Warning: PODCAST now included! It’s true. See below. (I have no shame)

An original story from Liquid Silver Books author, Darragha Foster

Please read Chapters One, Two, Three, Four, and Five if you haven’t already.

Prince Hlini, or Lin, for short, is a man’s man. He enjoys riding, archery and killing animals in days-long hunts with his courtiers. He is also royal pain in the ass—literally. His voyeuristic and sodomite penchants have kept him much too busy to find a suitable wife in which to sprout his noble seed—because it’s safer to make love to page boys and stable-hands than it is to possibly produce a child who will someday poison you to usurp your throne. Prince Lin also suffers from a tad bit of paranoia. There is one woman whose tremendous beauty (and delicious potatoes) has caught his eye…Sigyn of the garden corner. But greeting her from horseback is about as close as he’s ever been.

Sigyn is the daughter of the village witch and the village undertaker. She is of the lowest caste in the kingdom, for she works on her knees in the dirt, mixing in compost created by her father from the burning of the kingdom’s dead. Still…she has the most successful vegetable stall in the realm. People come from far and wide to buy her fruit and veg. With strength, beauty and a height most women will never see, Sigyn could have many suitors—all lower class, uneducated dirt-farmers. She wants more from life. She wants to be king.

Eventide… a gratis lectori salutem (free to the readers) e-tale by Darragha Foster about that magic time between the end of day and the beginning of night. Beware the mist, the call of the geese and horny wood-wives.

Warning: If you’re familiar with Darragha’s work, you know this story will contain sex, violence, and all-around… quirkiness. If you’re not familiar with Darragha’s work…

And now the sixth chapter of Eventide…

Chapter Six

As the first light touched the forest floor, raspy voices and heavy footfalls awakened Sigyn in her hidey-hole. She peered out, hoping her scent was not too ripe less she be detected. Their masks cast aside, she could clearly see the prince’s captors were indeed, ogres. Female ogres by the looks of their pendulous breasts and dimpled backsides. The larger of the two turned toward the cave and recited a poem, “Sing, my geese, with strains so deep that Lin, entranced, may fall asleep.”

Sigyn pulled back, locking the words to memory. Sing, my geese, with strains so deep that Lin, entranced, may fall asleep. They are keeping him bewitched while they have their lascivious ways with him.

The ogresses strolled into the forest. Not knowing their routine, Sigyn stole quickly into their cave to survey the area before their return.

On a bed carved with staves and runes that she could not read, Sigyn found Prince Hlini. Curled up into a fetal position, both hands clasping his privates, he mewed and sobbed like a small child in his sleep. A far cry from the warrior on horseback that bid her good day every morning. He looked thin and weak.

“My prince, do wake up,” she whispered.

At the sound of her voice he curled up tighter.

She shoved him. “Do be a good little prince and wake up. Now!”

“Please, no more,” he wept through his spell-induced sleep.

“Damn,” Sigyn said. She moved closer to the intricate carvings on the bed, trying to memorize them. She had a good memory. If she could study the markings, she was certain she could decipher them.

A sharp poke on her backside alarmed her so greatly she nearly leapt atop the prince’s bed. An old gray goose—a very stealthy beggar at that—had clipped her with her beak. “Shoo!” Sigyn said, swatting the goose away. “Go now or I will ring your neck and eat your for supper.”

The goose shook its head.

“You understand me?” Sigyn asked.

The goose nodded.

Sigyn climbed off the bed to kneel before the goose. “Are you bewitched? A prisoner of the ogresses?”

Again, the goose nodded.

“Can you help me wake the prince?” Sigyn asked.

The goose flapped her large wings and shook her head.

“It calls for a rhyme, doesn’t it? I heard the rhyme used to sedate the prince. Perhaps if I hide I’ll hear the antidote.”

The goose nodded upward.

Sigyn turned and noted a long ledge above the living area of the cave. “Yes. Perfect. I’ll hide there.” She reached out and stroked the goose’s long throat. “There’s a good goose. Thank you.”

The goose shuddered and shifted into a thousand pin-points of twinkling lights. For a very brief moment, a luscious female form appeared. White haired with skin like ebony and eyes a startling lavender blue. Just as quickly, the image faded.

“You are beautiful,” Sigyn cried. “Why have they imprisoned you here?”

The enchanted goose raised her long neck and emitted a long, melodic moan. A gentle mist filled the chamber. Prince Hlini trashed about the bed in obvious fright.

“You can summon the elements. I see. You trap their prey in a thick fog. Beware the fog. Beware the call of the goose. Yes. I understand.” Sigyn turned to face the overhang. “I must find a way up there. Thank you for your help.”

Sigyn followed the cave wall to a rocky outcropping she thought might make a good stairway to the ledge. She picked up a small ball of homemade cheese and some crusty bread stored in the back of the cave and nearly devoured them. Then she remembered how the single drop of cider had affected her—and was continuing to affect her—and replaced the food stuffs. Better to go hungry than become enchanted or beholding to randy ogresses.

Sigyn climbed to the ledge with great care so as not to disturb the living area below. There, she waited. But not for too long.

The ogresses arrived, heavily laden with a young buck. It appeared as though they had tackled the poor beastie and bitten through his throat to dispatch him.

“Say the words, Ama,” Angr said, trussing the deer up to expose its belly.

Ama stabbed the deer, disemboweling it. “Meat for man. Blood for beasts. Partake you in an enchanted feast.”

Angr reached out and grabbed the entrails as they spilled onto the cave floor. Immediately, hundreds of flies swarmed around her. She dropped the guts into a pot and licked the blood from her hands. “Oh, he’s a sweet young buck. Very tasty.”

Ama smiled. “Share the heart with me, sister?” She withdrew her blade. The deer’s steaming heart emerged from the cavity.

“Oh, yes. Please,” Angr replied.

Ama placed the heart between her teeth and offered the free end to her sister.

They devoured the organ greedily until their mouths met in the middle.

Sigyn forced the sensation to vomit away. Disgusting creatures these ogres.

“Let’s awaken our pet, shall we?” Ama asked. “The warm blood of this potent animal has left me wanting.”

“We must convince him to eat something before he starves to death and then what shall we do? It is so seldom we are able to ensnare such a fine specimen,” Angr replied. “But yes, let’s awaken him. Goose!”

The grey goose shivered and called out the fog. Ama giggled manically. “Sing, my goose, with cheer and glee, that Hlini from sleep aroused may be.”

Prince Hlini awoke with a start, well aware of what was about to befall him.

“My love! How did you rest?” Angr asked.

“Release me. My father will pay handsomely for my return,” Hlini replied.

“Prince Lin, will you have something to eat or drink today?” Ama asked.

“Never,” Lin replied. “I’ll starve before succumbing to your black arts.”

Angr shrugged. “Will you marry us? Take two wives home with you?”

“Never,” Lin replied. “Never will I allow daughter of the Beast to rule my kingdom at my side.”

“Well, then,” Ama replied, “It looks like its just going to be sex again today.”

Lin shrunk back against the wood frame of the bed. “No, please. No more.”

“Most young men would relish the opportunity to schtupp two beautiful women for hours every day,” Angr said. She reached for her mask.

“You are not beautiful women. The masks are an illusion that my body reacts to even when my mind clearly knows the difference,” Lin replied.

“Well, good for your body, because it’s my turn to go first,” Ama said, donning her mask.

The illusion of beauty—supple, sensual beauty enveloped the sisters. Ama crawled onto the bed. She lifted the tip of her mask to kiss Lin’s lips. Paralyzed with fright and the foreknowing of what was to come, he closed his eyes, and waited.

Ama Silver Mask slid up over Lin’s head until her illusion-perfect female regions were poised over the lips she’d just kissed. “The lips I kissed shall now kiss me,” she commanded.

Angr balked. “That doesn’t rhyme!”

Ama scornfully cast a black stare at her sister. “It doesn’t matter. He is already entranced.”

“Hpmf. Leave some for me. I’m going to eat,” Angr replied.

“As you wish, sister,” Ama replied.

She lowered herself onto Lin’s waggling tongue, smothering him with her ogress nether regions. “Oh, my prince…you are so skillful. Already I feel the heat of deep pleasures welling up within me. I want to…I want to climax with your member in my mouth.” Ama spun around and leaned forward. She lifted her mask to take Lin’s engorged member into her mouth. Riding his face and pumping his shaft into her throat, she became fully engaged in the act and forgot that it was the mask she needed to coerce the prince into coupling with her. Wanting to take as much of him into her wide mouth as she could, Ama cast aside her silver mask.

And transformed as she came.

Lin gagged as the foul odor of ogress flesh penetrated his nostrils and the once-supple thighs sandwiching his face became maggot fodder.

Angr shrieked, “Ama! Your mask! Put it back on! You’ll kill him! He’ll die of fright!”

Ama quickly donned her mask and leapt from the bed. “Oh, dear. Such an error I have made in the name of love, sister. Does he live?”

Angr approached the bed and slapped the still-hard penis jutting up from Lin’s groin. “Well, a part of him lives. Is his mind intact is the question.” She leaned over the shell-shocked prince and pried open his eyes. “His eyes react to light and I can feel shallow breaths. He lives. But do be more careful sister!”

“Yes, yes. Of course I shall. Please sister, while his member stands ready, do mount and take what you can from him. I fear he shall starve to death before we have had our fill.”

Angr climbed aboard and rode Lin for all he was worth, masturbating herself to orgasm atop him. “Well, that was reasonably unsatisfactory. He’ll be useless for the rest of the day now, thanks to you.”

“I was possessed by the moment, Angr. Do not blame me if another of our play things is wasting away!” Ama replied. “I like this one. I want to keep him for a long time. Let’s bring him food without enchanting it so that he can regain his strength.”

Angr shook her head. “If he regains his strength he will fight back. If he eats of our food, he will be ours forever. Is not the goal to marry well and live far away from this dank cave?”

“Yes, sister. I agree. Let’s go to the river and bathe. I feel tainted by my own poor choices,” Ama said.

“Yes, let’s.”

Stay tuned next week for Chapter Seven…

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Ripped from her LSB bio:

Darragha lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and daughter in a one-hundred-sixteen year old house continually under renovation. The house is haunted by the spirit of a Union Civil War-era soldier who seems to enjoy watching the construction every now and then. Someday, he may turn up as a character in one of Darragha’s stories.

This an original story given generously to us by Darragha Foster. DO NOT post any part of this story on your site without attribution to Darragha or a holla-back at her site. That’s not cool. Always give credit where credit is due, yo.

Note: Hey, other writer-types, do you want to contribute to The Serial? If so, email me and I’ll hook you up, yo. Peace!

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