Enslaved by the Queenlord by LCDRformat
Discover the captivating erotic tale 'Enslaved by the Queenlord' by LCDRformat. Dive into a world of desire, power dynamics, and forbidden passions as a daring protagonist navigates a darkly enchanting realm. Unleash your fantasies and explore the seduction that awaits in this thrilling sex story. Read now!<br/>
There is a land where all the women have been infected with a vampire disease, but instead of blood, they need cum. Men who travel there dress as women to pass unmolested, but sometimes they are found out and a feeding frenzy breaks out.
“If we are approached, do not speak.”
The dark hair of my bodyguard blew in the wind, and she turned her head against the breeze to shield her eyes from the drifting sand. Sonya was rugged in appearance, with a scar across the corner of her left eye. Beneath her white cloak, her rough, muscular hands lightly fingered the pommel of her shortsword. The woman had grit to her, born from a lifetime of hardship that I had never known.
She’d better have grit. I was paying her well enough.
I nodded, poking our campfire to stir a swirl of sparks that drifted into the cool desert evening. Nearby, other travelers huddled around their campfires, sharing songs and stories in women’s voices. Fortunately, a veil was a common piece of gear on a breezy desert night, and a good number of the women wore face coverings to match my own.
“Do you think any of them are vampires?” I whispered, leaning over the fire.
“Almost certainly. We’re three days’ ride to the nearest town, I’ve no doubt these hills are filled with Queenlords. They may not need the water,” She gestured to the well nearby, “But many will linger here, hoping some man will be foolish enough to trek through the heart of their territories… and stop for a drink,” Sonya’s condescending glare had been constant for the last week, and I had long since ceased to care. She clearly thought I was a fool to be here.
“May I share your fire?” A woman’s voice breached our conversation, and my hand shot foolishly to the trunk I sat on.
I ran a palm over the lock. Sonya had chided me about publicly displaying where my valuables were kept, but I did not have the lifetime of mistrust that had been beaten into my bodyguard.
“It’s so cold, and so quickly,” The woman who approached us wore typical desert clothing, a white cloak tightly wrapped around her body and a cowl about her head. She smiled with her lips closed, a sign I wasn’t supposed to trust.
“We’re not sharing, sorry.” Sonya was brusque. I appreciated her for it.
“And what about you, cutie, do you mind sharing? My wives and I could keep you warm tonight.” The woman looked into my eyes, and I looked away quickly. I shook my head silently.
“She’s not interested,” Sonya spoke for me.
‘My wives,’ she’d said. A harem was not a certain sign that she was a vampire Queenlord, but it didn’t help her case either.
“But she’s so cute. I love a woman with… manly hands,” The stranger ran her tongue over her lips, eyes locked on me. I began to sweat, which was not good. The more I sweated, the more they could smell me.
My bodyguard stood, pulling the hem of her cloak back to reveal her sheathed sword.
“I said she’s not interested,” Sonya repeated.
The stranger’s eyes fell on the hilt of the blade, and a look of disgust flashed across her features before being replaced with a sneer.
“Suit yourselves,” She said. Without so much as the crunch of sand, our visitor disappeared silently into the night.
I swallowed, thankful for my loyal bodyguard. The silver hilt of her blade would give as much pause to a Werewolf as a Queenlord, but the message was the same.
We said nothing for the rest of the evening. We cooked and ate in silence (I slipped the food beneath my veil without removing it), and laid out our bedrolls beneath the stars. As I moved to douse the fire, Sonya stopped me.
“I’m going to pee, leave the light on. And don’t do anything stupid,” She said, strolling off into the night.
I sat by the steadily dimming fire for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the return of my bodyguard. As the stars moved across the sky, the sound of the wind slowly died, indicating the passing of dusk into the true night time. As my eyes grew heavy, I yawned.
“What a deep voice you yawn with.”
I snapped my mouth shut. The stranger from before had appeared almost out of thin air, sitting across from me at the campfire. I didn’t reply, silently begging Sonya to return quickly.
“It’s not unusual for women to hire mercenary bodyguards for protection in the desert.”
The stranger pretended to stare into the fire, but her eyes continually flicked to me, an unpleasant mixture of both wild hunger and heavy-lidded seduction.
“It’s not unheard of for men to do the same.”
I did not reply. Logs shifted in the fire. I stared into her hungry eyes. I felt a pit form in my stomach, a heavy feeling of dread and regret. She knew.
“They always run into the same problems though.”
She smiled, baring her vampiric fangs. Her demeanor shifted in an instant. With a single movement, she unclasped her cloak and tossed it aside. As she stood naked before me, the wind whipped up again as if by magic, carrying her cloak into the night.
“Mercenaries can be bought!” She yelled, her animalistic voice splitting the night, her guttural laugh fading into a howl of delight. Instinctively, I backed away from her, falling backwards off of the trunk. The laughter surrounded me now, and I heard many voices joining the Queenlord’s.
“My wives will drink you!” She cried, leaping across the fire. Her bare foot came down on my chest, and I looked up in awe at her naked form.
She was pale beyond imaging, with skin as white as porcelain. In shape, her body was perfection. She had a thin waist and wide hips, with large round breasts and a slender neck. Her nipples seemed to want to be pink – but a lack of warmth in her body gave her areolas a gray hue. Her black hair blew wildly around her head, and her features – a short, pointed chin and high cheekbones – were as sharp as her unwavering gaze.
“But I will drink you first.”
Hands clawed at my body from the darkness around me. There must have been half a dozen vampires in the Queenlord’s coven. I saw flashes of them in the waning firelight. Some were sickly pale like their mistress, others had been dark skinned in life, cursed now with a deathly ash black. All were naked and horny and beautiful, slavering over me. Were it not for the potential permanence of my situation, I would have enjoyed the attention of such lovely creatures.
“Have fun girls, but remember… he’s mine.” The Queenlord stepped back into the shadow, and her coven swarmed me.
Their claws hurt as they tore at my clothes. Blood welled from shallow cuts and scrapes along my torso and legs as they hungrily ripped my cloak from my body. Normal vampires would have torn me apart in a feeding frenzy to expose more of my blood, but with the Desert Maidens, blood was not their goal. I felt hands groping blindly through the melee, squeezing my penis, pulling on it, fingers cupping my balls eagerly, excited to feel the touch of manflesh.
I tried to fight, to stand to my feet, to roll over and throw them off of me, but I was overwhelmed. A single vampiress straddled my shoulders, and with demonic fury she pressed her cold, wet cunt against my face.