1. The Battered Lamp Chapter Sixteen: The Orgy of the Concubines


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    meal, and then she could hopefully get some sleep. His cock stabbed into her, balls slamming against his taint, and he erupted. She came. Her ass squeezed down on his cock as she absorbed his cum, gasping and squealing. She imagined it was Kyle cumming in her, loving her, as her body spasmed and her vision fuzzed. She was so close to being with him without any fear of killing him. “Kyle!” she purred. “Kyle!” “What a slut,” laughed the man, rolling off of her. He stood up, grabbing his pants. “I need to get some ice to cool off.” “Well, be quiet when you come back,” Fumi said, burying her face into the pillows. “I need to sleep.” “I wore you out,” he chuckled before slipping out the door. “You did,” she whispered, her eyes falling heavily as her orgasm bled out of her. She actually felt fully satiated for once. Her breathing slowed, and she succumbed to sleep, thinking about Kyle and how great it would be to make love to him, to feel him cum in her pussy and not die. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Zaritha's inner fire kept her warm as the snow fell upon the Japanese town. The mortal girl's scent was thick here. She was in the motel, a seedy place. Zaritha's eyes locked on room 203. That's where the girl was. Zaritha flexed her fingers. “Now I just need my cat's-paw.” There were rules against killing a mortal. Laws had been laid down with the universe's creation and written upon the soul of the Hidden People that prohibited the murder of a mortal unless in self-defense. She ...
    could take steps to violate those Laws, but the cost...she shuddered. Zaritha did not want to become like those terrible servants of her true master—Rashid ibn al-Marid, Sultan of the Djinn. A smile crept across her face. She may not be able to directly kill a mortal, but nothing said she couldn't get one mortal to kill another. Such a simple loophole to get around, she wondered why the rule existed to begin with. It was after midnight, the sleepy, mountain town dead. Even the bars were closed. Maybe it was the snow storm, or maybe the town just had absolutely no night life. More snow fell about her, melting as it touched her skin. She was fire incarnated in flesh. The slave bracers on her wrists itched, urging her to march straight into the little bitches room and killing her outright. “I could always force her to kill herself,” she mused, pressing her thighs together at the though. “I could make her march into the bathroom, punch the mirror and slash her wrist, bleeding out slowly and painfully on the bathroom floor.” She shivered; that sounded delicious. And then I have to return to him... Fear beat in her heart. She didn't want to do that. She wanted to hold off killing Fumi as long as possible. Zaritha didn't want to return to her Master and his cruel delights. Her body was still healing from the trauma he had already inflicted in the short time they had together. How much worse would it be if she was permanently with him? The bracers itched worse, as if they could sense her ...
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