The Red

"Not that,” she said, her cheeks pinking like her name. "Anything but that.”

She pressed close to him and tilted her face up, closing her eyes. She was the perfect picture of a martyr. Martyr and satyr. Satyr and Martyr. Silly fools, all of them. Malcolm kissed his pink pet on the lips and the girls in blue and yellow clapped wildly and cheered. Mona did too, for no reason she could name other than it seemed to be part of the game. The kiss continued, deepening. Malcolm bent the girl backwards in his lust. He brought his large right hand to her breast and groped it over her gown.

The girls in blue and yellow booed, but the girl in pink didn’t seem to mind. Malcolm’s erection pressed between her thighs and was swathed in pink fabric. Red against pink. He yanked the bodice of the girl’s dress down, baring her breast. He latched onto the nipple, sucking it into his mouth as the girl trapped in his grasp gave a little cry of pleasure and fear.

"He’s got her now,” the girl in yellow said. "No getting her out.”

"I told her to stay at home today,” the blue girl said. "She never listens.”

"I never listen either,” Mona said, and that made the blue and yellow girls laugh so hard they almost fell over. They took up their ribbons again and skipped in a circle around Malcolm and the pink girl. He had her dress pushed down to her waist now, so that she was naked from the hips up. Her breasts were small and pale and her nipples pink as her gown, and her face was awash in ecstasy as Malcolm licked her little nipples, his hands huge on her tiny waist.

"He’s not going to let her go until she gives in,” the girl in blue said, taking Mona by the hands and making a bridge with their arms. "Don’t you think?”

"I’m sure he’ll let her go eventually,” Mona said. "Won’t he?”

"But she won’t be a water nymph when he’s done with her,” the girl in yellow said. "She’ll be a wet nymph!”

Even Malcolm stopped fondling Pinky long enough to roar with laughter. They all laughed and the dancing resumed. They whirled and spun and turned and bowed and it seemed Mona would never tire of it. And in the midst of them, Malcolm tore the blonde girl’s pink gown from her body. He turned her around in his arms to take her from behind.

"I knew it,” the girl in yellow said as she emerged from a spin. "You can’t say I didn’t warn her.”

Malcolm took his cock in hand and guided it into the girl’s pink hole. All the other girls, Mona too, clapped and cheered as Malcolm pulled his captured nymph’s hips back against him and rutted into her rapidly. Her wrists were still tied in front of her and she held them to her chest. She gave little sounds of pleasure and protests—oh’s and no’s and oh’s again.

It was a sin to watch and yet impossible to look away. The three free girls huddled together and pointed and giggled behind their hands. Mona felt light as a child, free as a kite. It felt like she’d stumbled into someone else’s erotic dream and since she was there, she might as well play along.

The pink girl’s face turned red as Malcolm took her even harder from behind. He bent his knees to lower himself a few inches, all the better to ram her deep. His hips undulated obscenely. It seemed his legs were far hairier than Mona remembered and his ears more pointed than ever before. She was dizzy, indeed, from all the laughing and spinning, and she already knew Malcolm could disguise himself in mysterious ways. He made an animalistic sound as he pumped into the girl from behind and the girl let out a girlish whimper. Mona grew wet watching, terribly wet, and she was already eager for her turn with the satyr.

Malcolm’s muscles were tight all over his body. He was all sweating skin and straining sinew, organ and bone. He yanked the girl in his grip back against his cock one last time. She cried out in her climax and he grunted in his.

The girl slid off his organ and fell onto the floor on her back.

"Pinky!” the girl in yellow cried. She dropped to her knees at the pink girl’s side and took the ribbons from her wrist. The girl in blue lifted the pink girl’s pale hand to her lips and kissed it.

"Are you there?” the girl in blue asked.

Pinky opened her eyes and raised her head. "He got me.” She gave a pitiful fake cough like a child trying to get out of school for the day.

"In the heart?” the yellow girl asked, her eyes wide with wonder and concern.

"Is my heart between my legs?” the girl, Pinky, asked.

The girls shook their heads.

"Then that’s not where he got me!” cried Pinky.

They all laughed again—even Pinky, who was attempting to play dead.

"Baby Blue…” Pinky said through barely parted lips. Her arm lay over her eyes.

"Yes, Pinky?” Baby Blue asked.

"Avenge me…” Pinky said. Her arm fell to the floor and she was gone…for three seconds, until she giggled again.

"I’ll get him,” Baby Blue said, standing up. "He’ll never see me coming.”

"Why not?” said the girl in yellow. "Or are you planning on covering his eyes when you come?”

Malcolm crouched behind his throne, pretending to cower as the nymphs plotted their revenge. His dark eyes shifted left and right like he was waiting for an imminent incoming attack from enemies unknown.

"You go left,” the girl in yellow said to Mona. "I’ll go right. If he tries to run from Baby Blue, one of us can catch him.”

"What do we do with him when we catch him?” Mona asked.

The yellow-gowned nymph shook her head. "I haven’t thought that far ahead. Let’s just get him. One, two, three!”

The three of them raced to the throne.

Mona couldn’t wait to get her hands on Malcolm, but he was too fast for her—he spun out of her grasp. He was nearly caught by Baby Blue, but he feinted to the right. Just as the girl in yellow was about to catch him with her ribbon, he clasped her wrist and scooped her up into his arms.

"Oh no!” Baby Blue cried. "He’s captured Sunshine!”

"That’s impressive,” Pinky said from the floor.

"Because she’s so fast?” Baby Blue asked.

"Because it’s the middle of the night!”

Baby Blue laughed so hard, Mona had to hold her up. Meanwhile, Malcolm had Sunshine, the girl in the yellow dress, on his lap in the throne again. As she wiggled and struggled, he ripped her dress down to her waist—if Mona had to guess, she’d say the wiggling and the struggling did more harm than good. It certainly made it easier for Malcolm to rip her dress, which may or may not have been Sunshine’s plan all along. Malcolm pulled her bare back against his naked chest and groped her breasts as he bounced her on his knee.

"Should we try to rescue her?” Baby Blue asked Mona.

"Don’t try anything,” Sunshine said, her voice quavering as Malcolm bounced her. "You’ll only make it worse for me.”

"I think she likes it right where she is,” Mona whispered.

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