Vashti Valant - Slave of the Goblin

Laya felt the biceps in Akraz’s arm tense. “Have I any choice in the matter?”

“Normally, one would, but in this case, considering your actions…” The king let his gaze slid to Laya. “No. I do not think you do.”

Akraz vaguely knew the names and attributes of the gods of Light, but not well enough to recognize the life-size white marble statue in the temple. The sculptor had endowed the deity with a physique that merely mortal men must indeed aspire to and women worship. Two silk red ribbons had been wrapped around the god’s wrists after the fact. The god himself had been carved to display his magnificence without the interference of clothes, unless the gold coating on his erect and generous member counted as a garment.

Like every building Akraz had seen in Sylvindell, the temple exuded grace. Flowing fountains, living flowers, slender pillars netted in gold filigree, these he had come to expect. He did not expect to find a bed veiled by a bower of lace directly before the gaze of the smiling god. The crimson satin sheets had been covered with a layer of red rose petals. A window directly overhead bathed the bed in a beam of moonlight.

Nor did he expect to find a luscious, naked green-eyed blonde in the bed. Rose petals had been pooled over her shaved pubis and balanced on the tips of her breasts. Her skin gleamed as alabaster as the marble statue.

“Laya,” he said her name hoarsely.

He had never seen her look more beautiful. She lay with her arms over her head and her legs spread like a virgin sacrifice. Suddenly, he remembered the elven king’s ominous talk of rites and sacrifices. Akraz was not a religious man. Worship of the Dark God involved rape, torture and death. He did not know the god of this temple, but the god’s randy statue gave Akraz little reassurance that matters were much different. Akraz did not like the idea of involving Laya in such a rite.

“Why are you here?” Akraz asked.

“I am yours to take. That is the ceremony, Akraz.”

“No.” He pressed his hand against his scabrous jowls. He had never cared how ugly he looked as long as he had only had to deal with other toughs in an equally raw environment. Whenever he was with Laya, however, he wanted to be something finer.

“I won’t do it,” said Akraz. “Not like this.”

Laya sat up. Rose petals fluttered from her breasts. Her own nipples were as rosy as any buds however, so the loss did nothing to diminish her allure.

“You heard the king,” she said, her green eyes innocent. “You must go through with this ceremony.”

“If you wish, we can wait until I have a chance to reverse the timing of the spell. I will look like this during the day, and come to you at night as my true self. Is that what you want?”

“Oh, Akraz.” Laya stroked his cheek. He flinched at the idea of her sweet fingers rasping his scrags and warts. “I realized that it isn’t up to me to pick and choose which aspects of you to love. I love all of you. If you want to be a monster by night and a man during the day, or if you want to show the monster to the world at large and come to me with your face fair, I do not care. Take me in either form, for I belong to you.”

“I will not take you, Laya.” Akraz folded his arms and clenched his jaw mulishly.

One of her hands stole between her legs. She began to stir the petals on her cunt. Akraz stared, mesmerized. Most of the petals slid down her cleft back to the bed. Laya captured one and brushed it back and forth over her clit. His breath quickened.

She spread herself even wider. The folds of her labia opened like a blossom. Now with three fingers, she rubbed her clit in tiny circles. Soon it was as red as the petals. Creamy dew accumulated in her slit. Laya trailed her fingers in her quim and then, once they were sticky, she slid her fingers into her pussy.

Akraz fought his arousal. Thinking of how atrocious he must appear to her—that helped quash the rebellion in his loins.

“It won’t work, Laya.”

She sighed. “Then I must offer myself to Chamalon.”

“Chamalon?”

“The god.”

“You would kill yourself?” Akraz had no intention of allowing that.

“Chamalon is not that sort of god, Akraz. Remember, he is a god of the Light.”

Laya stretched her nude body in the rose petals. Akraz watched her suspiciously when she went to kneel on a red velvet cushion between the legs of the life-size statue of the god.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

He could see what she was doing. She was taking the realistically sculpted golden phallus into her mouth. His groin tightened. She licked and kissed the gold cock with sensuous abandon. Akraz could not watch. He didn’t look away either. His cock grew jealous. Damn, he didn’t have shred of clothing on to hide the effect she had on him.

Laya stood up, turning, so that she faced Akraz and had her back to the god. She grabbed the crimson scarves looped around the god’s outstretched wrists. Using these for leverage, she pulled herself up and then plunged her wet pussy down onto the phallus. She yowled, arched her back and thrust out her breasts.

Akraz turned on his heel and marched in the opposite direction. Let the elves lock me in a pit, kill me, rip out my tongue, whatever they will. It can’t be worse torture than this .

He had his hand on the handle to door of the temple to leave, when he heard Laya yelp in real surprise and alarm.

The gold phallus slid into her cunt. It felt delicious. Cool, hard, smooth. But it couldn’t compare to Akraz’s own flesh and blood cock. Laya had hoped that the sight of her cleaved by the white marble god would goad Akraz into taking her himself. Instead, the infuriating male turned his back and abandoned her.

Gods of Light, please help me! And since she was in Chamalon’s arms, impaled upon his divine rod, she did something she seldom did and pleaded directly with the god of love and truth. Chamalon, I beg you to help me win my beloved from your dark brother!

The metallic phallus jumped to life in her pussy. Jogged up and down upon the rod, she could only gasp in surprise. But when two cool marble hands closed on her breasts, she screamed in real fear.

Akraz ran back to her. He scrambled to draw a sword. That didn’t work too well, since he was as buck naked as she was. Laya could see her own fear and astonishment mirrored in his dropped jaw and wide eyes.

The marble statue had come to life. Oh it was still stone. The relentless pounding of the gold phallus in her cunt told her that. But the statue now controlled Laya instead of the other way around. The marble god massaged her breasts with his stone fingers. The gentleness of the touch, despite the unforgiving material, surprised her. Marble fingertips pinched her nipples between them with just the right amount of pressure to taunt her with a hint of pain, but not enough to damage. In fact, now that her initial fright had worn off, Laya found herself responding to the marble god’s vigorous use of her body.

Akraz must have noticed the change, the way she relaxed into the god’s embrace. His expression shifted too, to furious jealousy. The grotesque cant of his features made his rage look all the more ferocious.

The marble god lifted Laya up and off his phallus, then plunged her down again, this time ass aimed to receive his rod. The gold slicked up her anus. She shuddered at the ruthless penetration and would have fallen from a sudden wave of weakness, except that the marble god held her up by her breasts.

The marble god beckoned to Akraz.

“She belongs to me,” snarled Akraz.

Then take her , echoed the thought words in both their minds. I am but a tool, a magic toy left here by the touch of Chamalon to bring to life the fantasies of those who worship him .