An Erotic Fantasy

Ice tiger meat was dark brown, tender and juicy but only when Fauna prepared it in wild berry wine. She said she found the berries when she was digging for grubs. The berry vines grew upside down; their roots took nourishment from the eternal snow and the fruit ripened in the temperate earth. That’s what gave the king the idea to dig. Accessible by a narrow, five-hundred meter tunnel, our new home was easy to heat, protected us from straying wild and needed no generator. 

The king sat with his back to the fire, stripped the meat from the ice tiger bone with his teeth and threw it behind his back towards the fire.  It clattered on the white-tiled floor. When they had dug this chamber, they’d found tons of this material--organic rocks, they called it, white and hard as stone. The remains of the forgotten civilization. Bone covered the floors, skulls formed the fireplace.

He pulled his knife from its leather sheath. He shaved a sliver of meat from the animal’s massive skinned head. The meat around the cheek bones was especially tasty, judging by the look on the king’s face.

Fauna poured the king a mug of wine. He swallowed his mouthful of meat with a gulp of sweet berry wine and pinched a handful of Fauna’s ample behind. She set her wine jug aside, wrung steaming, perfumed water from a cloth back into a bowl and dabbed gravy from the king’s cheek. 

She took his hand and cleaned the grease from his long, strong fingers. She turned his hand and kissed his palm. She laid it on her chest. The king gripped her breast, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. She covered his mouth with hers. His lips parted and their glistening tongues met.

The king stood and bent her backwards over a clear spot on the heavy wooden table, their lips never separating. He threw her skirt back, reached down and spread her velvety legs. His finger traced a path along her smooth thigh, over her soft, white belly and circled back to her moist folds. 

He attacked her pussy with his tongue, plunging it into her depths, pulling it back out and circling her pearl, that spot of her soul. Fauna’s body rose and fell to meet each new onslaught. Whimpers escaped her lips and she pulled him in tighter, her fingers clutching the base of his skull. But the king was not going to let her finish that easily.

He stood, grabbed her behind her head, pulled her face in close and kissed her, long, deep, succulent. He pushed her down on her knees facing the fireplace. Her eyes reflected the flames dancing behind the other skulls’ empty sockets. He unlaced his pants, knelt behind her and penetrated her with two fingers. Her body forced his fingers in deeper, demanding violation. He pulled his fingers out and rammed his cock in their place. Fauna’s cry was drowned out by the liquid sound of his body slapping hers in a desperate rhythm. 

 

He clutched her hips and drove into her as deeply as he could. His fingers reached down and grabbed her pearl, that spot of her soul, teasing, pinching. Still thrusting, his face twisted as if he was claiming every last right to possess her. Fauna’s body began to rise, vibrating involuntarily and her body seemed on the verge of collapsing.

Deep in the earth below us, the rock thundered as if it would split apart. The door to the king’s chamber flew open and banged against the stone wall.

“Master! The snows have stopped,” the page said. “The temperature rises. The great hall below fills with water!” 

Fauna got to her feet, smoothed her skirt and scurried out of the chamber. The king adjusted himself, shook the passion from his head like a wet dog and waved the page away. He stared at the fireplace, at the stack of skulls containing the heat, their hollow, drying bone reflecting the dying flames. He approached slowly and laid his hand on the topmost skull, my skull.

“I am so sorry that you have to watch that night after night,” the king said. “But rest assured, I think only of you, fair Flora.”

He stared into the sockets that still contained my soul. “I see you here and think only of your skilled mouth and how you would take in my full length. I hear you sucking and feel your tongue against my…” 

The king reached down and adjusted himself again. Even in this form, I could still make him hard.

“I dream of lying at your breast and sharing your milk with our son…”

He patted the tiny skull cemented here next to mine, the eye sockets as empty and hollow as the others that formed the fireplace.

“Master! The water level rises! Save yourself before we all perish!” the page screamed through the door and disappeared.

“I am not going to leave you here, Flora. Nor am I ready to set you free.” He pulled a dagger and pried my skull free. “I will avenge the men who did this to you and to our son!”

Darkness enveloped me as he stuffed my skull into a burlap sack. It swayed as he ran out of the chamber. Forever enslaved, the master’s maid.