The Sultry Sorceress Ch. 06

When the spit-swapping finally ended it was Jessalee who pulled away, smiling dominantly and blushing slightly, a long strand of saliva connecting her chin to Penelope's. The poor little priestess was gasping and heaving as if she had just run up a steep hill. Her nipples were so erect that they looked ready to cut through the cloth of her skimpy top, and her little skirt had been pushed up so far that everyone could so her inner-thigh glisten with the moisture of her wet pussy.

"Sweetie," Jessalee said, licking her lips. "Why don't you go wait for Paris in the road? I have something to say to my son in private."

Penelope blinked and moaned as if waking up from a pleasant dream, and then nodded girlishly before stumbling out the gate, but not before Jessalee gave the girl's exposed butt a playful slap.

Once Penelope was out of earshot Jessalee pinched her son's cheek. "You're welcome."

"Y-y-you're welcome?" Paris stuttered. "You're welcome for what? Molesting the love of my life?"

Jessalee snorted. "No. For getting the ripe little slut all hot and bothered for you. Shit, son. Her pussy was practically dripping. She needs a fuck and she needs it HARD, and I've given you the perfect opportunity to get to that pussy while it's still tight."

"What do you mean 'still tight'?"

His mother groaned and rolled her eyes. "I mean a doe like that doesn't get to prance in the forest for very long before she gets her little ass speared through by a hunter, and to be completely honest, you do not have the biggest spear in the forest."

Paris tried to protest, but all that came out of his throat was a pathetic whimper.

"You don't honestly think a stud like Hector is going to let a hot piece of ass strut around forever do you? No. He is going to nail that pussy to the wall and use it whenever he wants like a dirty oven-mitt. You better get to that pussy first, otherwise it's going to be gone forever."

Paris was blushing so hotly that he started to sweat, and his heartbeat was like a drum ready to explode. He was so flustered and angry that he could barely speak, but then he nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, his mother was right.

"Good boy," Jessalee said, cupping her son's tiny genitals in her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now go have fun at the bullfight and make your mommy proud."

#####

The coliseum was the largest structure in the village of Lightwatch, and it was also the oldest. Built long before the town even existed, no one was quite sure who built it or what its original purpose was, only that beneath its surface there were hundreds of miles worth of unexplored tunnels and catacombs. Occasionally a brave archeologist or historian would explore the endless depths, and sometimes make an interesting discovery, such as art depicting a gorgon wearing a crown, but a few never returned at all. In any case, since the people of Lightwatch spent much more time obsessing over athletes than academics, no one really gave a shit about the history of the place so long as they got a good show.

The circular stone seats were packed with hundreds of spectators, over half the town had come out for the show, and the rest of the audience were travelers recently arrived for the festival. The annual bullfight wasn't just a dramatic event; it also held religious importance as well. The black bull represented the darkness and evil of the universe, whereas the matador represented the Champion of Light, and his rapier represented a holy beam of the sun.

The audience cheered and gasped with the bull was released, a particularly intimidating specimen found in the mountains. The raging behemoth of muscle must have easily weighed three-thousand pounds or more, and as it ran through the dusty arena the audience could feel vibrations in their feet, as if the beast was a living earthquake. It had four terrible twisting horns that ended in points sharp enough to puncture steel armor, and its meaty jaws hung open to allow a thick stream of saliva ooze forth. The beast had been worked up into a frenzy, and now it was ready to kill.

Then came the matador, Hector. To represent the purity of his faith and to prove his courage, Hector entered the arena completely naked, the only things covering his gorgeous body was a small leather belt from which hung his silver rapier, and a thin sheen of oil that had been massaged into his sculpted form by a dozen naked priestesses. His black hair and dark eyes glistened wetly, as did his tremendous cock that swung between his legs.

The women in the audience lost themselves, many of them screaming hysterically for even a small glance from their sexual obsession, others shamelessly groping themselves between their legs and literally gushing with admiration.

The audience went silent when the bull noticed him. Its wild, directionless rage was suddenly focused, and it dug into the dusty ground as it eyed its prey. Hatred and anger were etched into the monster's thick face as it roared, letting loose a spray of hot saliva and a scream that echoed through the coliseum like a nightmare.

It charged, the audience gasped, and Hector deftly dodged.

The beast took a long time to turn, building up momentum with every thunderous step, and it charged him again, this time waving its head back and forth hoping to tear his body to shreds.

Hector let it get close. He let it get so close that when he finally did dodge it, he was able to press his hand against the bull's side, gliding over its bulging body as if he were just petting a kitten.

The bull seemed to realize it was being mocked, and it did not like that at all. It reared up on its hind legs and turned suddenly, swiping its horn around so quickly that most in the audience could barely predict it, but Hector had. He was suddenly on the beasts back, straddling its mountainous body with his powerful legs, and his hand flashed down to his sword-belt.

One brief flash of silver and it was over. Hector's rapier disappeared into the bull's body like a needle into a loaf of bread, and the heart was pierced perfectly.

The bull remained standing for a single moment, its tremendous tongue hanging free, its nostrils snorting a last breath of life, and then it collapsed to the ground, dead.

Hector stood atop the beast's corpse with his hands held high, his cock erect, and over a hundred women in the audience instantaneously achieved orgasm.

Penelope was one of them.

#####

"I'm . . . I'm alright," Penelope gasped, recovering slowly from an unwanted public orgasm.

Paris was helping her out of the arena and into the hallways of the coliseum, hoping to get away from the humid heat of the crowd and find a nice quiet spot for her to cool down.

Penelope was frankly a mess. Her tan skin was still flush and the tops of her breasts sparkled with little beads of sweat as she fanned herself off, breathing heavily. Her skirt was soaked to the point that it was completely transparent, and it clung to her skin so tightly that Paris could even make out the shape of her tight vulva and erect clit. He had thought for a moment that she had been pissing herself, especially from the way she suddenly crossed her legs and cried out, tears dripping from her scrunched up face. But she hadn't been peeing. She had been cumming, and she came hard even though she hadn't been touching herself like so many others had.

Paris was blushing from a deep sense of inadequacy, but he still tried to speak. "Penelope, I-"

"That was amazing wasn't it?" Penelope interrupted, excited and dizzy with euphoria. "I . . . I thought I was going to hate it. I usually hate watching an animal suffer, but . . . but . . . mmmm." Penelope moaned and swayed a little, grinding her body against the stone wall, probably imaging it as Hector's naked body.

Paris took a deep breath. "Penelope. I . . . I think you're really pretty and-"

"No wonder the bullfight is considered sacred. Didn't he look amazing? Like . . . like a GOD!"

"Penelope, I-"

"We have to go see him! I have to see him! We need tell him how amazing that was and-"

But this time Paris interrupted her. From somewhere deep within himself Paris managed enough bravery to grab Penelope's shoulder, spin her around, and push her hot body against the cold stone wall. Her brown eyes were wide with shock as her pressed his own body against her, weakly pinning her back as his lips pushed against hers in a clumsy, slightly uncomfortable kiss. His three-inch nub sunk into the flesh of her inner-thigh, and his pants were almost instantly damp with her lust from the bullfight.

Seconds passed. Seconds that felt like hours. Awkward hours. Penelope wasn't kissing him back. She wasn't even putting in a fraction of the enthusiasm she had given to his mother. He opened her eyes and her saw her looking down at him, her big brown irises were blinking in confusion.

Paris pulled back, suddenly aware of what a terrible mistake he had made.

"Penelope . . . I just-"

SLAP!!!

Paris fell to the ground with a fresh red outline on his cheek of Penelope's hand. He looked up to see her walking away very stiffly with a queasy, embarrassed expression on her face.

"Penelope! Wait!" Paris cried, getting up and running after her.

She stiffly turned and saw him coming, so she started to walk a little quicker, and then a little quicker still, and a little more, until finally she was running. Paris ran after her but even in high-heeled sandals Penelope outpaced him, galloping like a sexy gazelle through the crowd of drunk and horny revelers, brazenly shoving a few out of her way. They growled at her but did nothing, noticing that she was a priestess of Aurora. They did not pay the same mind to Paris, who was too weak to push his way through the crowd anyway.

"Penelope! Wait! Please, I'm sorry!"

Paris saw her slip into a room, cutting through a small flock of scantily clad village girls all dressed to impress. Paris ran in after her, bumping against several pairs of firm, perky tits as he did so, and stumbled into the warm, bright room without any idea of where he was.

"Penelope, I-"

And there he was. Hector. Standing in the middle of the room like a bronze stature of the perfect man, holding a cup of wine in one hand and a pomegranate in the other, the red juices of which were dripping down her chin and chiseled pectorals. He was somewhat clothed at least, wearing a thin sheet of white cloth around his torso, but the heavy impression of his penis was unmistakable, bulging like a sausage in a pillowcase. He looked rather surprised.

Penelope was there too, standing next to Paris and shivering with mortified embarrassment, blushing so red her cheeks looked like the pomegranate in Hector's hand, tears forming in her eyes.

"And now my friend Paris joins us," Hector exclaimed, happily surprised, but obviously confused. "Penelope, Paris. We haven't all been together is so long."

Penelope was on the verge of crying. "Hector . . . I'm sorry. I . . . I didn't know this was your room when I-"

"Nonsense!" Hector interrupted, wrapping his arm around Penelope's wait and pulling her smaller body in for a kiss, a kiss on the cheek Paris was happy to notice, although he was not happy to notice that way Penelope looked ready to cream herself again. "Why wouldn't I be happy to see my two greatest friends in the world? Penelope, you are like a little brother to me . . . I mean SISTER!"

Paris snorted, but Penelope was ready to cry again. Growing up she had been like a little brother to Hector, always collecting insects for him and wanting to wrestle. But now that little 'boy' was a big girl, and she wanted to wrestle in a much different way. Hector didn't even seem to notice what a sexy little nymph she had developed into, despite what Paris's mother had predicted.

"So . . . are we just going to keep getting interrupted like this all night?" a woman asked, a woman with a smooth, sensual voice that sent chills down Paris's spice and settle in his stomach like warm rum.

He turned to the darkest corner of the room and his jaw dropped. There was a woman lounging there, her long, slender but buxom body sprawled over a pile of rugs like a decadent tigress ready to pounce or be pounced. Although half in shadow, her green eyes sparkled like fiery emeralds, and the lips reflected the light like polished rubies. She wasn't naked, but she wasn't very clothed either. Her garments were like a skintight leotard that sunk into her curvaceous buttocks in a lacey thong and ran up her breasts and around her neck where the one-piece was held in place by a diamond-studded choker. Her limbs were long and graceful, her breast so large it was a wonder how they stayed so impossibly perky, and her auburn hair flowed down her arched back like liquid fire. She was without a single doubt the most beautiful, stunning, arousing, orgasmic woman Paris had ever, ever seen. This woman made the word 'sexy' seem dull. She made fire look damp, and solid gold look like rusty metal. Next to her even Penelope was just a scruffy tomboy again.

Paris was so enrapt by the sexual siren song her body-language screamed that he didn't even notice the other girl in the room, but there was a little blonde girl of about his age and height dressed in the modest style of a Hedonian mountaineer, and in her arms was a lanky black cat with red eyes.

"Oh . . . oh," Penelope said, her chest quivering with hurt at the sight of the goddess resting in Hector's room. "I see. You're . . . you're busy celebrating your victory no doubt. I'm sorry I interrupted you. Please . . . please," Penelope couldn't even finish, so she just turned to leave, choking back tears.

"Penelope wait," Hector said, his hand gripping Penelope's shoulder and stopping her in her tracks. "It's not what you think. This woman is not my lover. She is a . . . how-do-you-say . . . I person who is interested in old things. Old, dusty things. Things in the ground."

"An archeologist?" Paris suggested, although from the lewd look of the woman's carnal figure he doubted it.

"Yes!" Hector said.

"Whatever," the woman said, shrugging her elegant shoulders.

"Penelope, Paris," Hector began. "Maybe you would like to help me in an adventure. This woman, this archeologist, she says there is something very important and special hidden underneath the coliseum. Something very important to the history of the Festival of Aurora. I'm going to help her find it. Isn't that right Miss . . . I'm sorry . . . I don't know your name."

The woman glided to a standing position like a cobra, her slender body snapping into place with a level of grace that should have been impossible given the sheer weight of her gigantic breasts. She looked around the room and especially focused on Penelope. The auburn goddess saw the girl's tears and she smirked with arrogant self-satisfaction, drinking in the younger girl's jealousy like sweet nectar. This was clearly a woman who knew exactly how superior she was, and she clearly liked to others to know as well.

"Nadia," she said, the name rolling over her tongue slowly as if it were a sound she made while performing oral sex. "Nadia Méchant."

#####

The words of the paladins echoed in Paris's ears. "She's dangerous," they had said. He needed to go warn them. "The fate of your town depends on it." That's what they had said. At least that's what the nice one had said, Nicolette. The other one, Chancy, she was the one Paris didn't care much for. There was still a dull pain in his stomach from when she had kicked him. These dire warnings from the champions of Hedonia could not be banished from his mind, which made sitting at the table with the very woman he was warned about very awkward.

"Are you sure you have no idea?" Nadia said, leaning over on the table so far that her breasts threatened to explode out of the lacey cutout in her leotard. "None at all?"

"I am sorry milady, but no," Hector said, shrugging his broad shoulders and taking another large gulp of wine. Even the apple in his throat looked powerful as it flexed when he drank. "I am aware of the catacombs, of course, but I have never explored them deeply. And I have never heard of this treasure like you describe. A tomb? No."

"What about you gorgeous?" Nadia turned to Penelope, smiling with a subtle implication of attraction. "The village of Lightwatch was founded by the Temple of Aurora, and the tomb I seek is related to that particular goddess. I don't suspect the Temple teaches you little girls anything about history when you're not busy learning the erotic arts?"

Penelope frowned and folded her arms tightly, causing her cleavage to push up attractively, but she was as flat as a board compared to Nadia. "I don't think I would be allowed to tell you if I did, but no. This coliseum existed long before the Order of Aurora founded the Temple at Lightwatch. They came here because of the Holy Lights, which my order believes are sacred to Aurora. I didn't believe this old building had anything to do with our religion."

Nadia grumbled and held her perfect chin in the palm of her hand. The manicured nails on her other hand tapped against the surface of the table, stabbing at the wood with such vigor that she left little scratches. "Nothing. Not a clue. I've been researching this find for years and all I've managed to uncover is that the Holy Lights have something to do with. Damn."

Nadia was mostly talking to herself, but Penelope saw an opportunity to flirt with Hector and she took it. Her little foot came up and gently caressed his spectacular calf muscle, and she leaned over to try and distract his attention away from Nadia's much more enticing cleavage. "You know, if there is anything down there I bet Hector could find it. He really is quite brave . . . and smart . . . and handsome . . . and big. I think he's the most promising Champion our little village has had in years. Decades!"

"You're too kind, Penelope." Hector smiled and actually blushed a little. Perhaps he didn't know what to make of his 'little brother' rubbing against his leg, but his body did. A very sizeable bulge was starting to grow in his loincloth. Hector may not have realized what a horny little girl Penelope was, but his cock sure did.

"Mmmm . . . you don't say?" Nadia cooed. She was sitting the closest to the young stud, and she leaned in ever closer to admire him. Her mesmerizing chest-melons pushed against the oiled, hairless muscles of his pectorals, and she even traced her fingertips down the deep grooves of his abdominals. Then Nadia saw his crotch-hydra and her subtle smirk became a hungry smile. "Why yes . . . obviously a true champion. I bet I could find all sorts of uses for him. Maybe losing out on this treasure won't be a total wash after all."

"No!" Penelope yelled, standing up so fast her chair fell over. She darted around the table and wrapped her slender arms around the bronze biceps of her heart's (and pussy's) desire. "I mean . . . there's plenty of time for you to go get lost in the catacombs and scavenge through the dirt. Maybe you should go get started right now."

"I wouldn't mind doing so," Nadia hissed, "so long as this brave stud promised to protect me. I want him by my side at all times. His body never even an inch away from mine in those warm, dark, cramped little tunnels."

"Then I should go to!" Penelope insisted, snarling like a kitten at the tigress. "As a priestess of Holy Aurora I have a duty to oversee any excavations of her relics, and Hector should protect me, seeing as how you 'archeologists' are so common and replaceable."

Nadia's puffy lips were twisted in a sneer. She reached out and pinched one of Penelope's nipples, hooking her finger through the piercing. She twisted.

"Ouch!" Penelope whined.

"How long have you had these nipple piercings?" Nadia asked. "A week? You haven't been a priestess for very long. Why don't you go pray somewhere and leave the grownup work to the grownups."