Demon Gate Saga

A cool breeze blew through the house as Melanie Nile re-read her favorite book "The Women of Egypt". The CD player shuffled between discs covering modern music from the Egyptian region and re-creations of Egyptian music of the past. The gray cotton sweat pants and the soft white t-shirt served to keep any chill away. This was also her favorite thing to wear when she was home alone. It helped set the mood for her reading.

She was in a world of her own as she again read the story of Hatsheput. A part of her longed to experience the majesty of a land and time that had captured her heart.

Well, re-experience.

she mused to herself. Melanie believed she had once been a ruler of some sort in those days long past. A Pharaoh or Queen, she could not be sure.

Melanie also believed she was a slave to a very powerful ruler in another distant lifetime; his concubine in fact. She imagined herself much as she is now, thickly thighed and heavily breasted; a firmly muscled woman, with a bit of a fighter in her, yet soft and curvaceous in all the right places. She saw her past self as honey skinned, dark haired and dark eyed; which was a stark contrast to her snow white skin, red hair and blue eyes. Yet Melanie was this woman, she was sure of it.

As usual, when these thoughts took her, she went with them. She imagined herself being summoned by her master. She wore only a sheer silk gown and thin slippers. Her name was Mekhare and Melanie saw herself as Mekhare hurrying from her bed chamber and walking as briskly as was allowed in her master's grand palace. She quickly exited the slave's quarters, ignoring the looks she received from women who were not blessed enough to earn rooms of their own.

Her hurried footsteps echoed in the enormous halls, but the guards paid her no mind. They would all know she was summoned and would not risk their master's rage in delaying her. Mekhare finally reached Amunemhat's apartments. She quickly prayed to the gods that she had made good time. Amunemhat had risen to power by precision and efficiency in his actions; he expected the same of those around him.

The palace guards opened every set of doors for Mekhare which led to her master's bed chamber. Upon entering Amunemhat's room, Mekhare realized he was still asleep. And she knew he must wish to be wakened from his afternoon rest by her kiss.

Mekhare strolled to the side of the large bed in the center of the room. She pulled back the light blanket to reveal her master in all of his natural glory. This was why the other women envied her. They knew she was allowed to see Amunemhat as a woman would see a husband or lover. They were never allowed to look upon his well muscled form in a state of rest. They could never see his earthen colored chest gently rise and fall from shallow sleeping breaths. And they would never see his manhood as it was now, hanging beautifully limp, waiting to be brought to life by a skilled woman. No, they would only see him when his animal desires overcame his natural gentleness; when his need to be satisfied overcame his impulse to satisfy others; when his large, thick manhood stood firmly at attention ready to be served. And they hated her for it.

But Mekhare put such thoughts out of her mind as she climbed onto the bed. She straddled her masters' legs and took his limp member in her hands. She licked burgundy painted lips and lowered her head, taking him into her mouth. As always, Amunemhat's manhood quickly grew from her attentions. As her master grew, so did Mekhare's level of excitement. She doubled her efforts at manipulating his expanding organ, and was satisfied at its quick response.

As the first moan escaped Amunemhat's lips, Mekhare increased the intensity of her sucking and licking. She decided today would be the day she won a game Amunemhat had started. He promised Mekhare any prize she chose if she could make him cum before he was fully awake.

Amunemhat's member was now fully hardened. At its full length Mekhare had never been able to swallow it all. But today she was determined and forced her head down past the point where sense told her to stop. Mekhare felt the large head of her master's manhood slide into her tight throat. She kept it there for a moment and was surprised when her gagging stopped. Mekhare worked her tongue along his member and slid her mouth up and down his massive shaft. His thick head only left her throat when she needed air, and was quickly back inside.

After only a minute of this, Mekhare could tell he was coming close to his climax. But she could also see he was near to waking. Remembering something she had once heard the older women talking about, Mekhare reached down between her thighs, coating one finger in her own juices. Then reaching up, she slid that same finger between her master's tight butt cheeks, and slowly into his tighter hole.

She was immediately rewarded by an explosion from her master's immense manhood. His warm, thick fluid flooded her mouth, and she drank it greedily. As Amunemhat continued to cum, Mekhare swallowed every drop he offered. When his eruption finally ceased, Mekhare licked him clean. She rested her head by his softening manhood, waiting for his congratulations and words of praise. But no words came. Instead there arose a feeling she was being watched.

When Mekhare looked up to her master to ask if he felt anything, she found herself looking at a stranger. He was thickly muscled, like one of the palace guards, with his hair closely shaven. No hair touched his face. He was a very handsome man, but looking into his eyes, Mekhare could tell he was purely evil. That's why it came as no surprise when he swung his hand back, and let it fly, crashing along the side of her face.

"Ahhh!" Melanie awoke from the highly realistic dream with a start. Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest, sweat covered her body, and her inner thighs were sticky with the wetness her cunt produced.

There was nothing unusual about that. However, the feeling of being watched was still present. Melanie figured it was a left over from the dream, and decided to take a shower to wash the feeling and the stickiness away. She pushed herself up from the couch, and stared in horror, at the man from her dreams!

Melanie moved quickly, she had never been the deer in the headlights type. She threw the book at the stranger, then grabbed and hurled the small table by the couch at the man. She leaped from the couch and ran toward the distracted stranger, crashing her body into his hip, and knocking him off of his feet. Melanie was not a large woman by any means, but raising two children had taught her how to use her body effectively.

She ran to the front door, not daring or caring to look back to see how her attacker was faring. Melanie quickly opened the locks and flung the door open. Instead of a flight to freedom, she back peddled in fear and confusion. Standing at her front door, with a smug grin on his face and a cut above his left eye, was the man she had left behind her.

For once, Melanie Nile, mother of two and Egyptologist at heart, didn't know what to do. She stood there staring in shock, hesitating for just a second, and that hesitation, that lost second cost her dearly.

The dark stranger lunged for her, catching her wrists as she raised her hands defensively. He maneuvered her relatively small form until she was painfully bent backward over the stair's railing. With her in this helpless position Melanie's attacker placed both of her tiny wrists in one of his massive hands. His free hand began to roam, to search all along Melanie's still aroused body.

Shame washed through Melanie as her body began to respond to the touch of the stranger. She felt her breasts swelling, her nipples harden and that slick wetness between her legs growing under her assailant's masterful manipulation.

She gasped when the man's powerful hand grasped her t-shirt and fiercely ripped it from her body. A large part of her wanted to cry out, to demand that this man stop taking what she had not freely given. But a smaller part of her, the part that hungered for the darker side of life, wanted to scream, to voice its pleasure at being taken by one so powerful. And Melanie kept quiet, out of a fear that the smaller voice would speak first if she opened her mouth.

Her attacker didn't seem to notice any of this. Instead his focus was on the large firm breasts that jutted out at him. Their hard, red nipples called to his mouth to suck them, called to his free hand to pinch them, to pull them, to play with them. And he happily obliged. Melanie felt her body's heat rise again as the large black man's warm wet mouth closed over one nipple, alternating between sucking, flicking, and nibbling on the red nub of flesh.

Those same fires were stoked even higher as her attacker's free hand began to massage her other massive breast. He cruelly pinched her sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger causing such a pleasurable pain that Melanie couldn't stop herself from gasping aloud. But that small bit of pain broke Melanie from his spell, and allowed her to focus on other pain she was feeling. Like the pain in her back and legs from being bent into such an unnatural position. Following this pain and discomfort, she found her strength and voice and decided now was the time to end this, now was the time to scream with all her might to attract her neighbors.

Her attacker stopped suddenly, looking at her. From the look in his eyes she could see he knew she had found her strength again, but from his confident gaze Melanie also knew she had waited too long. After a series of lightening quick moves from her assailant, Melanie found herself on her knees facing the largest cock she had ever seen. She tried to scream "NO" and gave her attacker the very opening he was waiting for. He pulled her head forward burying his entire shaft in her throat.

Melanie felt her jaws being stretched obscenely. The large ebony attacker let his enormous rigid shaft rest in her throat for what seemed an eternity. The smaller woman began to panic as she felt the slight burning in her chest as her oxygen was used up. She struggled as best she could, but the larger man handled her as though she was a child. Finally, seeing no other course of action Melanie decided to satisfy her assailant's desires in the hope that he would be kinder and gentler in his ways.

The voluptuous red haired woman relaxed her neck, her throat, and her jaw. She made no moves to resist her assailant to let him know he could do as he pleased. Of course, they both knew he would have his way with her whether she fought or not, but Melanie believed the man would be more pleased if she did not. As she looked up into the eyes of the man towering above her, Melanie knew she had guessed right.

His cruel gaze met her own as the ebony man began to glide Melanie's head along his long, thick shaft. She tried her best to use her talented tongue, licking the under side of his cock, twirling it around his massive cock head. But found her mouth was too full of the immense organ. Minutes passed as she was forced to perform the simplest of blowjobs, sliding back and forth along an impossibly large shaft. Melanie felt his cock growing harder and thicker as her wet warm mouth and tight throat did their work. She knew he was close to exploding and hoped it would end her ordeal.

Melanie suddenly felt an irresistible urge to gaze up at her attacker again. As she did so, his hands tightly grasped her head, and a smile spread across his cruelly twisted face. Melanie's eyes widened as his already evil eyes began to fill with blood.

"Mmmmm. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were the right one." He said. "I knew you were intelligent, I knew you would know when the fight was lost."

The man's grip became like a vice on her head. He began to quickly and fiercely thrust his hips forward, bloodying her lower lip, jarring her neck, and fucking her throat raw.

"That's why you will be the first!" he roared still continuing his assault. As the pain from his thrusts grew in her head, Melanie noticed another sensation she was feeling; one of increasing ecstasy. And she realized, to her horror, that she had been fingering her dripping cunt for some time, trying to make herself come along with her attacker.

Even after realizing this, Melanie was unable to stop herself. The ebony tower began moaning in a way that spelled the end of his endurance, and Melanie knew her own orgasm would follow soon after. Sensing that she must, the red haired beauty looked up into those frightful red eyes. As his powerful dark hands continued to hold Melanie's head, a triumphant smile spread across the black man's face and an otherworldly voice poured through his lips.

"I declare you the vessel for the mind!" he announced at the moment his cock twitched and his seed spilled from it. As her attacker flooded her mouth with his cum, Melanie's mind flooded with pain. She felt herself choking on the massive amount of thick fluid that slid down her throat, as she slid into blackness.

**********

Black what a wonderful color. Gail looked at herself in the full length mirror noting how the black dress played off of her body. She pulled her long dark blond hair back and twisted it, creating a makeshift bun. Deciding against such an extreme look, she let her thick locks tumble back down past her shoulders.

For the first time in years Gail felt unsure about herself. This was an auspicious occasion. It wasn't

the

first time this would be done, but it was the first time she would be doing it. She wanted to make a good impression. She wanted to do this right. She couldn't believe she was getting this worked up over someone who was her inferior.

Gail turned to the only other occupant in the room; a male servant. She thought back to the times when a man of his barrel build and surly demeanor would intimidate her. Now his physical strength was of no concern to her. And as long as his will stayed broken, he would be safe. "You servant," She called, the sharpness in her tone making the man jump, "How do I look?"

"You are perfection Mistress." The man answered. And he spoke the truth. Gail was the most flawless beauty to grace the world in ages. No blemish would ever mar her pristine skin. Her slim form was toned to accentuate every possible curve of her body. She was the kind of beauty men would wage wars over.

All this, and power too.

She thought, turning away from the mirror. She was the one in command here. It was time to get this over with...

**********

**SPLOOSH!!**

The water felt incredibly cool after the day's heat. But Krista wasn't here to escape the summer temperatures, she was here to train. The young college student began slowly pulling her slim athletic body through the water with powerful strokes. This day was assigned to working on endurance, and she would have to pace herself to get a complete workout.

As Krista glided through the cool waters she focused and re-focused on her goals. Endurance and form. Always form. She had to be sure that every stroke in practice was performed with the utmost efficiency so that her body would automatically execute perfect strokes in the heat of competition. Krista focused her mind on how her arms left the water. How her hands broke the clear surface. She focused on the turn of her head, moving it just enough to catch that necessary breath.

It was during one of these turns that Krista's mind started playing tricks on her. She briefly saw the outline of another swimmer in the lane beside her. Surprised, she quickly stopped and searched the pool. Wading there, in the middle of the Olympic sized construct, Krista saw nothing but water. The young woman continued on, her strange vision resting uncomfortably in the back of her mind.

After only a few laps, her worry began to fade. Krista began swimming with a bit more vigor, now that she was confidant that she would be able to complete the day's endurance training. She slid through the water with ease. Those swimmer's instincts she had been working on for years began taking over. Krista felt herself beginning to enter that area, that zone where nothing could bother her, where there is only the goal. Quite suddenly she also felt hands passing along her body.

Krista again searched the pool and became worried. She didn't feel exhausted, but her mind was obviously playing tricks on her. No one else was even in the room. She decided to take this as a sign she needed a break and climbed from the pool.

As always, the petite woman was embarrassed by the effect the cool water and the vigorous activity had on her. Her tiny nipples pushed against the thin fabric of her swimsuit. On more than one occasion Krista's boyfriend had taken her aside after a competition. Watching so many young fit women in skimpy swim suits always turned him on. But when he saw her, climbing out of the pool, her closely cut hair plastered to her face; her firm, supple body soaking; and her small, hard nipples standing firmly underneath her swim suit; he couldn't wait. Krista sat in the small heated pool and thought about what he'd do to her if he saw her now.

Paul had often talked of making love to her in this pool. And every time he did, Krista would dare him to, hoping that he took the bait. It was a secret fantasy of hers to have sex in this pool, as well as the Olympic sized one twenty feet away. She imagined Paul at the end of the pool slowly stripping away his clothes. She imagined the motions of his tight muscles as he let his clothes fall to the floor. She imagined his beautiful cock springing from his pants long and hard, eagerly anticipating the events to come. She... she... Krista realized that she couldn't be exhausted if her mind could be so focused. Ever the responsible one, the young swimmer pulled herself from the comforts of the heated pool to continue her training. Her fantasy would have to wait.

**SPLOOSH** Krista's slim form sped through the water. She focused her mind on keeping her arms in proper form as she pulled herself through the water; she focused on keeping her kicks tight and controlled; she focused on catching a good breath on her head turn and slowly releasing that breath as she swam on. Her focus was broken as she felt fingers pass along her chest, stomach and thighs!

Krista quickly scanned the pool. She searched the deck, the heated pool, even the diving boards for a hint of who was there with her. Nothing! Again Krista chalked it up to her imagination. To her desire to have Paul's hands running across her lithe figure.

The young swimmer began her laps again. She tried to regain her focus, but couldn't get her mind off of the wonderful feeling of those fingers on her body. As though brought on by her thoughts, the fingers ran along her body again. This time Krista ignored them. If her imagination was this strong she would enjoy its strength.

She reached one end of the pool and performed an underwater flip. As she was tucked beneath the surface she felt the fingers again. Roaming, caressing, and exploring her firm figure. As she straightened from the tuck she felt the long fingers wrap around her longingly. As she pushed from the wall, she felt the fingers fall away behind her. Though she enjoyed the caress, she ignored it all.

Krista glided through the water, keeping her thoughts on body placement, keeping her mind on form. With every lap she found she was able to ignore the sensation of the water fingers on her body. After seven laps the feeling of those fingers was pushed back to the recesses of her mind. As she executed another perfect flip, and pushed off of the wall, Krista congratulated herself on her ability to focus.

In the second it took her to form the thought, the young swimmer felt those watery fingers close around her ankle. In the time it took to question the reality of her situation those same fingers solidified into an invisible hand, firming its grip. In less time than it took for her to panic, to kick, to scream, that hand pulled her beneath the water's surface.