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Punished (# 1 Wrath of the Frost Queen – Tentacle erotica)
Punished (# 1 Wrath of the Frost Queen – Tentacle erotica)
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The sign reads:
Don't pick the fruit.
It couldn't be more clear. But the Frost Queen finds herself punishing thieves time and time again. Her nerves are worn thin with it, and she has every intention of making the most recent intruder work for his keep. He'll make a nice tentacle vine for her garden with obviously gratifying built in uses.
Heat level: 5 out of 5
Length: Extreme quickie – 2 erotic scenes / approx 8 ½ paperback-sized pages
Inside: light bdsm, domination, oral sex, cunnilingus, transformation, shifting, shifter, girl on boy, girl on girl, female ejaculation, monster sex, tentacle sex, paranormal sex, paranormal erotica, tentacles, tentacles sex, tentacle erotica, voyeurism, masturbation, tentacle fellatio, cream pie, curves, transformation, Alpha female
Excerpt:
“Put the berry down,' the voice of the Frost Queen boomed.
The overlarge berry slipped from the intruder's fingers instantly, his digits still dripping with its juice. He swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he set eyes on the obvious royal standing mere steps from him. He'd been so consumed with the berry vine, he didn't hear her approach.
“I-I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. It just looked so...”
“Delectable?”
The Frost Queen's mouth formed a frown.
“A garden is hardly worth having if its fruit fails to grace the tongue. If you were so enamored of horticulture, you would have done well to grow your own.”
“I. Yes. I should look into that. Thank you,” he replied timidly.
“What is your name?” The Queen demanded.
“Wes.”
“Come stand before me,” the wiry queen commanded, and she was so self-assured, despite her small stature, he found he couldn't refuse her. It was like being a student again and having a stern teacher order him to straighten his posture at the chalkboard.
The Queen looked him over knowingly, obviously assessing him. Wes felt self-conscious sensing her evaluate his worth.
“You owe me for the fruit you've stolen,” she told him. The thief didn't know what to make of the threat in her tone, and his eyes widened her hand reached up to guide him to his knees before her. Without a word, he understood her will and lifted her gauzy skirt. He shivered slightly in the cold, surprised at how unaffected she seemed to be in such an insubstantial gown.
His mind didn't belabor the point when his eyes fell onto the exaggerated curves on her slight frame beneath the lower half of her royal dressing. The slight patch of peach fuzz hair covering the inverted triangle before him drew his eyes almost instantly. He found himself pulled to it as if by magnetism, wanting to split the mound and cover it with his mouth and tongue. His nature hardened, and he gave into his impulses without reservation.
He would pay for his trespass.
He would pay willingly.
Don't pick the fruit.
It couldn't be more clear. But the Frost Queen finds herself punishing thieves time and time again. Her nerves are worn thin with it, and she has every intention of making the most recent intruder work for his keep. He'll make a nice tentacle vine for her garden with obviously gratifying built in uses.
Heat level: 5 out of 5
Length: Extreme quickie – 2 erotic scenes / approx 8 ½ paperback-sized pages
Inside: light bdsm, domination, oral sex, cunnilingus, transformation, shifting, shifter, girl on boy, girl on girl, female ejaculation, monster sex, tentacle sex, paranormal sex, paranormal erotica, tentacles, tentacles sex, tentacle erotica, voyeurism, masturbation, tentacle fellatio, cream pie, curves, transformation, Alpha female
Excerpt:
“Put the berry down,' the voice of the Frost Queen boomed.
The overlarge berry slipped from the intruder's fingers instantly, his digits still dripping with its juice. He swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he set eyes on the obvious royal standing mere steps from him. He'd been so consumed with the berry vine, he didn't hear her approach.
“I-I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. It just looked so...”
“Delectable?”
The Frost Queen's mouth formed a frown.
“A garden is hardly worth having if its fruit fails to grace the tongue. If you were so enamored of horticulture, you would have done well to grow your own.”
“I. Yes. I should look into that. Thank you,” he replied timidly.
“What is your name?” The Queen demanded.
“Wes.”
“Come stand before me,” the wiry queen commanded, and she was so self-assured, despite her small stature, he found he couldn't refuse her. It was like being a student again and having a stern teacher order him to straighten his posture at the chalkboard.
The Queen looked him over knowingly, obviously assessing him. Wes felt self-conscious sensing her evaluate his worth.
“You owe me for the fruit you've stolen,” she told him. The thief didn't know what to make of the threat in her tone, and his eyes widened her hand reached up to guide him to his knees before her. Without a word, he understood her will and lifted her gauzy skirt. He shivered slightly in the cold, surprised at how unaffected she seemed to be in such an insubstantial gown.
His mind didn't belabor the point when his eyes fell onto the exaggerated curves on her slight frame beneath the lower half of her royal dressing. The slight patch of peach fuzz hair covering the inverted triangle before him drew his eyes almost instantly. He found himself pulled to it as if by magnetism, wanting to split the mound and cover it with his mouth and tongue. His nature hardened, and he gave into his impulses without reservation.
He would pay for his trespass.
He would pay willingly.
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