Klaae

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PM2K
Always Remembered
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Klaae

Postby PM2K » Sun Aug 03, 2014 11:26 pm

A new story by me. Strong sexual content.

Klaae - by PM2K (2013-14)

"Stand still, dammit!"
Freya swings wildly with her broadsword, a move her target easily alludes with an amused giggle.
The red haired, green-eyed warrior, her whip-long braid slashing the dank swamp air in time with her sword, curses under her breath. The humidity is killer - struggling against it has left her tight muscular midriff, left bare to the elements, soaked with perspiration, like the rest of her....
She is wearing minimal armor to compensate. A silver colored breastplate protects her ample chest, while also exposing her cleavage. Matching chain mail drapes her hips, covered by a small strip of gray cloth. A heavy leather belt and scabbard hang around her narrow waist.
Her arms are bare, as are her legs, save for a pair of shin guards. Hobnailed sandals protect the soles of her long, elegant feet, which like her legs are getting mud spattered from the wet ground.
Her opponent is not human.
Green colored, with a yellow underside, the lamia swiftly slithers sideways, dodging Freya's attacks. Below her waist is the body of a serpent; above, a green skinned topless woman, her large breasts bouncing with each movement. Bare of hair, her face is feminine, with reptilian features. Twin fangs glisten within her mouth.
The creature tenses up, and Freya's innards freeze. She readies herself, and holds her sword back.
The creature hisses in triumph. This slip of a girl has shown nothing to indicate any useful skills as a swordswoman, despite the trappings of her sword and armor. Easy prey...
The lamia hisses again, then, using her coils as a spring, lunges forward....
Freya's expression changes. She smiles grimly, dropping the mask of uncertainty and fear, and in a single smooth motion drops to her right knee, bringing her sword forward. She leans behind its hilt, bracing herself for the impact.
The lamia has already crossed most of the distance between them before she notices what the warrior is doing, but too late to stop her forward momentum. With a horrendous shriek, the creature slams into the blade of the sword, which impales her neatly between the breasts. The impact pushes Freya backwards, her feet digging deep grooves into the muddy earth. She holds on grimly, using the sword to push the thing back, so its fangs couldn't touch her.
It thrashes about and squalls, but Freya holds on, twisting and pushing the sword deeper as she does so.
"Damn you... just... die!"
With a final push, she feels the sword crunch home. The lamia shudders violently, then goes limp, uttering a thick wet gurgling sound as it does so.
Collapsing onto the damp ground, Freya struggles to catch her breath. This is the second time she has cheated death since she entered this swampland, having almost becoming a meal of a slimeroot some hours before.
This isn't surprising. This territory is considered among the most dangerous on the fringes of the kingdom, where it is forbidden to violate its frontiers.
Where else, then, in this world without war, could a young warrior without family or clan go to prove her worth? What should she do? What quest?

The Eldrich Root. Rumored to have remarkable powers. It only grows in the depths of the dreaded Stygian swamps. No one has gone near there for generations. No one would dare. During the Demon Wars, it is said entire regiments which had entered it had been swallowed up, never to be heard from again...
But Freya dares. She is determined to do something no one had done before. Get the Eldrich Root. Figure out how to harness its power. Or sell it to someone who does know what to do with it.
In the process, earn a name for herself. Carve out a reputation as a fearless warrior. At the very least, earn a fistful of gold coin, something she is always short on.

Now, slogging through the swamplands, Freya is beginning to have doubts about her plan. Doom seems to have been stalking her from the start.
First, her horse was taken by a bloodroot, a terrible thorn covered vine which uses blood as nourishment. The thing had wrapped itself around the poor beast in moments, and it was only because her mount had bucked her off did she not become ensnared herself.
All she could do is put the horse out of its misery with a well placed bolt from her crossbow.
Forced to continue on foot, she had encountered a slimeroot, which took much of her equipment as she fought to escape the plant's terrible sticky tendrils... and then it was the lamia, which tested her abilities to their limits.
She had continued on, leaving the lamia behind, but as evening falls, she finds herself in the middle of a demon-filled swamp without food, shelter or any clear sense of direction.
The light fades, and Freya grimly walks on. She isn't optimistic about her chances of survival... the swamp is deadly enough in daylight, but at night...
Sweat streams off of her as she struggles forward. The solid ground has long since melted away beneath her feet, turning into a dark watery slurry of muck and mire. It is hard going, sloshing through the shin deep slime while pushing through the tangles of foliage, and as time passes, she finds herself fighting off feelings of despair.

As the sun hits the horizon, it lights a dark gray clearing ahead, where the trees and vines thin out. The ground appears before her eyes to be more solid mud than slop, and the sight of a half sunk log and tufts of green grass reenforces this sense. Beyond this is an expanse of black water, which laps at this low lying bank and spreads out silently among the endless groves of cypress trees stretching on ahead.
Freya feels a slight surge of hope, and wades quickly to shore. Maybe, once I rest there a bit, I can fashion a raft of some sort and float it out of here. It certainly is preferable to trying to endure the blackness of the swamp at night, thanks to that damn slimeroot taking her flint and kindling...
It is only when the mud beach eagerly swallows her feet and legs does she realize her mistake. Far from being solid, the low mound of mud is merely thicker... and as Freya struggles to free herself, she feels her feet sliding deeper into warm quaking clayslime.
The wet earth quivers and bubbles vigorously in response to her movements, seemingly eager to suck her under. Beneath her trapped legs, she detects nothing solid... instead, all she feels is slowly churning dark clay.
Thrashing in an effort to get free, Freya only manages to force herself deeper, and in no time the bog has swallowed her long muscular legs, and begins lapping at her crotch. Thick waves are formed by her movements, and slop out in all directions.
Looking around, Freya sees there is nothing nearby to grab onto - no branch, no vine - to pull herself free of the death trap, and as the tepid slime softly cups the bottom of her buttocks and continuing to creep upwards, she comes to the conclusion she's done for... A quick vision flashes through her mind of her vanishing out of sight in bottomless muck, with no one ever knowing or caring what her fate is...

Freya's grim thoughts are interrupted when she feels the clay bog shift strangely around her. She looks down in time to see the gray surface slowly ripple and heave, as if something was lazily moving beneath its surface...
Great... just great... she thinks, gripping her sword tightly, braced for whatever new horror might be set to lunge at her.
To her surprise, the mire suddenly stiffens, locking her legs and hips in place in a semisolid grip. She strains against the sensation, but finds she is locked into place.
I'm no longer sinking, she thinks, but doesn't take comfort in that.
Her suspicions are confirmed when the clay directly in front of her liquifies and swirls, then begins to bulge. With soft gurgling sounds, a column of wet clay flows upwards...
Freya watches as the clay takes shape. A swamp elemental... it must be... she thinks. It explains the way the claybog has been reacting, as if alive.
The clay column has now grown to a height similar to her own, and quickly begins to take on a feminine shape. Now melting and shifting from the top down, a head forms with a clay facsimile of long straight hair flowing off of it, cropped straight across an oval face, which has features of one from the Jade Kingdom. Almond eyes open, glowing a warn yellow. An average sized chin, well formed cheekbones, and narrow, yet not severely so, lips, which upturn into a slight smile.
Bare shoulders are next, then breasts, ample, round and firm. A narrow waist and well-rounded hips follow... and Freya feels her face redden as the sexual features of the clay woman form and become prominent.
Arms and hands cleave off gently from her sides, and flex. The legs are last; long, elegant and well toned, they end at the knees, merging smoothly with the bulk of the clay bog.
Reaching out with both arms, the clay woman slowly leans towards Freya, who leans back as far as her trapped lower section would permit her.
"Demon... stay back!" Freya says, lifting her sword. The creature tilts her head to the left, a bemused expression on her face.
"Now there's a brave warrior..."
The voice burbles warmly inside Freya's head. She stares at the gray colored clay woman, who smiles back at her in response. Then she continues to glide forward...

With a sharp cry, Freya strikes, thrusting her sword deep into the clay thing's midsection. The blade encounters little resistance, gliding through the gray clayflesh easily until the hilt smacks into it. The warrior's eyes widen as she sees the length of her blade protruding out the creature's back, and yet...
"Now that wasn't very friendly..." the claywoman's voice says, but her amused expression doesn't change. Instead, her eyes narrow, and her smile broadens.
Freya senses something amiss, but before she can react she is enveloped by a pair of feminine arms, glistening gray in color. They pin her arms against her sides, immobilizing her. A warm, sticky body presses firmly into her back, and she casts a glance at her captor.
Freya gasps in surprise as a familiar face stares back at her, a friendly smile on her lips.
"Yes, sister..." the creature utters, her voice filling Freya's mind with golden honey. "She does seem hostile... and, if I may add... quite rude..."
The first claywoman nods, even as her face breaks into a wide grin. She grips the sword, which is still impaling her, and with a twist, wrenches it out of Freya's grip. The creature extracts the blade from herself, the clay flesh oozing and flowing into the jagged hole in her midsection. In moments, she is examining the weapon, not a mark left on her.
"Yes, sister... quite rude..." she says, tossing the blade aside. With a wet slap, it vanishes into the muck. "She invades our lands, our home... kills our neighbor... and when we rise to greet her... she runs me through with a sword...."
Freya struggles to free herself, but to no avail. The claybog she is sunk into moves slowly in response, but is stiff, sealing her in place. The second claywoman's embrace is firm and tight, yet not crushing or uncomfortable. Still, she cannot get loose from it.
"Yes.... not very friendly at all..." the second voice purrs, its owner holding Freya a little closer. "But perhaps, she acted out of fear... after all, she doesn't know us... maybe she doesn't even know of the pact..."
The pact? The word seems to hold some weight, but Freya couldn't fathom it. Her puzzlement must have been plain on her face, for the clay creature in front of her tilts her head to the left side, as if in quick contemplation.
"No... she doesn't know... she really doesn't..." the first voice resonates as the claywoman glides forward. Freya flinches, bracing herself for what she expects would be a killing stroke. Instead, the creature surprises her by reaching out with her right hand to gently stroke the side of Freya's face.
She senses a giggle from the second one as the first smiles, and reaches with her left hand to grasp the other side of the red haired warrior's face.
Gods... her flesh... it's warm... it's so warm... she thinks, and then gasps as the claywoman moves forward to kiss her, hard, on the mouth.

Freya's eyes widen in response. As warm as her flesh has been, it is no match for the hot wetness of the claywoman's mouth, which sucks greedily on her own. She feels her tongue being drawn inside, and entwined with the other's, in a series of wet smacking sounds which make her knees wobble like water.
Freya is finding it hard to concentrate. Already, her will to resist is fading as she is devoured by the clay being. She responds to the kisses with increasing eagerness, her jaw relaxing to allow the claytongue greater access to her own, and is becoming aware of a sensitivity building in her breasts and a slippery heat between her legs.
What... what the hell is happening to me? she thinks, her rationality struggling to surface in the deepening sea of passion she finds herself floundering in.
The creature holding her from behind shudders against her, and Freya can hear her within her mind sighing with pleasure, even as the one in front continues to kiss her.
Then, with a sigh, the first being breaks contact, and leans back a bit so she can look directly into Freya's eyes. Her expression remains friendly, yet there is a definite sense of hunger behind it.
"Oh, yes.... much friendlier, Freya..."
The warrior starts upon the speaking of her name. It is echoed within her head by the second being in a voice the same, yet different.
Freya swallows hard, tasting the strange mix of mud and sweetness the creature's kiss left behind. Her heart hammers, and she is acutely aware of how wet she is becoming, and not just from the sweat glistening on her skin.
"Who... what..." she manages to stammer.
The clay women laugh together, a wind chime sound in her mind.
"Who? We are Klaae, dear, sweet Freya..." they say in unison.
"And... how..." Freya stammers, but swiftly realizes she doesn't need to ask.
"Oh... we know all about you now, Freya..." the first says, while the second giggles. The red head can feel the warmth of their clay bodies even through her chain mail, which is suddenly becoming uncomfortably heavy...
"But you... you don't know us, do you?" the one behind intones, her arms gliding downwards, clayfingers busy now at metal clasps and rawhide ties.
"You don't know us..." the one in front purrs, her hands drifting off of Freya's face to touch her shoulders, and the buckles and clips located there.
"But you will..."

Freya feels her armor and scraps of clothing slide off as if by magic, vanishing with thick splashes into the clay bog. Below the mud, she is startled to feel her shin guards and sandals being removed as well, their bindings gently loosened and pulled off her legs and feet as if by many unseen fingers. Before she can react, she is stripped bare, yet oddly feels no need to cover herself.
Must be some sort of enchantment, she thinks, as her generous sized breasts bob free of the falling armor, nipples stiff and twitching in the hot humid air. Her skin flushes not out embarrassment, but of desire, something she never would have imagined feeling when she first sank into this muddy trap.
That kiss... that damned amazing kiss... Freya can still feel her mouth tingle and burn from it. Sirens have nothing on that kiss...
She senses her captors sighing in unison, and can feel their eyes running over her form, sizing her up. The thought strangely excites her, and she shivers in anticipation.
Freya feels Klaae embrace her from behind, her clayflesh breasts firm and warm as they press tightly into her now bare back. Klaae in front grasps her breasts and squeezes them, forcing a hiss of breath out of her. Her legs tremble, and she can feel the wetness of her sex begin to trickle down her inner thighs.
"You know of the pact, dear Freya?" the Klaae in front says, continuing to fondle her, fingers leaving streaks of clay on her skin in their wake. The Klaae behind her is grinding herself into Freya, nuzzling her neck. Her left arm holds her firmly, while the right makes its way slowly down the front of her waist and belly, clayfingers probing past the thick tuft of red pubic hair...
Freya lets out a whimper and gnaws on her lower lip as hot jolts of pleasure begins to radiate through her body as the fingers find her pubic mound and begin to play with her clitoris. She can barely concentrate on the voice as she squirms helplessly in the grip of Klaae.
"The pact protects the peace..." the Klaae behind says, even as her twin draws in Freya's painfully hard left nipple into her mouth with a soggy slurp, tongue lashing it relentlessly. She shudders in place, gasping and moaning as the Klaaes begin to ravish her in earnest.
"The peace... protects us all..."

The words barely register on Freya, who is awash in sensation. She has had three lovers in her short lifetime, including one woman, but nothing approached what she is experiencing now, being sandwiched between two attractive swamp elementals...
Klaae in front releases her left breast to pounce on her right, while Klaae behind continues to stroke Freya's clitoris, pressing down firmly while moving its fingers in slow grinding clockwise circles. Her left hand has moved to fondle the left breast, still slick with muddy saliva, while her clayfingers roll the nipple between them.
"You understand... don't you, Freya?"
As she gasps and writhes to the claywomen's touches, in Freya's mind, the Klaaes' voices have become interchangeable. She attempts to think of a response to the question, but is unable to break away from the waves of pleasure battering her.
"The pact... forbids us all from intruding... on each others territory..."
"The pact..." Freya moans softly.
"Humans... and demons... leaving the other alone..."
"Alone..." The word is a groan, Freya's body shuddering with sensation.
"You cannot leave, dear Freya..." Klaae in front relaxes her grip, and Freya's sweat and clay slick breast wetly pops loose from her mouth. The warrior whimpers in response, finding herself longing to have the creature's hot mouth devour her once more.
"Never, ever..." Klaae in behind says, continuing to stroke and tease.
"Never?" she manages to gasp.
"Never..." Klaae in front intones, a tinge of sympathy evident in her tone. "You trespassed... invaded our domain in the swamps..."
"You killed... killed one of our residents...." Klaae behind sighs. "Slithia acted rashly... yes... but you still slew her..."
"I... did..." Freya says softly between ragged breaths. "I'm... I'm sorry...."
"You can never leave..." Klaae in front says firmly.
"You must pay the penalty..." Klaae behind states.
"Life for life... as the pact says... to keep the peace..." the Klaaes say in unison.

Freya shudders again. Held tight between the two, her mind wrestles with the reality that she is going to die. The elementals' words are heavy with truth. She knows now she has to die, to preserve the balance, to stop any tumble into war, to prevent a greater loss of life. Unbidden, tears begin to run down her cheeks even as her body continues to squirm with delight.
Freya senses a growing amusement between the Klaaes. At first, she wonders if killing her was part of this seduction all along, but that didn't feel right... and she then wonders how she could know that...
Klaae in front grasps her breasts again, as Klaae behind continues to concentrate on her sodden womanhood, and Freya stops wondering. She barely notices the look of affection on the elementals' faces.
"Sweet Freya... do not worry about such matters..." the one behind purrs.
"You are with us, now..." the one in front says, her hungry mouth once again drawing in her right nipple. This time, she alternates, sucking and biting them in turn. The redhead closes her eyes, deciding to just surrender to the pleasure...

Freya's climax has been building almost painfully slow, going from a simmer to a slow boil... Now it teeters on the delirious edge of exploding... Her groin aches sharply, feeling as if it is filled to overflowing with warm oil...
Oh... gods... I'm melting.... melting....
Crying out, her insides writhing and squeezing, Freya arches her back as she thrusts her pelvis forward, a stream of sex juices spraying across Klaae's hand and splashing her sister's clay belly. In her mind, she senses their pleasure in the result, even as her form is battered by waves of intense sensation, still held in place by the slowly quaking claybog.
Spent, Freya collapses against Klaae, who continues to hold her up while playing with her breasts and clitoris. The Klaae in front pulls back, and smiles warmly, looking over the sweat soaked warrior.
"I think... your hair needs to be set free..." her voice intones, and reaches around to undo Freya's braid.
The red head feels her sodden hair alight on her bare skin. It is long, falling down to below her shoulder blades.
"Much better..." the Klaae in front sighs, and moves forward to kiss her hard on the mouth again. Freya finds herself responding enthusiastically, and grasps the claywoman's face firmly with both hands as she thrusts her own tongue deeply inside her mouth, only then realizing the Klaae behind her has released her limbs.
"Oh... much better indeed..." the one behind sighs, and shifts her grip so she can grasp both of Freya's breasts, squeezing and kneading them hard enough to hurt, but it is good pain. On cue, the one in front, her jaw working Freya's to a chorus of deep, wet smacking sounds, holds the back of the adventurer's head firmly with her left, while her right glides downwards, tracing the human's curves...
Freya feels the clay around her begin to lose its firmness, and she starts to sink once more. The rest of her groin is consumed in the gently churning gray mire, as are the bottoms of her buttocks, just as Klaae's hand slips under.
Freya's eyes bulge and she gasps sharply inside Klaae's mouth as she feels three of Klaae's fingers ease inside her, while her thumb stretches to grind into her clitoris. She squirms as her trembling body eagerly accepts the digits, which are beginning to glide inside and out of her at a slow, deliberate pace.
Freya's body sways to the rhythm, her hips pumping against Klaae's hand, even as her twin keeps squeezing her clay smeared breasts from behind. She utters a series of groans and grunts as she feels the thick level of the bog ooze around her belly, then creep up to encircle her waist.

I'm going deeper... Freya thinks, even as she continues to deep kiss Klaae. With each passing moment, the clay swallows more of her writhing body, as the Klaaes continue to molest her. Below the surface, her feet feel nothing solid... not even a hint of a bottom within the swirling muck.
Klaae behind releases Freya's breasts, and she can feel the claywoman's body glide downwards over her back, her hands slick against her skin as they run down her sides.
She senses Klaae behind her slipping slowly under the quaking morass, but is distracted by Klaae in front's busy fingers. Below the bog, she feels arms encircle her legs, prying her thighs apart a little wider. The head of the Klaae who submerged pushes against her buttocks, and begins to probe her with a sharp tongue...
Klaae in front smiles at Freya's sudden reaction, and continues to tease and probe her womanhood, which has spread wide to welcome the attention. Thick creamy clay fills her with each thrust of Klaae's hand, and below, with the slow penetration of a tongue which feels like it is getting thicker the deeper it pushes inward.
Freya moans into Klaae's mouth as she feels her bowels and pussy slowly, and pleasurably, stretch. Surrounded by sensual clay, she is barely aware when the bottoms of her breasts press into the bog's surface.
Oh... gods... I'm being devoured... the clay is devouring me alive...
Below, it sucks on her toes, licks her belly, strokes and squeezes her thighs. She can sense the presence of Klaae below, but she has lost her form, dissolving into the body of the claybog until she is no longer separate of it, but part of it.
The living clay is everywhere at once, alive, pulsing and warm, and it is only now, as her breasts are finally swallowed, and the clay laps at her shoulders, that she realizes the truth.
In front, Klaae, shoulder deep as Freya is, stops kissing her to smile. It is a warm and welcoming one.
Freya finds herself smiling back, as she feels herself being drawn downwards. No voices inside speak. None are necessary.
When they are chin deep, Klaae kisses her again, deeply, on the mouth. The swordwoman feels her lover begin to melt under her lips. Returning to the clay which had birthed her.
Nose deep, Freya relaxes and lets her jaw drop open, permitting the thick, loving clay to flow freely inside. It floods her mouth and gushes down her throat and windpipe. She doesn't gag or sputter, save for the last of her breath being gently pressed out of her, which bubbles softly on the bog's surface.
The rest of Freya's head glides under easily, and she doesn't attempt to resist it. The clay oozes over her nose and eyes, her red hair floating briefly on its slowly churning surface before vanishing in a thick wet swirl, marked by a shallow dent.
A few more bubbles form and pop on the surface, which continues to roll and quaver for a time. Then, all is still again.

Below the surface... far below...
Time has ceased to have all meaning for Freya. She is aware... aware she is dead... no... not dead exactly. Changed. She is Freya, and yet she is not. What was once her body is far below the sucking surface of the claybog, and she somehow knows it disintegrating. This thought doesn't bother her. Not anymore.
She can feel Klaae embracing her. It is Klaae, and yet it is not. She senses a hint of who she was in the years before - Mei? Her companion - Pai...? - is there too, and Freya feels their warmth, and their joy, at having her join them at last.
She feels the same sense of joy, and eagerly moves to join them. For she knows she is not Freya, not Mei, not Pai, and not alone.
She is Klaae.

Lord Malaphus
Posts: 70
Joined: Wed Jul 16, 2014 2:28 am

Re: Klaae

Postby Lord Malaphus » Mon Aug 04, 2014 12:47 am

Wonderful! Fantasy type sinker stories are my favorite! I love how you have Freya slowly become one with the quickclay.
That's just like one of my own fave fantasies,only with a different gender,and it's leather not clay.
I love your way of describing the sensations overwhelming the heroine. This is an example of a sinker story that seems grim,but actually from our viewpoint,is quite rewarding!
Only a true sinker fetishist can write a story like this. Great work!
Beyond caring. My last straw is gone.

Stephymink
Posts: 177
Joined: Wed Apr 15, 2009 12:41 pm

Re: Klaae

Postby Stephymink » Mon Aug 04, 2014 4:29 am

That was mindblowing. Easily one of my favorites here. Wow.

cnelson566
Posts: 484
Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 11:55 pm

Re: Klaae

Postby cnelson566 » Mon Aug 04, 2014 9:42 pm

Agreed! Damn fine story,got me sweating!

cnelson566
Posts: 484
Joined: Thu Apr 16, 2009 11:55 pm

Re: Klaae

Postby cnelson566 » Mon Aug 04, 2014 9:42 pm

Agreed! Damn fine story,got me sweating!

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sinkwithme
Posts: 148
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Location: Connecticut

Re: Klaae

Postby sinkwithme » Sat Aug 09, 2014 2:24 pm

Thank you for this wonderful, sexy, erotic, mind-blowing story!

This fabulous line "did it" for me:
"Oh... gods... I'm being devoured... the clay is devouring me alive.." :shock:

Amazing!

Rusty Shackleford
Posts: 166
Joined: Wed Jul 08, 2009 3:06 am

Re: Klaae

Postby Rusty Shackleford » Sat Aug 09, 2014 3:20 pm

Excellent story, very creative!

Rusty

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PM2K
Always Remembered
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Joined: Wed Apr 15, 2009 6:14 pm
Location: Eastern Ontario

Re: Klaae

Postby PM2K » Sun Aug 10, 2014 6:18 pm

Thanks everyone for the kind comments! :D I think I rewrote this one a dozen times over a year before finishing it. Glad to know it connects with people. :)


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