Page 93 of A Kingdom of Pleasure and Torment

The dark faerie squeals and shrieks, grinding against her companion’s face as she comes. I envy her, even after such a short time. And there is so much more denial left for Cassan and me.

“She is ready again,” one of the green faeries says, and reaches down to part my labia with her v-spread fingers. Simply being touched here, when the rest of my skin is alight with sensation, is enough to bring me to the very edge. The air of the room cooling my intimate flesh is like tongues against my clit.

“Careful,” the purple faerie warns. “Humans are so much weaker.”

“I am not weak,” I say, but my fingers curl around the straps.

The sea foam faery rises, her face shining, and approaches Cassan. “Do you want us to touch it, Your Majesty?”

He nods, his head thumping the table behind him. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

She laughs like wave hitting the shore. “Clean my face, first.”

“Fucking gladly.” He cranes his neck to reach her, his tongue extended, and laps at her face.

“She’s ready,” the green faery says again, and this time, the pink faery’s brush doesn’t stop at the top of my thigh. She runs it along the edge of one of my inner petals, up and down, barely making contact. My clit leaps every time the bristles approach, but they don’t touch it. Up one side and down, up the other, then down, working between my folds and circling my opening, dipping into my juices, until I finally beg, “Please, make me come!”

“His Majesty said no,” a green faery teases.

I look helplessly to Cassan, but he is locked in torment of his own, as the dark faerie circles the tip of a feather around the head of his cock.

Yet again, I’m at the brink and the green faery stops me.

“How are you doing that?” I pant. “How do you know?”

“I feel it,” she says and unstraps one of my hands. She guides my fingers down her body, to her dripping sex. “I feel everything you feel. But you... you can’t feel this, can you?”

She pushes my fingers inside her. She is wet and tight and hot and while I’ve never wished to have a cock before, I want one for the mere chance to bury it inside her.

“When I make myself come on your fingers, you won’t feel my release.” She pumps my hand in and out, rubs my fingers over her clit. “You’re so close,” she gasps, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re so close, so I’m so close, and I’m, I’m...”

I wail with frustration as her cunt spasms around my fingers, but no relief comes to me.

“Cenere, you can’t be so despondent already.” Cassan laughs, but it’s weak and breathy. “We have hours yet to endure.”

The tips of two brushes trace up, up, finally coming into contact with my clit for a delicious second before they pull away again.

I fear it will be the longest day of my life.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The prince’s party is held beneath a pavilion in the garden, erected especially for the occasion. The black court attire of mourning has been banished, and everyone is required to attend dressed in golds and reds, by royal decree.

Even I am dressed so, by the faeries who have tormented me all day. They worked their magic upon my appearance as they worked their magic upon my body, and I arrive at the party on a canopied palanquin with sheer golden curtains and red velvet cushions. I am bare, flushed, and desperate, my wrists restrained by golden manacles.

There hasn’t been a single moment of the day that I haven’t been on the very brink of climax. I loathe the faeries who carry me, loathe more the one that rides the palanquin, kneeling between my legs and working a slender phallus in and out of my dripping, aching cunt. I feel myself reaching the peak and no longer hope that this time will be different. I can only sob weakly when the instrument is withdrawn and the treacherous green faery waits until I’m ready again.

I’ve watched her and her matching counterpart come again and again, robbing me of pleasure that should have been mine. I’ve watched Cassan struggle and beg, too, and it’s the only reason I don’t resent him for this foolish plan.

I haven’t seen Cassan since sundown. The faeries thought it good fun to position the two of us face to face, still restrained, so close that we could feel the warmth of each others’ straining, sweating bodies. The faeries took turns stroking the head of Cassan’s cock back and forth over my clit until we both begged to be loosed from our bonds. Any other thought that might have been in my mind tonight has been drowned out by the relentless need of my body, my hunger for Cassan, and my desperation for release.

They bring my palanquin beneath the red-and-gold striped roof of the pavilion, which is brightly lit with luminous globes. There are no chairs or tables, but piles and piles of cushions, all occupied by writhing masses of fae bodies. There is a round dais placed directly in the middle of the pavilion, and that is where the faeries lower my palanquin.

They’ve brushed my curls into copper waves, painted my lips crimson, and draped a thin, golden chain around my waist. The ring through my hood has been replaced by a curved bar topped with a ruby, the small gold ball on the other end tucked directly against my clit. Every jostle threatens to tip me over the edge, but the wicked green faeries know when I am too close, and exactly how to keep me from coming.

A mixture of applause and appreciation rises above the wet smacking and feral grunting of the copulating courtiers.

I look about for Cassan, relieved that our ordeal has nearly ended. I spy him at the end of the pavilion, bound to a gilded post with his hands behind his back, bucking and shouting under the ministrations of a faery in a gold mask. The faery rubs his own cock against the prince’s with two oiled hands, stopping whenever it is evident that Cassan is close. The prince’s eyes meet mine and his chest heaves with a sigh of obvious relief.

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