Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“There now!” Lady Twa’linda exclaimed, clapping her hands again. “You may put your footwear back on, manservant, but as long as you and your Lady stay in my stronghold, this will be your uniform. I find your double shaft so interesting I want to see it always.”
This seemed like a horribly embarrassing situation to Lucy but T’zaren only bowed stoically and murmured,
“As the Dom’mesque wishes.”
“Good! Now then—I do believe it’s time for dinner,” Lady Twa’linda said as she rose from her throne. “Where is my favorite of the hour? Who’s on penetration duty tonight?”
All the guards turned back around and one of them raised his hand eagerly.
“I am, my Lady!” he exclaimed.
“Very good, Welston.” Twa’linda smiled at the guard who had pale green skin and a short, well-trimmed beard. “Expose your shaft please—let me see what I’ll be working with.”
At once, the guard stepped forward, unfastened his trousers, and spread a panel in the front of them wide. They seemed to be made for this because they didn’t fall off or even get loose—the panel simply opened to reveal a long, hard, dark green cock already standing at attention.
“Hmm, yes…yes, indeed.” Lady Twa’linda stepped forward and took the guard’s shaft in one pale hand. She stroked it up and down several times while the guard’s face suffused with blood, going a shade of green almost as dark as his shaft. But he didn’t move a muscle and simply submitted to the inspection without a word.
At last Lady Twa’linda seemed satisfied.
“Very nice, Welston,” she said, nodding her approval. “I’m sure I’ll greatly enjoy feeling your shaft inside me as I enjoy the lovely fleur’igan soup! Come now—let’s retire to the Banquet Hall, shall we?” she said, this time speaking to Lucy.
“Er, yes, of course.” Lucy nodded and exchanged a quick glance with T’zaren who had an unreadable expression on his face.
“Good. Then take your manservant in hand and let us proceed to the Banquet Hall in style,” Lady Twa’linda instructed her.
“Um…take him in hand?” Lucy asked uncertainly.
“Yes—take him in hand. As I have taken Welston, here, in hand.” Lady Twa’linda nodded down at the guard she had chosen for ‘penetration duty’ who still had his shaft exposed. She gripped his long, green cock firmly in one hand and then nodded at Lucy. “Well?”
“Oh, uh, of course.” Lucy stepped up to T’zaren, feeling horribly embarrassed. But what else could she do? They didn’t want to risk offending their hostess, right? She shot the big Monstrum an apologetic look as she tentatively wrapped her fingers around his larger or “primary shaft” as he called it.
As she touched him, T’zaren’s eyelids flickered closed for a moment and he drew in a deep breath. Instantly the shaft in Lucy’s hand went from semi hard to fully erect. It was hot and hard and it throbbed in her palm like a bar of newly forged iron. Also, it was so thick she couldn’t get her fingers all the way around it, though she did her best. Above it, the smaller shaft was also standing at attention.
“How very singular,” Lady Twa’linda remarked.
“Um, how big he is, you mean?” Lucy asked uncertainly. “I know, but all Kindred warriors are supposed to be well-endowed.” Which was something else Iyanna had told her.
“No, no—though you’re right, he puts all of my guards to shame, you lucky girl,” Lady Twa’linda said. “But I was talking about his back. The minute you touched him, a red and orange stripe appeared—right down his spine! What can be the meaning of it?”
“That is my Sen Stripe.” T’zaren’s voice was low and hoarse. “Only the touch of my S’rentha’s hand can make it flare to life.”
Lucy looked at him in surprise. Was that true? She thought she remembered Dra’vik saying something similar.
But if only the touch of his S’rentha makes his stripe appear and I’m the only one touching him…
But no—she pushed the thought away as ridiculous. Over and over T’zaren had told her she couldn’t be his S’rentha—his own private goddess to worship and protect. There must be some mistake. Probably the stripe thing was just a sexual response—like his shafts getting hard. But of course, it sounded nicer and more authentic to say that only his S’rentha could make it appear, since they were pretending to be a couple for the benefit of lady Twa’linda.
Speaking of the Dom’mesque, she was still eyeing T’zaren’s broad, bare back and the stripe that had appeared along his spine with bright, interested eyes.
“How very fascinating!” she said, smiling. “You know who would be interested in this? My Other Half!”
The guards around her all flinched and the one whose cock she was holding abruptly wilted in her hand, going from turgid to flaccid in an instant. This seemed to irritate Lady Twa’linda, who looked down at the shrunken peen in her fingers incredulously.