A gift for my readers - this ~700 word excerpt is only not available anywhere else, just on my blog. This is a little bit from Magic Everywhere. Enjoy! (And if you liked it, please do consider buying the story!)
He smiled at the girl, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time. “Straighten…” he muttered with a quick wave of his arm to heal her. The welts faded instantly, the red marks disappearing. Another bitter memory there. His father, in his harem. Whipping his slaves, healing them, whipping them again. Again and again, till the slaves were broken, left with nothing but the remembered memory of pain.
I am Salif Al-Hasn. I am the Mage Prince of Argentia. I am not my father.
Another quick gesture of his hand to remove the cuffs. She knelt again, her arms free.
Salif looked around the room, what did he have to work with? The cheap motel desk. That would do…
“Bend over the desk…” Salif said. His voice was now relaxed; his initial anger drained. Now was left only the man who would bring his pleasure slaves to repeated orgasm, spanking and cropping them till they were left teetering to the edge of arousal, so close, till his skillful tongue and fingers would push them over, and over, and over yet again.
She obeyed silently.
Salif watched her with desire in his eyes. Her skin was as soft and supple as silk. His dick twitched as he imagined the warm wetness of her pussy, of the way her buttocks would feel as he spanked them, of the muscles in her vagina clenching around his pumping cock.
“Spread your legs… wider…” His voice was hoarse.
She spread her legs wider, her hands tightening on the desk for balance. Gods, she was beautiful.
“Here,” he said, waving his hand. The magic leapt to his bidding; steel bands encircled her ankles, easing her struggles to hold her legs wide apart. “Thank you, my lord Prince,” she said softly, genuine gratitude in her voice.
Her pussy glistened with her juices; she was unmistakably aroused by his treatment of her. Salif found the cheap swivel chair, that constant fixture of budget motel rooms, and sat down, pulling the chair close to her. His hands reached out to stroke her clenched ass, kneading and pinching them.
She moaned softly.
Salif smiled, a smile of pure male satisfaction, as he read her body. The arousal was genuine.
He bent his head to inhale her sweet scent; his breath cool on her hot pussy. She smelt wonderful, of the sea, of incense and moonlight, and hot nights of pleasure. She was utterly irresistible. Salif’s tongue reached out, took a long, slow lick of her softness, savoring the taste of her arousal.
Every muscle in her body clenched, as she moaned helplessly.
“Do you like that, sweetness?”
Her answer, when it came, was ragged with desire. “Yes… Yes, my lord prince.”
Salif smiled again, bent his head into her warm, waiting softness. So wet, so tasty, so responsive. She sighed, the sound a whisper of longing in the still night, a sound sent Salif’s cock pushing almost painfully against his jeans.
His hands roamed all over her butt, as his mouth worked on her pussy. Tugging on her lips, flicking at her hard nub, causing her to start to push herself against him, only to catch herself just in time and hold still. Salif shook his head, amused and a little annoyed. That damn training.
“Let yourself feel, little one…” he chided softly. His own pleasure slaves had quickly learned that Salif loved watching them in the throes of pleasure, and had let themselves respond to him. Leila too would learn.
Another soft sigh from Leila. Another lyrical murmur. “Thank you, my lord prince.”
His tongue now steadied into a rhythm, flicking her nub, sucking her lips into his mouth, three fingers of one hand entering her lush wetness. She groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers grip the edge of the desk so tightly her fingers were starting to whiten. She pushed back slightly against him; hesitation in the gesture, as if fearing punishment. “That’s a good girl…” Salif murmured, his voice approving. She moaned and pushed back harder, grinding her pussy in Salif’s face.
Salif could tell that she was very close to orgasm; the tremors were running all through her body, he could feel the desperation in the clenched muscles of her butt, of the tightening grip of her pussy on his fingers. But she knew she would need his permission to orgasm, and by his initial order, she wasn’t allowed to plead for his permission.
***
He smiled at the girl, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time. “Straighten…” he muttered with a quick wave of his arm to heal her. The welts faded instantly, the red marks disappearing. Another bitter memory there. His father, in his harem. Whipping his slaves, healing them, whipping them again. Again and again, till the slaves were broken, left with nothing but the remembered memory of pain.
I am Salif Al-Hasn. I am the Mage Prince of Argentia. I am not my father.
Another quick gesture of his hand to remove the cuffs. She knelt again, her arms free.
Salif looked around the room, what did he have to work with? The cheap motel desk. That would do…
“Bend over the desk…” Salif said. His voice was now relaxed; his initial anger drained. Now was left only the man who would bring his pleasure slaves to repeated orgasm, spanking and cropping them till they were left teetering to the edge of arousal, so close, till his skillful tongue and fingers would push them over, and over, and over yet again.
She obeyed silently.
Salif watched her with desire in his eyes. Her skin was as soft and supple as silk. His dick twitched as he imagined the warm wetness of her pussy, of the way her buttocks would feel as he spanked them, of the muscles in her vagina clenching around his pumping cock.
“Spread your legs… wider…” His voice was hoarse.
She spread her legs wider, her hands tightening on the desk for balance. Gods, she was beautiful.
“Here,” he said, waving his hand. The magic leapt to his bidding; steel bands encircled her ankles, easing her struggles to hold her legs wide apart. “Thank you, my lord Prince,” she said softly, genuine gratitude in her voice.
Her pussy glistened with her juices; she was unmistakably aroused by his treatment of her. Salif found the cheap swivel chair, that constant fixture of budget motel rooms, and sat down, pulling the chair close to her. His hands reached out to stroke her clenched ass, kneading and pinching them.
She moaned softly.
Salif smiled, a smile of pure male satisfaction, as he read her body. The arousal was genuine.
He bent his head to inhale her sweet scent; his breath cool on her hot pussy. She smelt wonderful, of the sea, of incense and moonlight, and hot nights of pleasure. She was utterly irresistible. Salif’s tongue reached out, took a long, slow lick of her softness, savoring the taste of her arousal.
Every muscle in her body clenched, as she moaned helplessly.
“Do you like that, sweetness?”
Her answer, when it came, was ragged with desire. “Yes… Yes, my lord prince.”
Salif smiled again, bent his head into her warm, waiting softness. So wet, so tasty, so responsive. She sighed, the sound a whisper of longing in the still night, a sound sent Salif’s cock pushing almost painfully against his jeans.
His hands roamed all over her butt, as his mouth worked on her pussy. Tugging on her lips, flicking at her hard nub, causing her to start to push herself against him, only to catch herself just in time and hold still. Salif shook his head, amused and a little annoyed. That damn training.
“Let yourself feel, little one…” he chided softly. His own pleasure slaves had quickly learned that Salif loved watching them in the throes of pleasure, and had let themselves respond to him. Leila too would learn.
Another soft sigh from Leila. Another lyrical murmur. “Thank you, my lord prince.”
His tongue now steadied into a rhythm, flicking her nub, sucking her lips into his mouth, three fingers of one hand entering her lush wetness. She groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers grip the edge of the desk so tightly her fingers were starting to whiten. She pushed back slightly against him; hesitation in the gesture, as if fearing punishment. “That’s a good girl…” Salif murmured, his voice approving. She moaned and pushed back harder, grinding her pussy in Salif’s face.
Salif could tell that she was very close to orgasm; the tremors were running all through her body, he could feel the desperation in the clenched muscles of her butt, of the tightening grip of her pussy on his fingers. But she knew she would need his permission to orgasm, and by his initial order, she wasn’t allowed to plead for his permission.
***
Have a fun Monday!
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