The Hundred Husbands of Sand Saref (Patreon)

“You really fucked up this time.”

Sand was sure that she had. She was lying spread-eagle on one behemoth slab of a metal table, naked, wrists and ankles bound by silk ropes to the four corners of the surface. Which meant her evening had either gone way good or way bad.

Since she’d been aiming to be flying out to Basin City by now with the Eye of Armon, she’d call this way bad.

The ropes were loose, barely stretching. She could move, within reason, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

“But I tried really hard,” Sand cooed in her usual defiant voice—a mixture of scintillating come-on and unimpressed bravado. “Does that count for something?”

She felt a strange tickle running over her bare leg. Craning her neck, she managed to see Sartana standing over her. Holding an ostrich feather the length of a riding crop which she was working up and down Sand’s leg.

Given her own nudity, Sand usually would’ve given Sartana’s fashion sense the what-for, but she had no room to slight the other woman. Sand Seraf considered herself, and not unmodestly, the most beautiful woman there was. The height of femininity and the soul of sensuality. But if there were anyone who might give her a run for her money… without ending up in Denny’s harem… it was Sartana.

She had a mane of rich cinnamon hair, a sultry face, a body that was unbelievable. Sand half-thought she was out of her mind, seeing a hallucination, for there to be a physique that could matched hers. It was enough to make men fall out of their chairs when she walked by.

Sartana wore a silk shirt with no bra underneath it. Her breasts didn’t need one: modest, perfectly perky, sized absolutely right for her lissome body with just a hint of excess. The same as the jutting roundness of her ass.

Her firm breasts jiggled suggestively under the shiny cloth, the swollen imprint of her nipples easily apparent. When Sartana rolled her shoulders back, the buttons of her shirt looked ready to pop. And while her slacks might’ve had a few wrinkles down her long legs, they were absolutely skintight on her hips. Looking like they’d been vacuum-sealed to the compact muscle of her ass and the tempting sweep of her groin.

Sand wanted her—she was woman enough to admit that. The shapely body made irrepressible thoughts of how passionate it would be, between her attraction to Sartana and how obviously Sartana was attracted to her. She wanted to feel Sartana’s soft skin pressed up to hers. She wanted to taste Sartana’s engorged nipples and feel how Sartana’s wet cunt roiled with her tongue inside it.

But the feather moving over her thighs made it hard to think of any innuendo.

“Ohhh,” she sighed, twisting on the cold slab she’d been imprisoned against as the soft fibers moved between her legs.

“Trying to steal my country’s national treasure. Naughty, naughty.” A sensual grin rode Sartana’s full mouth. Skillfully, she teased the tip of the feather as close to Sand’s pussy as it could get before they touched.

Sand knew she wouldn’t get satisfaction from the sadistic interrogator, but the closeness of the feather verged so fully on relief that Sand couldn’t stop her body from hungering for it. The knowledge that she wouldn’t find release was unbearable. Her thighs clenched and quivered without input from her mind.

“If you think about it, it’s a compliment,” Sand said. “Don’t you think all the people with jewels I haven’t stolen should feel slighted?”

Sartana drew the torturous feather up to Sand’s breasts. She drew circles around the firm nipples, tickling the tender areolas until helpless gasps of enjoyment spilled from Sand’s endlessly working lips.

“I could put you away for life,” Sartana cooed happily, watching Sand squirm with immense satisfaction.

“OHHHNN! Oh shit!” Sand moaned, twitching wildly as she tried to take how ardently those soft tickles were making themselves felt. “I know you’re getting off on this, but I promise, just take these cuffs off and I’ll get you off much harder!”

And so will I, even if you’re the original pillow princess, Sand thought, her body shuddering uncontrollably.

But Sartana was too damn good at her job—if something she was so clearly passionate about counted as work. When Sand’s pitching hips rolled to the side, the feather darted between her buttocks and landed temptingly against her anus.

“OOOOO!” Sand gasped, feeling arrows of need cut into her. She wanted her body to be grabbed, rubbed, squeezed. She wanted her nipples to be sucked as hard as Sartana’s sweet lips could manage. She wanted a full cunt and an asshole that was anything but tight.

“But San Sierra isn’t a very rich country,” Sartana continued, as though thinking out loud, seemingly ignorant of the sensual torture Sand was going through due to her actions. Heightening Sand’s rapturous agony all the more. “It would cost us so much to feed and clothe you for the rest of your natural life.”

“Then why not let me go?” Sand gritted out.

Sartana bent over her, letting her breasts loom before Sand’s face. The engorged buds of Sartana’s nipples brushed against her lips. She yearned to taste them. As much as Sand wanted her own breasts played with, she might’ve wanted Sartana’s even more.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting off,” Sartana hissed with a roll of her tongue to fully emphasize the double meaning. “But San Sierra’s national treasure… you have to be punished for being such a greedy bitch. Or at least make it up to us…”

Sand strained her neck, puckering her lips in an attempt to wrap them around the treasures offered her mouth, but Sartana straightened. Just a little more every time Sand’s mouth brushed against a nipple. Keeping it just out of reach.

“You want me to make it up to you? Get over here, come on, I’ll have you wishing I stole your national treasure every week!”

“Oh, honey, it isn’t just me you screwed though,” Sartana laughed, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples between her fingers to further tempt Sand with what she couldn’t have. “It’s everyone in San Sierra. You want to make up for it? You’ll have to let them screw you.”

“What?” Sand asked flatly, so stunned it even managed to slice through her arousal.

“We’re going to make you Miss San Sierra,” Sartana told her happily. “It’s a bit like being homecoming queen. Only according to the national charter, you’ll be married to all the hard-working government employees on the island. And they will be expecting a wedding night. Wouldn’t you?”

“What kind of fucked up constitution do you people have?” Sand demanded.

“It’s a great honor,” Sartana said with snide correction. “And, be honest, has the Western world really come up with a better way for a single woman to get a date?”

“So, what, you want me to go door to door, fucking everyone with a cock and balls?”

“It’s really just the police department. We believe in small government on San Sierra. And you don’t have to fuck everyone. Just everyone who wants to fuck you. Until your reign is over.”

“So I’m the town bicycle for a day?”

“Day and a night,” Sartana corrected her.

“You must be crazy. I’m not some kind of super whore! I’d be in the fucking burn ward just from the friction.”

“We have done this before, you know. That’s why we find it best to start with the, ahem, most luckily endowed. He’ll get you loosened up nice and soft for everyone else.”

“Sounds great,” Sand trilled sarcastically. “And what if I say no?”

“Like I said, we don’t have the budget to imprison you for life. That’s why we’ll just have to pretend you said yes. After the first few, you’ll be enjoying yourself anyway. San Sierra is home to some very giving lovers. Why do you think I moved out here?”

That was when the largest cock Sand had ever seen dropped down on her face. She looked up and saw Marco, the cop that had arrested her. He’d seemed overjoyed to have caught her. And no wonder, when he knew this was coming. He stood at the head of the table, dangling his huge cock over her mouth.

All too eager to get back the excitement she’d found with Sartana and then had stolen away, Sand opened her lips and took the thick member into her warm mouth. She sucked hard, moaning with delight at how it grew hard, throbbing into every working of her milking lips.

It was only when she reached out to take hold of that massive cock that she remembered her hands were still tied. But Marco was hardly holding back. He went as far as she would’ve—with his prick fully erect and hard as a lead pipe, he took it from her mouth and swiped it all over her face.

“Mmmm, yeah, that’s right.” Sand smiled, licking at it whenever it came within reach of her mouth. “I want as much of that as I can get!”