again. The chair stopped twanging like a sex-banjo gone mad, but once more she found herself nestled in the big Monstrum’s lap with his thick shaft buried fully inside her.
“Gods, my S’rentha—forgive me but I can’t help it,” he groaned. And Lucy felt the first hot, wet spurt inside and knew the big Monstrum was coming deep in her pussy.
Maybe it was the deep fucking she’d just endured or maybe it was some chemical effect of the warming liquid his shaft produced but for whatever reason, Lucy felt herself coming right along with him.
“Oh! Oh!” she moaned, clutching at the metal frame of the chair as the pleasure rolled through her. This was completely inappropriate and she knew it and yet she couldn’t seem to stop! Her inner walls were contracting, almost milking him as though she was begging him to come even deeper inside her—to bathe her inner pussy utterly with his cream.
“My dear—why ever did you hit the fuck button so early in the meal?” Lady Twi’linda scolded. “You’re meant to save such activities for dessert.”
Lucy, who was still distracted with the waves of pleasure rolling through her, realized that their hostess was sitting across the table, frowning at her with apparent disapproval.
“I…I’m sorry. So sorry!” she gasped. “I…I didn’t mean to…to hit the…the fuck button!”
Her fingers found the buttons again and somehow she finally hit the right one. As her orgasm peaked and she began to come down the other side of the slope, she found herself being raised up so that T’zaren’s secondary shaft at last slid out of her.
Only instead of stopping with just the head inside, as she had intended, it slid all the way out. And when the head came out of her pussy mouth, it was like a cork being popped from a bottle of champagne. A gush of creamy liquid came from her pussy, overflowing onto the leather seat strap and dripping to the floor below.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” Lucy exclaimed, feeling completely mortified. There must be a liter of the warming cream leaking out of her, she thought. Who knew a Monstrum could come so much? And he was still hard, too!
“My, my…he certainly did fill you up.” Lady Twa’linda shook her head and made a tsking sound. “Servants—bring towels,” she added, snapping her fingers. “And please don’t worry my dear—these things happen,” she added, smiling in a kindly way at Lucy. “We’ll get you cleaned up and send for that soup before it’s ruined, shall we?”
As a uniformed server handed her a towel, Lucy nodded rather shakily. She felt tender inside and her whole body was trembling from the aftermath of her orgasm. Damn, that had been intense! She couldn’t remember ever coming so hard and her clit was still throbbing as though her body was threatening to come again.
Gingerly, she blotted at herself and T’zaren—who was still hard—and then the leather seat. The floor was going to be someone else’s problem—there was no way she was dismounting to clean up the puddle she’d made and then trying to get back up into the seat and mounted on T’zaren’s cock properly again.
“Very good. Servants, bring the fleur’igan soup,” Lady Twa’linda called. “And Lady Lucille, my dear, just lower yourself back down to the proper level,” she added to Lucy. “We can’t have exposed shafts at the dinner table, after all.”
“We…we can’t?” Looking across the table, Lucy saw that the Dom’mesque was seated fully in her guard’s lap so that his shaft was buried to the hilt inside her once more.
“Of course not! While we’re eating, you must conceal your manservant’s shaft within yourself,” Lady Twa’linda said primly. “That’s etiquette.”
Lucy supposed it really didn’t matter anymore. The entropy chair had already made the big Monstrum fuck her and fill her with his cream—what did she care if he had to be deep inside her during the rest of dinner? Yes it was awkward but not as awkward as what they’d just been through—a banjo fucking worthy of Deliverance.
Biting her lip, she started to reach for the buttons but T’zaren brushed her hand away.
“Allow me, my Lady,” he grated in her ear. And then he pushed the button that lowered her fully onto him again, so that his thick shaft pierced her to the core.
“Oh…uh…” Lucy wiggled uncertainly. She was still tender from the chair’s rough fucking and he was so big inside her! She could really feel her inner walls being stretched by his smaller shaft—thank goodness she didn’t have the larger one inside her!
“My lady, why are you shifting around like that?” T’zaren’s voice was a low, warning growl.
“I’m just trying to get comfortable!” Lucy protested. “You’re so big and you’re still so hard. Don’t Monstrum get soft after they come?”
“Of course not—how could we continue to pleasure our females if our shafts wilted after shooting?” he demanded. “Why—do human males have that problem? They get soft after they shoot?”
“Some of them are soft even before they shoot,” Lucy said, thinking of Mike again. “But yes—they have what’s called a ‘recovery time’ between when they come and when they can get hard and, er, perform again.”
“No wonder so many human females are turning to Kindred and Monstrum males to find mates,” T’zaren remarked. “It’s pathetic to get soft so quickly after an orgasm.”
“Well right now I kind of wish you were a little softer,” Lucy muttered, wiggling again.
“What you’re doing is making me harder,” he growled in her ear. “Keep it up if you want me to come inside you again—I won’t be able to help it.”
“Sorry.” Lucy subsided at once. She was just going to have to get used to sitting there with the big Monstrum’s cock buried inside her, she supposed. She just wished she didn’t feel so swollen and achy down below! Her entire pussy felt sensitive and hot and her clit seemed to be throbbing like a second heartbeat. Did it have anything to do with T’zaren’s warming cream that he’d coated her inner folds with?
She had no idea but she told herself she would just have to ignore the strange sensations and make the best of things for the rest of dinner.
TWENTY-SEVEN
T’ZAREN
T’zaren did his best to sit perfectly still though the feeling of Lucille’s sweet, soft pussy sucking his cock was almost too much to bear. His secondary shaft wasn’t even meant for fucking—except in a bonding situation, of course. But the damn chair had forced him to fuck her so vigorously that he couldn’t help coming deep in her pussy—something which shamed him deeply since he had been trying hard not to fill her with his cream.
His primary shaft was aching too—that was the one he especially wished he could bury in her pussy. Of course, she was complaining of how big his secondary shaft was, even though it was much smaller than the primary one, but once the warming liquid he had filled her with took effect, she would be able to stretch easily to take the primary one.
She’s not going to take the primary one, though, he reminded himself. Because you’re not bonding her to you!
Which meant that the effects of the warming liquid wouldn’t be neutralized by his seed, which was the usual way things went with a Stri’vor Monstrum and his S’rentha. Which further meant that Lucille might have some problems later.
Well, he couldn’t tell her that now, T’zaren thought. The servants had finally brought the soup and Lady Twa’linda was excitedly explaining all about it while Lucille tried to look bright and interested. As if either of them could concentrate on anything as banal as soup when they were so intimately joined!
There was another reason this situation upset him, though. It was the fact that the practice of “shaft sitting” wasn’t unknown among his people. It was often a trial of endurance that a female would inflict on a male when she was debating if she wanted to bond with him or not. Sometimes, if a female made the Sen Stripes of several males flare, she would even conduct this test on all of them at once in order to choose the one she wanted.
The last time he had been to his home world—before the Darklings took over—T’zaren had seen such a trial. A female had caused the Sen Stripes of three different males to flare and of course it was her prerogative to choose which one she wanted. She had lined them up, seated on chairs with their naked, hard shafts sticking up, and had tested each in turn by sitting in his lap and allowing his shaft to sink deep in her pussy.
In this case, the female in question had been facing the males and allowing their primary shafts to fill her, while the secondary shafts teased her Goddess pearl. She had taken her time choosing, riding each male to test his endurance. If a male came—shooting his seed in her pussy—he was automatically disqualified. This happened to two of the contestants and it was the third male that the female chose to be her mate.
He alone had been able to withstand her sweet, sucking pussy milking his shaft as she rode him and let her breasts with their tight nipples bounce in his face. And thus he had been proclaimed the winner and had been able to claim her as his S’rentha while the other two had to go home in shame.
The fact that he hadn’t been able to stop himself from coming shamed T’zaren as well. He should have been able to hold out, he told himself—no matter how vigorously the entropy chair caused him to fuck the little blonde, he should have been able to stop himself from coming and filling her with his cream.
Yet he hadn’t been able to stop—Lucille had the sweetest, hottest, tightest pussy he’d ever felt and all he wanted was to fill her up again and again and bond her to him so he could go on doing it forever…
Stop it—what are you thinking? he asked himself. She can’t be your S’rentha—not really. You must stop thinking this way about her—stop feeling the need to claim her and possess her and serve her!
And yet the feelings continued to intrude, no matter how he tried to stop them. T’zaren tried to tell himself he was only feeling this way for the little female because his secondary shaft was still buried deep in her pussy…but he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.
He was beginning to have very strong feelings for the curvy little human in his lap and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to stop them.
TWENTY-EIGHT
LUCY
As it turned out, fleur’igan soup looked a lot like high quality olive oil. It was thick and viscous and clear with a slightly greenish tint to it. It wasn’t particularly hot either, which made Lucy wonder why Lady Twa’linda had been so anxious for it to get to the table before it “spoiled.”
One ate the soup using a long glass straw and the flavor reminded Lucy of wheatgrass juice, which wasn’t her favorite. Still, she sipped it politely as Lady Twa’linda chattered on about how rare it was and how difficult it was to get the ingredients.
Lucy nodded and smiled but all the while she felt like her pussy was getting hotter and more and more achy and swollen. What in the world was wrong with her? She didn’t dare to look down between her legs but she was extremely conscious of the fact that T’zaren’s thick shaft was still shoved all the way in her to the root, probably leaking more of that warming cream he had filled her with so copiously at the beginning of the meal.
She wished she could wiggle and try to get more comfortable, but she was well aware that might make him come in her again. So she sipped her soup through the clear glass straw and tried to smile and make polite conversation and ignore the fact that her clit with throbbing and her pussy was stuffed with the big Monstrum’s enormous cock.
Lucy was about to take another sip of her soup when she saw something strange was happening in the deep tureen the server had placed in front of her. Little black spots were appearing on the surface of the soup—little black blobs that looked like balsamic vinegar floating in olive oil, she thought.
“What are those?” she asked, using her straw to point at the black blobs.
