Crimson Clockwork Pt. 01/03 - Sex Stories

Crimson Clockwork Pt. 01/03

... swear."

They parted before me.

After one last deep breath, I stepped past the priests and into the courtyard, which was empty save for a few more masked priests bearing alchemical torches.

I pushed through the battered wooden doors and into the main foyer of the manor. Upon a balcony, a few bards played their lutes and drums, singing about a princess frolicking with a forest spirit.

One of my favorites, in fact. That bard, whoever he was, clearly knew my tastes.

Perhaps I'd have a chance to reward him later in the evening.

Scattered about the half-decayed manor were twenty-three men and women. All were masked, some with feathered disguises akin to my own, others in elaborate cowls that obscured their entire faces. Some still wore their cloaks and robes, while others had stripped down to comfortable loungewear. A handful were already naked, sprawled out upon couches or relaxing upon cushions on the ground.

A few had even undertaken a premature start to the festivities. In the corner, a young woman knelt before a man wearing a fox-like mask, her head bobbing up and down. Upon one of the couches, two young men passed a woman back and forth between them, hungrily licking at her sex.

Masked priests stood on other balconies or in the corners of the room, waving censers and casting red mist through the room.

The room fell silent save for the soft groans and moans.

The young woman lifted her head up from her lover's stiff cock, her eyes flashing with ...

... surprise through the slits of her feathered mask.

"No need to halt on my account, darling!" I called out with a cheery wave, earning a bout of laughter from the guests.

As I sauntered towards the middle of the room, I took stock of the would-be offerings. The growing mist of red incense made it a bit hard to assess every single supplicant, but I licked my lips nonetheless. All of them looked to be relatively young, with none older than forty if I had to wager. All of them were attractive in one way or another, though the offerings were quite diverse. A hungry-eyed plump young woman, a wiry man with a prominent scar on his neck, a broad-shouldered fellow in a wolf-like mask, a thick-set fellow with an impressive bulge in his silken trousers...

And so many more. Twenty-three supplicants, all devoted to my desires on that night.

Thanks to the influence of the Crimson Night within the upper crust of Raveth society, there were quite possibly people I knew in attendance. The children of nobles and other city councilors, entrepreneurs, inventors, skyship captains...

My eager, nervous eyes flitted across the crowd. Given the masks and the haze of red mist, I failed to see anyone I recognized.

That was probably for the best.

As the eyes of my supplicants settled upon me, I sauntered across the room, occasionally brushing a red feather over the cheeks and necks of my would-be lovers. Not once, however, did I hand over one of those scarlet gifts.

One daring man in ...