The very air is filled with majic, this is a perfect blending of Ra and Isis and Ishtar. I can feel the thickness of it crawl upon my flesh. I do not wish to be made of bone and blood and skin, I wish to be made of spirit – only so that I may sink into their flesh and be one with their souls…. but my cock in their tight warm places will have to do.
“We should get clean…” the son of Isis whispers, I shake my head no.
I want them filthy, sweaty… I wish to lick the taste of sin from their flesh bit by bit. In truth, I do not have the patience to be absent from them any longer.
They stand at the end of the bed in our rooms. The white drapes to the outside patio dance with the warm night air and the power of the drums that still beat through the city.
I had to talk myself back from the edge to keep from taking them both on the walk of gods and showing every single fucking man that I own them!
“Undress,” I order them, my voice low with a growl.
I strip naked as well, keeping my distance still; looking at them, hunting them in my heart before I allow myself a taste. Their skin shines in the firelight of the room, the drums of the Ha’mara still pound in tune with the beat of my heart.
My chest heaves with raw energy. I try to calm myself, but it is hard to do when I look upon them. Both of them made to perfection, both of them made for fucking.
The Wench looks to the Bloodsucker, a half smile on her lips, “Maybe he doesn’t know what to do with us.”
I scream with a growl as my anger boils over and I march over to her. I grab her by the nap of her neck and turn her to the bed, bending her over.
Her scream matches mine when I plunge my cock into her and pound that naughty little pussy. Her arms flail as she tries to push up from the bed. I shove into her harder and hold, pinning her body down with nothing but my dick. I wrap my hand in her hair and drag her head back, making her spine bow painfully back.
The Bloodsucker turns to get away, my hand is around his throat before he can take a step. I drag him close as he whimpers, looking away.
“Who told you to fucking move?”
I pull from the Wench and drive into her again, making her scream.
“Look at me!”
He turns those eyes on me, the blue color so deep a man could fall and never find the bottom.
"Who told you to fucking move?" I growl between clenched teeth.
“No one, Master.”
-Excerpt from S T I G M A T A - Coming 10.24.19