The Rakshasa's Heart - Cover

The Rakshasa's Heart

Copyright© 2017 by mypenname3000

Chapter 2: Knife Play

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2: Knife Play - Princess Malakisha, a member of the violet rakshasa ruling family of Naith, plots with her lover and her slave-warriors to gain the thro

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Magic   NonConsensual   Slavery   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   High Fantasy   BDSM   DomSub   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Light Bond   Rough   Spanking   Interracial   Black Male   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Violence  

Note: Thanks to B0b for beta reading this!

Princess Malakisha – Ankush, The Queendom of Naith

The chain hurtled at me, a gray-black blur. My rakshasa’s instincts snarled through me. My body sprang to the right. I hit the rough stone bricks of my dungeon’s floor, rolled hard. Metal struck rock with a mighty clang behind me.

He could cave my skull in with his strength.

“My heart!” Lucy screamed in terror as I came up in a crouch, the fur bristling across my face and head, my whiskers twitching as I faced the enraged Bakiir.

Such strength. He pulled free the bolts from the masonry. What a daughter he would breed in me. Despite the danger, or maybe because of it, my pussy was so wet as I stared at the enraged gladiator. That mighty pillar of ebony flesh before me.

If I could tame him...

“Mistress!” Issanik growled. My brawny Naithian slave surged forward to grapple Bakiir.

The chain cracked to the right. It slammed into Issanik’s side. The man grunted. He stumbled and crashed into a shelf holding my flails. Wood groaned as he seized it to hold his balance. But the shelf toppled. A rain of whips and scourges fell with Issanik as he hit the ground moments before the shelf slammed down on top of him.

Lucy stood frozen before Bakiir, her body trembling. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared up at the gladiator. Then they flashed to me, soft brown and full of desperate hope. She needed me to save her from the brute.

“You have to—” she began screaming but Bakiir kicked her. Not hard, but enough to throw her back and send her tumbling into the collapsed shelf. She coughed, clutching her stomach, pain crossing her face.

I snarled in anger.

Thushin surged in as Bakiir reached up to his left hand, still manacled to the ceiling, and pulled out the bolt free holding the band closed. The restraint popped open, freeing him. He flicked the chain in the same motion, striking Thushin’s upraised arms.

Metal cracked on bone. Thushin grunted, but kept charging in, eager to protect me. He slammed into Bakiir’s body, the men grappling, stumbling back. Lucy coughed again, her face twisted with fear. She glanced at me, shaking her head.

“It’ll be fine, my heart,” I told her, rising.

My hands flexed as Thushin grunted, thrown to the ground by Bakiir. The magnificent Halanian raised the chain to beat him. He cracked it down, bringing a grunt from Thushin. Bone snapped, my slave’s arm breaking as Bakiir raised the chain again.

He better not kill him.

I strode from the room, my breasts jiggling. Fire pumped through my veins and juices ran down my thighs. This was so exhilarating. What a man Bakiir was. I marched out of my dungeon and into my kennels, striding past the cages where others of my slaves peered out, the men grasping the bars.

“Set us free, Mistress,” they growled, eager to fight for me. “We’ll protect you.”

Their kennel whores, the female slaves I bought to please them, cowered in the back, scared, shaking. I ignored them all. I reached my armory and wrenched it open, revealing the racks of swords and axes and maces and daggers, stacks of armor of all shapes, the gear to outfit my slaves. I grabbed a long-bladed dagger. It was triangular, starting as wide as three of my fingers at the hilt and narrowing all the way to a needle-like point. Valyan steel, finest quality, or so the merchant who sold it to me boasted.

I wheeled around and strode back to the dungeon, licking my furry chops.

It was chaos when I returned. Lucy screamed in the corner, cowering as Bakiir whipped his chain around, slamming it into Issanik and Thushin. My brawny slaves still fought, Thushin cradling his broken arm. They struggled to close in and seize him. Then Thushin leaped on Bakiir’s back, his good arm going around the ebony-skinned man’s throat, squeezing hard. I gripped the dagger, poised, watching the men fight. Issanik rushed in from the front, the muscles rippling in his flanks.

The chain cracked him across the face. He snapped back and hit the ground insensate, blood spurting from his nose. I breathed it in, the crimson scent electrifying my body. I tasted the coppery delight in the air upon my tongue, shuddered.

With a grunt, Bakiir threw himself forward and heaved against Thushin’s arm. My Naithan slave flew over Bakiir’s shoulder and crashed down on Issanik, screaming in pain as he landed on his broken arm. Bakiir stumbled, ending up on his hands and knees.

I moved.

Before he could rise, I crossed the distance, springing with the speed of a rakshasa. We were predators, unlike humans. We didn’t have to be trained to be killers, we simply were. A single leap carried me behind him. I landed, the dagger moving fast as he twisted, throwing a look over his shoulder.

And then he froze as he felt the sharp edge pressing in his throat. Blood flowed. His smelled delicious.

“Do you feel death, warrior?” I asked, my left hand running across his bald head, loving how smooth it was, how shiny in the torch light. “Can you feel it quivering against your throat?”

His face hardened.

“Yes, you can,” I purred. “You’ve faced her a thousand times, haven’t you? That bitch wanting to steal away your life. You’ve fought so hard, and then she comes at you from behind.” I pressed the knife harder against his flesh. I could feel his pulse throbbing up the blade and into my hand, the frantic beat of his life. “So you have a choice. Let her kill you, or surrender to me.”

His jaw set.

I moved around him, keeping the dagger placed against his throat. I let it slide, cutting into flesh above his trachea. The outer layer of his skin parted, blood flowing. I let him feel the promise of death as I moved before him. He was ready to die. He was prepared for it.

I knelt, facing him eye to eye. Crimson spilled over the blade, more ran dark down his chest. His arm cocked, ready to strike. I could see the calculation. Could he swing his chain fast enough to kill me before I killed him.

He tensed.

My hand shot out and grasped his cock.

He had softened during the fight, but now he felt that feminine touch, and hardened. I purred, the pleasure rumbling up through my throat as I stroked him, feeling his life pulse in another way as he swelled. I rubbed the spongy tip, his dick throbbing.

“You can die,” I growled, pressing the dagger just a tiny bit harder, forcing him to move his head back. “Or you can surrender to the pleasure I can provide.”

He didn’t say a word. Stoic pride faced me. That monolithic resistance that had kept him fighting even when his body was scourged, even as blood ran down his body from the kiss of my whip. And yet his cock was sending him that pleasure, that delight, that aching need to erupt.

A need he’d only get satiated if he surrendered.

All week he had fought against it. I hadn’t allowed him to cum. I had Lucy bring him to the brink over and over while he felt pain. I kept him bound other times, unable to touch himself while listening to my other slaves rut around him with their kennel whores.

His will was iron. But even iron bent. Especially when heated.

“Just surrender into ecstasy and let death spare you another day,” I purred, pushing back with the knife.

He retreated from its edge. Death was no longer something he was prepared for. Not with his cock throbbing in my hand. He stretched out onto his back as I kept pushing with the dagger, his legs sliding out beneath me. I straddled him, my pussy on fire.

I brought my cunt to his hard cock, rubbing my twat up and down his length. My clit throbbed against his hardness, my pussy lips begging to engulf every inch of his girth. He was so big, so thick. All my slaves were hung, but him...

He made them seem small.

I ran my left hand up his whipped chest, crossing the small wounds, the blood sticky as it dried. I felt his muscles quivering. I kept the knife pressed to his throat, sliding my pussy up and down his cock, staring into his eyes.

“Death or ecstasy?” I asked him, leaning over him, my breasts swaying. I ground my clit harder into his dick, the pleasure rippling through me, my purr rising in my throat. My whiskers twitched. I hungered to tear out his throat while fucking him to death.

But that would be such a waste.

“What will it be, Bakiir?” My clit reached the crown of his dick. I massaged the spongy head.

He let out a groan, his face twisting against the pleasure.

“Feel how wet I am. You can be in me. You can love your Mistress. I’ll even let your seed spill into me. You can be the father of my daughter. All you have to do is love me. Worship me. Then you’ll experienced rapture. You’ll be pampered. I’ll give you women. I’ll lift you up.

“Just worship me.”

I circled my hips, rubbing my clit across his cock’s crown, feeling it throb and twitch.

“Or you can die. I’ll slit your throat and eat your heart and that will be it. No more pleasure for you. No more chance to fight. No more proving your might.

“No more life.”

I leaned closer and licked his lips with my thick tongue, the pleasure rippling through me. My juices dripped hot from my cunt, making his dick more and more slippery as I ground on him. He groaned again.

“Choose. Ecstasy or death.”

He closed his eyes. “Ecstasy.”

I purred louder. “Then say it.”

“Mistress,” he said, his voice tight as it burst out of his throat. “You are my ... Mistress.”

“Mean it,” I groaned, my clit throbbing on his dick. I rubbed harder. “Prove you love me and worship me.”

“I’m your ... slave.” A shudder went through him. Something changed in his eyes. They widened for a moment, showing all of his whites. “I am your slave, Mistress. I submit to you. Surrender to your pleasure.”

I licked his mouth again, my tongue pushing past his lips into his mouth, tasting him as I purred louder. I shuddered, pressing my breasts to his whipped chest, his sticky blood coating them as I slid my hips higher, the tip of his cock nudging at my pussy lips.

Then I pressed backward.

He shuddered beneath me while I yowled into our licking kiss. My eyes widened, my tiger-ears twitching. His cock was so huge. My labia stretched and stretched and stretched to take him, to swallow his girth. I trembled atop him, shivering and rubbing my breasts into his torso. My nipples throbbed against his whipped flesh.

I took more and more of his girth. I kept the dagger pressed to his throat as my purrs grew louder, rumbling through my body. It was amazing. My pussy burst with pleasure as I sank all the way down his cock, impaled on my slave’s dick.

My dick.

I broke our kiss, staring into his eyes. “Do you feel the reward for your service?” I asked, my pussy clenching on his dick. “Do you understand what submission gives you?”

“Yes,” he groaned, face twisting with pleasure. I felt his heart thundering in his chest as I undulated my hips.

His hands grabbed my ass, squeezing. I rose, my brown breasts streaked with his blood. His chest was coated in it. I loved the thick, wet feel on my tits. My pussy shifted on his dick as I slid into position, arm outstretched, knife at his bloody throat.

And rode my slave.

I groaned and gasped. I didn’t fuck him hard or fast. I savored his surrender. Finally, he was mine. And I would enjoy every heartbeat of his girth buried in my pussy that I could. I slid up him, squeezing hard with my pussy, drinking in the friction. I groaned, fighting the burn in my thighs, the ache in my muscles demanding I just impale myself as I slid slowly back down.

He groaned, breathing heavily, his pulse thudding against the edge of the knife. His hands squeezed my ass then roamed my body. I savored his strong, calloused touch. His hands found my breasts, squeezing them as my hips moved, swirling and stirring his cock through me as I rode him.

“The queen’s sagging tits,” I groaned in pure delight. “Oh, gods, this cock, my heart. This cock is amazing.”

“Yes, my heart,” Lucy said, still in the corner, her eyes wide, stunned by the savagery that happened. She hugged herself, tears running down her eyes. “Amazing cock.”

Poor thing. She wasn’t a predator, but prey. I loved her anyways.

But now wasn’t the time to comfort my Lucy. Now was the time to enjoy my victory. I shuddered, working my pussy up and down his cock faster and faster. I loved this dick in me. The girth was so thick, stretching my snatch open so wide. My cunt clenched on it while my pleasure rose hot and fast. It wanted to burst out of me. To drown me in rapture.

My breasts jiggled in his strong hands. He squeezed them. His thumbs rubbed across my nipples, sending delight shooting down to my pussy. He played with my nipple ring, twisting my right nub, making me groan louder and louder.

I yowled and purred as I drank in the rapture. I slid up and down his cock, impaling my cunt over and over on his dick. He stabbed so deep into me. So wonderfully deep. My pussy ached every time I took him.

“Oh, yes, Bakiir,” I growled. “Oh, you are such a warrior. Such a brawny man. You are so impressive. Never have I seen a man as impressive as you.”

His hands tightened on my cheek. “Nor a woman,” he growled, “as strong.”

I licked my chops, my pussy clenching harder and harder. I rode him faster and faster. I plunged my pussy up and down his girth, my clit striking his pubic bone. Wild abandon filled me now, my orgasm building so fast, begging to explode through me.

So I didn’t restrain myself. My head arched back, my whiskers twitching as I rode him so fast and hard, my hips twisting and swiveling, enjoying every ounce of pleasure this cock had to offer. I pulled the knife from his throat, surrendering to the possibility he would kill me.

I had to know. Was he sincere in his submission?

“My Mistress,” he groaned, squeezing my tits so hard as his hips bucked up. He bounced me on his cock. “Seljan’s beard, you’re so tight.”

“So hot and wet,” I groaned. “I bet you just want to spill your seed in me.”

“Yes!” he growled.

“It’s a privilege I’ve granted to no other man. None have cum in my pussy. But you ... You have earned it. Take your reward.”

I slammed down his cock, my clit striking his pubic bone. Sparks flared through me, landing on the tinder of my orgasm.

Fires flared to life. They burned hot through me. I gasped, the rapturous smoke rising to my mind, smothering me in ecstasy. My pussy went wild about his dick, spasming hard as I bucked and snarled out my euphoria.

He grunted, hips driving upward, our flesh smacking together again, more sparks exploding from my clit. His hands squeezed my tits so hard. Pain flared from them, spicing the rapture surging through my body.

“My Mistress!” he growled and came.

A man’s cum flooded my pussy for the first time. I had felt it in my ass and mouth, but never my pussy. None of my slaves had earned the right to breed me. But Bakiir ... My daughter would be so powerful. She would be devious, cunning. It would take all my strength and wits not to be murdered by her.

What a queen she would make.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I howled. “By the gods, breed your Mistress!”

My pussy writhed, milking his spurting cock. I drank in the hot seed, my orgasm growing so hot. Ecstasy whipped through me. I heaved atop him, my snarls echoing through the dungeon. I drank in the rapture.

And loved it.

“My Mistress,” he groaned as the final blast of his seed shot into me.

“My slave,” I groaned, bringing the dagger to my mouth. I licked at the cold metal, tasting the crimson of his blood. A final shudder ran through my body. “Oh, yes, you are mine.”

I could see it in his eyes. He had surrendered. He had realized my strength and submitted. I owned him. It was so intoxicating. I groaned as I rose off his dick. His hot cum dribbled down my thighs as I stood over him.

“Help them to their kennels,” I told Bakiir. “Then step into yours. The cell doors are enchanted. They will lock. Prove you are loyal. And you shall be rewarded.”

“Mistress,” he groaned, rising, his chest heaving as he stood. He went to the two men, Thushin cradling his broken arm, Issanik unconscious, maybe dead.

I moved to Lucy. I knelt down beside her, setting the dagger on the stone. My back was to Bakiir. A wild thrill shot through me. What if it was an act? He could try to kill me right now. We would have to struggle again.

Men grunted in pain. “Got to teach me that trick you used throwing me over your shoulder,” Thushin groaned. “Useful.”

Bakiir grunted.

“It’s okay, my heart,” I told Lucy, caressing her tear stained cheek. “I’m alive. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I thought he would kill you,” Lucy said, staring at me with her raw, brown eyes. “I...”

“But he didn’t.” I nuzzled against her cheek, lapping up her salty tears then rubbing my fur into the silk of her skin. “Risks have to be taken to seize great rewards. You cannot be afraid. You have to seize your opportunity and act.”

Lucy’s forehead furrowed. Her eyes widened. She shivered and then she nodded, comprehension dawning. “I ... understand ... my heart.”

“Good,” I purred, nuzzling her again. “Mmm, did he hurt you when he kicked you?”

“Not badly.” She rubbed her belly, her small breasts jiggling.

I purred out my pleasure and rose, Bakiir’s cum dripping down my thighs. I grabbed my heart’s brown hair, pulling her face to my pussy. “It was so hot finally enjoying him. You have to taste him mixed with me.”

Lucy didn’t fight. She loved me too much to ever resist me. Her face nuzzled into my pussy. Her brown eyes stared up at me. I shivered at the passion in them as her tongue licked through my cum-filled folds, gathering Bakiir’s jizz out of me.

It was so exciting to share this with her, the passion of a man finally worthy to breed me. My heart raced as I undulated my hips, grinding my pussy on her hot lips. Her tongue licked again, exploring into my folds, searching out for all Bakiir’s jizz in me and eating it.

“How does he taste?” I asked, my voice so throaty.

Her nose nuzzled my clit as she moaned, “Wonderful. So salty but mixed with your spice. Mmm, and you know I love your spice, my heart.”

It was wonderful to hear the throaty passion return, to feel the tension melt out of her a she licked again. “Yes, I do know how much you love it.”

Her tongue licked again, flicking out and sliding through my pussy. She brushed my clit, making me tremble. A new pleasure built in me, something gentler than the raging passion Bakiir’s cock had churned through my cunt.

This was loving. Caring. This was the depths of emotion my Lucy gave me. She didn’t just worship my pussy, she loved it. Loved me. It sent such a warm tingle racing through my body, rising from my pussy, making my toes curl, my nipples ache, and my heart beat.

“Oh, gods, yes, love me, Lucy,” I purred, her tongue probing deep into my pussy. “Always love me.”

“Always,” she murmured, her tongue darting back into my depths.

She couldn’t reach anywhere near as deep, but she still could stir up my pussy. She could still make me shiver and groan, my flesh clenching on her tongue as the pressure swelled and swelled. Her gentle organ lapped through my depths, her lips nuzzling into my labia.

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