Monsterboy Quest Ch. 04

She gasped, more from surprise than pain, and gasped again when her other buttock received the same treatment.

"Oh!"

"Stop squirming," hissed the boy. "You can't escape. These roots obey only imp-magic. They will not release you without my permission."

He was trying to make his high voice as threatening as possible and Levinja's heart jumped at how adorably fierce he sounded.

"I– I see," she said. "But you see now I have no other weapon. Please... you have to let me go!"

The imp boy chuckled. "Perhaps I will. After I have taken what I want from you."

"Wh– what is it that you want?" whispered Levinja. Her blood was running hot, now, and she hope the boy would keep this adorably masterful persona.

"You have trespassed in the territory of the imps," the boy explained. "And you must be punished."

"But... but I thought that the matriarchs..."

She heard the boy's sharp intake of breath, but the little imp was so impassioned now that even the fear of those draconian females would not stop him. He gave a laugh which tried not to sound nervous.

"They need not know," he said quickly. "Once I have punished you, I will release you. You mean us no harm, as you said before, didn't you?"

"Yes," she replied, hoping the cracking of her voice sounded submissive rather than the desperate attempt to hide her lewd eagerness it was.

"Then perhaps I will let you go," he said, stroking her bottom. He was clearly one those boys who preferred butts to boobs. "If you please me."

"Please you?" Wait. No, Levinja – don't play too dumb. "I– I see."

She felt his talons slide under the waistband of her underwear. "You understand, then?"

"Yes," she murmured. "I will do whatever you wish. Just please, release me."

"After I have taken what I want," he said.

Her underwear slid down slowly and Levinja knew from the intake of his breath that the boy's eyes must be drinking deep of the sight of her nakedness from behind.

Men had always admired her bottom and now she was older, it had gained a pleasing and pleasurable roundness. She was awash and no doubt the boy was treated to the full richness of her lewd scent as he stared amazed at her.

She made no sound and listened to the boy's heavy breathing as he brought his face closer to her most intimate place. She could feel his warm breath on her and bit her lip. Oh, she hoped he would do more than just look!

The imp parted her buttocks gently, his thumbs on either side of her sex. Levinja cried out, then, and kicked her legs. That might give him the push he needed!

He gripped hold of her hips and hissed, no words, just a warning, and a heartbeat later he plunged his face between the cheeks of her bottom and began kissing her there. He rubbed his face back and forth with childish abandon which set her buttocks wobbling. Levinja began to pant. He really had no idea what he was doing, but the heat of his breath and his wet tongue were a delight when they touched the right places. She pushed her hips back, driving her sex against his lips, not wanting gently mouthed kisses but the rough licking she ached for.

"Don't lick me there!" she cried out and the imp, slipping his hands off her hips and back onto her buttocks, started to lick at the slit of her sex, from her engorged button to the pucker of her anus.

The imp explored her with his tongue and Levinja, playing the part of a ravished captive, swallowed back her cries of pleasure and gave a half-hearted kick of her bound legs. She hung her head, a thin thread of saliva dripping from her open lips as the imp took what he thought was his own selfish pleasure. The foolish creature!

Levinja felt the boy's face shaking and she realised he was pleasuring himself as he licked her. The thought of him spilling his beautiful semen uselessly across the floor rather than filling her womb or mouth sent a thrill of desperation through her.

"What are you doing?" she asked through gasps.

He pulled his lips from her, like a little boy caught doing something wrong, and stumbled back. "Nothing," he said.

She looked down between her legs from beneath and saw him there, crouched upside down, shyly shielding his rigid member from her gaze.

"You shouldn't keep such a beautiful weapon to yourself," murmured Levinja. "A female may be tamed many ways with it, you know."

He stared at her, wide-eyed.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" she said.

The imp frowned, displaying sharp teeth. "I am not!" His yellow eyes took on a hurt cast.

"Oh dear," sighed Levinja. So even imp-boys were sensitive! "One who was not a virgin would know what other pleasures can be taken from a woman."

"I am not a virgin!" he cried. "I am not!"

He strode around to her front . His loin cloth was peaked by his erection as he confronted her. Ah, so the boy had something to prove now!

"Is that so?" said Levinja. "Well, prove it to me, then. I'm guessing you don't know a woman can pleasure a man with her mouth, do you?"

The boy took a step back, blinking. He shook his head and burst out angrily. "Of course I do!" He pulled aside the material of his loincloth and poked his naked, angry member at her.

Ah! Close up Levinja was able to finally appreciate his gorgeous organ. No, he was not unendowed. The head was purple and angry and slick with his already profusely spilling juices.

Levinja smiled at him, attempting a sneer but not doing a very good job of it, she knew. "So you know, do you? Then show me!"

The imp, eyes flashing, took hold of her hair roughly with one hand and pushed his hips at her. His hardness pressed up against her closed lips, staining them with the heat of his excitement, and Levinja, tired of acting coy and aching to taste him, opened her mouth willingly.

He slid right into her mouth, the head skidding over her tongue and leaving a rich taste of hot salt. He was not gentle and Levinja was forced to part her lips further to accommodate the boy's rampant organ as he thrust it down her throat.

She breathed through her nose as the imp humped her face, leaving her lips bruised, her nostrils filled with the masculine scent which was thick in the tiny patch of pubic hair at the base of his deliciously smooth belly. Levinja wished she could reach up and stroke that delightful expanse of smooth skin, but her immobility added a sharp piquancy to her pleasure. The boy was dominating her willing body and a lewdness she had seldom enjoyed sent more of her juices spilling down her thighs.

The boy's thrusting grew more eager and Levinja knew he was growing close to reaching the limit of his endurance. Her thighs ached for her own release, but she knew better than to let the desires of her body overrule the reason of her brain. She licked at the base of the shaft slipping back and forth in her mouth, teasing the tender spot just beneath the head. No male, human or monster, could resist that – that spot was the centre of a male's pleasure. The imp groaned and gripping her head sharply he penetrated her mouth with a series of short, desperate thrusts. The soft sack bouncing against her chin grew tight and a sharp salty flavour filled her mouth. Levinja bobbed her head swiftly, not wanting to lose the chance of bringing this eager boy to fruition. She pulled back her head, letting her lips scour the base of the head of his rampant member and with a girlish cry he came. In his eagerness his penis slipped out of her mouth and sent the first blast of his semen streaking over her cheek, a scalding line of stickiness, but Levinja, with the experience of one who had brought many such eager young organs to completion, caught his bobbing and spurting member between her lips and directed the rest of his flood into her mouth.

She swallowed as the imp boy, his melodramatic gasps and pants like those of one dying, slumped against her, his hands no longer cruelly holding her fast but stroking her back. He had been overeager rather than cruel, perhaps, but Levinja's heart smarted at the boy's arrogance. Still, she continued to play the part of the submissive captive, gasping out her breath against the smooth thigh pressing her face.

The imp, languid with his ebbing pleasure, did not notice when she quickly grasped the hilt of the dagger at his side between her teeth. A swift cut with a jerk of her head and the root around her right wrist fell away. The dagger quickly found its way into her palm and she silently shore away the roots around her remaining hand.

Levinja fell to the floor, shielding her fall with her free hand as the startled boy, no longer held up against her body, fell back onto the ground. A singles slash of the dagger saw to the tendrils still around her ankles and she rolled, her muscles, sore after so many hours of hanging spread-eagled, burning with the effort. Her blood burned, too, with an aching need that the boy's naïve kisses and licking and the lingering taste of his rich essence on her lips and tongue had left. She kicked off her sodden underwear and with a grunt threw her hips over the boy lying dazed on the ground. Squeezing his slender legs together between her thighs, she pinned his arms at the elbow with her free hand and the wrist of the hand in which she still held his dagger.

The boy cried out in alarm, but Levinja pushed her entire weight down on him. In his languor he could do little but struggle ineffectually.

The boy's skin was warm to the touch, almost feverish, and gorgeously smooth, without a single hair. Levinja wondered whether the heat of his body was from the exertion of his molesting of her, or whether all imps, being creatures of the fiery element, felt so warm.

Levinja burned, too. The sweat on her brow dripped onto his face and neck as she grinned down at him. No more need now to play that silly game of demure captive! No, now she would play the role of ravisher.

She leaned back and with a feverish eagerness pulled her tunic up and over her head and tossed it aside. The boy gaped at her full nakedness, his yellow eyes wide. He looked even younger now, trapped beneath her towering nude body.

"Let me go!" he cried, and with it he burst out with renewed struggles.

Levinja pushed down hard, a little too hard perhaps – and squeezed with her knees until he grimaced at the pain. She relented, but fixed his eyes with her own and licked her lips.

"There's no need to struggle," she murmured. "Like I said before, I will not hurt you." Her eyes slid onto the knife in her hand and the boy's followed them. "But you must do everything I say and not try to escape."

She met his eyes again and narrowed her own. Yes, she was the scary knight, now, one who would brook no disobedience. It was the same look she had turned on her husband whenever he had done something wrong, on her sons whenever they had broken some rule, or on some acolyte knight who was displaying laziness or incompetence.

It certainly left an impression on the boy who gaped up at her in sudden fear. Levinja felt a little sting of guilt, but only for a moment. The boy had taken liberties with her while she had been incapacitated, and even if she had enjoyed them, they were certainly deserving of punishment.

She pressed her body down on his torso and reached across and grabbed a length of the flexible root she had cut off when she had released herself. With the magic exhausted, the tendrils lay there motionless, no more dangerous than any normal tree roots. But they would come in useful.

She pulled back a little and the boy moved, but her eyes warned him not to try anything. She put the dagger aside and quickly bound his wrists together. With her weight on his lower body, the boy knew better than to test her. All he could have done was slap or punch at her, but Levinja's act had done its work. He believed everything she had said and feared the blade.

She knotted the smooth root quickly, but loosely. He was not a real captive of war, but if she was to have her fun she would need ensure he could not escape. After raising herself back onto her haunches, she retrieved the knife, grabbed another length of root, cut it back and slid it around the boy's knees. She bound these together, too, but as she did she could not resist stroking those supple thighs for a delicious moment.

She muttered deep in her throat, a delighted purr.

"Yes," she murmured. "For such a naughty boy you are certainly comely."

She finished knotting the root and finally eased herself back so that her weight was no longer on him. She'd expected him to try something, to roll away or squirm himself out first chance he got, but he just lay there, staring up at her, testing the bonds which held him fast.

Levinja looked down at him and smirked. "A knight is an expert at many things, and binding captives is one of them." She leaned down and brought her face close to his. Ah, yes she could taste his breath, now. She let her lips brush across his in an almost-kiss and felt a rush of heat between her thighs. "But it's not the only thing I am an expert in."

The boy had ceased struggling, now. Perhaps he knew what she had in store for him – or perhaps, like she had done earlier, he was conserving his energy until a chance to escape presented itself. He watched her as her hands fell to his chest and stroked it. Ah, not a single hair! In fact, he was totally hairless except for the now-tousled hair on the top of his head. Levinja, biting her bottom lip, let her hands wander until his nipples were pressing into her palms. The boy gasped and she squeezed his chest, making him gasp again.

Ah, she could wait no longer! Her mouth watered. But she could not do what she was going to do and not know...

"Your name?" Levinja asked as her hands continued their exploration, taking in every delightfully smooth curve of his shoulders and arms.

The boy was taken aback by her question. "J– jameth," he stuttered.

"Jajameth?" Levinja teased, her eyes sparkling, her hands still wandering over his darkly-hued flesh.

"N-no," said the boy. "It's just Jameth-ah!" Levinja's hands had fallen to his flanks and her fingers now danced along his sides. A desperate laugh burst from him, but he bit it back and tried to squirm away from her.

"Ah," she said. "So it's Jametha, then." She tickled him once more and again that adorable laugh burst from him. "A pretty name, fitting for such a girlish boy." She smiled. "Although not all of you is girlish."

Her hands slid down onto his loin-cloth. She'd noticed that it had begun to peak and she very much wanted to sample again that beautiful length, but on her own terms this time.

She tickled him once more and left him to squirm as she sat back on her haunches, still straddling him. Jameth, his chest heaving as the last of the ticklishness passed, looked up. His eyes fell straight on her breasts.

Levinja, smirking, arched her back wantonly so that they grew even more pronounced. She met his gaze and hefted a breast in each hand. Her nipples were as hard as his were now, but far larger, the areolae like dark disks.

"I wonder if your matriarchs have breasts such as these," murmured Levinja. "Are these the first human breasts you've seen?"

Jameth swallowed and nodded.

"Perhaps the first breasts you've ever seen," she added with a wink and she knew her guess was true when Jameth blushed and averted his gaze.

Ah, his new-found submissiveness was kindling a blaze in her blood!

She was behaving too kindly, she decided. It was hard for her to maintain the mask of haughty ravisher, but she had to try. She let her lips fall into a smirk, her eyes drinking in every part of the boyish captive beneath her – his tousled hair with the two tiny little horns, his small wings splayed out against the rock of the corridor floor. She could feel his pointed tail, curving up between his legs, shifting the air behind her with its nervous flicking.

Levinja's grin deepened. "Nervous? You should be, little one. You were very, very disrespectful to me before, and a slight on the honour of a knight is not easily forgiven." She slowly leaned down, letting the full size and voluptuousness of her body intimidate him until her face was within kissing distance of his. "I'm going to take my full satisfaction from your body as you did from mine."

Jameth's mouth opened in shock and the rising tension in Levinja melted in a liquid rush between her thighs. Ah! Playing the ravisher would make her come without even touching the boy!

She knew then she could no longer dally. She grabbed his bound hands and pushed them up and back, leaving his chest wide-open to her sudden and frenzied attack. Her lips surrounded one nipple straight away and she scoured the rigid point with lashes of her tongue. Jameth cried out and began to struggle again, but Levinja would have none of it. It was all an act, anyway, this wiggling about. It was more pleasure than distress, the melodramatic resistance of a maiden on her wedding-night, intended to draw more passion from her eager young groom. Well, Levinja was his groom, today, and she would not stop until she had consummated her desire.

She left his nipple slick and red as her hungry mouth found the other and dealt it the same lashing. His chest was so smooth, still retaining the softness of puppy-fat, and she was able to suck his flesh into her mouth as though he had the tiny breasts of a young girl.

The breast with its nipple popped from her mouth, an angry red welt left from her over-eager lips. Levinja admired her handiwork for a single heartbeat, then she fell upon his smooth, flat tummy, drawing her tongue along it, the edges of her teeth scoring his skin as she left a wet trail of her saliva across the heaving dip of his diaphragm. Ah, he enjoyed this! He had begun to pant, his squirming coming now from below his waist. Her breasts, hanging free, encountered a rock-hard rigidity she could not see.

She abandoned his hands and blindly fished his beautiful length from under the material of his loin cloth. She was teasing herself, she knew, as much as she was teasing this gasping and panting boy, but she could not stop herself. Her fingertips fluttered along his hardness, her thumb finding the tender underside of the head and stroking it. Jameth gave a little cry and she felt a hot stickiness. Oh no, he was coming!

But no – it was just the early flood of fluid that so often happened. As she stroked the stickiness along his shaft, it lost none of its potent hardness. And all the while she kept up her kissing and licking attack on his delicious body. Every inch of his tummy and lower abdomen fell to her wet tongue, and she dallied especially at his belly-button, dipping her tongue into it.

His erection flooded again, leaving a sticky spot on her middle and Levinja knew she could no longer delight in this game, or else the boy would soon splash the rest of his hot seed across her body.

No, she would not permit such a waste! She tore her lips from his skin and pulled back, towering over the boy. Her own chest heaving, her face flushed from her need, she manoeuvred herself forward with an awkward shift of her hips, making sure he was still captured between her knees. With her experienced hand guiding his rampant member she wiggled forward and felt the slimy head press against her button. Gods, she was sopping! Her juices were literally dripping from her, coating the boy's hardness.

Jameth, wide-eyed, cried out, but she didn't hear him. Her entire being was focussed on the excruciating pleasure streaming up through her body as the head of the boy's erection pierced her swollen lips and speared straight up into her.

Levinja cried out – no, it was more a scream than a cry – and she rolled herself forward until the boy was in her up to the hilt, her sodden and sticky pubic-hair flush with his smooth abdomen. Levinja bit her lip, trying hard to keep her mind together as it reeled with intense waves of pleasure, and somehow her hands found the stone floor on either side of the boy's bound body. She pressed her palms downwards and pushed herself up.