Free Wildlings Enraptured: The Novella: (Fantasy Dark Erotica, Paranormal Sex Stories, Fairy Sex) by Jill Soffalot

Bower, grinding to a halt as Tricia caught Herrik by the end of his beard and pulled him toward her. She whipped around and faced Andrax with an emerald rapier at Herrik’s neck. The woman from the trees sent Andrax spinning in the air with a tremendous backhand. She placed a hand to her breast and wet her finger with the white moonblood leaking from her nipple, trying to force the gooey digit into Andrax’s mouth. Andrax leapt to his feet and sidestepped away from the hand, grasping the changeling’s wrists behind her head. She thrashed desperately, but Andrax’s grip was strong.
    “Fools! Can’t you be trusted to guard a solitary, unarmed wood elf?!” screamed the woman as Andrax struggled to keep her still. He punched her hard in the side and pulled his cudgel under her chin, pinioning her fast against his body as he faced the lady of the castle.
    Trixie Bower looked as if the changeling had struck her in the face. “I beg your forgiveness, my love. The guards abandoned their posts and slipped down the Heartriver when they saw the Fay gathered outside. Then the wood elf slithered through Halla’s fingers. She was still drunk with lust and her hands were shaking when she undid the vise that held his head. He grabbed the knife and… Then he set the slaves on Brandi. We thought we had control…” Tricia howled in rage, drawing blood with the point of her blade. “Unhand her, Overseer, or I will decapitate your wretched wood elf. Quickly, Neora, the slipstream. You must…”
    Trixie Bower gasped, a black blade sprouting from her mouth. The final Bower girl fell lifeless to the floor, her blade clattering against the carpet. Herrik ran to embrace Nightgift as Andrax gasped in astonishment. The Negress stood with a thin, black skinblade jutting from the palm of her hand, a seven-foot ebony goddess resplendent in a flowing dress of lace and pearls. Neora collapsed in Andrax’s arms, the fight gone from her limbs.
    The Negress’s obsidian skin shone. “Good day, Overseer. You look well. Unhand the bitch. I have some questions for her.”

Chapter Ten: Changeling Hides True Form
    Neora tried to move her feet, but the Negress’s restraints bit cruelly into her ashen ankles. They were living vines that cut deeper into the skin the more she struggled, and they wound across her naked body like a thick red snake. Her indigo hair stuck to her wet face, and when she tried to shift her weight, the magic creepers drew fiery ribbons of blood from her heaving breasts. The futility of her situation was obvious, and all she could do was perch immobile on the tiny stool and wait for the Negress to return. The bitch has you wrapped in the palm of her ebony hand.
    In her role as the Queen of Desire’s archfiend, she would have welcomed this lacerating incarceration. She had been fucked by outrageous mechanisms with giant wooden cocks that pumped viciously into her cunt until she begged her queen for release. Minerva had nailed her hands into the ground and watched as her slaves pissed on Neora’s face and breasts, the liquid steaming in the frigid shade of the Moonheart. She had allowed the eastern tattooists to apply their needles to the wet maw between her legs, her blood mingling with cum on the slopes of her thighs.
    Yet she relished these horrors and the countless other indignities of her servitude, the moonblood coursing through her veins compelling her to go deeper into the abyss of self-abnegation. But the black Fay’s entrapment was not a pain she relished. Despite the tone of her skin, she was not Neora’s Dark Lady, and she had prevented the changeling from abducting Minerva’s precious Overseer.
    After the ill-fated confrontation in the hall, the Negress ordered Herrik to place suction cups on her nipples and drain her of the moonblood. Neora thrashed about and cursed at the meek wood elf as he pressed the hand pump and drew the priceless liquid from her tits. The pain was tremendous, and she watched