The Rogue's Harem Book 1: Rogue's Sultry Women - Cover

The Rogue's Harem Book 1: Rogue's Sultry Women

Copyright© 2017 by mypenname3000

Chapter 3: Zanyia

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 3: Zanyia - 800 years before the Knight and the Acolyte, a roguish adventure, his sexy priestess sister, a catgirl sex slave, a wicked princess, a playful faerie, and a hermaphroditic warrior are embroiled in the schemes of a despot and a cruel naga!

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Magic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Hermaphrodite   Fiction   High Fantasy   Cheating   Cuckold   Slut Wife   Incest   Brother   Sister   Father   Daughter   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Interracial   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Squirting   Tit-Fucking   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Public Sex   Small Breasts   Royalty   Violence  

Note: Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!

I purred louder as I crawled out of the collapsed tent, my nose twitching. Blood scented the air. I breathed it in, savoring it. Therek’s blood. I never thought I’d smell so much of it. My throat rumbled with my joy. My tail swished back and forth, my whiskers trembling on my cheeks.

I burst out into the night, crouching low, my back arching. My ears twitched, hearing the murmurs from the slave cart and the roar of fire. Kovet lay dead by the fire, covered in blood, the other guards missing.

“You killed them all,” I said in awe.

“Aye,” the Zeutchian thief said, crawling out of the wreckage after me. He was hard to see, shadow magic blending him into the background, making him a blurry outline that faded when he stopped moving. I only knew he was Zeutchian by his accent. He lacked the harshness of the speech of Shizhuthian humans like Therek.

And he was dead! I purred in utter delight.

The Zeutchian then did something shocked me. He seized my collar and fumbled at the bolt that held it shut. He pried it off. I gaped as it came free and fell to the ground, lying at his feet. I’d been born a slave, collared as a kitten suckling at my mother’s teat by her owner, then raised to be a pleasure slave for those who pleased my naga mistress.

Why would he free me? Surly his naga mistress would reward him with me.

Tears burned in my eyes. I stared up at him, not sure what to say.

He crouched down to look directly at me and wiped at my tears with hazy fingers. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re free.”

“Free?” The word croaked out of me, scaring me. Free ... Me?

He nodded his head and then kissed me on the forehead.

“I see you’ve gravitated to the naked girl, brother mine,” a woman said.

My head whipped around. A Zeutchian beauty stepped up to the slave cart. She wore pink robes that left her arms bare and her cleavage exposed. Twin braids of golden hair fell down her back. A tattoo of a vine, covered in pink flowers, wrapped around her right arm. More vines adorned her left breast, peeking out of her robe.

“Well, she is a cutie,” the man who freed me said as he stood. He wiped at his cheeks and suddenly he stood solid and real, dressed in black leather pants and a jerkin, daggers hanging from a bandoleer slung across his chest, others sheathed at his side. He had a short sword on his right hip, a hand crossbow on the left. “What’s your name, little catgirl?”

“Zanyia, Master,” I answered, staring up at his handsome face, his short, blond hair reflecting firelight. He had blue eyes, so deep I could swim in them.

“I’m not your master, Zanyia,” he said, holding out a hand to me. “You don’t have to crouch like that.”

“I like crouching,” I said, trembling, but not from being naked. Though I had as much hair adorning my body as a human female, I could tolerate colder temperatures without clothing. No, I trembled in awe. Who was this man? Why didn’t he claim me? He killed my master. He freed me from Therek’s brutality.

I purred louder and then rubbed my cheek against his pants, feeling the soft caress, smelling his scent over leather and blood. My tail twitched as I showed him my submission. I stared up at him, hugging his leg.

“Is she going to hump you here?” the girl asked. “At least help me free the slaves before you indulge your cock, brother mine.”

“Sorry, sister dear,” he said. Then he winked at me. “That’s Kora. My sister doesn’t approve of my pleasures.” He scratched at my head between my ears.

“You should always enjoy yourself, Master,” I said, a tingle racing down to my pussy. I rubbed my cheek harder against his thigh.

“See, sister dear, Zanyia approves.”

“Of you fucking every doxy who falls on your cock?” Kora asked, shaking her head.

I stared at her, seeing the look in her eyes, the catch in her voice. It was faint, imperceptible, but I recognized what strained her words. Jealousy. Did she want her brother scratching her head? Did she ache to rub her cheek on his thigh and her hot pussy on his boot?

Ooh, his boot felt wonderful on my hot pussy, my clit throbbing as I ground on him. My tail swished faster as the pleasure rushed through my body. This Sven needed to understand. He owned me now. I had no idea what to do with freedom. Where would I go? Back across the mountains to Zizthithana’s court?

I’d rather die than fall into the hands of any naga, let alone her.

“I have something for you,” Sven said, pulling out the amulet my former owner had dug up outside the village where he found the slaves. “It’ll look beautiful on you, sister dear.”

He tossed it to Kora. Her cheeks went scarlet. Happiness tinged her scent, her eyes growing liquid. She looked at her brother with such longing, such heartache. I glanced from my new owner to his sister, my eyes widening.

Really? Both of them? And they didn’t realize what the other felt?

And then I laughed. Zizthithana would be so wroth when she learned Warleader Therek was dead, his slaves freed, and the gift he was so eager to present to her around the neck of another. I rubbed my pussy harder on Sven’s boot, purring my joy.


Kora Falk

I frowned at the lamia humping my brother’s boot and giggling as she stared at me fingering the necklace. It swung heavily from my neck, the large gem resting between my round breasts. My cheeks burning in embarrassment, I turned away from the catgirl. I would treasure this gift.

Even if he should have given it to Ava. Fool brother. I truly believed he loved the princess, even if he constantly cheated on her, philandering with every tavern doxy and slattern wench he could. I could remember the joy in his eyes the first time he spoke about Ava.

“She’s a flower, sisters dear,” he’d said, Katriana and I sitting on the foot of his bed, both in our dressing gowns. “Blossoming like a rose made of pure ruby, every petal sculpted to perfection. Not unlike two other flowers I know.”

His eyes had fallen on me, awakened desires in my breast I knew were wrong. Desires I was learning to channel at the Radiant Halls of Az, the largest temple to Rithi in the world. I was only a sunbeam then, having only a week earlier gained my first tattoo over my left breast and completing my initiation as a glimmer. It would be another two years before I became a radiant, a full priestess.

And it wasn’t long after that ... Fire raged in my memory.

But that night, I’d loved my brother even as he spoke of another woman who’d claimed his heart. I banished the past. I should insist he give this to Ava when we next saw her. But ... He gave it to me.

I scowled at the lamia, her golden eyes staring at me, a naughty smile on her face as she kept humping my brother’s boot with her pussy. “Get over here and help me free the prisoners, Sven!”

He jumped. I only used his name when angry. And I shouldn’t. It wasn’t him I was angry at. I shouldn’t be jealous because he had a new toy to play with. I could never be his lover, even if he looked at me like a woman and not his sister.

Sven hurried over, the catgirl padding after him on all fours, her tail wiggling, thrusting from her tailbone above her swaying ass. I caught a glimpse of her pussy adorned by tawny fur, wet with her excitement.

I understood. In his leathers, standing tall, Sven cut a dashing figure. That roguish smile, his blond spilling about his chiseled face, his blue eyes so deep you could drown in them. I had watched girl after girl succumb to his smile, to his touch, to his bold caresses.

The slaves pillaged the camp for supplies. They were all so grateful, women hugging me over and over while the men shook Sven’s hands or clapped him on the back. They devoured the slavers’ food before walking off down the path in the dark, leading the horses away, returning to their village.

“You should go with them,” I told Zanyia.

“Nope, I’m with my owner.” She rubbed herself against Sven again, humping on his boot, smearing it with her juices.

“I’m not your owner,” Sven protested, though not that hard. “But I can be other things.”

“Yes, Master,” purred the catgirl, her ears twitching.

She followed us back to our camp where our horses and tent awaited. I had grown used to living rough. It was hard keeping my pink vestments clean, but Rithi’s magic helped preserve my beauty, including my clothing. Dawn pinked the horizon when I padded up to my mare, Rainbow, and kissed her black nose.

Then I turned around and blinked. My brother had a foolish grin on his face as the lamia unlaced his britches. My eyes widened as she drew out his hard cock. I had seen it before, fucking other girls. My pussy clenched at its girth thrusting towards Zanyia’s lips.

Purring, she lapped at his crown with her pink tongue. My brother groaned, his eyes widening, his smile growing increasing foolish as he stroked through her tawny hair. Her ears twitched as she licked again and again.

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