Threesomed 2(10)

By: New Dawning Books






* * * *





Muca marched down the road until she reached Derp's castle. This castle shall soon belong to my Master, and my life will become a feast. Her heart raced at the thought of how she would no longer scrounge for scraps or sleep outside in the rain, shivering in the cold. With her magic, cunning, and sheer force of will, she would outwit the ogre at his own game. After many months of observation, she knew his pride would be his downfall.

She slipped into the castle through an open window, a favored way for cats to enter a home uninvited, and pattered across the stone floor until she reached the sumptuous dining room with a huge oak table that would soon bear her Master's rich and hearty meals. Derp slumped in a chair, ripping at a turkey leg with big, yellow teeth.

She stood as tall as her lithe form allowed, catching Derp's surprised eye. She shifted her weight to one hip to give him a teasing look at her as her tail twitched with excitement.

"Good day, dear ogre," she said in her oiliest, smoothest voice. She tossed a dried cow patty on his clean rug. He reacted exactly the way she expected he would. He jumped to his feet, knocking over the chair, face beet red with rage.

At that moment, she had him under her spell, and she would win her game of wills. She grinned, baring her sharp teeth "You've abused the people of the village long enough. My Master, the Marquis of Carabas, will steal your lands. I'm here to make that happen."

With a swell of schadenfreude, she knew she would succeed.





The End





If you enjoyed this Twisted Fairytale you may enjoy the others





Hunters' Game

A Short Vampire Story



by

Denysé Bridger

Copyright © 2012 Denysé Bridger





Chapter One


The hunt begins…





Cliantha Alexandros loved the rain, especially when the fury of thunder and sizzle of lightning tore the sky to shreds. She glanced upward, wishing the torrent of the storm would be unleashed. The heavy darkness in the sky had threatened rain all day, but now, late in the evening, the promise remained unfulfilled.

But it was there. Like so many other threats lurking within the shadows. Threats like you, her inner voice whispered, making her smile. The storm-grey above her deepened, and a gust of wind shredded chunks of white cloud before tossing them into the emerging maelstrom. Fragments of cloud lost their airborne wildness, drifted, spiraling downward to nestle her in a shroud of fog.

Mortal fear tainted the air in storms, and the terror lit a frenzy in her veins. Her skin tingled, her body vibrated with awakened urgency. Her mood was quicksilver, dangerous, and she was eager to indulge all her desires.

Enveloped in the night-cooling, rain-laden air, Cliantha walked, the sharp, staccato click of her stiletto heels tapping out each step. She smiled, soaking in all that surrounded her, both the physical and the internal nuances that caressed her heightened mental awareness.

Spring loomed nearby, but the chill of winter dominated the air, keeping it crisp and biting. The streets of downtown Toronto were always busy at this time. People rushed through the surreal daylight of glowing street-lights, caught up in the importance of their fleeting lives. Inwardly, she mocked them, the doomed prey among unknown predators.

Among the multitude of faces and bodies, she stood out. Her superiority came as naturally as breathing, something she accepted without humility. Emerging from the swaths of cottony, damp mist, minion's thoughts washed over her, their unspoken words of praise amusing and familiar. Men gazed at her with longing, women with combined envy and pride for the magnificent creature who embodied the beauty of their gender.

Snaring the gaze of a staring male, she forged a passing bond with his mind. Laughing, she relished a vision of herself through his eyes for fleeting instants. Blue-black hair, jet-dark eyes, long legs glimpsed with each step she made.

Cultivated arrogance shrouded her in mystery and sensual allure. She released her hold on the stranger's thoughts.

Several young men eyed her, and she read their calculations as each decided if they were, indeed, brave enough to approach. Her laughter as her gaze swept over each of them in turn was all the deterrent they needed.

She knew what she wanted tonight, and her senses resonated with his presence. Somewhere in this crowded mélange, Demetri deVerieux was lying in wait, his deviant desires beckoning to her with invisible fingers. In this alone, was he like their maker, Stavros, with his ability to lure her into amoral desires until all that existed was her need to find release.

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