Chapter 1
Asiara grinned to hear the clank of her body guards’ armor as they marched beside her. They had all insisted on coming to this parlay fully armed in their thick suits of metallic scales and face covering helms, but as they walked through the rapidly approaching dusk, she couldn’t help but think that it far too warm and pleasant an evening to be trapped within such restrictive armor.
Of course, on one hand, she could hardly blame them – they were about to walk into an enemy camp, enter the tent of their commanding officers, and demand surrender. It made sense to be ready for the worst.
But while Asiara counted on her thick scale mail to get her through the hectic nature of combat on the battle field, in the close quarters of the opposing generals’ tent, she knew that dexterity would be the key. And that was exactly what her current outfit afforded her. On her feet she wore a pair of close fitting boots made of supple leather that would allow her to move quickly and gracefully. On her legs she wore a simple, tan pair of skin tight leggings that would do nothing to encumber her actions. And to protect her torso, she wore a simple shirt of lightweight chainmail over a thin woolen tunic.
On her head she wore nothing. This allowed her curly black hair to be free, and her dark, mysterious eyes to be in full view. It also left all who saw her under the spell of her bewitching beauty, as her delicate, pale skin, mischievous grin and alluring, side-long glances had drawn many an unsuspecting man and woman to their rapture – and their destruction.
And this, too, was a benefit of her light attire. Asiara knew that her reputation preceded her; she knew that when she entered her enemies’ tent, they would be prepared to see Asiara the Great Warrior. In their minds, she was a ten foot Amazon with muscles that could match the most giant of men. They imagined her to be a walking arsenal of deadly weapons and assumed she’d do everything she could to intimidate them with her military might.
But when she entered that tent in her sparse attire, her appearance would surprise and confuse them, thus giving her the upper hand. For rather than the strapping Amazon that they would expect, what they would actually see would be a woman of average height with a figure that resembles that of a sensuous, slim, and agile dancer rather than that of a powerful warrior woman. Her many legendary victories on the battlefield would continue to inspire fear, but her alluring beauty would utterly disarm them.
And being disarmed in the presence of someone as ruthless and cunning as Asiara was a very dangerous state.
Partheon, Asiara’s top general and confidant had insisted that she protect herself with something more tangible, to wear more armor, but she ignored his behests. She would have her opposition so off balance that they would agree to her terms before they even knew what they were doing.
Besides, even if these negotiations did end in combat, Asiara was sure that she could handle herself. As she thought this, her hand strayed down until it rested softly on Phyxilir, her famous long sword, a weapon whose appearance mirrored that of its owner.
The Queen had given her this sword when she had named Asiara the Captain of the Annol Army, and Defender of the Annol Kingdom. It had been used in the Queen’s service for more than three hundred years, and had become a thing of legend, for its wielder had never been bested in direct combat. Asiara’s own startling success on the battlefield had only added to the sword’s considerable legend.
But like Asiara itself, the sword’s appearance took those who had never seen it by surprise. It wasn’t a giant, two-handed saber, encrusted with jewels and sheathed in a scabbard of solid platinum. It was a simple and elegant weapon, with a mysterious and alluring beauty. Asiara kept it at her side in a slim and elegant scabbard, and it’s strong yet delicate pommel gave little indication of the many deadly battles it had seen.
On her other hip, Asiara wore a short sword whose appearance was very similar to that of Phyxilir. Asiara had named this simple blade Finisher, as it was often the weapon that dealt the final death blow to her opponents while she used Phyxilir to parry their attacks. Finisher had quite a reputation, as well, but that was all due to Asiara’s own prowess, for the short sword had had no other owner. Asiara couldn’t quite remember when she first came across the blade, but she knew that she had had it long before the Queen graced her with Phyxilir.
An expert in two handed combat, these weapons were all that Asiara would need. She scoffed at the bodyguards around her – these five men each had their backs and belts littered with different weapons. Asiara had always preferred the fast and versatile fighting style that her two blades afforded her, and saw no reason to carry any more arms than her two deadly blades.
“There they are.” Nathran, the head of Asiara’s bodyguards broke Asiara out of her reverie as the group rounded a small outcropping of rock and came into view of the Sersiphi army, spread over a wide flat expanse in the middle of the grassy, hilly terrain that surrounded them.
If it could really be called an army, Asiara mused. Scanning the scene in front of her Asiara took stock of what they were really up against. The Queen had mentioned that the Sersiphi army was small, but Asiara was stunned to see just how few soldiers they seemed to have, and how unprepared for war they seemed.
She had known that they were a cultish group, known more for their attempts at sorcery than for their military prowess, but she was shocked by just how weak they all appeared. The warriors that she was able to spot were ill-equipped, and the swords that they carried at their sides seemed foreign to them – as though they had only been in possession of the weapons for a few weeks. But what was most surprising were the many sorcerers that she saw. Unlike the well trained mages in her own army, these were charlatans, praying to their idols for curses and cures that Asiara knew wouldn’t come. This would all be far too easy.
For just a moment she felt a twinge of anger that her Queen had sent her on so far a journey just to stamp out a rebellion that appeared to be so pitiful, but that feeling quickly vanished as her devotion to her Queen flooded through her. She longed to return to her primary mission – an invasion of the Maurial Kingdom to the South, and this diversion would delay their assault, and perhaps reveal their presence, giving the Maurial forces time to organize. But The Queen had commanded that she remove this threat to her kingdom, and that is what Asiara would do.
Striding through the enemy camp, Asiara and her bodyguards reached the central Sersiphi tent and, without ceremony, she pulled open the flap and entered. As her guards fanned out behind her, Asiara glanced around the room, taking in a sight that had become quite familiar to her. On the far end of the tent was a long wooden table, behind which sat the three leaders of the Sersiphi. These three men were dressed in plain brown cloaks, and the man in the middle wore a thin leather band around his head, marking him as the leader of the camp: Brolleon. As Asiara entered, a thin serving girl with auburn braids on either side of her head was pouring each of the men a glass of wine. When she was finished, she moved to the corner of the tent, leaving the men to conduct their business.
The Sersiphi leaders looked up at Asiara and, as she suspected, they gasped to see that the ferocious warrior woman that they had expected did not match what their imaginations had conjured. Asiara walked in her confident but alluring way into the center of the tent, ready for the negotiations to begin.
As she did so, she made a mental note of what she and her guards would be up against if anything should go wrong. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance, and two more had taken up positions on either side of the tent, flanking Asiara. Six men in total, plus the three leaders in front of her. Asiara knew that she and the five guards she had brought with her could make quick work of this group if things came to blows.
But that was the least likely possibility. After all, she had followed the standard practice of instructing her army to attack at daybreak the next morning if she didn’t return. The Sersiphi army wouldn’t stand a chance against such an all-out offensive, so attacking her now would be akin to suicide on their part.
No, the only real question in these negotiations was whether they would surrender immediately, or if they would at least make some effort to save face.
“Leaders of the Sersiphi, I am Asiara, Captain of the Annols. I have come on behalf of my Queen to suppress your rebellion, and to bring you back in line with her decrees. If you swear fealty to her now, we will only require a modest payment in gold as punishment for your insolence.”
Brolleon seemed slightly taken aback upon hearing Asiara’s smoky, sultry voice. Still, he pulled himself together and responded, “Asiara, what you ask for is surrender. That is something we cannot do.”
“Then you will be destroyed. My army will attack first thing tomorrow and, as you know, your army cannot withstand the full might of the Queen’s army. No army can.”
“Do you really think that we started our rebellion only to give in to the first show of might that your little Queen sends our way? We didn’t unite our people in arms for nothing!”
“Of course not. You suspected that the Queen would respond with an army befitting the size of the threat – in other words, a small one. But that is not what you are facing. If you choose war, the battle will be short and decisive. You know this as well as I do. Your people are counting on you to do the wise thing.”
As she said this, Asiara once again felt a twinge of indignation as the overwhelming odds in her favor made all of this seem beneath her. Why had her Queen sent her here? The Maurials to the South would prove a much greater challenge, and Asiara would have preferred to save her army’s strength for that invasion. Whatever the reason, though, it was not her place to question. She would simply get this over with quickly and then return to the capitol.
Unfortunately, Bolleon did not seem to want to cooperate. “You know as well as anyone, Asiara, that a strong leader is far more important than a large and well-trained army. Your own skills in this regard are quite renowned.”
“That is all the more reason for you to surrender now, while you have the chance.” Even as she said this, Asiara felt the familiar prickling on the back of her neck that told her that there was danger in the air. She could hear her body guards subtly shifting their weight as they, too, felt this threat beginning to grow.
“Indeed, with you at the head of the army, we would stand no chance. But that is why we have made arrangements to ensure that you will not be at the head of the army.”
“If you intend to try to kill me while I am in your camp, it will only make matters worse for you. Even without me, my army will make short work of your pitiful band. And if any harm comes to me, I can assure you, there will be no surrender, only slaughter.” Asiara was confident in the words she had just spoken, but she was also confident that it wouldn’t come to that. She let her hands move subtly towards the hilts of her swords as the discussion continued.
“Ah, but by your own admission, a great leader can make quite the difference. And my ‘pitiful band’ will soon have the greatest leader of all.”
“Hah,” Asiara scoffed, “and who is that leader? You?”
“No, Asiara. That leader is you!”
Asiara heard the sound of metal scraping against metal as the Sersiphi guards drew their swords.
Negotiations were clearly over, and Asiara was ready for action. With a single motion, she leapt onto the table, drawing both of her blades at the same time. She landed on the table with an emphatic “thunk,” and swung her blades in unison, cutting Bolleon down in a pair of swipes that cut his head cleanly off of his body.
Not hesitating to admire her handiwork, she kicked with her right leg, catching the man who had sat next to Bolleon squarely in the face. She felt his nose and cheek collapse under the force of her boot, and he fell backwards, out of his chair. She didn’t know if he was dead or not, but he would no longer be a factor in this fight.
The man on Bolleon’s other side had drawn a dagger and now attacked Asiara from her left, but Phyxilir was already in position to intercept his thrust. Jamming the longsword hard into the air, she raised her assailant’s own arm straight above him, leaving his torso completely exposed to Finisher, which earned its name as the short sword plunged into the man’s heart.
Asiara’s next move was borne of instinct – an instinct that had served her well over the years. She sprung backwards, off of the table just as one of the Sersiphi guards charged her from behind. Flipping in the air, she landed gracefully behind the warrior, then plunged Finisher into his back before he had time to react. The sword drove through the man’s leather armor and severed his spine.
Unfortunately, the blade was caught in the man’s ribs, so Asiara had to let it go for the time being. She wasn’t too concerned, though – spinning around so that she could take stock of the combat that had been happening behind her, she was certain that she would see the final stages of a lop-sided skirmish as her guards finished off the pathetic Sersiphi fighters.
What Asiara actually saw was shocking to her. Three Sersiphi guards lay dead on the ground, but the others were still standing, watching as Asiara’s guards slowly slumped to the ground. Asiara’s mind raced to find an explanation for what had happened, even as she assumed her battle stance, ready to take on the Sersiphi herself.
A sharp pain in her neck alerted her to her one crucial mistake. Spinning around once again, her free hand went to the small dart in her neck at the same time that her eyes fell upon her attacker. Standing in the corner of the tent, the serving girl still stood, forgotten. Only now, the young woman held a small blow-gun in her hands, and a sly, confident look on her face.
Asiara tried to resist the poison that was spreading through her body, but the room had already begun to spin, and her knees felt weak. Phyxilir slipped from her grasp as she fell onto the table in front of her. Her knees buckled, and she gripped the wooden surface before her, trying to keep herself up-right. But it was no use. As she crumpled to the side, onto the packed earth floor, she felt all of her strength ebbing from her limbs. She looked up at the ceiling of the tent, which now seemed to be spiraling endlessly above her, and then all was dark…
Chapter 2
The next thing that Asiara was aware of was a scent. She couldn’t place it, but it put her in mind of… she wasn’t sure what, but whatever it was, it seemed to be everywhere, filling her nostrils, and it was… affecting her, somehow.
There was also something cold and hard beneath her – as though she were lying on stone. And there were voices – soft and chanting – nearby, but she couldn’t make out what any of them were saying.
When Asiara pulled her eyes open, she found that she was no longer in the tent. She only had the strength to keep her eyes open for a moment, but in that moment she was able to recognize the stars above her, and light from the green moon filled her eyes.
As her eyes fell closed once again, she forced her mind to think. She was cold. This was to be expected since she was outside in the night air, but still, she shouldn’t be quite this cold. Then she realized: she was naked!
This realization gave her enough strength to force her eyes open once again. Holding them open a bit longer this time, she took in a few more details of her surroundings. She was lying on some kind of stone platform, and was surrounded by people – the Sersiphi, she realized. A few of them were immediately next to the platform that held her; looking down at her and holding small braziers that were emitting wisps of smoke. Asiara realized that this was the source of the scent that she had detected as she awoke.
Behind this small group, a large group – probably all of the other Sersiphi, judging by the size of the crowd, had gathered around her, and were slowly, suggestively dancing as they chanted words that Asiara could not understand.
Asiara’s strength gave out again, and she allowed her eyes to flutter closed once more. She was in danger, that much was clear. The platform that she was lying on must be some sort of altar, she realized, and she was to be a sacrifice. It was night, so her armies wouldn’t come to massacre these pathetic people for several more hours. If she was going to escape, she’d have to accomplish it herself.
But her body refused to respond to her commands. She tried to move her legs, but could only manage to shift them slightly. She certainly didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone fight. The efforts of trying move, as well as the energy that she’d spent taking all this in left her drained, and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness once more…
“No!” she thought. “I have to resist this. I have to escape.” She struggled to open her eyes again. This time, when she did so, she saw a woman standing at the head of the altar, leaning over her – Asiara’s clouded mind tried to remember where she’d seen this woman before. Vague memories of the tent, of a serving girl, of a dart, all flitted through her mind. Then, the beautiful young woman lowered her hands to either side of Asiara’s head, stroking her temples and cheeks softly.
Asiara’s eyes fluttered shut once more at this touch, and she let out a slight gasp. Something about this woman’s touch was electric, and Asiara was already… aroused – that was it; that was what that scent reminded her of. The smell was turning her on, and this woman’s seductive touch was increasing the effect. She forced her eyes open again, and found herself staring directly into the beautiful face of the woman, who was smiling down at her.
“Relax, my dear. We are going to make you feel so good. And we are going to fill you with power.”
With that, the woman withdrew her hands, causing Asiara to involuntarily let out a slight, whiny moan at losing the contact. Yes, there was no denying it, Asiara was aroused. She could feel the wetness in her sex and her nipples – already quite hard from the cold air – were now throbbing slightly in their need for attention.
Asiara had just cracked her eyes open again when two pairs of hands slipped beneath her back and lifted her torso into a sitting position and causing her eyes to roll back into her head as her neck was too weak to support her. Another pair of hands offered a bowl to her lips, and she felt a mysterious, fiery liquid being poured into her mouth. Some of it spilled out of her lips, the rivulets teasing her sensitive skin, but most of it passed down her throat, burning slightly as it went.
As the liquid slid into her, Asiara was lowered back down to the altar. The burning didn’t stop when it reached her stomach, but it wasn’t an unpleasant burning. It felt more like a tingly warmth that quickly began to spread from her stomach into other parts of her body. Soon her whole body was alive with a sensation of heat, and of passion. Asiara let out a long moan as the sensations bombarding her body continued to increase her arousal.
She also found that whatever she had drunk was bringing some life back to her drugged, limp body. She still doubted that she had the power to stand, but the heaviness had waned slightly. She was able to seductively rub her thighs together, trying to get some friction on the sensitive area between her legs, and her arms were slowly, lethargically trying to caress her own skin.
Then, the beautiful young woman’s hands returned, holding her head in place, which she suddenly realized had been moving from side to side as she tried to writhe on the altar. The woman leaned closer and closer to Asiara, bringing her mouth down slowly towards Asiara’s own. Eventually, she was so close that Asiara could feel the breath from the woman’s nose on her chin, and her lips were mere centimeters away. The woman’s lips parted, and her mouth descended still more.
But it wasn’t a kiss that Asiara felt – the woman was flicking her tongue over Asiara’s lips, letting it flutter over her skin, and then retreat back into her mouth. It was an unusual motion, but one that seemed familiar to Asiara’s drug and arousal soaked mind. The woman repeated the action, and Asiara mustered what strength she had to try to raise her head slightly while opening her own lips, searching for a real kiss. But the woman pulled away slightly, and her grip on Asiara’s head prevented her from moving enough to increase the contact between their mouths.
The young woman whispered to Asiara again. “Relax, let us guide you. We will give you power unlike anything you’ve ever know. Our Goddess has chosen you to be her vessel. She will fill you with ecstasy. Let us guide her to you.”
Asiara moaned, both in arousal and frustration as she felt the woman repeat the procedure from before. This time, though, a new wave of sensations flooded Asiara’s mind as she felt several more tongues descend upon her body, claiming other parts of her with this same tantalizing yet teasing touch – flicking over her nipples, along her sides, on her forearms, on the insides of her thighs, on her calves, and on her toes. She let out a long and lustful moan as the many touches increased the sensitivity of her skin, as well as the wetness within her sex. Even in the cold air, Asiara had begun to sweat slightly, and her body was writhing as much as her lethargy would allow as these countless tongues drove her wild with erotic need. All the while, the scent filled her nostrils and the warmth from the draught continued to drive her still higher in her arousal.
Asiara no longer thought of escape, she thought only of release.
“I think she’s ready,” the young woman said, standing straight. She then disappeared from Asiara’s line of sight. The helplessly aroused woman closed her eyes and let her head thrash from side to side as her need increased. Still, these fluttering, teasing tongues were doing nothing that would ever bring her to orgasm – they were only filling her with lust and desire.
Opening her eyes, she saw that the young auburn-haired woman had reappeared, but this time at the foot of the altar. Over the collection of heads, both male and female, that were hovering around her body, driving her wild with their tongues, Asiara could see the woman quite clearly. She could also see that the woman held something, and immediately, she realized why these flickering tongues had seemed oddly familiar. In the woman’s arms was a large, powerful snake, it’s muscles rippling beneath its scales while it’s tongue continually flickered in and out of it its mouth. Asiara suddenly felt a new sensation join the continually growing need inside of her: she felt fear.
The woman stepped forward and placed the snake on the altar between Asiara’s feet. “Come, Dathaka, enter this vessel. Please, great Goddess, come to us in our time of need.”
The snake slid slowly between Asiara’s quivering thighs, its head brushing against her left leg, the tongue dancing across her skin, causing her to gasp even as the sense of impending doom gripped her. She felt hands pulling the top half of her body up away from the stone again, and the snake, now very close to her sex, veered away and slid over her hip. It slowly slid behind her, moving along her lower back with its head as the other portions of its body continued to slide along her thigh and hips, sending erotic shivers through her inflamed skin.
When the snake made its way completely around her, and began to now inch its head across her stomach, Asiara began to feel a sense of panic mix with the arousal coursing through her. She knew where this was headed, and she tried to struggle, but the hands lifting her torso off of the altar were also holding her tightly, and in her still weakened state there was nothing she could do to escape.
Her fears were confirmed when the snake made its slow, sensual, yet deadly way around her body again, coiling across her stomach and looping around her back again. By now, a large portion of the snake’s body was sliding against Asiara’s yearning, sexually charged skin, and she found herself moaning uncontrollably even as she tried in vain to escape the grip of her captors. As the snake made its way around her once more, this time slithering slowly between her breasts before coiling around the back of her neck, Asiara started doing everything in her power to clear her mind and try to think of a way out of this.
This was a difficult proposition, though. Her body was betraying her with its need for release – her skin was on fire with need, and her sex was dripping wet. Her nipples were jutting out, seeming to beg for the snake’s attention; for that probing, teasing tongue. Mixed with these overwhelming feelings was an intense fear as well, and this, like the arousal, was clouding her mind, making it nearly impossible for her to consider her options rationally.
Of course, the few rational thoughts that she could manage were of little use, as her predicament was beginning to look rather hopeless. The snake had now completely wound itself around her. Starting at her left thigh, it had wrapped its deadly body around her stomach, across her chest, resting between her breasts, and now had moved around the back of her neck until its head was next to her right ear. Its tongue stroked her cheek with its flittering, maddening, and erotic touch, and she could hear its hiss in her ear.
Asiara felt her body being lowered back to the altar. Suddenly, the whispered sounds of chanting that had been humming in the background became louder and, as they did so, Asiara could feel every muscle in the snake’s body come to life. But it wasn’t moving this time, it was squeezing, pressing itself into her more firmly, more insistently, and, to Asiara’s sex crazed mind, more erotically. With her last possible rational thought, she remembered something she had learned years ago about these constrictors: they didn’t so much crush the air out of their victims as they waited for their victim to exhale. Then, they would tighten, making it harder to draw air back in. Mustering all of the strength that she had left, she strained against the snake, determined to keep her ribcage open and her stomach and lungs as full as possible.
But her need was making this so incredibly difficult. She stifled the moans that had been flowing freely from her lips and resisted the gasps that had escaped her throat so many times in the last several minutes. She had to hold on. She didn’t know what time it was, but perhaps the dawn would arrive soon. Perhaps her army would be here to kill these cultish fools, and to pry this snake off of her. Perhaps she would be free to give herself the release that she craved so desperately.
This thought brought her mind back to the pent up frustrations in her sex, and she felt a moan slip out of her throat. The snake tightened its grip and hissed in her ear. This time, though, the hiss seemed to penetrate her mind, to take form, to speak to her.
Let go, Asiara. I only want to bring you two things that you’ve always desired: pleasure and power. I can make you feel so good. I can ease the frustration that you’re feeling. I can erase the fear. Let me take you, and you will never have need to fear again.
Asiara shook her head, not wanting the seductive voice to influence her. Still, the words that she heard eroded her resistance slightly, and she felt the snake’s muscles closing around her just a bit more. She could still breathe, but her breath was now labored, and not just because of the fiery lust that was consuming her. She was giving in. But, she was the Captain of the Annol. She had to fight!
As the chanting around her became still louder, Asiara suddenly felt something – a presence. She heard the auburn haired woman exclaim, “Feel her, my people, Dathaka is amongst us. She believes our sacrifice is worthy. She has come to lead us to victory.” And it was true, Asiara could feel the Goddess around her, floating over her body, around it, wrapped around her just like the snake. Perhaps her spirit was in the snake, or perhaps the snake was merely her tool. Either way, Asiara now felt that her struggle was not only to keep her breath, but to keep her soul, and this Goddess was intent upon ripping her soul from her lustful, yearning body.
You will give in eventually, Asiara. I know you are strong, that is why I have chosen you as my vessel. But you are smart, too. You know you cannot win. So why not relax? Why not enjoy this?
No! Asiara knew that these words were probably true, but she couldn’t let herself give in. This was a contest of wills, and she was determined to win. But then, a new sensation drove some of her resistance out of her. The auburn-haired woman had leaned down, and was now pleasuring her sex with those same tantalizing snake-kisses that she had used on Asiara’s lips earlier. As soft and teasing as these motions were, to Asiara’s frustrated, sex crazed mind they were like a pleasure filled oasis in a desert of burning erotic need. She lost control and let out a deep and yearning moan.
And as she did so, the snake constricted, squeezing more of the life out of her.
That’s it, my prize. Feel yourself giving in. It makes you feel so good. You want so badly to let go, to feel that release. Let me release you. Let me free you. Let your climax purge your heavy soul and purify your body.
Yes, Asiara thought, that would feel wonderful. To finally achieve release; to allow her orgasm to burst around that flickering yet wonderfully insistent tongue would be a rapture that she had never, in all of her conquests, both sexual and military, felt before.
Or had she? Her Queen popped into her mind at that moment. Perhaps it was her lack of air, or her arousal fogged brain, but she couldn’t remember what the Queen looked like, or even what she had said to her exactly, but she knew that she had to protect the kingdom. She had to resist!
She rolled slightly to the side, trying to pull her sex away from the woman’s tongue. Meanwhile, her hands came to rest against the snake, trying desperately to pull the deadly animal away from her oxygen deprived body. She was furiously gulping air, refusing to allow herself to succumb to the assault upon her sex, her body, her mind, and her soul.
Your resistance is so erotic, so intoxicating. The more you struggle the more intense your final release will be. And, with the intensity of your release, the depth of my power over you will be more intense as well. Fight it, Asiara, let the feelings race through you, claiming you, making you more and more mine!
Asiara’s ability to reason was lost to her now, so she struggled to comprehend what she had just heard. The voice was deeper in her mind now, and she could feel the Goddess’s soul inhabiting her body, trying to push her out. But still, she fought, fighting back the climax that she had been so desperately trying to achieve only moments ago. She was still able to breathe, though just barely, and she knew that if she gave in, if she achieved orgasm, the snake would be able to finish its task.
But all the while, the tongue continued to work its magic. And Asiara was finding that the wooziness resulting from her lack of air was only making her arousal grow still more intense. As much as the weight of the snake would allow, her body was writhing and heaving as sexual need claimed her every nerve, her every muscle – it infused the very blood coursing through her body, and ignited what little air she drew into her lungs.
Was the voice right? Was resisting only making her eventual, inevitable failure more complete? Should she just let it happen?
That’s it, Asiara. You know that this is going to happen. I am beginning to take control of you now, and that will only continue.
Asiara felt as if her mind were now being squeezed even more strongly than her body was. And the tongue between her thighs was flooding her entire being with pleasure and desire so intense that she could resist no more. Following one last attempt at struggle, one last attempt to breathe, one last attempt to escape the dastardly tongue, Asiara felt her release begin to well up within her womb. Now past the point of no return, she let out a deep and soul shattering moan, and felt the snake finish its task, squeezing the breath out of her. The presence of the Goddess became more insistent, too, pushing into her mind, trying to drive her out of her body.
Feel me claim you! That’s it, I will honor my promise! Feel the pleasure take you! Feel me inside you! I am now you, and you are nothing more than pleasure!
Asiara’s orgasm crashed upon her. She lost all ability to fight the Goddess, the lack of air combined with the climax that now washed over her to create a sensation that was unlike anything she had ever felt. All that she could think of, all that she could be aware of, all that she could be, was this pleasure, this quaking, soul destroying ecstasy of sexual release. She bucked upon the altar, flinging her head back and arching her back, suddenly unable to moan as she no longer had the necessary breath. Instead, she bucked in silent rapture, and felt, in addition to the pleasure coursing through her, a new sensation of power, of strength and ability that went beyond the limitations of her muscles. And with this came a new capacity for pleasure that was quickly filled as her climax endured, with no sign of waning. The feeling was continuous, consuming her mind and soul in a fire of lust that was more than her mortal essence could endure. As though washed away on a torrent of pleasure, Asiara’s consciousness left her. She was empty, consumed, and all was suddenly dark…
Champion of the Kingdom
The Savior
by Clare de Luna
Chapter 3
Asiara slowly felt awareness returning, although it was a state of mind that she was not accustomed to. She didn’t really feel as though she had regained consciousness – things were still blurry, and she struggled to put together complete thoughts. She still had a vague awareness of her body, she could still feel her nakedness; she could still the feel the snake, wrapped around her, wringing her life out of her; she was still unable to breath; and she was still deeply, intensely, overwhelmingly aroused. In much the same way that the snake robbed her of her ability to draw in air, the cascade of sexual energy pouring over her robbed her of her ability to think clearly.
But she didn’t need to think, anyway; she could simply revel in this never-ending lust, since her body was no longer hers to control. Through her sustained sense of erotic need, she was aware that she was moving, that her own legs were carrying her naked body, still bearing the snake, across a grassy field. And her ears told her that a small army was walking behind her. Then, she stopped. Before her, perhaps three hundred yards away, was another army – a large army, full of powerful, iron-clad warriors. In its midst stood several magi, their robes indicating the power that they held.
Asiara’s head moved, under a power that was beyond her control, to survey the scene. Two large outcroppings of rock were to either side of her, and from her vantage point she could make out the Sersiphi forces. A third of them were behind her, and a third on either side – one beyond the outcropping to her left and one beyond the outcropping to her right. On each outcropping stood a very small band of archers and warriors, not enough to be of any significance in a battle of this size. The factions to her left and right were clearly going to attempt a flanking maneuver while the middle faction, the one that she was leading, would bear the brunt of the opposing army’s attack.
Only it wasn’t the opposing army – it was the Annols; it was her own army. If only she could regain control of her body, she could rejoin them.
But every time she attempted to summon up the willpower to fight the presence in her mind that was controlling her, a ripple of pleasure would race through her, eradicating any thoughts of resistance. It was hopeless, she was merely a passive observer, bathing in sexual need, as the Goddess Dathaka took her mortal form into battle.
But even in her passive state, Asiara was still capable of examining the battle plan – doing so was, after all, practically second nature to her and required very little focus. The flanking maneuver would be obvious to the other army, but it was the best possible strategy given how outnumbered the Sersiphi forces were. There were two critical flaws in the plan, though. First, the opposing army – Asiara’s army she reminded herself again – was so large that it could easily split into thirds and neutralize the flanking advantage. Second, the Sersiphi’s middle group wasn’t strong enough to withstand the might of the opposing army’s main force for very long. Once this faction was defeated, the flanking forces would be vulnerable and helpless.
And yet, Asiara felt a strong sense of confidence in the spirit lurking within her, controlling her mind. Dathaka believed she could win this battle, and her bravado spread throughout her body – the body she shared with Asiara – and increased the wetness in her sex. Asiara was fighting to remind herself of which side she was on, but somehow it just felt so good to give in to Dathaka’s control, to let herself revel in the Goddess’s power.
And as she felt herself yielding, she suddenly gained a small glimpse into what the Goddess was planning. As their minds touched, thrilling Asiara with an erotic pulse of soul-altering lust, Asiara realized an aspect of the plan she had missed before. From her vantage point, it was clear that the small groups on the outcroppings of rock were a meager band of ill-equipped soldiers. But from where the enemy – no, Asiara reminded herself, it was her own army – stood, it would be impossible to tell how many warriors the Sersiphi held in reserve there. They would be wary of fully confronting the flanking forces for fear that doing so would leave them open to another flanking maneuver from what might be another sizeable force. Dathaka had arranged the field of battle so that it would look like she was coaxing them into a trap, and the Annol’s fear of that illusionary trap would prevent them from actually pressing their very real advantage.
But that still left the other flaw in the plan. There was no way that the small army standing behind Asiara would be able to withstand the full might of the other army’s strongest warriors. That battle would be a slaughter and, once it was over, the Sersiphi would fall.
As if punctuating this thought, Asiara heard horns coming from the opposing army. And then, the steady sound of marching. The Annol army – her army – was on the move.
Bending to Dathaka’s will, Asiara raised her arm above her head – for the first time, she was aware that she was holding her swords, Phyxilir and Finisher, in her hands, and this knowledge made her feel more powerful, more commanding, and more aroused. If she could control her breath, she would have let out a long and wailing moan.
With Phyxiler in the air, she signaled to the forces behind her to wait. And as she waited, she watched as the large army came closer.
As it drew near, it was clear that the Sersiphi were doomed. The generals of the enemy (her generals, she fought to remind herself) clearly understood the importance of neutralizing this central force quickly. Spread amongst the regimens of some of their best warriors were three powerful magi. Asiara recognized them, Islin, Calean, and Mertol. Islin was an ancient magi, immensely powerful and with the experience of many battles behind him. Mertol was slightly younger, but had a reputation for being ruthless in battle. Calean was quite young – a magi of prodigious abilities, he had risen astonishingly quickly through the ranks. Against these three, the Sersiphi stood little chance. Asiara scanned the battle field for Partheon, but he was nowhere to be found. He was probably directing everything from behind the lines, as a sensible leader would. Not everyone enjoyed the fray as much as she did.
As the army grew very near, Asiara felt the familiar flush of adrenaline flood her body. This time, though, that adrenaline was accompanied by a hot, intense sexual need – a wave of desire so powerful that only a Goddess could withstand it without her knees buckling. Asiara’s strategic, military brain was annihilated by that sudden burst of desire. In just a few moments, Dathaka had reduced her mind to a quivering, lust starved observer. The battle was about to begin, and Asiara could only watch as her own body, still wrapped in the tense, life-stealing embrace of the snake, launched into action.
As Asiara came into contact with the first ranks, she could see the spearmen at the head of the column stare at her with wild, confused eyes. Whether it was because they were seeing their own leader, or because she was naked except for a snake, or both, was beyond Asiara’s lust filled comprehension, but soon she couldn’t think of them at all. As her sword cut the throat of the nearest soldier with a single precise slash, Asiara felt her erotic agony grow in intensity. When another spearman fell, she grew still more enraptured by her need for release.
She had no control over her lust filled body as Dathaka used her physical form to cut through the soldiers with a devastating and swift ease – instead, she could only revel in the carnage as each death drove her closer and closer to a new sexual peak that she had never yet experienced. In addition to Dathaka’s power giving her body a capacity for deadly skill with her swords that even she, the most feared warrior in the land, could never hope to match on her own, the Goddess’s presence within her also opened her body to new levels of erotic rapture. She had already reached a level of arousal that would normally have been sufficient to push her over the orgasmic edge whether she was willing to let go or not, but now her body was able to go higher, to become even more saturated with fiery, mind-altering need.
And so she continued to cut through the army before her in a state of uncontrolled and overwhelming desire. Each new death seemed to cause an explosion in her sex and Asiara could do nothing but succumb to Dathaka’s power over her body as her mind was reduced to a quivering, thoughtless vessel of pleasure again and again and again. For the death toll was astounding. Asiara’s body, under Dathaka’s control, was a killing machine, moving with blinding speed and frightening effectiveness, she was cutting a wide gouge straight down the middle of the army’s – her army’s – strongest column of warriors. The soldiers, quickly forgetting that she was formerly their leader, tried in vain to attack her, but with Dathaka’s power controlling her limbs, she easily danced through their weapons while slicing through their armor, running them through on her swords, cutting their throats, or dismembering them with an ease that was, for Asiara, as shocking as it was erotic.
In the dim remnants of her awareness, she was aware of Dathaka’s response to her other critique of the Sersiphi’s battle plan – the middle group of warriors would be able to survive much longer, because leading them was a one-woman harbinger of annihilation, and she was easily turning the tide of this battle. Asiara felt her body spiraling further and further into the oblivion of a state of arousal without release that her mind could no longer comprehend as her fighting prowess brought about the demise of her own army.
But then, just as she was about to reach the point that even her Goddess-inhabited body could no longer resist orgasm, a new sensation cleared her mind ever so slightly. An intense heat – not one of arousal, but of actual fire, descended upon her, burning her skin and sending a pain racing through her that gave her mind a new level of focus. As her vision cleared from the flames that had engulfed her, she looked forward to see Islin, the ancient magi.
The charred earth around Asiara was evidence of the fireball that he had just hurled at her, but Asiara saw that no part of her showed even the slightest evidence of his magical assault. The ancient spell caster began to chant again, and this time a torrent of lightening coursed through Asiara’s body, once again filling her with agony so intense that she wanted to scream. But she was not in control of her body, and Dathaka seemed unaffected by the intense electricity dancing through her.
When the electric maelstrom was finished, Asiara saw Islin looking at her in astonishment. He was panting with the effort of these two spells, and, for the first time since she had known him, Asiara something new in his eyes: fear. And that fear, even more so than the electricity that had just raced through her, penetrated Asiara’s body, recharging her arousal, and taking it still higher than it had previously been. Asiara felt her own arm raise Phyxilir above her head and then bring it down in a sweeping arc that cut through the magical protections that Islin had put around himself. The sword swept effortlessly through the air and, at the height of its arc, passed through the skin of one of the realm’s most powerful magi, beheading him and bringing the mighty sorcerer to his end.
As his head toppled from his body, the intensity of Asiara’s need burst upon her as her body achieved climax. Her mind failed to comprehend the immensity of the sensation that wracked her physical form, and she lost all ability to know the world around her as her only focus, the only thing that mattered or even existed to her, was soul filling, rapturous pleasure. She could feel her sex squirting her secretions on the blood stained battle fields and her skin burning with an inner heat more dangerous and intense than the fires that had encompassed her moments before. The intensity of her orgasm was so strong that Asiara seemed to be swept away by it, even departing the physical body that the Goddess was making such effective and erotic use of. Asiara, lacking any control of her body, was able to focus every part of her mind on the pleasure she was feeling, and she simply became that pleasure – there was nothing else for her to think about, nothing else to know of, nothing else to be.
How long she remained in this state she had no idea, but eventually, the level of her arousal diminished enough for her to realize that her climax had passed. It had not, however, dampened her sexual need, nor had it prevented Dathaka from continuing to make use of her sweat covered body. As Asiara’s awareness of things other than climax slowly, shakily returned, she saw that in the time that she had been lost in her erotic rapture, Dathaka had continued to cut her way through the enemy forces, and now she had reached a second mage: Mertol.
Mertol wasted no time. He began chanting and, within moments, skeletons seemed to rip themselves out of the ground around Asiara’s possessed body. Dathaka set her body in motion and cut these down in moments. They had accomplished their real task, though, which was to slow her down just enough for Mertol to cast a more powerful spell – one that brought forth several powerful demons to do his bidding.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t account for a key flaw in his plan. Though these demons were bound to him and had to do his bidding, they quickly recognized that the body before them, though human, housed a deity that they were not at liberty to attack. They formed a defensive perimeter around Mertol, but made no aggressive motions. The concentration required for Mertol maintain to control of the demons, though, was substantial, so he was now stuck motionless, fighting to control the very charges that he had conjured in the hopes that they would aid him. In this focused state, he never saw the short sword that flew through the air and imbedded itself in his chest – sending the demons instantly back to their home plane of existence, and forcing his soul to find another one.
Asiara saw the sword that she threw as it sped through the air, passing between the protective demons, but she never saw Mertol’s lifeless body reach the ground. Once again, the death of so powerful a foe brought her body and mind to climax, and all she was aware of were stars as the pleasure cascaded over her. She lost all awareness of what was happening around her as sexual release claimed her once again, trapping her mind in bondage as tight as the snake wrapped around her body. She felt as if she were spinning, and in every direction was more stimulation; more sensation driving her to a sensual frenzy.
After several agonizingly ecstatic moments, she finally regained a modicum of ability to think about more than just her overwhelming pleasure. Her body still pulsed with a need greater than any she had felt prior to becoming Dathaka’s puppet, but she was able to make some sense of the world around her again.
As she did so, she quickly realized that Dathaka had wasted no time: she had made her way straight to Calean, the final magi, and the last hope of the opposing army to drive back the Sersiphi. Asiara knew that this would most likely be the end of the Annol forces that she had led these past few months. If Mertol and Islin couldn’t withstand Dathaka’s onslaught, then Calean stood little chance. After all, he was far younger and less experienced than the other magi.
As Asiara saw her body close in on him, she could see that he was finishing casting a spell. But nothing happened. As Dathaka closed the final meters between them, both of Asiara’s swords raised and ready to strike, Asiara heard him start on a second spell. Just as both blades swiped through the air, aiming to cut his body into three pieces, he vanished. Dathaka quickly recovered from the momentum of the swing and turned Asiara’s body around.
Sure enough, Calean stood behind her, chanting once again. The spell that he cast took a remarkably small amount of time, especially considering the power that must have lain behind it, for as soon as he had finished, a horrendous roar occurred to Asiara’s left. Dathaka turned her head to look, and Asiara saw a huge dragon looking down upon them both, it’s talons ready to slice her to ribbons, and its neck recoiling in the way that meant it was preparing to breath its deadly breath.
It only took Asiara a moment to realize how pointless this spell had been – the dragon was clearly an illusion. But as Dathaka turned her head back towards the young mage, Asiara saw that this simple illusion had already served its purpose. The spell Calean had been casting earlier – the one that seemed to have no effect – had, in fact, conjured a small magical dart. Then, when Asiara’s head turned to look at the illusory dragon, he had thrown that dart at the exposed and vulnerable snake head still propped next to Asiara’s right ear.
The dart struck the snake right between the eyes, piercing the skin and killing it instantly. As the reptile died, its muscles went limp, and Asiara felt her lungs practically erupt as she loudly took in a deep and frantic gasp of sweet, life-giving air. She dropped both of her swords and she could feel Dathaka’s spirit simultaneously being driven out of her body. The snake fell from her naked body and Asiara dropped to her knees – but it was Asiara that was dropping to her knees – not Dathaka; her body was her own once again. She could feel Dathaka’s presence around her, trying desperately to reenter her, to trap her mind once again, to make her body her puppet. But as Asiara continued to inhale, Dathaka’s hold on her became weaker and weaker until, eventually, with her lungs full of life once again, Asiara felt the Goddess dissipate into the breeze that swept across the battlefield.
Her lungs finally full, Asiara exhaled. With this exhale came the longest, most desperate moan that she had ever voiced in her life. Though Dathaka’s spirit was gone, Asiara still didn’t feel completely in control of her body as the sudden overwhelming need that struck her compelled her to immediately begin stroking her wet sex with one hand while the other kneaded furiously at her breasts, pinching the sensitive nipples that, despite all of her previous climaxes, had yet to receive any attention.
In mere moments, Asiara was doubled over as yet another climax threatened to rip her body and her consciousness apart. With the Goddess no longer inside of her, her body was no longer capable of withstanding the level of arousal that she was achieving. For several moments, the pleasure pushed her past sanity, and she was nothing more than a helpless, thrashing, quaking body in the middle of a furious battlefield. Each touch on her nipples spurred her deeper and deeper into erotic oblivion, and the hand at her sex pulled climax after climax out of her.
The intensity of the pleasure brought Asiara to a dangerous precipice. At the very moment that she regained control of her body and freed her mind from the clutches of Dathaka, she also achieved such an immensity of pleasure that it threatened to warp her mind permanently, robbing her of her ability to ever again think of anything other than her sexual needs. But Asiara was too strong for that. She focused on the pleasure, but refused to allow it to completely consume her. Instead, she used it, channeling the divine levels of pleasure that Dathaka had allowed her, using it to infuse her body with the Goddess’s power, even though the Goddess’s spirit was no longer within her.
As her vision slowly cleared, Asiara could feel both the arousal and the strength of Dathaka’s former presence flowing through her. She opened her eyes to see Calean kneeling over her sweat soaked body, his hand held high keeping a magical barrier around them both, protecting them from the fighting happening around them.
Asiara did her best to pull herself together. She stood, taking her swords back into her hands. She was still shaky from the intensity of the climaxes she had just endured, and arousal still coursed through her. The exhaustion that resulted from everything that happened to her also permeated her body. But she had been touched by a Goddess, and she had refused to let all of the resulting power to flee from her as Dathaka was driven out of her body. Ignoring her own nakedness, she raced beyond the boundaries of Calean’s magical protection and entered the fray of battle. As she did so, she called a single command back to the mage.
“Tell the factions on either side to engage the enemy at full force. They don’t actually have any more forces waiting to flank us. Attack! Attack!”
And with that, she put her swords in motion.
Never before had Asiara felt so in control of her body. And never before had her body felt so strong; so fast; and so deadly. She was perhaps not quite as strong as she had been when Dathaka had controlled her, but her abilities prior to the Goddess’s possession, though formidable, were a mere shade of what she was now capable of. Moving through the battlefield, she began cutting down the Sersiphi as though they were mere practice dummies. Here soldiers, recognizing that she was free of the Goddess’s control, began to rally around her, making her the human point to a military blade that cut through the opposition with ease.
Meanwhile, the Sersiphi, now robbed of their Goddess’s leadership and skill on the battlefield, began to panic. Many of their warriors turned and ran, and those that remained were cut down easily by the well-trained forces of Asiara’s army. It took only a few minutes for her troops to finish off all resistance, and as they did so, she scanned the other parts of the battle to see how they were going.
They were going quite well. No longer worried about a flanking maneuver, the factions on either side of the battle had charged the Sersiphi forces, and made short work of them. Asiara scanned the battle field, trying desperately to find the auburn haired woman who had been behind everything that had happened to her. She was happy to have turned the tide of battle, but more than anything, she wanted to find that woman. To make her pay. To make her suffer. But she was nowhere to be found.
Though, frustrated at not being able to find her captor, Asiara nonetheless felt a slight thrill at the sight before her. After coming dangerously close to defeat, Asiara’s forces, with their leader back at their head, had quickly turned the tide of battle and slaughtered the Sersiphi army. Their rebellion was over. The battle was won.
But it had come at a heavy cost. Though the end of the battle had been a dramatic victory, the beginning had taken a far greater toll on Asiara’s forces than she had ever anticipated – and many of the losses had come via her own blades. Scanning her forces, she suddenly worried that her Queen would be upset – after all, this was supposed to have been a routine bit of policing, not an epic battle. Soon, they were supposed to invade the Southern Kingdom, but that would be a difficult fight in the best of times. With a slightly depleted army, that task would be much more difficult.
As she scanned what was left of her forces, the fatigue that had been slowly settling on her body caught up to her in a rush.
With her army cheering her return, as well as their victory, Asiara felt her body give way. She fell to one knee, then slowly keeled over, feinting as her mind and body could take no more…
Champion of the Kingdom
The Betrayer
by Clare de Luna
Chapter 4
When she awoke, she was back in her own tent, in the army’s camp. She was lying in her makeshift bed, which was nothing more than a pile of animal skins, the last of which was draped over her. She could sense that her body had been washed, and her dark curls were no longer in the disheveled state that they had been in during the battle.
It was night, and Asiara could only see by the light of two candles that had been set at the foot of her bed. She could hear sounds of subdued revelry as the surviving members of the army celebrated their victory, yet mourned the loss of so many of their comrades. The first thought that crossed her mind was, once again, the extent of their losses – far more than ever should have happened.
What would the Queen think? Asiara shuddered to think of it. Still, sh
