Threesomed 2 Read online

  New Dawning International Bookfair

  presents

  ~ Threesomed 2~

  The 3rd Anniversary Celebratory Anthology of

  A Collection of Ménage and Multiple Partner Stories

  By

  Elizabeth Black – PURR

  Denysè Bridger – Hunters' Game

  Dee Dawning – Felicity Jones – Rendezvous

  V A Gyna – Swap 2

  La Marchesa – SLUT

  Kayden McLeod – Serpentine Tongue

  Giselle Renarde – Birthday Gift

  Kayden McLeod – The Induction

  Dee Dawning – Seducing the Geek

  Editors

  Penelope Barber

  Dee Dawning

  Copyright © 2013 New Dawning International Bookfair

  Published by New Dawning Bookfair at Smashwords

  Purr

  A Twisted Fairytale

  By

  Elizabeth Black

  Copyright © 2011 Elizabeth Black

  Dreaming of the ogre's coming misfortune put a bounce in Muca's step. Ah, schadenfreude! The summer breeze blew blossoms in the air that floated around her head like dancers in a minuet. Birdsong floated in the trees along the lane. The sun played peek-a-boo behind gossamer clouds that dispersed in the afternoon sky like wisps of smoke, brushing her shoulders like a warm kiss.

  As she strolled along, she wondered how her nefarious plan would play out with the villagers. She waved at a tall man whose skin burnished in the hot sun as he shielded his eyes from the brightness.

  "Holå, cat!" He called. "Didn't we see you yesterday?"

  "Yes you did. I was on my way to see the king. I went bearing gifts from the Marquis of Carabas."

  "I heard of your Marquis of Carabas but I've never seen hide nor hair of him. How did the king like his gifts?"

  "The rabbit was fat and the partridges were juicy. Perfect introductions for my Master!" Her grin was so broad she felt her muscles in her jaw tighten. Lying came so easy to her with her years of practice. Being a cat, subterfuge was her way of life, and her musings about the Marquis of Carabas were no different. Of course, there was no Marquis of Carabas. Her Master was a lowly and poor cobbler. With her help, she knew he was destined for great fortune. Her creation of the Marquis of Carabas would bring him the riches both of them needed to get by in this rough world.

  "So tell me of your Marquis. Why haven't we met him?"

  "He's new in these parts, and that's why I've come to you." Muca watched as young women in the field snipped tender leaves with their lips and dropped the leaves into baskets hanging around their necks. She had never seen such a means of harvesting, and the curiosity was killing her. "What on earth are they doing?"

  "They are harvesting tea leaves for a special crop Derp the ogre wants to deliver to neighboring villages. He specially chose the women himself. They must be virgins with breasts at least the size of a C-cup. Derp insists the women have shapely curves to appease the gods. Their hands must never touch the leaves, only their lips. This tea is an elixir of the gods, and fairies originally harvested it. Now, only shapely virgins may harvest the tea with their lips in order to maintain the magical taste and effect."

  I seriously doubt there's a virgin amongst them. Muca stared at the women who puttered about the field, bent over at the waist. Full breasts strained their bodices, and Muca felt a stirring in her core. Their cramped posture made her back hurt the longer she watched them. She shook her head in astonishment over the absurdity of the spectacle.

  "That's the most asinine thing I've ever seen. Do you really believe what that ogre tells you?"

  "No, but what can we do? He owns the land. We farm any way he demands, otherwise we'll be homeless."

  "How would you like to farm for a new master? One who will take your needs into consideration and make your lives much more comfortable?"

  "Who might that be?'

  "The Marquis of Carabas, of course!" She reached into her knapsack and pulled out a few paper packets and several cuttings planted in soil. "Take these seeds and cuttings. Plant them now, in your best soil. The cuttings are of the most succulent Italian basil, grown in the most fruitful fields outside Tuscany. The seeds are the rare Budjo rosemary, native to the Orient. Plant them now. They will grow very quickly, and you may split the plants to make more. The flowers also bear seeds."

  She held her jaw firm and tried not to blink too much, lest the farmer catch her lying. She held her breath until he accepted her offer. He didn't need to know she found the basil growing wild in her favorite meadow. Nor did she reveal the word "budjo" was Romany for "swindle". Not that she'd ever swindle these farmers. They were too important to her ultimate plan of establishing her Master, a poor cobbler, as a wealthy landowner in the village.

  No, the rosemary was merely plain Italian rosemary grown from seeds found in her Master's home. The only one she intended to swindle was Derp the ogre. She had to get him out of the way to make room for her Master, soon to be known all over the village as the Marquis of Carabas.

  "Why thank you, cat. Please feel free to stop by the village Inn before you leave town for our Harvest Festival. There will be dancing, drinking, and … " His grin hinted at untold delights Muca could only imagine. "… other fine activities."

  "I shall take you up on your offer, kind sir. I have only one favor to ask of you."

  "Name it."

  "When the king drives by tomorrow and asks who owns these lands, tell him the Marquis of Carabas."

  The farmer placed his hands on his hips, and grinned at Muca. "I have no idea what you're planning, my good friend, but if the end result is getting all of us out from under Derp's thumb, we will do what you say."

  "Thank you very much then, and enjoy the new herbs. I shall see you at the Inn shortly."

  She wandered further down the dirt road, watching a butterfly flit along a breeze ahead of her. Intrigued by the farmer's comments, she wondered what delights awaited her at the Inn?

  In moments, she came upon a farmer, his wife, and their baby. Black hair hung in his face masking his bright green eyes just as when they first met. The farmer straightened, watching her saunter down the road. If only she could convince him of her latest plan! Her life – and that of her Master, a poor cobbler – depended on it.

  She stood walked like a human, a long and lithe spotted tawny cat wearing thigh high boots and nothing else.

  She was surprised the farmer hadn't tried to drown her for being a witch's familiar the first time he laid eyes on her.

  "Good afternoon, cat! How went your trip to the king?"

  She smiled, happy he recognized her. She gave the farmer a confident smile, eager to continue her plan. She strode to him, and gave him a deep, elegant bow. "Very well, my friend. He enjoyed the gifts of my Master, the Marquis of Carabas." The farmer's wife nursed her infant, her full breasts spilling out from beneath her flowing cotton blouse. Such a hypnotic sight! An urge overwhelmed her to take a suck herself. She had a weakness for soft, enormous breasts, especially ones filled with milk. Her groin warmed, and shifted her stance to take the pressure from her arousal. "You have a fine infant there. How old is he?"

  "Six months, and my wife has lost all her baby weight. Those breasts are especially nice, particularly late at night when it's cold outside." He smiled, walked to Muca, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I see you're as enraptured as I am of her."

  "She is indeed a fine woman, sir."

  "Stop gossiping about me, you two." His wife gave Muca a saucy look as she switched the baby from one breast to the other, giving Muca a momentary glimpse of a brown nipple. Her nipples grow erect at the beautiful sight.

  The farmer laughed and slapped Muca on the back, making her tip forward, near
ly losing her balance. "Tell me more about this Marquis of Carabas. Why have we never seen him in these parts?"

  "He's new to this region. My Marquis is a very busy man. He has recently returned from China after hunting down some rare herbs and exotic textiles. A sultan introduced him to his youngest daughter, and although my Marquis was flattered, he simply couldn't bring himself to take her as his bride. Just this past month, an Italian countess courted him! Italy is far too distant a land for his taste, since he prefers Eastern Europe, so he had to let her down easy. He has toured many kingdoms from here to the sea, and he likes this area best. As a matter of fact, he's looking for land here, and he would love to own the fields you harvest."

  "Little chance of that happening. I doubt Derp would give up his lands without a fight." He waved an arm towards the field, and for the first time Muca saw a checkerboard pattern built into the soy field. "Derp made us deface our soy field for his own entertainment."

  "What on earth is that?" Muca eyed up the field, trying to make sense of what she saw. She expected life-sized chess piece bishops and knights to take their places on the squares.

  "It's a game board for Derp's latest form of entertainment that costs us a fortune." He threw a towel to the ground. His brows knitted together, face contorted with rage and frustration. "It's for a game Derp calls "Cow Patty Checkers". He demands everyone in town place bets on where his prized steer will drop a load, and we always lose. Derp has stolen much money from us with this dreadful game."

  "What's "Cow Patty Checkers"?"

  "Everyone places bets on which block the steer will grace with its shit. Then, Derp releases the animal onto the field. We wait while it takes its good old time wandering from block to block, munching on clover and swatting flies with its tail. Then, it squats over a square and takes a huge dump – always on the square Derp has chosen. We are robbed like this at least two or three times each month."

  "That's more asinine than the women in the other field harvesting tea leaves with their mouths!"

  He tossed his arms up in a gesture of futility.

  Muca's rage stirred for the man whose spirited chatter grew on her. The more he talked, the more she liked him, not to mention his physique aroused her in ways she hadn't felt in a long time. Add her amorous stirrings for his supple wife, and the two of them captivated Muca's heart. She didn't enjoy seeing people she liked feeling so cornered.

  "Ah, yes! Another one of Derp's brilliant ideas to keep us humiliated prisoners of his whims. I suspect Derp does something to the field over the square he chooses, like sprinkling the steer's favorite grain so it heads right for it." Muca's heart lurched for the poor man, but his lovely wife distracted her attention as she nursed her infant.

  "Derp is horrid," the woman said. "He won't leave us alone. We lock our doors at night now since we hear him wandering around the grounds late at night. It's terrifying."

  Outraged at the news, as Muca concentrated on their story, she grew more intent up on helping them rid themselves of Derp's rule forever.

  "If I were able to prove it, Derp would probably kill me anyway, so there's no point in stopping him. We can't make enough of a living to gain any independence here because Derp finds ways of taking our money as well as our land, our women, and anything else he wants. I'm surprised I've been able to keep my wife away from him, although he's expressed interest."

  The more he talked, the more Muca knew what she must do. Not only would she improve her Master's standard of living with her great plan, she wanted to help this farmer and his wife. "What if the Marquis of Carabas came to own these lands? Would you enjoy his rule more than that of the ogre?"

  "Anyone would be better than that ogre! He steals from us. Burns down our homes if our village gets too big. Kidnaps our women for his personal use. We're too scattered and poor to stand up to his abuse."

  "Leave that to me. All you need to do is tell the King when he drives by tomorrow that these lands are owned by the Marquis of Carabas. I'll take care of the rest."

  "What's in it for us, cat?"

  "A better way of life, a fair and compassionate land owner, and comfort you've never felt before. Does all that meet your qualifications?"

  "It certainly does. You have a deal! How can we ever repay you?"

  "Invite me to your Harvest Festival. I would love to spend more time with all of you. And I'll show you that I'm perfectly capable of partying with the best of you in ways you can't imagine!" Her gaze fell upon his buxom wife who gently placed her sleeping infant in a pram. The hunger didn't get past the woman's husband, who smiled his approval.

  "You must stop by. The Festival is going on now. Feel free to head to the Inn. We'll be there shortly."

  * * * *

  When Muca entered the Inn, the smell of roasted lamb and minty rosemary overwhelmed her. A group of men stood in a corner drinking what she suspected was homemade ale. She longed for a mug! How long had it been since she tasted the strong hops and thirst-quenching joy of a homemade brew?

  "Welcome, cat! Enjoy the best food and ale for many miles!"

  "Thank you. I shall, but first, I have a gift for all of you from the Marquis of Carabas." She reached into her knapsack and pulled out a handful of gold coins. She tossed them into the air. Whoops of joy arose from parched lips as each man and woman scrambled for the riches.

  "So your Marquis wishes to court us?" The farmer who oversaw the women harvesting tealeaves with their lips spoke quickly as he gathered coins to stuff his pockets. "We never turn down gold, but I'm curious… and a bit suspicious."

  She didn't want him on her bad side so she thought fast. "I don't blame you. My Master is very sorry he can't be here to court you himself, but he's away in China. He sent me in his place, and I fear I'm not doing such a wonderful job convincing you of his sincerity. So I wanted to give you the gold he instructed me to give you to." She wouldn't tell him those coins actually came from the King, who in a fit of generosity awarded her a sack-full following her second gift of partridges. One coin was much more than these farmers saw in a year. In a month? Such riches impressed the farmers! A few teasers went over as well as she expected they would.

  "You didn't have to shower us with the coins. We are a proud people."

  "I'm very sorry about that. I simply got caught up in the moment."

  The farmer smiled and patted Muca on top of her head. "Think nothing of it, my friend. It's understandable. I can speak for my people when I say we are grateful for the new wealth."

  "You're very welcome, and I do apologize about my behavior. Sometimes being a cat gets the better of me. I tend to act on impulse."

  "Think nothing of it." He patted the banquet table. "Please hop up here so I may look directly in your eyes when I talk to you. I'd feel better that way."

  Muca leapt with ease onto the table and stretched out on her back, legs crossed and tail flicking back and forth. "Ah, this is comfortable. Walking tired me out and my feet hurt. Thank you for letting me rest here. And yes, I like being on equal footing with you, as well. So tell me more about this ogre? I have the impression he's a real bear."

  The farmer rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw, making the muscles in his face pulse. Muca saw years of frustration and rage on the man's face, and her heart lurched at his agony. A strong urge to take him in her arms and comfort him overwhelmed her, but she had better ideas to avenge him. She already knew what Derp was like, but she suspected the farmer needed to talk about him - to get the despair off his chest.

  "'Bear doesn't begin to describe it. We have worked these lands for generations for a lovely family that treated us well, but as happens sometimes, that family came onto hard times and lost all its wealth. Derp, seeing an opportunity, bought the lands for a song. He has treated us like slaves ever since. This has been going on for several decades, back when my father farmed these lands. We can't leave because we have long-established roots here. Where would we go? Start over? With what?"

  He wring his hands until the knuckle
s turned white. "Derp has taken everything from us. He kidnaps our most beautiful women and keeps them for himself in his castle. He forces us into humiliating activities with him. You've seen two – the tea harvesting and the cow patty game. He's done worse. When any of us displeased him, for even the most mundane reasons, he's dragged those people into the square in the middle of winter and doused them with ice water. Two people died. He only laughed about it." He buried his face in his hands. Muca could tell he was crying because his shoulders shook with the weight of his exhaustion and grief. The sight of his pain brought tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat.

  She twisted her body until she sat on the table facing him. She placed one paw on his arm, stroking him gently until he looked at her. "I and my Master can help you, if you let us. We can get you away from that ogre, once and for all. Please let us help you."

  "What makes you so special?" The farmer asked. "I hear your Marquis of Carabas is a powerful man, but is he powerful enough to overcome a sociopathic and sadistic monster? Why should we believe you?"

  "Because I have magic the ogre can't compete with."

  "Show us your magic."

  "Only if you give me a pint."

  "You're on!"

  As he poured her ale, she straightened her back, vertebrae popping as her body stretched and lengthened. Magic grew her boots to match her long, slender legs. By the time she stood at her human height of five-foot-nine, her leather boots reached the middle of her thighs. Four sets of teats on her belly retreated whilst the pair at the top rounded out to a mouth-watering D cup, capped with dark rosy nipples. Tawny fur receded into her soft, cream-colored skin whilst the fur on her head grew until it fell to her ass. Thick, full auburn hair tossed about her head and fell in her lovely face, which she blew away with a teasing puff from her lips. The farmer pouring her ale forgot about her drink as he gaped at her transformation. Muca laughed as the brew overflowed her pint and spill on the floor.