The Red(28)

On his throne Malcolm watched her intently. Mona would have imagined him done for the night after mounting three young nymphs in a row. But he'd become his character. He was a satyr through and through. His cock, which seemed larger than ever, jutted out, red and proud, from a thatch of thick dark hair. Sunshine knelt at his feet, a large white bowl on the floor and a clay pitcher of water in her hand. She poured the water slowly over Malcolm's organ, using her free hand to wash it with the water.

He was being purified for Mona, and she for him.

Pinky and Baby Blue drew her into in a wide cream-colored basin on the floor. Though she wasn't tired-she had danced and frolicked for what must have been two hours-she was a little overheated. She welcomed the cool clear water they poured over her from her neck to her knees. Pinky poured and Baby Blue splashed the water over her breasts and down her back, between her legs and behind her knees. Then she held out her hands and Pinky filled them with water that Mona drank greedily. She held out her hands again and Pinky filled them. This time, Mona splashed the cold water on her face.

Baby Blue intoned a prayer. "We dedicate this girl into the service of whoever it is or whatever it is we want to service on that particular day."

"We're very pious," Pinky said.

"Pious, yes," Malcolm said. "I shall put her on her knees in piety. Won't I?"

"Will you?" Sunshine asked, still kneeling at his feet.

"I will," he said. "Bring her to me."

"She doesn't want to come to you," Baby Blue said.

"Yes, I do," Mona said.

Pinky glared at her.

"Oh, right," Mona said. "No, I don't want to go to him. Anything but that."

"That's what I thought," Baby Blue said. "But you have to. It's our way."

Pinky and Baby Blue escorted her to Malcolm's throne, all five paces.

"Whew." Pinky ran her hand across her forehead. "That was a journey. She put up a fight the entire way."

"Sit and rest a while," Malcolm said to Pinky and Baby Blue. "You've done well. I'll take her from here."

"He'll probably take her from there as well," Sunshine said, gesturing at Mona's sex. Malcolm reached down and casually tugged Sunshine's nipple. "I deserved that."

"You did," Baby Blue said, and Malcolm did the same to her. "I didn't deserve that," she said, "but I shall bear the injustice stoically."




 

 

Malcolm tugged her nipple again and she yelped.

"Perhaps not very stoically," Baby Blue said.

"Silence, nymphs," Malcolm said. "I must see if Moan-a is worthy of being numbered among you."

"How may I serve you, Sir Satyr?" Mona asked, swept up in the game once more. She could hardly keep the smile off her face.

"You may kneel at my feet and kiss the royal scepter."

"What's a scepter?" Pinky whispered into Sunshine's ear.

"It's a prick," Sunshine said.

"It's his prick, Moona," Pinky said. "That's what he wants you to kiss."

"I figured as much," Mona said. She knelt on the floor, her knees sinking into the soft pile of yellow, pink, and blue gauze left behind from the carnage Malcolm had done to the girls' dresses. She took Malcolm's scepter into her hands and rested her elbows on his furry thighs. It felt so real, it all did. The thick hair on his legs and the points of his ears, the warm animal scent of his body. The music didn't sound like it came from a radio or a record. She swore she even saw fireflies flashing in and among the trees of the sacred grove they played in. And the three girls were all impossibly lovely-their youthful ageless faces, their tender breasts, their hairless bodies. They were watercolor nymphs in a watercolor world.

Had all the dancing and spinning and laughing made her dizzy? Was she dreaming?

Perhaps, but she didn't care. She was far too happy in the dream to wake up now.

She pressed a long kiss onto the head of the satyr's cock. Then she opened her mouth and slid the tip between her lips. She tasted his musky flesh, a dash of salt, and craved more of it. Mona ran her hands up his thighs and wrapped her arms around his hips as she sucked the shaft deep into her mouth. Vaguely she heard the nymphs giggling their sweet musical giggles as Mona devoured their satyr lord's prick with her mouth, sucking it all the way to the back of her throat. She ought to have gagged on it, but didn't. She was caught up in the moment, in the fantasy world he'd created for them. She felt she could do anything, even fly if she wanted to-though she would turn down the offer of wings to have her satyr inside her.

"A beautiful new draping for my lap," Malcolm said, as he gathered her hair in his hands, lifted it, and arrayed it all around him so that it draped off his thighs. "Finer than silk, more shimmering than satin, and sucks me off better than any linen ever tried."