Splendid Adventure Tales (Issue 1)

Feb 26, 2021

[The following story that follows is exactly as it was sent to us by its chronicler. Cover rendered in Daz Studio; iray render; dForce hair and clothes. As usual, no pixels were harmed and all pixels of are legal age both where they are hosted and wherever this might be read or seen. All pixels signed all the appropriate consent forms, where possible.]

The Lick of the Demon's Lash

By Vivianna Romanones

"Never split the party," experienced venturers knew. "Nothing good can come from splitting the party." But it was an adage because. . .people broke it regularly, even though they knew better. This time we had been exploring the depths for what seemed like an eternity, without finding the chalice our patron had contracted us to locate and return. Hedrick, the ranger, pointed out that we had cleared this area and retraced our steps three times already, and  could search faster if we spread out. If they split up.

"Witnal, why don't you re-check that sepulcher we passed through" he told the rogue "it has lots of promising nooks and crannies. Maybe you'll find a hidden catch that opens, or something. Just be careful of traps. Oh, and Renald, see if you can climb up in the vault." Reynald was a muscular giant of a man, impressively athletic "the ribs and abutments of the vault might have hidden recesses." Hedrick paused "oh, and Vivianna, see if you can detect any previously unnoticed hints of magic in the bridged crevice."

So I set off with resolute diligence to do just that. The crevice in question was a vast chasm with a bridge spanning the slit between two parts of these catacombs. We had passed through relatively quickly, not expecting to find what we sought in that area. But we had already thoroughly searched the places we expected the chalice to be, so I returned to it. 

I had just finished examining the south side of the crevice, and trod the bridge intent on similarly exploring the north when out of the corner of my eye I saw a red, glistening figure drop down from unseen heights far above. The creature was definitely a he. He landed deftly behind me, with the predatory ease of a panther. I spun to face this new presence, but even before I could finish his arm struck out, his hand grasping me in a powerful grip. I seethed in outrage at his intemperance, my eyes flashing. It is one thing to be attacked by a foe, but quite another to be assailed like this. Did he not know the grappling rules? Who possibly could! As I struggled unsuccessfully to break free of his grip, eldritch flames began to kindle on his fingertips.

The fiend was tall and well-muscled. Livid veins ran like electric arcs across his red skin, and dark, curled horns crowned his bald head. As his sharp, feral eyes drank in my entire body he licked his lips with a grotesque lasciviousness. With a sudden snap his serpentine tail lashed out towards me! I yelped, more in shock than in agony, as it stung my bare thigh. It felt unnaturally slick, yet somehow both hard and flexible. With a toss of my head I shot the fiend a willful, scornful glare. My blade had dropped from my grip and fallen into the chasm when he first gripped me, but if looks could kill my eyes were daggers stabbing into his.

Yet he did not buckle. Instead his mouth opened in a cruel grin, and the tip of his tail began to smack and twitch against my thigh. To even caress my soft skin. A shiver of revulsion and panic ran up my spine. My eyes broke his stare for a brief glance over his body. The fiend was bare. Naked and hard. Rippling hard. But he was missing a vital element of masculinity.

He shook me violently in his grip when he noticed that I had noticed. "You doxy!" he snarled "You impudent hussy! . .you think that makes you safe?" I glared at him once more. It seemed now was the time for the villain's tiresome soliloquy. As I struggled in his grasp to escape this worst of all fates he snarled and continued to speak "I was ravishing damsels before you were even born! Ages, long ages past." His voice seemed dreamlike as he said that, but then grew solemn. Barbed. Nasty, as he continued. "So of course I was damned to the pits. Forced to take this form. As my punishment in hades I was to have no. . .shaft to thrust between the legs of vixens such as you. The constant urge to rapine, without the means to consummate my vile lusts. This is my curse. My eternal torment."

Now I felt his tail sliding along my hip, across me to slip under the strap of my panties and begin to pull the thin garment away, to expose me. A new shiver ran up my spine. "But there are other ways. . ." he intoned, sibilantly "I learned methods you people could not fathom about how to. . ." He sounded almost wistful now, his mouth still curled into a cruel, savagely lewd sneer while the tip of his tail curled against my flesh. Goosebumps dappled my smooth skin. I choked back a whimper, my knees suddenly feeling unnaturally weak. My chest heaved, my bosom rising as I once more tried to break his grip, but there was something mesmerizing in his eyes. I was momentarily overcome by an urge to submit to him. Magic! occult magic! He was trying to beguile me. I shook it off, but this seemed to only excite him further.

"I like a strong-willed little vamp. It tastes better when you resist!" he grunted out, his voice now filled with the heat of passion. A shudder of revulsion ran through me. With a sudden flick of the tip of his tail the silken fabric of my panties were rent, parting right where they slipped between my legs. My body bucked, my back arching as I felt a heat well within me, of my inflamed outrage rising within my heart. . .and an unwanted sense of craving filling my depths. Kindled ardor seeped between the lips of my womanhood as his tail flicked and slapped at the soft, tender lips between my legs. The speartip-shaped tip of that tail, though flexible as a serpent and slick to the touch, had a raspy coarseness as it slithered along the tender folds that rimmed the entrance to my maidenly depths. My dainty folds grew slick and warm at his touch but clamped shut, tightening as if to guard the gates to my core. My breathing became ragged, husky. My skin tingled, as if my senses had been kindled, awakened to even the smallest sensation. 

He forced me to face him head on now. Holding me at arms length his rough hands gripped my arms ferociously at the shoulder as he lifted me, holding me straight out in front of him as if my weight were nothing. My slender legs kicked feebly at the air as his tail twitched and lapped hungrily at my tingling flesh. It was like the kiss of a silken lash against my flesh, yet it raised no welts and left no marks on my body. It did arouse a sore, aching throb each time I felt its sting. Soon it was between my thighs again.

People often wonder why I wear "impractical" footwear on my adventures. It is not so impractical to wear stiletto heels, heels that can puncture and stab. Even in courts where they want guests to come unarmed, I am never defenseless. The heels are even enchanted, reinforced and capable of piercing through steel armor. Yet my efforts seemed to have no effect on this otherworldly foe.  Or at least not the desired effect. His eyes did roll back in his head and a shudder of what can only be described as ecstatic release ran through his towering body. "Yes..." he hissed, long and languid through sibilant lips. "More" he whispered, hungrily.

I writhed, my chest heaving as I struggled faintly in his inhumanly strong grip. Now he was sliding, sawing back and forth, forth and back along the full length of my lips, slick and dripping as they clenched and unclenched wantonly. I tried to kick the fiend, my legs lashing whip-like against him even as his tail continued to lick my most sensitive spot with an unspeakably ravenous urgency. It was as if the tail itself had a mind of its own and wished to devour me in its carnal cravings. It seemed to tingle and throb to every reaction my flesh had to the feel of its stroking touch.

Now the fiend was laying me on my back, with a ferocious urgency, onto the cool cobblestones of the bridge. The swollen, speartip-shaped tip of his tail curled and caressed my quivering body, jolting my legs to kick out at the air and my body to buck. I felt an aching yearning wash over me as once again the fiend's occult tendrils tried to overwhelm my mind. My psyche chafed and bridled at his efforts to control it, and once more I managed to cast off his eldritch incursions into my will, but my body was a different matter. His muscular strength was unyielding, his grip on me unbreakable as he leaned over me. I felt his hot breath against my face as he whispered unspeakably lewd mysteries into me, his sharp fangs dripping. A primal sensation washed over me as another shudder wracked my body. Then he sniffed the air, the intoxicating aroma of my arousal filling his senses. 

He must have decided this was the moment. Decided I was primed. His tail snaked between my slickened thighs, the tip parting the lips to my womb and it began to flick and twitch and throb inside me. I clenched  my teeth and my netherlips clenched down hard on it. A thunderous shudder ran up my spine as his grotesquely pulsing, throbbing tail tingled against the little, erect bud at the apex of my slit, a cascading shower of my warm, aromatic ambrosia rippling from my depths and soaking the stones under me, and running in glistening rivulets down my legs and his chest. My eyes glazed over and all conscious thought vanished from my mind.

My sleek legs kicked out wide now, rather than against his body, and I slapped my hand against the cold stone of the bridge, even as my other arm pressed against his chest, till my fingers slid up his muscular body to grip his shoulder with a desperate urgency. My head tossed back and forth, hanging over the side of the bridge, my eyes rolling back and my chest heaving as his tail continued to lick and lap at my innermost self. My filmy top had fluttered over my shoulders and dangled from the rim of the bridge at both sides of my head, like gossamer wings, exposing the soft round hills of my breasts and their pink, erect nipples to his fiery gaze. My body seemed to will him to thrust fully into me, but he continued his torturous, taunting ministrations of my saturated, shivering depths. Yet he neither fully granted me what my body craved nor giving me what my head and heart begged for. "Please" I felt myself whispering, through trembling lips "please..."

Another thundering release seemed to convulse the fiend. This one word seemed to impact him more than anything else had. "Ahhhhhh...." a guttural, excited sigh escaped his lips and his burning eyes locked with mine. "Please, what, my little doxy..."

He would never know what my answer would have been. I would never have to reveal what my answer would have been. For at that very moment, a sword thrust through his back, piercing him through. Witnal's. His eyes widened in surprise as the shaft of an arrow sprouted from his eye, shot by Hedrick. It only remained for Reynald to finish him off, as the broad-shouldered warrior lopped off the fiend's head with his greatsword. The torment was over, I laid, panting, spent. Splayed out in exhaustion across the chasm's stony bridge.

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