Chapter Thirty-Eight
The day of King Cassan’s birthday celebration arrives, and it is as splendid and lecherous as he meticulously plans it to be. After an indulgent breakfast of sweets and pastries, he takes us to my salon, which has been cleared of all its furnishings to make room for two large, gilt tables. Soft straps and fur-lined cuffs dangle from each corner, and a row of beautiful, bare-breasted faeries stand behind an assortment of instruments. Brushes, feathers, phalluses, vibrating stones like the one Luthian gifted to me, spread out like a carnal buffet.
“No matter how we beg,” Cassan instructs them, “do not let us come.”
“There is a spell that will prevent it,” I suggest to him. “Luthian must have used it on you before.”
“Alas, I don’t have Luthian’s powers. This will make endurance all the more important.” Cassan winks at me and unfastens the cuffs of his sleeves. To the faeries, he says, “You may begin.”
Four of the beauties step forward, smiling coquettishly. They are rainbow hued, two of them pink and purple like the mermaids I lay with before. The other two are green, with pointed ears and wings that mimic tattered leaves. Their eyes are pupilless, just two orbs of shining gold that unnerve me. One of them stands to the left of me, the other to the right, but they both lean in to claim my mouth with frilled tongues.
The faeries that have gone to Cassan giggle as they undress him. He holds his hands out wide while they tear playfully at his clothes.
The pink and purple faeries are much gentler with my garments. They work the buttons down the back of my gown and slowly peel down my bodice. They loosen the laces of my corset while the green faeries eagerly free my breasts, pressing their own against my exposed skin. They feel like silk, and their mouths taste of morning dew. My body responds eagerly, unaware of how long it will be denied release.
“Your Majesty,” the purple one says, touching my foot. I raise it so she can remove my slipper. One of the green faeries leans down and takes my nipple into her mouth while I step out of the other slipper.
Cassan’s faeries cover his neck and chest in sucking kisses. His cock strains at the front of his breeches, but they make no move to release him.
I, however, am quickly naked, and led to one of the tables. The faeries secure my wrists and ankles, spreading my legs apart wide.
“Would His Majesty like to see?” One of his faeries giggles. They surround him and urge him to stand at my feet, their hands stroking over all his bare skin that they can touch.
“Think of how easy it would be,” my pink faerie coos to him. “You need only climb up onto this table, and you could be inside of her.”
“You won’t break me so quickly,” he says with a laugh. “Perhaps in a few hours, it will be more of a struggle to deny myself.”
“You are too smart for us, Your Majesty,” a blue faerie says, leaning her head on his shoulder and allowing her hand to drift down his ridged stomach. Her fingers touch the top of his breeches and pull away swiftly.
“And you have such restraint,” a pale one with long, white hair says, running her tongue around the shell of his ear. “If given the opportunity, I would be upon her in an instant. I would delve my tongue into her sweet pussy and lap up every bit of her nectar.”
As they talk about me, my faeries produce a bottle of shimmering oil. They pour it on their hands and massage it into my skin, one at each arm and one at each leg. The green faeries have taken my arms; they work their fingers almost painfully into my muscles, leaving relief in their wake. But when they reach my breasts, they retreat on a long, slow path back to my wrists.
Cassan is similarly strapped down. “Wait,” he says, once the final restraint is placed. “This is wrong. Let me correct it.”
I gasp as my table tilts up, but the pink and purple faeries simply drop to their knees to continue massaging my legs. Cassan and I are both upright now, facing each other.
“This way, I can better see you,” he says, his eyes trained on my breasts.
The faeries tending to him apply oil, as well, rubbing his arms and feet while he groans in rapture. I am similarly transported as the knots in my muscles release under skilled hands.
But as time passes, I become more and more aware of how close fingers come to touching places on my body that are beginning to wake up. Once, twice, the pink and purple faeries’ hands accidentally brush the hoop protruding between my labia, but they never touch me there. They avoid the entire area, their fingertips dipping into the crease between my thighs and my mound, but never straying further. My breasts ache for the green faeries to return their mouths to my nipples, but they focus on my shoulders and chest, never touching my breasts directly.
Cassan still has his breeches on, but a faery with skin the velvet dark of a night sky and luminous, starry eyes works the laces and frees him. His cock looks already painfully hard, the tip swollen and nearly purple.
He catches me staring and grins. “They may be touching me, Cenere, but this is all for you.”
“I can’t wait,” I breathe, and it surprises me to realize that I’m not acting. When I first arrived at court, it seemed not even an hour could pass without sex, but Cassan has not called upon me even to take him into my mouth. Days have passed without the touch of another’s hand, and I feel as though I’m starving.
“I haven’t fucked anyone else,” he says, grimacing as the faery traces an arc of oil on his stomach, avoiding his straining cock.
“I haven’t even made myself come. Not since Luthian told me he was surrendering.”
“That’s quite a long time,” I say, gasping a little as my piercing is nudged again.
One of the fairies cups his balls through the breeches. “You’re full to bursting, Your Majesty. Imagine releasing all of that into her tight, sweet pussy.”
He hisses as she walks her fingers alongside his shaft.
“Think of it,” one of the green faeries murmurs in my ear. “So much thick, hot cum filling you.”
“You’re so lucky, Your Majesty,” the pink one says, gliding her oiled hand down my inner thigh.
I lock eyes with Cassan and smirk. “If he lasts a minute, I’ll let him sentence me to another full day of this torture.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says with a breathless laugh.
The purple faery collects four of the paintbrushes and distributes them to her partners. The bristles are long and thin, pointed in a tip no wider than a single hair. They barely touch me with them as they skim the outlines of my fingers and each toe. It’s as if they’re painting my portrait on me with teasing, tickling touches. They dip the brushes in the oil, spread it over my skin with delicate strokes that make me squirm.
“Look how she enjoys their attention,” the dark faerie tells Cassan. “I think I would like that type of attention paid to me.”
His fourth faery, a lovely sea foam thing with frothy white curls kneels before the dark one. “I’ll pay attention to you, if they pay attention to us.”
My core gushes as I imagine exactly what the faery’s tongue feels like slicking up between her partner’s labia. The dark faery cups her own breast and toys with the nipple, giving a long moan. “That feels so good.”
My clit aches for contact, but my faeries touch me everywhere but where I need it, bathing every inch of me in the oil, one tiny paintbrush stroke at a time.
“Oh, fuck,” Cassan groans, and I note a shining, clear drop drooling from the head of his cock.
“What’s the matter, Your Majesty?” A golden faery taunts him. “You don’t like watching her get her pussy eaten?”
“I fucking love it,” he says through his locked jaw.
The green faeries give up their painting and lean in to suck on my neck; it tickles, but since they flank me, I can’t avoid their mouths. And still, the other two work their brushes over me. I feel my body striving for release without contact. My legs shake. I’m about to warn them that my climax is inevitable, but they seem to sense it and stop on their own.
All of the faeries stop touching us, leaving us to hang helpless in our straps as we watch the two lovers between us. The dark faerie hooks her knee over the sea-colored faerie’s shoulder, opening herself for better access. They moan and gasp in their performance, the blue-black faery urging, “Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” while her hips rock frantically against her lover’s face.
“Oh fuck, do not stop,” Cassan orders, his head lolling against the table. “By order of your king, do not fucking stop.”
Precum flows from his cock now, and the golden faery falls to her knees and leans far back, mouth open wide but never touching him. She runs her tongue through the stream and reaches between her legs to stroke herself.
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.