This is my first submission to Literotica, although it is not the first time others will be reading what I write. Friends of mine have read the first four chapters of the erotic fantasy novel I have been writing for the last few years and have expressed VERY positive feedback. But they are my friends.
The Temptress
is Chapter One of that book but not the first book of the series of which it is part. I guess I am looking for genuine enthusiasm, an HONEST review and critique, and a reason to continue my writing this story (which, by the way, is a romantic story that unfolds throughout the course of the books.)
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As night crept across the lands of Demnos, the gray sky of the dreary, rain-soaked day continued to deepen until it was impossible to tell when the day ended and the night began. Far below the towering craggy edifice of Demon's Peak, lights in the city of Xyn started flickering to life in windows and on street corners. The inhabitants were provided with a measure of supposed protection against the all too real creatures lurking in the dark just past the last houses on the outskirts of the city. The streets bustled with both the necessary evening traffic and those seeking entertainment at one of the many taverns, fest halls or brothels throughout the city. Shopkeepers were finishing closing up shop and securing their establishments from unwelcome nocturnal intruders. Despite the inclement weather, the pervasive ambiance of Xyn's celebrants was as festive as always.
The dome-shaped buildings that comprise the bustling valley city were typical of those found across the face of Tiaceor. Sturdy in construction, they could withstand many kinds of punishment and look only a little worse for the wear. The domes were all of varying sizes, built according to its function and the owner's needs---as well as the depth of his or her purse.
High above the city, a pair of glowing yellow eyes looked down at the goings-on from the relative comfort of a very large and well-fortified keep. To the otherworldly eyes regarding the scene, the rain obscured the view only a little. The rain pitter-pattered in large puddles on the balconies of the three enormous windows outside the castle's throne room. A tall, lone, dark figure stood in the window, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of the rain as it gently tapped against her hot ebony skin and soaked her long, thick raven tresses. Small droplets grew bigger until their weight pulled them down her naked flesh, tickling her lightly as they rolled. As she stood there, tiny rivulets also flowed from the longest ends of her hair and down between her large bat-like wings; from there, the water followed the curve of her back until finding its way around the base of her well-muscled tail and between the tight cheeks of her ass where it mixed with the lubrication of her already wet pussy. Droplets fell too from the rings piercing her nipples after collecting and hanging there for a moment. The unnatural heat given off by her body caused the mistress of the keep to be surrounded by a wispy nimbus of steam.
Demon's Peak had been well named by the early settlers who first looked upon the immense, foreboding mountain with an equal mixture of awe and fear, though mostly the latter. There were many who wondered if the name had actually been an unrecognized prophesy, especially since a demoness had been calling it her home for the past eighty years.
Standing just slightly taller than most human and some ork males, War Mistress L'tirashin Jadour was an imposing sight to behold. Her manner and bearing left no doubt in anyone's mind that she was not a being with whom someone trifled. Of course, her glowing yellow eyes, large bat wings and long tail only served to accentuate her otherworldly visage and make those around her fearful of inviting her wrath.
As if by its own accord, L'tirashin's left hand slid slowly across her thigh, inching toward the black tangle of her hairy mound. Her long, talon-tipped fingers pushed through the slick folds of her labia until they found her already excited clit. L'tirashin flicked at it a few times before shoving her fingers deep into her pussy.
Fools!
she spat in her thoughts as her other hand cupped her right breast and brought it to her mouth. L'tirashin's tongue darted out and rubbed across the hardening tip of the nipple. Using her teeth, she tugged firmly at the ornamental piercing, increasing her passion as her fingers probed even deeper into her vaginal flower.
See how they go about their lives, totally oblivious to the coming darkness!
she mused as she continued to masturbate. It excited the wicked demoness beyond mere words every time she used either her infernal powers or her mastery of the arcane magic. Very soon after her arrival on this world the inhabitants called Tiaceor, a phenomenon heretofore not experienced by L'tirashin came to light: without exception, whenever the demoness cast any of the spells she knew, she would feel the need for some kind of sexual gratification. It was almost without exception, the more powerful the spell that was cast, the greater the urge that followed. Although L'tirashin had always possessed a fierce carnal appetite, there were inevitably times when sex of any sort---ranging from simply masturbating to enjoying a full-blown orgy---just was not possible. Of course, it went without saying that those missed chances for libidinous indulgences were made up for at the first opportunity . . .and then some. L'tirashin tried to discover the reason for the odd, but very pleasant, connection but was far less successful than the learned sages, wizards, sorcerers, and priests who had studied it for centuries before her arrival.
As she felt an orgasm beginning to build within her, L'tirashin leaned her head back and turned it from side to side, causing her rain-soaked blue-black hair to brush across the top of her tight buttocks and base of her tail. Faster and faster L'tirashin plunged her fingers in and out until they were almost a blur of motion, working their own kind of magic on her pussy. With her excitement nearing its climactic peak, she brought her mouth back down on her melon-sized breast back together and bit down hard on the nipple. Her elongated, razor-sharp canines punctured two small holes on either side of the silver ring dangling from the very stiff and protruding nub. A small ooze of dark crimson leaked out then vanished with a swipe of L'tirashin's tongue.
The peak L'tirashin had felt stirring deep in her loins was almost upon her. A mask of pure rapture and euphoria washed over her beautiful, though otherworldly, face and brought a glaze to her glowing eyes just as the first wave of her orgasm caused her cunt to spasm and shudder. Slowly, the sensations ebbed then ceased. A smile of partial satisfaction pulled at the corners of her full lips.
"That was nice," L'tirashin said as she brought her hand up and started licking her cum-soaked fingers clean. "But. . ." L'tirashin's tail swished back and forth in anticipation as she let the thought trail off. As her wings folded quietly across her back and around her shoulders like a natural cape, the demoness turned away from the window. The talons on her toes clicked softly against the highly polished black marble floor of her huge audience chamber as she strode purposefully toward her throne.
In passing, L'tirashin glanced up momentarily at one of the eight colossal columns that supported the high, vaulted ceiling fifty feet overhead. The girth of any one of them was so great it would require six men, with out-stretched arms, to encircle it. Running almost the entire length of each, from floor to ceiling, were highly detailed bass relief carvings of scenes depicting the torture of the souls of the damned, cast into the Abyss's bottomless darkness. L'tirashin could recall only too well being on the receiving end of many of those terrible torments during her first few centuries of her afterlife she spent deep in the Abyss's lower planes. Over the many, many long years, she had managed literally claw her way up to positions of greater and greater power until she was one of the torturers. Mortal minds had yet to devise a method of torment that had not been perfected by the Everdark's resident experts, as well as many that even the most twisted ephemeral mind could not conceive.
