Chapter 14: Inspiration

Note: Thanks to B0b and WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Aingeal
I knelt in the court of the queen, hoping Sven could be submissive to the queen. My guards surrounded me, armed and armored in bronze, standing stoic as the passion of the court burned around me. I tried to control my panic. Sven could do this. He could submit to the queen and obey her lusts. He just had to drive her wild, make her show some mercy on me.

He could do it.

Kora’s dance with the aoi si came to end, her orgasm over. The fey of the court swarmed her. I could just make out Conleth and Turlough kneeling at her feet through the crowd. I grimaced. Those two were flighty, always glomming onto the new, the exciting. And a mortal who could dance and make love like Kora would enchant them for days.

Before something new and shiny caught their eye.

I suspected Kora wouldn’t be at all sucked in by their flattery. She had a suspicious mind, after all she didn’t trust me at first. And if Kora was seduced, Zanyia would still have her cunning. The lamia looked, and acted, simple, but she goaded me into promising to be Sven’s woman three times, binding me to him forever as his wife. Our kind had to obey our word given thrice, it chained us to our promises.

And besides Zanyia, Kora had the glowering Ealaín. The aoi si wouldn’t allow any harm to come to the human woman. She had an intimidating air around her, even naked and coming down from her orgasmic high.

I smiled for a moment and then armor clinked. The guards shifted around me. I sighed, my fear swelling through me again. For a moment, I had forgotten that I knelt chained, waiting for my death, counting on my husband to save my life by submitting to the queen.

“You can do this, Sven,” I whispered, glancing at the door through which he and the queen had vanished. “Just obey her. Give her what she wants.”

I took a deep breath, the fear washing through me in a wave that left me trembling. Clammy hands clenched about my heart. My back flexed, muscles wanting to flex the wings burned away by Duke Gallchobhar’s magic.

I didn’t want to die.

Ealaín

I arched my eyebrow watching the two male fey fawning before Kora.

My charge grinned at me, her face flushed from our sexual art, my cum running down her thigh. “See, Ealaín, I inspired them.”

My lip twitched with amusement, my body still buzzing from my orgasm. The faerie of Queen Sidhe’s court watched Kora’s art with rapt attention. Lust swelled through the room, the female faeries thighs glistening, the males cocks throbbing and dripping with precum. Some were masturbating themselves or giving another a helping hand. It was good that Kora created art again, that she danced, fucked, and painted.

She had neglected it too much even with the danger around her. My mother, Rithi, had sent me to be her radiant as much to protect Kora as to ensure that she kept up her art, that she brought such beauty into the world, inspiring more than just her brother and his women.

And part of that protection meant allowing Kora to keep producing her art. And she could hardly do that with these two fawning over her feet. So I glowered over them. The two males, licking Kora’s feet, felt me looming.

They looked up at me, my girl-dick thrusting from the folds of my pussy, glistening with Kora’s juices. I folded my midnight-black arms beneath my breasts, arching an eyebrow at them. The two glanced at each other and then rose.

“Whatever you need, Lady Kora,” Conleth said, giving my charge a hungry grin, “you but have to ask.”

“As we said, we are your most humble of servants,” the other said, giving her a sweeping bow.

Kora just smiled at them, her hips already moving to another dance. I could detect a hint of nervousness that melted out of her as she surrendered to the music. She worried for Aingeal’s safety, but her art beckoned.

And she lost herself to it.

Good. Her art should be her priority, the most important thing to her. She devoted herself to Rithi, to creating beauty. Nothing should distract her from the inspiration she created with her body. The watching faeries wouldn’t forget her performance. It would stir them to create something of beauty, immortalizing her dance in painting and sculptures, enriching the world.