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Eternal Slave

Chapter 21

Naked and practically glowing for her content, Delilah reclined on her white sofa, shapely body at ease, eyes closed and smiling as Araton fed her grapes and poured her wine. He was on his knees before her, a dazzling god in the white light of Heaven, naked but for a golden skirt, behind the fabric of which his great erection was poking. But he, like a dutiful salve, was silent in his suffering, only blushing and apologizing whenever his erection should brush her. He was taller than any angel she'd ever seen, more handsome and muscular than any earthbound stallion, and he was all hers. Like a doting puppy, he allowed her to fit a leash and collar around his neck, and on his knees before her, he would wait eagerly as she slid her thighs apart, then he would ravage her sex like a slobbery dog until she had climaxed. He did it whenever she told him, however she told him. In the bath, on the beach. His palace was a world unto itself, sequestered away from the endless white towers of Heaven, where his sons lived.

As Araton knelt before her, eagerly massaging her ankles and calves, Delilah smirked to herself, glancing around at paradise and thinking Daphne was a fool for giving this up. She was going to live forever, and Araton was going to serve her - at least until he got bored and asked for another wife. But even then, she would live in luxury, forever young and forever beautiful. And all she had to do in exchange was bear his children - which was little to nothing of a price. Already, she'd born ten sons, who were off scampering around Heaven while their brothers cared for them. She didn't even have to raise them, she just had to have them, which was painless and effortless here in this world of beauty and light. What was more, having children did nothing to permanently change her body. For about six days, she would endure a swollen belly, only to give birth and wake up the next day with her waist delightfully narrow, her breasts swollen and high. She couldn't decide if it was Araton's magic or not and decided not to care. Wine and fruit, the blue sea, the white sand, and Araton's hard body against hers . . . that was her world now, and she couldn't have asked for more. Not even had she stayed in Aramora and become queen.

Delilah didn't care that Araton was her ancestor, that she was related to him, or that he looked so much like her grandfather. She only cared that she was free, that she was pampered, and that she was adored. Araton was on his knees for her every day, fumbling to please her, doing magic tricks that made her smile and rubbing his nose against hers in his goofy way. It reminded her a bit of Captain Riley, and she was content. More than content. She was undeniably happy. And to keep that happiness, all she had to do was make sure Araton never found out she was his descendant. She didn't know what he would do then. Probably kill her, not unlike he killed the Daughters of Heaven.

Delilah smiled when Araton, silently questioning, smoothed his large paws up her thighs. He wanted to go down on her again, wanted to taste her until she erupted, wanted to watch her breasts heaving as she climaxed, her cheeks blushing, her sex tensing. She lay with her arm behind her head, her golden mane a curly mass around her, and pretended to consider, smiling to herself as he waited. She could feel the burn of his anticipation like a hot light, and as he stared at her eagerly, she absently reached over and fondled the long, hard horn that stood erect from his head. He shivered. He always liked that. He told her once that having his horn touched was the same as having his cock touched.

"Please, beauteous wife," Araton softly begged, and bowing his head, he trailed kisses up her thighs.

Delilah sat up and touched his head to stop him. She smiled as she looked at him, at his gentle, happy eyes. Their wedding ceremony had been beautiful, and all his other wives had been there, so glowing and happy for them. She smoothed her paw along his cheek and to the wisp of white hair that dangled from his chin. "Where's that golden cock?" she whispered. "I want to watch you take it today."

Araton's white cheeks blushed crimson, but he crawled on paws and knees like an obedient slave to the small table at the foot of the divan. On the table was a decanter of wine, stained wineglasses, and a long, golden cock which Delilah had used any number of times, sometimes on herself as she forced Araton to watch, other times on him. Today, she wanted to use it on him.

Araton picked the golden cock up in his teeth and crawled back to Delilah where she sat on the couch, serenely waiting. She took the cock from his mouth and gestured for him to lift his wrists. He obeyed almost eagerly, watching breathlessly as she snapped the gold manacles on. Wrists bound, he put his paws behind his head and stood, facing away from her. Sitting on the divan, she pulled the laces on his skirt until it had dropped away around his ankles, revealing his muscular backside, the cheeks of which were still a little red and punished that from that morning's spanking. Or was it last night? It was always day in Heaven. Delilah never knew what time it was.

Delilah strained to put the golden cock in her mouth and sucked on it slowly, dragging her lips along the length of it, spitting on it, then sucking again. Her wet mouth made so much noise that Araton grunted, and she saw his heavy pink penis swell before lifting upright. She reached around as she sucked the golden cock and fondled him. He was so large, her little paw could barely get around his shaft, and he throbbed in her grasp, heaving with veins, moaning softly as she pleasured the length of him.

When the golden cock was wet enough, she stopped to pry his cheek away with one paw, and with the other, she slowly pushed the golden cock, hard and cold, into the squirming pink knot that was his anus. She watched with delight as his buttocks twitched against the slow intrusion, listened with her ears forward as he grunted and strained to take the toy in. It was very large, larger than him, and when she reached around to fondling him again, she could feel he had swelled thicker.

"Oh, god," he whispered, completely unaware - it seemed - of the irony. Glancing up, she saw his eyes were hooded and his cheeks blushing. She slowly began to drive the golden cock in and out, making careful love to him with it, while at the same time, stroking him toward a flinching climax. His panting became desperate, until he was grimacing. "Don't stop!" he begged whenever she would pause.

Delilah let the strokes build up, faster and faster, plunging the toy deeper and deeper between his flexing buttocks, until his cock flinched in her paw, and she saw his white seed shoot against the bright blue sky. Breathless and sagging, Araton sagged to his knees, manacled wrists still behind his head, and knelt there, red-faced and helpless. Eventually, he lifted his eyes and looked at her, helplessly in love. The golden cock was still hanging from his ass.

Smirking, Delilah slowly spread her thighs. He perked up at once, ears pricking forward, and his hungry eyes went immediately to her pink sex. She took his leash, slowly pulling him near, and he shuffled forward on his knees, bound wrists behind his head, muscular belly trembling with anticipation. She pulled the leash until his face was between her thighs, and he was about to start licking when she slapped him lightly on the nose and he sheepishly stopped.

"If that golden cock falls out of your ass," Delilah warned, "then you have to stop."

Araton nodded eagerly and obediently tightened buttocks, holding the enormous toy in place with a grimace and a blush that made her smile. "Yes, my goddess," he whispered breathlessly.

"Good boy," sang Delilah, who then tugged on the god's leash, drawing his mouth to her sex. As Araton licked eager at her clit, she melted against the cushions and smiled, her golden mane ruffling in the breeze.

The End