The Clan Wars (m/f, futa, monster girls)

[balthazar]

Prologue - Kalliya


Kalliya leaned against the open window sill, her naked, coffee brown skin pressed against the cool grey stone, long black hair tugged gently by the breeze. Behind her she could hear the sharp staccato of the demon Gaermeon’s hooves on the tower’s wooden floor as she moved behind her. Ahead of her, through the window, she had an amazing view of the rusty orange plains stretching northwards, shrouded by a haze of heat and blowing dust. Feeling the warmth of the demon’s presence on her exposed buttocks and thighs, she spread her long, smooth legs, presenting her dripping quim, the movement making her lush, sweat beaded breasts push against the masonry of the window ledge. She felt the blunt, hot head of the demon’s horse like phallus caress her pussy lips and warm, slimy pre-cum smeared against them. A low moan escaped her lips as the wide cock pushed inside her. In her mind’s eye she could see the hefty, veiny, purple penis pushing into her cunt, stretching it delectably, even as she felt inch upon inch of the meaty tool slide into her.


“I do so enjoy these meetings of ours,” said the Gaermeon, her husky, honey warm voice washing over Kalliya even as the hermaphroditic demon’s massive cock hilted itself in the dusky magician’s dripping pussy.


Kalliya could only reply with a satisfied grunt as she felt the demon’s overly-ample bosom and hard, pierced nipples mash against her back.


“So what was it you wished to discuss?” enquired Gaermeon, the ess sounds spilling sibilantly from her long, forked tongue as she began to gently hump her oversized cock into Kalliya’s tight, wet hole.


Panting slightly as the demon began to fuck her rhythmically, Kalliya responded, “Well, I, uh, think I, uh, may have, uh, found some, uh, clues to, uh, the loca-uh-tion of the, uh, artifact, uh, we seek.”


The heat radiating from Gaermeon’s skin was intoxicating, causing Kalliya to sweat heavily. When the demon lifted her heavy tits from the mage’s back, the breeze coming through the window tickled deliciously across her damp skin. Kalliya felt the demon’s claw fingered hands grasp her ass-cheeks, pulling them apart as she began to thrust her purple skinned cock more vigorously into Kalliya’s spread pussy.


Kalliya’s bountiful ass rippled with the impact of Gaermeon’s hips as the demon picked up the pace of their rutting, “It’s in the, uh, eastern reaches,” the mage continued, “Rumour, uh, has it that, uh, there’s a tribe, uh, of orcs there, uh, that worship it, uh, as some sort, uh, of religious artifact.”


“Well, well,” came the nectar dripping voice in reply, “we shall have to send someone after it. I presume you can put together a competent retrieval operation?”
Gaermeon’s smooth, cum-heavy ballsack slapped against Kalliya’s erect clit as the demon continued to plow her cock in and out of the magician’s cream dripping cunny. Every time the hefty globes smacked into her pleasure button a jolt of ecstasy shivered through the properly mounted mage. Drops of sweat trickled down Kalliya’s cleavage to splatter on the floor and the stone of the window sill.


“I think, uh, I can, uh, do that, uh. Do you, uh, need me, uh, here or, uh, should I, uh, go along?”


“As much as I enjoy the pleasure of your company, my dear Kalliya, I feel you should probably attend to this task yourself. We wouldn’t any mistakes to be made, now would we?” The demon leaned over the mage as she spoke the final sentence, pressing her ample bosom against Kalliya’s naked back once more while reaching her clawed hands around the mage to wrap her in a hot embrace. As the demon’s claws caressed her skin, a momentous climax tore through her pleasure wracked body.


“Ahhh, yes mistress!” was all Kalliya could manage as she slumped down from the window to collapse face down on the floor, ass raised.


Gaermeon repositioned herself above the quivering mage’s prone form, gripping her turgid shaft in a purple, clawed hand and rubbing it between Kalliya’s upraised butt-cheeks. Her spade tipped tail lashed the air in pleasure.


“Now, my dear, where would you like to receive my seed? Your cunt? Or did you want it in your scrumptious, tight, little asshole again?”


Chapter 1 - Bann


When the sun crested the valley walls and shone through the windows of the longhouse, Bann was already awake. As his fellow clan members arose and rubbed the sleep from their eyes, he was already strapping on his leather jerkin and lacing up his fur boots. He hadn't managed to get much sleep that night, his stomach churning and twisting into knots of anxiety over the day ahead of him - today was the day of the Clan Games, when the warriors would be chosen for the warbands of the summer to come, and Bann was going to be vying for a place in his first raiding party. Son of two clan thanes, both of whom had given their lives for the honour of the clan during raids in the south, Bann was anxious to prove himself worthy of their legacy. As the snows receded up the valley, chased by the spring wildflowers, he'd doubled his efforts during training and sharpened his axe 'till it gleamed. Last night, the other clans had arrived; the centaurs of Clans Running Grass and Rolling Rock and the barbarians of Clan Kolgannis had set camp just outside the palisade gates of the village of Koltar. Today the warbands would be formed and the raiding routes decided.


Bann was anxious, but he was confident. He felt good and fit - he could jog the length of the valley without pause, and had made the 10 league journey countless times over the previous year to end up gazing at the grass plains that stretched off to the southern horizon. His axe-work had improved too - he could split log in one stroke and was skilled enough to even have bested old Hemming One-Eye on two occasions. Archery was his weakest discipline, but even so he could send an arrow out to two hundred and twenty paces and hit a target reliably at fifty. As he strapped on his armour, picked up his axe and shield and grabbed his bow, Bann tried to quell his anxiety. He would be chosen. He had to be chosen.


Around the young warrior, the rest of the longhouse inhabitants were rousing from their furs to begin the day. The double doors at the end of the hall opened and in came the cook Hodvar, with a cart full of rashers of bacon and fresh bread. In the morning gloom he could see old Frida stirring the fires up with her one good arm. Here and there soft grunts and the sounds of flesh slapping flesh could be heard as some of the clan warriors had a quick fuck before breakfast.


Thinking he might get a bit of last minute practice at the archery butts before the games began, Bann nicked a loaf of bread from Hodvar’s cart by the great fire as he headed for the doors. Near the door he passed the furs where his friend Hedda slept. Strong, beautiful and blonde, Hedda was a clan spearmaiden, four years his senior and veteran of many raids already and Bann had a tremendous crush on her. This morning she was on her hands and knees, large round breasts swinging in the morning air while Jon, her shield bearer, mounted and fucked her from behind. Noticing Bann heading for the door, the blue eyed lass looked up and gave him a smile and a wink while Jon gave him a thumbs up.


‘That lucky bastard’, thought Bann as he stepped outside, his cock hardening under his kilt.


The archery butts were just outside the back gate to the village and Bann munched on his loaf of bread as he made his way there. After a quick stop by the fletcher to grab a quiver of arrows for his short bow, he was out the gate and standing at the fifty pace marker in front of the hay targets. With anxious flutters in his stomach and a morning hard-on to contend with, Bann’s shooting was worse than usual. He grunted in frustration and tried to focus, but still his arrows flew wide.


Concentrating as he was, he was startled when a woman’s voice spoke from behind him, “You’d do better if you drew your bow with both arms instead of holding your left arm so rigid.”


Turning quickly, Bann was greeted by the sight of a pale skinned, red haired centaur woman, her horse half covered with a shiny chestnut coat of fur. He was immediately struck with her beauty - gorgeous full lips, bright green eyes and the lightest dusting of freckles across her face. Her mane of red hair was tied behind her pointed ears with a leather strip, the same colour as the tight fitting leather jerkin she wore. Strapped to her back was a three yard pike and hanging from a harness where her human torso joined her equine body was a longbow and quiver.


“Uh. Okay,” he replied as he sent another arrow sailing over the target, “never could really get the hang of that.”


“Here, watch me,” said the beautiful centaur as she strung her longbow.


The redhaired warrior pulled an arrow from her quiver, knocked it, and drew her bow as she lifted the string to her cheek, pushing out with her left arm as she turned her torso sideways to the target while drawing the bowstring back with her right arm in one fluid motion. The air thrummed when she loosed the arrow, and a few wisps of straw puffed into the air as the bulls eye was pierced by the clothyard shaft.


Bann tried to study the centaur warrior’s impressive technique, but after catching Hedda’s raunchy display with Jon back in the longhouse, and now facing a beautiful centaur, all he ended up doing was watching her her impressive bosom as it strained at her leather jerkin while she drew her bow and it’s tempting jiggle as she loosed the arrow. It didn’t help that she seemed to emanate a musky, sweet aroma that clouded his head and send blood rushing to his crotch. When he tried to follow her lead he fumbled his arrow badly, his bow string slapping the inside of his left arm to leave an angry red welt.


“You seem a little distracted,” said the older woman, kindly, as he nursed his sore arm.


Bann knew there was little hope in hiding the erection that was tenting his kilt as he mumbled through an apology.


Her laugh was rich and warm and disarming. She smiled as she looked down at the source of Bann’s discomfort.


“I’m sorry little one, I should have realised my being in estrus would have such an effect on you,” she paused, nibbling on a fingernail, before her eyes narrowed and a mischievous grin turned up the corners of her mouth.


“Well, seeing as it would help your practice, and seeing as I could do with a little fun, myself, maybe a quick little fuck would be fine.”


Bann’s eyes popped open in shock at what he was hearing.


She trotted around behind him, reaching down to slide her hands under his collar and across his pecs, “What do you say, little warrior?”


Bann was surprised, but somehow managed to fumble out an acquiescence. He’d been with a few of the village girls before, but this was a centaur! His cock grew even harder under his kilt, to the point where he thought it might fall off.


“Ha. I thought as much,” she murmured gently, “We’d best get you out of that armour before you cause some damage.”


As she spoke, she’d loosened the lacing at the back of her own leather jerkin. Bann was tall, just over six feet, but even so his head was barely past the centaur warrior’s belly button. When she removed her armour he could feel her ample breasts pressing against the top of his head. He turned, working at the straps of his own jerkin, to face the breathtaking creature. Her stomach was muscled, abs clearly delineated. Above the, her bare breasts were full and round with very little sag thanks to the toned form of her musculature. He wasn’t in bad shape either - his training regimen had given him firm pecs and rock hard abs too, and Bann watched as the older woman smiled appreciatively while she looked him over.


When he finally dropped his kilt to reveal his tumescent shaft, she smiled even wider and let out a little coo of delight.


“Maybe not as big as our stallions, but I think that’ll do just fine,” she complimented him.


“Thank-you ma’am,” he replied, watching as she turned slowly in front of him.


Once she was facing away from him, Bann was greeted by the shining, short fur of her haunches and the fine, chestnut red of her tail. She lowered her front legs, looking over her shoulder as she did so, leaving her buttocks at head height to Bann. Her tail flicked, wafting the heady aroma of her musk towards the human warrior.


“Now, I’m in estrus, so I can’t let you use my pussy, but if you get it nice and wet, I’ll let you fuck my ass. Sound good?”


Bann nodded vigorously, and was rewarded with another wave of her sweet yet earthy perfume as she lifted her tail to expose her equine pussy lips and winking asshole. The skin of her mons and butt-crack was black and had a smooth, slightly rubbery texture. As he watched fascinated, a thin string of clear, viscous cunny-juice dripped from her labia. Without thinking, Bann leaned forward, hands on her wide haunches, and licked his tongue across her pussy lips. He felt a shudder ripple through her and she let out an almost neigh-like exclamation of pleasure.


She tasted almost cloyingly sweet on his tongue, and Bann had to have more. He pressed his face against her raised cunt, sucking and licking. Her clit, almost three times bigger than a human girl’s, grew erect, sliding from it’s hood at his ministrations, and Bann ran his tongue over before gently kissing and sucking on it. More shudders ran through his centaur mate, and he could hear her murmuring gentle words of encouragement, urging him on before letting out a loud gasp. Her haunches quivered in delight and Bann could see her anus contract as she orgasmed. A flood of fem-lube splashed out of her equine quim, splattering Bann’s tongue and across the ground.


Lapping at the centaur pussy had made more blood surge into his already iron hard erection. His cock felt so stiff and engorged it was almost painful. Knowing he had to get some relief soon or he just might die, Bann turned his attention to the female warrior’s asshole, lathering it liberally with spit until it shone wetly to the same extent her dripping pussy did.


“I think I’m ready,” she murmured huskily, dropping her ass down from Bann’s head height as she folded her hind legs.


Bann was more than ready, and took his rampant erection in hand, pressing the swollen head of his cock against her sphincter. He may have been with a few of the village girls, but had never had anal sex before and now here he was, about to slide his raging cock into exquisite centaur ass.


Pushing forward with his cock, Bann could feel the centaur’s sphincter resist briefly before he felt her flex her haunches and suddenly the head of his penis popped into her anal passage. Her asshole felt like a warm, buttery vice around his dick and once more he felt her flex her haunches, causing the muscles of her ass to contract around his shaft like his cock was being milked. A flood of bliss washed over him, forcing him to pause his pushing and stand still,  wracked with pleasure, mouth hanging open and cock half inside the centaur’s ass.


“C’mon little one, you can start moving. We can’t be here all day. Some people have important things to do today!”


Roused from his reverie, Bann, grinned back at the centaur as she gazed over her shoulder at him. “You feel amazing!” he spurted out.


“I know,” she replied, smiling back, “but this was supposed to be a quickie, so hurry up and fuck my ass!”


Needing no further encouragement, Bann pushed his cock further into her slick asshole until he felt his balls press against her pussy-lips. Then he slowly pulled back, looking down as he did so to see his dick pull slowly out of the centaur’s anus. A thick string of girl cream stretched from her wet pussy lips to his swinging balls. Remembering this was supposed to be a quickie, Bann thrust forward again before realizing he might be going too fast for his centaur mate.


“I’m sorry! Are you okay? I should be more gentle!” he exclaimed.


“Don’t worry, little warrior, I can take it. Don’t be afraid to go as hard as you like,” came the even-toned reply.


Bann began pumping his cock in and out of the centaur’s wonderful ass enthusiastically. With every inward thrust he felt his balls slap against her dripping cunt lips. His fingers were splayed for purchase on her shiny chestnut haunches, his legs spread wide to give him proper leverage as he found his rhythm. Soon, he could hear soft grunts and moans coming from the woman he was mounting and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.


Leaning forward, Bann draped himself across the centaur’s hindquarters, bracing himself as he pistoned his cock in and out of her buttery asshole. As he did so he caught her beautiful visage looking back at him, eyes half closed in a lusty gaze.


“Oh, little one, oh! Keep fucking me... like that and you... just might make... me cum again!”


“I don’t know how much longer I can last, ma’am!” came Bann’s strained reply.


The strong muscles in the centaur’s ass were clenching and releasing rhythmically along the length of his prick, and the boy could feel his orgasm building.


“Oh yes! Almost there! A little longer!”


“I… thought… you… said… this… had… to… be… quick!” replied Bann, his words punctuated with frantic thrusts.


“Oh here I CUMMMM!” came the response, and Bann felt another gush of girl juice splash against his swinging balls.


“Ma’am… I’m… going… to… cum… soon… too…” the words stumbled out of Bann’s mouth as he prepared to pull his cock out of the blissfully warm, tight ass it was thrusting into.


Panting heavily, the centaur looked back at the little warrior happily humping away on her arse, “It’s okay, little one, shoot your cum in my ass. Go on, let it all out. Don’t hold back.”


Her husky voice and lewd words pushed Bann over the edge, and before he knew it his cock was spasming inside the tight confines of the centaur’s asshole, spraying what felt like a gallon of sloppy cum into her bowels. As he lay, cheek and chest pressed against the silky fur of her back, Bann’s pelvis kept thrusting while his ejaculating cock spurted its seed into her until his overwhelming orgasm finally petered out.


“Gods, that was incredible,” he mumbled exhaustedly as he raised himself off her back. As he pulled his spent cock from her sphincter, a torrent of pearly white jizz oozed out, trickling in globs to the ground.


The obviously satisfied centaur rose, somewhat unsteadily, “That, my little warrior, was just what this centaur needed.”


An epiphany knocked somewhat sheepishly on the door of Bann’s brain, “I just realized, ma’am, I don’t know your name! My name’s Bann.”


“Ah, Bann, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” replied the centaur, still somewhat unsteady on her hooves and with a small river of semen trickling down her leg, “My name is Queen Lisbet Running Grass, but I think at this point you can just call me Liz.”


To be continued...

 

[balthazar]

The story continues. A job offer and a randy goblin make an appearance. Feedback is welcome!


Chapter 2 - Mila


Mila sat at the bar of the Ogre’s Drum, chin resting on her hand, flagon of bitter dark ale growing warm in front of her. Ordinarily the orc was an enthusiastic drinker, but today she nursed her drink, long lashed eyelids half closed, a bored frown twisted on her tusked mouth.


Behind the bar the huge ogre bartender swished a rag around the inside of empty glass and looked concernedly over at her friend. “What’s got you troubled lass?” she enquired in her low, heavily accented voice. The arr sounds tumbled and rolled out of her mouth.


“Ah, sheeit, Jo. I need a job,” sighed the orc.


“You know you can always come work for me again. Last time you were turning tricks here you made fat sacks of coin.”


Jolene ran the Ogre’s Drum, a two story tavern and brothel in the heart of Top Town. Situated in an old, three story wattle and daub manse deep in the spiderweb of streets and alleys that tangled through the core of the mountain city, the Ogre’s Drum was renowned throughout the Shrouded Mountains as a place where one could acquire a drink, a fuck or a rumour of almost any flavour. As Mila lamented her circumstances to Jolene, various patrons filled the booths, tables and stools at the bar. Here, a scarred human barbarian hunched over a blister-whisky, there, two goblins chattered in hushed tones with a figure wearing a hooded black cloak, while at the main staircase a muscled half-orc woman was led upwards to the rooms where the more physical entertainment took place by a grinning elven lothario.


“Ha, thanks Jo, but I don’t need the coin, as much fun as earning it can be. I’m still flush after that last job. Nah, I need to stretch my legs on the road. Gotta get out of this town before ol’ Alagar gets hooked on you and grows fat,” replied Mila, speaking of her warg. The huge, wise, wolf-like creature had gotten comfortable over the past weeks, sleeping behind the bar and getting far too many treats from the tavern’s friendly staff.


At mention of his name the napping beast cracked open a golden eye and peered his shaggy, black-furred muzzle around the corner of the bar before yawning and resuming his doze. He’d travelled and battled beside Mila for years now, and the two hand formed a bond that went beyond friendship. His eight foot frame was heavily muscled and bore many scars that spoke of the numerous fights he had borne the orc through.


“Well, if I hear of anything I’ll toss it your way before I pin it on the board,” the ogre barkeep said, nodding her head in the direction of the wooden job board near the door. The messages that were currently pinned to it were mostly minor jobs and caravan escorts - nothing really worth the gold or time of an experienced orc warg rider.


If she was going to say more, she didn’t have an opportunity as two brawling figures came tumbling down the stairs. Both clad in the fur and hide armour of the northern barbarian tribes, the two humans were viciously punching and grappling punching one another while two goblin half dressed goblin sisters looked down at them from the top of the stairs, laughing jovially.


“Jo! Got a couple of idiots that need to leave!” one of them shouted.


Jolene had already turned, retrieving a metal studded bat from under the bar as she did so. The club would have taken two hands for a human to even consider lifting, but the brawny ogre easily hefted with her right hand as she made her way towards the fur clad fighters.


“Need a hand?” enquired Mila.


“I got this,” came the rumbling response.


Nine feet tall and covered in muscles that had to move to get out of the way of more muscles, Jolene was a dab hand at breaking up a brawl. Top Town was a rough place, full of many of the toughest individuals to walk the Shrouded Mountains, and most of them knew to get the fuck out of the way when they saw the brown skinned, hulking form of Jolene striding their way, club in hand. The tall barkeep wore a tight fitting gambeson, low cut to show off her impressive cleavage, but a practical piece of armour, thick enough to turn a knife thrust, nonetheless. Leather trousers and steel capped leather boots made up the rest of her apparel, ideal for a barkeep who had to finish many a fight before furniture got wrecked.


Mila took a swig from her flagon and watched as the ogre waded between the brawlers. Jolene reached out with a massive hand, yanking one of the battling figures away from the other, interposing her huge form between the two.


“Oi!, You two! OUT! NOW!” she bellowed.


As one barbarian dangled helplessly from Jolene’s left fist, the other drew a wicked looking curved knife from his boot.


“That was stupid,” remarked Mila to no-one in particular.


Jolene’s right hand made in a quick jabbing movement with the hilt of her bat and the knife wielding human was rewarded for drawing his weapon with a broken nose and at least five missing teeth. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious, and Jolene began hauling his now much more subservient opponent toward the door.


While the scene was resolved, Mila felt a presence at her side. “Can I help you?” she asked, glancing to the right to see a black cloaked figure at her elbow.


In the gloom beneath the cloaked figure’s hood, Mila’s fine vision could make out a tan skinned, quite attractive female human face with plump lips, wide set brown eyes and coal black hair.


“I heard you might be looking for a job,” came the reply. “I can pay quite well.”


“Depends on what the job is. What needs doing?” inquired Mila.


“Why don’t you come back to my table and we can talk about it?”


The cloaked figure led Mila to one of the booths against the wall. As they approached, the two goblins that were seated at the booth got up and departed, the one in front giving a nod to the woman in the black cloak and a thumbs up to Mila as he passed. She recognized him as Urglot, a broker and merchant she was quite familiar with. If this job turned out to be a good one, she’d have to thank him somehow.


“Alright, who are you and what’s this all about?” said Mila as she sat down across from the woman in black.


“Well, my name’s Kalliya, and I’m in need of a guide and a translator for a trip into the eastern reaches. I’d heard-”


“Wait, what?” interrupted the orc. “Why in the hells would you want to go there? Everyone knows the eastern reaches are a proper shit show these days. Full of gods damned savages.”


“That goblin said you’d traveled the region.”


“Yeah but not by choice. I barely made it out with my head on my shoulders and I’m a greenskin. The tribes in the east don’t like foreigners, especially humans. They’ll eat you for lunch.” Mila didn’t think Urglot would be getting any reward for passing this job her way. He’d be lucky if he escaped a beating.


“That’s why I’ll be paying well,” explained Kalliya. “Very well.”


The human dropped a fat pouch onto the table. Mila reached for it and peeked inside to see a heap of precious gems.


The black cloaked woman continued, “You get this now and another bag once we get back.”


“Huh. That’s a tempting offer, but you’ll need more muscle than just me.”


“There’ll be someone else joining us - he’s very handy with a bow and blade. He’ll be able to handle himself, and I can throw a spell or two.”


Mila considered the situation; two well armed warriors and a mage made the venture seem slightly less suicidal, and the pay was very good.


“Alright. You’ve answered the where, but not the why.”


“There’s a tribe of orcs there - the Redtooth Clan I think they call themselves,” said Kalliya, “They have an artifact that I’m interested in studying. I’d like to talk to them and see if they’ll let me have a look at it. That’s why I need a translator.”


“I know the Redtooth,” said Mila, “They’re not as crazy as the rest. This is still a bloody dangerous job, but I’ll join you. It’s a two week journey to the edge of the reaches and it’ll probably be another week to find the Redtooth clan. I’ll need a day to get supplies.”


“Then we’ll meet at daybreak the day after tomorrow at the east gate,” the mage said, offering her hand across the table to Mila.


After the mage departed, Mila walked back to the bar where Urglot and Jolene were chatting. The bartender gave Mila a smile and the little goblin asked her whether she’d taken the job offer. Mila smiled back and showed the two of them the hefty sack of gems she had tied to her belt.


“I’m thinking I may have earned a thank-you very much, Urglot,” said the goblin, grinning.


“You little runt,” said Mila, “I know she already paid you to find someone for this job.”


“It’s true,” replied Urglot ruefully, “but I didn’t have to send her your way. I know Gara’s upstairs riding some elf cock. I coulda sent this one over to her.”


“Bah. You know Gara couldn’t handle a trip to the eastern reaches. Still, I guess a little thanks is in order. What do you want?”


The goblin broker said nothing and simply leaned back on his stool to grin lasciviously at Mila’s muscled, round ass. Jolene laughed as she saw Urglot’s lusty leer.


“Gods damned randy little gobbos, eh Mila? What can you do?” the ogre chuckled as she turned to go check on her other patrons.


Giving a sigh of mock exasperation, Mila leaned forward against the bar and shimmied her black leather pants down until they bunched around her ankles. She and Urglot had shagged before and to be quite honest she was looking forward to getting a quick fuck from the little guy. Like most goblin men, despite his small stature, his equipment was disproportionately large and she knew the goblin broker could use it well.


There was a grinding noise as the goblin dragged his stool into position behind Mila’s bare, dark green buttocks. Once it was behind her, the short greenskin climbed atop it and licked his lips before leaning in and running his long tongue across her exposed vulva. He slid the wet organ into her quim and lashed it over her clitoris before sliding it upwards over her perineum and slathering spit over her asshole.


“Ooh ind ith I thtick it in oor ath?” said Urglot, tongue sliding around the wrinkled rosebud of Mila’s anus.


“Oh fine. Go for it,” said Mila, pussy dripping as the goblin gave her a rim-job.


She heard the sounds of Urglot undoing his belt and dropping his pants and her spit slathered asshole became suddenly cool as the goblin removed his enthusiastic tongue, only to replace it with the hot, mushroom like head of his engorged cock. Urglot’s stool wobbled as he kneeled on it and pressed his cock-head against Mila’s asshole and he grabbed one of the orc’s expansive buttcheeks with one hand to steady himself even as he gripped his massive tool with his other hand and pushed it against her sphincter.


Mila’s anus slowly gave way to the goblin cock that was inexorably grinding into it until with a sudden jerk Urglot’s bulbous cockhead popped into her ass. The small greenskin let out a moan as his cock was engulfed by the smooth heat of Mila’s behind.


“Mmpf! That feels damn fine, girl!” he said, pushing forwards slowly, stuffing more of his green schlong into her bum.


Mila could only grunt in reply, her large green breasts heaving beneath her linen blouse and a film of sweat forming on her raised hindquarters. She leaned into the bar as more of the goblin’s cock sheathed itself in her ass until she felt his balls butt up against her mons. The thick penis in her arse elicited a delectable combination of aching pleasure that throbbed through her body. Her bob-cut black hair rocked back and forwards over her pronounced cheekbones as the horny little goblin started up a steady ass-fucking rhythm. Jolene sauntered over to the rutting pair, bottle of blister-whisky and two glasses in hand.


The barkeep placed the glasses in front of Mila and poured a measure of the fiery, amber liquid into both of them. “Here you go, kids,” she said, handing one to the straining goblin mounting Mila and leaving the other on the bar in front of the orc, “a gift from your appreciative audience.”


Mila grinned through gritted teeth and pushed herself up to a standing position, back arched towards the bar, ass pushed out towards the goblin. She heard a loud gulp as Urglot downed his shot of whisky and saw the goblin’s wiry green arm reach past her to deposit his empty glass back on the counter-top before moving his now empty hand up to her bosom and groping her left tit through her blouse. As he teased and manhandled her breast, the diminutive greenskin kept shunting his cock in and out her asshole with rhythmical, short thrusts, his cheek pressed between her shoulder blades, right arm wrapped around her chiseled abs to steady himself.


Mila lifted her glass of whisky to her lips as Jolene watched her getting reamed. “Shite, but you two randy fuckers are making me wet,” said the huge bartender, a flush creeping across her ample cleavage.


“I might just have to find a john to fuck after this,” she continued, refilling both glasses.


The goblin’s pace quickened and the soft slap of his skin impacting the cushiony cheeks of Mila’s butt could be heard above the murmur of conversation in the bar, punctuated by the rutting pair’s pants and grunts. As their fucking grew more frantic, the goblin, still gripping the orc’s large tit tightly with his left hand, reached downward with his right hand, running it over the smooth skin of her abdomen until her found her mons and clit. With dexterous fingers he massaged her erect pleasure button, moving his hand in a circular motion that matched the beat of steady thrusts he was making into her ass. Mila’s mouth hung open, her eyes unfocused as she felt an orgasm building. She knew this goblin was good, and she was about to get proof of that once more.


“Urgh… Gonna cum…” Urglot grunted, and Mila felt his cock swell in her ass, seemingly to twice it’s size, as a blast of hot, sticky sperm traveled up it and spurted powerfully, deep into her bowels.


The warm, pulsing waves of sloppy liquid filling her ass and the steady clit massage were just what she needed. Mila’s muscled butt contracted around the goblin’s cum-spurting cock, milking it as her body quivered in orgasm. She slumped forwards against the bar once more while Urglot finished pumping her full of cum.


As the goblin’s throbbing cock squeezed out a final few ropes of seed into Mila’s arse, Jolene, who had been watching their fucking with lusty eyes, grabbed a towel from under the bar and tossed it over to the panting orc. There was a wet slurping noise as Urglot withdrew his softening tool from Mila’s anus, and she could feel a steady flow of slimy cum trickle down the inside of her thighs. She grabbed the towel and started cleaning herself up, throwing a rakish grin toward Jolene. Behind her smattering of sardonic applause broke out from the appreciative onlookers as Urglot turned on his stool, smiling widely and giving the room a thumbs up.


“Fucking incorrigible,” said Mila, still flushed from her orgasm, to the celebrating goblin.


“You love it,” came the impudent reply.


He was lucky she did, thought Mila as she grabbed what was left of the bottle of whisky, pulled her tight leather pants half way up her thighs and made for the stairs, towel still held against her cum dripping anus.

 

[balthazar]

In chapter 3 we meet an elf mage, a rude imp and some friendly demon siblings and a quest begins.


Chapter 3  - Dayna


The cluster of candles on her desk flickered, disturbed by a cold breeze blowing through her west facing window. The elven mage stopped reading to get up and draw the window’s shutters closed. Typical among elven kind, Dayna stood just over six feet tall. She was clad in a grey tunic, cinched around the waist with a silvered chain belt. A pair of dark blue hose were tucked into her black calfskin boots - she was wearing her comfortable traveling clothes rather than the usual university robe. Her wavy auburn hair was tied behind her in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. Shutters closed, the tall mage returned to the text she had been roused from. Her grey-green eyes flitted from line to line, her lips pursed in concentration.


The cover of the book in her hands read ‘Forbisher’s Bestiary of the Outer Hells’. Dayna was a demonologist at the University of Drasich and tonight she was on the cusp of an academic breakthrough. Recent observations of the Demonic realms known colloquially as the Hells had posited that a significant power struggle was underway. Ruled by a cabal of powerful demon lords from their strongholds in the Inner Realms, the Hells were continually embroiled in a low intensity civil war as demons who grew in power politicked and vied for positions of authority. Despite this, the most powerful demon lords, known as Demon Princes, had held on to their positions at the top of the hierarchy for almost a millenia and up until recently the infernal game had been the domain of the lesser lords attempting to secure a position slightly higher up the food chain.


Signs indicated the situation was changing, however. Summoners had found their conjured demons had shifted allegiances. Lords of Hell who had once been subservient to a specific Prince or Duke now claimed free-agent status or had switched loyalties entirely. For Dayna, this shift had become the subject of her post-graduate thesis and this night she was finalizing her preparations for a trip into one of the outer realms.


Her objective was the realm of a Duke of Hell named Habernalle. She had met the Duke a few times prior, accompanying her tutor on trips through portal gates on fact finding and reagent gathering journeys. Each time one travelled the outer realms there were countless preparations to be made, and this time, her first solo trip, was no different. Wards had to be crafted, spells memorized and charms acquired. Even with the appropriate protections, to gain an audience with a demon lord required a trade, and Dayna had spent a small fortune getting her hands on a few artifacts of power to offer for the information she required.


As she sat at her desk jotting down a few final notes in her journal, her familiar scurried about, packing a small handcart with the various luggage and supplies needed for the journey. Gomp was a two and a half foot tall imp with dark red skin, tiny, leathery wings, nubby, inch long horns, a spade tipped tail and a propensity for sniffing the contents of Dayna’s laundry basket when he thought she wasn’t looking. She had summoned the depraved creature in her first year at the university and had bound him to her with a small diamond shaped tattoo on the lower left side of her neck. Being bound to a mage was an annoyance to demon-kind, but could only happen if the mage responsible was significantly more powerful than the demon. Furthermore, the demon’s free will was not limited except for a restriction on harming their summoner and the ability for the mage to warp the creature to their side at will. The result, for Dayna, was having command over a small bundle of leering, consistently lewd trouble. Between his refusal to wear clothes, his habit of smelling her underwear and groping her whenever he thought he could get away with it and trying to steal things from her fellow students, faculty and anyone who happened to be within range, the elven mage found the foul mouthed imp to be almost more trouble than he was worth. Still, the diminutive, horny creature had helped her out of a few tight spots (often in exchange for favours the elf would rather not talk about), and his few innate magical abilities came in rather useful for some of the more complex spells she had attempted.


“Alright boss. We’re good to go,” said Gomp as he pulled the supply laden cart to the edge of the portal circle etched into the ground in the centre of Dayna’s study. “How ‘bout dat reward you promised me?”


Dayna turned in her chair to see the imp rubbing his semi-erect cock while grinning lasciviously at her. “Fine,” she replied, turning back to the bestiary lying open on her desk, “but only a couple of minutes while I finish my reading and my shirt stays on.”


The imp chortled with glee as he scurried over to Dayna’s desk. “Dis is gonna be good!” he said as he clambered into her lap, his faintly sulfuric odour filling her nose and his demonic heat radiating through her trousers and warming the skin where he perched on her thighs.


The randy familiar flashed his pointed teeth in a lusty grin as he reached up with both hands to grope Dayna’s pert breasts, his small, clawed hands not quite able to fully envelop even her modest bosom. The elven mage tried ignore the frenzied efforts of the lust-driven imp, but couldn’t help glancing down from her book as he delivered a sharp pinch to each of her nipples, causing them to strain against the fabric of her tunic. The red skinned creature’s cock had swollen to a foot in length and Dayna could see clear, musky smelling pre-cum oozing from its engorged head.


“Off!” she shouted, tilting her legs to deposit Gomp unceremoniously onto the floor. “I don’t want that nasty stuff on my clothes!”


The imp grumbled as he picked himself up off the floor and shuffled around behind her chair, managing to look dejected even as his foot long erection bobbed along in front of him. “Fine, but I still get to play with dem titties while I jerk!” he said petulantly as he reached back around to squeeze her left breast with one hand once he was behind her.


Dayna sighed. “Whatever. I just better not find any of your disgusting jizz on my clothes when you’re done. And you’re cleaning it off the floor before we leave.”


“Yes ma’am,” said the imp, underscoring the last word with another firm pinch of Dayna’s nipple.


A few minutes later, Dayna stood in the centre of the portal circle, staff in hand, satchel over her shoulder and a fine, long dagger tucked into her boot. She’d checked the cart properly and had encased it in a basic protective ward - good enough to keep anyone not looking for it from noticing it was even there. Now she waited for Gomp as the tiny demon scrubbed the floor behind her chair with a soapy sponge. Once he was finished, he walked over to stand between the handles of the small cart and dragged it into the circle.


As Dayna began the portal incantation, her sewer-tongued familiar looked up at her and said “Dem boobies aren’t very big, but I still shoulda asked for a tittyfu-”


And then everything went black.


Traveling by portal is a disorienting experience, but Dayna was used to it. She was more worried about what might lie on the other side. If her calculations were off, she might end up embedded in a mountain, or transported to a realm where air doesn’t exist or, in the worst case, adrift in the void. She’d brought along spells to create a pocket of breathable air or a floating platform among various other helpful spells and thought she was well prepared, but when she and Gomp rematerialized what she really wished she’d done is put on her cloak before they left.


It was raining. Judging by the bleak, black, blue and purple rocks surrounding them and the twisted, leafless trees she could see in the distance, Dayna had gotten the location right. This was definitely Duke Habernalle’s realm. Despite the accuracy of her portal, however, Dayna wasn’t happy. The reason for her unhappiness was the translucent, thick, viscous slime that was pouring torrentially from the deep black clouds that covered the sky. It fell in fat, heavy drops and by the time she’d retrieved her dark grey waterproof cloak from the handcart Gomp was dragging, her hair was matted and her clothes clung soggily to her skin. She wiped away a goopy strand of the stuff as it dripped in a long string from her earlobe and quickly pulled her hood up.


Gomp, red skin shining wetly with the goo rain, was lying in a laughing, twitching heap between the handles of the cart. “Ha! And you said you didn’t want any of my sticky stuff on your clothes! Dat’s some fucking rich irony!” he sputtered out between guffaws of mirth.


“Shut up and follow me,” said Dayna as she felt another strand of the slime trickle under her tunic collar and begin oozing its way down her cleavage. “What the fuck is this shit?” she asked no-one in particular.


Habernalle was a Duke of Hell, a powerful entity (although not quite on par with a Prince of Hell), and his realm was suitably expansive. He’d gotten his power the same way every demon gained power; through the acquisition of souls. There was only one way a demon could acquire a soul. Some cultures, Dayna knew, counted various manners in which a soul could be lost - various sins like murder or theft tended to rank among them, but it all really boiled down to one thing; desire. If you wanted something badly enough and a demon could offer it, you were in trouble. Vengeance, sex, wealth, power, or simply for the pain to end - there were many wants, many avenues for a demon to get to you, but they all revolved around that central tenet of desire.


Dayna was pondering on the nature of demons and focusing on maintaining her wards as she and Gomp trudged down the scree covered hillside where they’d materialized and on towards the leafless forest. The elf knew where she was going, having been to Habernalle’s realm before and so wasn’t paying too much attention to the passing scenery as they entered the woods.


“Perhaps you require a guide, fair creature?” said a melodious baritone voice.


Dayna was startled, but tried to hide it as she looked around at the trees for the source of the voice.


“Raise your eyes, sweet lass,” said an equally musical although higher pitched voice.


Peering upwards while trying to keep the slime rain out of her eyes, the elven mage saw two demons, an incubus and a succubus by the looks of them, sitting on a thick branch that hung above the forest path. Both had completely black skin and were totally hairless. Their nude forms were covered by the gooey rain, but instead of making them bedraggled as Dayna was sure she looked, the transparent slime made them shine, the faint light of the realm reflecting brightly off their midnight skin, etching outlines of chiseled muscles and rounded curves.


The baritone voice belonged to a lean, muscled demon, his well defined abs and slab-like pecs rippling, bunching and stretching as he hopped down from his perch. The immense, black feathered wings on his back spread to slow his descent as he neared the ground and then folded up neatly behind him as he came to stand before Dayna. The mage couldn’t help but notice the smooth, hefty penis that hung flaccid between his toned thighs. Landing next to him was a form that could have been his female twin - equally well muscled, but with large, round breasts high on her chest that jiggled slightly as she landed, an hourglass waist and smooth mons instead of a cock. Neither had a single strand of hair on their statuesque bodies, and both had fine featured, noble faces. Their eyes glowed a deep russet orange, their gaze was piercing.


“I know the way, thank you,” said Dayna, politely trying not to stare at the chiseled incubus.


“Damn! You got nice titties!” said Gomp as he lewdly gawked at the lush succubus.


The pair let out a rich, warm peal of laughter.
“Where are you bound?” asked the woman.


“I seek an audience with Habernalle,” replied Dayna, starting to walk around the two demons.


“Truly?” said the incubus, “You have a long journey ahead, you should rest a while with my sister Keira and me before you continue on your way.”


“My brother Keiran and I can be very pleasant company,” said the succubus.


“I’m sure,” murmured Dayna, “but I really must get moving. I’m afraid I won’t be such charming company.”


The two demons spread their wings once more and flapped them in a short, controlled motion that kept them upright and flying backwards, just ahead of Dayna as she walked along the path.


“It’s such a long way to Habernalle’s throne. Perhaps I could carry you?” said the very masculine Keiran.


Keira fluttered in front of her brother and turned towards him. She traced her fingers across his glistening pecs as she looked over her shoulder back at Dayna, “He’s so strong. I’m sure he can carry you easily, and flying is so much faster and more fun than boring old walking.”


“Thank you, again, but no thanks,” said Dayna.


“Hey, sugar tits, you can carry me!” said Gomp.


While they laughed at the imp’s lewd interjection, Keira folded her wings in and Keiran reached his arm around her waist. The incubus kept the demonic pair aloft with strong beats of his wings while holding his sister against him with one arm. The succubus stretched her right arm over his shoulders, behind his neck, pressing her large right breast, shiny with the slime raining from the sky, against the left side of her brother’s chest.


Pouting, she looked at her brother, then back at Dayna and said, “It seems the elf is boring and doesn’t want to play, brother dearest.”


“It matters not, sister mine, mayhap we can amuse ourselves while we watch this boring elf get into trouble,” said Keiran before before leaning in to bite his sister’s earlobe gently.


Keira moaned loudly, a rich, throaty sound, as her brother nibbled her ear and she turned her head to kiss him deeply. As she did so, she stopped tracing her fingers over the incubus’ impressive pecs and slowly moved her left hand downwards, grazing her nails over his washboard abs until her hand came to the base of her brother’s cock. Delicately, the succubus ran her fingertips along the length of Keiran’s penis. Dayna could see it twitch under her caress as blood pumped into it and the weighty tool grew erect. The mage’s quim tingled as a tickle of arousal grew within her.


“Fuck yes!” said Gomp, “I think we’re gonna get a show!”


Dayna’s familiar openly started stroking himself, coiling his spaded tail around the handle where his hand used to be so he could keep dragging the cart as he masturbated.


“This rain makes a fucking fine lube, boss,” said the horny imp, left hand pumping his shaft, eyes glued to the scene the two hovering demons were making.


“Mmmmm, it does, doesn’t it,” moaned Keira, as she wrapped her fingers around Keiran’s cock and began working it to full hardness with short tugs of her hand.


Under the skillful ministrations of his sister’s hand, the male demon’s hefty penis was soon tumescent, swelling up to a truly immense size. Dayna felt a hot flush creep across her body, despite the steady beating of the cool, slimy rain. Her right hand was holding her staff as she walked, but hidden under her cloak her left hand migrated up under the fringe of her tunic and then down under the waistband of her hose until she found the warm dampness of her aroused pussy. Slowly she brushed her fingers across her labia and tried not to moan.


Once the the incubus’ meaty phallus was properly stiff, the rain greased succubus turned in his arms to wrap her legs around his hips. Keiran slipped his arms under her raised legs to grip her ass, a large round cheek in each hand, as he lifted her up and pressed his sister’s nude body to his chest. With one arm wrapped around her brother’s neck, Keira reached down with the other to grasp his cock once more and guide it into her needy pussy as he lowered her onto it.


As the turgid, slick member slowly entered her, the succubus let out a low, breathy moan and whispered, “Oh, sweet brother mine!”


From her vantage point trailing behind and below the copulating pair, Dayna could see the succubus’ labia stretched wide as her brother’s engorged organ slid into it. The elven mage’s clit grew hard she watched the incubus languidly begin to thrust his hips upwards between his sister’s spread thighs, the impacts causing the female demon’s glorious buttocks to ripple and shake. Both demons were covered in the slimy rain, their pitch black skin was oily with the strange precipitation, and it dripped off the mating siblings in long ropey strands.


Keiran beat his wings slowly, just fast enough to keep ahead of Dayna as she made her way through the forest. Both he and his sister looked down at the elf with their glowing orange eyes as their skin slapped wetly together to the rhythm of their passionate rutting.


“Do you think she’s wishing she’d chosen to join us, dear sister?” said Keiran as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his balls swinging heavily beneath his sister’s spread asscheeks.


Keira arched her back, thrusting her heaving bosom into her brother’s face, all the while maintaining eye contact with the elven mage below her.


“I think I see some envy in those eyes, my love,” replied the succubus as she mashed her oily, voluptuous form against her brother’s corded muscles.


Dayna was both envious and frustrated. The wanton display above her was driving her wild with lust and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get off from surreptitiously frigging herself beneath her cloak as she walked. Trying to take her mind off the lewd scene, she glanced around at her surroundings, her eyes quickly skipping over the sight of Gomp pulling the cart beside her, stroking his oversized, lube slicked appendage while lustily watching the two fornicating demons above him. The trees around them were thinning out, and Dayna figured they were nearing the edge of the woods. If she recalled correctly they’d have to cross a stretch of open plain before they reached the gates of Habernalle’s bastion.


Sure enough, the leafless forest soon gave way to an open plain that rolled off into the dark grey fog that shrouded the distant horizon. The gently undulating landscape was covered with a carpet of strange dark red grass with blades about two feet in length. Looming far ahead of the strange party was a massive, craggy fortress. Dayna estimated it was about four hours away and wondered if she would be escorted the whole distance by the vigorously mating demon siblings. The overripe aura of lust they exuded was getting to her and the mage worried that she’d have to stop and finger herself to orgasm before much longer and she definitely didn’t want to do that in front of the two demons.


Beside her, Gomp grunted loudly as he jerked himself to orgasm. His fountain of ejaculate elicited a debaucherous coo from Keira followed by another peal of rich laughter from the demon couple as they slowly circled as they fucked, just above the heads of the two travellers on foot. The incubus kept pumping his cock in and out of his sister’s dripping quim as they lazily flew through the air like a pair of pornographic vultures.


Hours passed and the imposing bastion in the distance grew larger as the party drew closer to it. The elf fought to keep the burning desire inside her under control. Dayna’s hope that her rutting demon escort would grow bored and leave them remained unfulfilled. The incubus’ stamina was supernatural, of course, and the siblings kept pace, languidly fucking each other as they hovered just above the elf and the imp. The horny little Gomp clearly loved the show the two demons were putting on and happily masturbated again and again, spilling his ejaculate on the slate slabs that paved their path towards the castle. It was only when the guards at the gate monolithic gatehouse to the Duke of Hell’s keep became clearly visible that the airborne sex addicts seemed to decide it was time to finish up.


Putting lips against her brother’s ear while they hovered just in front of the sexually frustrated elven mage, the succubus said, in a whisper loud enough that Dayna was clearly meant to hear, “Fill me now, sweet brother. Pour your seed into me.”


“Mmmm,” came the incubus’ melodious baritone voice in reply, “how could a dutiful brother say no to any request from such a sweet, caring sister?”


The male demon’s neck muscles strained against his skin and he moaned loudly. Dayna couldn’t help but watch as his smooth, weighty balls grew taut and a flood of pearly white cum overflowed from the succubus’ well fucked cunt as her brother’s cock ejaculated into it. It fell in heavy, wet dollops from her stretched quim to splatter and mingle with the sheen of slime rain that coated the ground. The demon extended her wings and parted from her brother’s embrace to alight in front of the iron portcullis in the middle of the gatehouse. On either side of the imposing entrance, a pair of guards lounged against the stone work, watching the party’s progress towards the gatehouse. Dayna could see they were beastmen; strange amalgams of goat and human and a type of lesser demon often used as foot soldiers by demon lords. Their goat like faces were split into leering grins as they watched the succubus dip a finger into her cum-oozing pussy and then lick the jizz-covered digit clean.


Dayna’s cunt was on fire. The hours she’d spent walking behind the passionately copulating pair of demons had left her yearning for release. Trying to maintain her composure, she walked over to one of the beastmen standing by the keep gates. As she approached her nose filled with an earthy, cloying odour that radiated off the shaggy demon soldiers. The guard closest to her was at least seven feet tall, possessing a bestial, goat like visage atop a humanoid, almost comically muscled chest. Where his torso met his legs, the lesser demon’s body became bestial once more - his digitigrade legs were covered in a shaggy coat of brown fur and he stood on pair of cloven hooves instead of feet. Between his legs swung a girthy, goat-like cock, glistening pink and tapering to a fine point. Behind his inhuman phallus hung a massive pair of fur covered balls. All four of the demonic guards had a distinct lack of armour and clothes but gripped wicked looking halberds as they stood watch.


The strange creature nonchalantly scratched his hairy sack and sneered at Dayna as she walked up to him.


“Whaaat do you waaant?” he asked in a bleating voice.


“I need to speak with Duke Habernalle,” explained Dayna.


On her previous visits, accompanying her tutor, they’d had to pay for entry - a magical trinket or the like would suffice for the entry tax. Dayna reached into her satchel to produce seance crystal and offered it to the guard.


“I have an item to trade for passage.”


“Too baaad, elf,” said the goat-man, “Haaabernaaalle haaas saaaid no visitors.”


The mage sighed in frustration. This was shaping up to be an irksome encounter. She pulled an onyx ring from her satchel and added it to the offering for the guard. The beast reached out with a very human hand to take the trinkets from Dayna and held them up for examination.


“Hmmmm. Maaagicaaal. Not baaad,” bleated the guard.


By now the other three beastmen had gathered round to observe the negotiations. One was quite similar to the guard she was currently conversing with, but with black fur instead of brown. The other two were clearly female - they lacked the male genitalia of their comrades and each had an impressive set of mammaries hanging from their muscled torsos. One had reddish brown fur while the other had grey fur that was streaked with white and black vertical bands. The two females were also bigger by half a foot than the male guards and seemed to carry themselves with some authority over their smaller brethren, as demonstrated when the grey furred demon reached out and snatched the two magic trinkets from the hand of the male as he examined them.


“Mine!” said the imposing beastwoman and glowered at the smaller male as if challenging him to do anything about the theft. Keeping the ring for herself, she handed the crystal to her female comrade.


“Aaaah! Pretty!” said the russet furred guard as she held the crystal up in the gloomy light.


“Well,” said Dayna, trying to move past the two male guards, “I see we have a deal. I’ll just go on in then.”


Her progress was halted when the black furred beastman slapped his ham like palm against her chest.


“Not so faaast,” he said. “They got theirs. We waaant ours.”


A leery grin smeared itself across his face and Dayna felt the restraining hand on her chest curve to cup her perky breast through her tunic, calloused thumb rubbing across her erect nipple. Her pussy tingled again with unwarranted lust while her stomach fluttered with nervousness.


Behind her she could hear Gomp snickering gleefully.

 

[balthazar]

In chapter 4 a barbarian gets a job and some friends have a party.


Chapter 4 - Bann

Bann was exhausted and sore, but mostly he was disappointed. It had been a difficult day, despite a promising start. The first competition he had participated in was archery and he had managed to achieve a fair result, but the centaurs with their powerful longbows were in high demand and his mediocre result at the butts had resulted in none of the warband leaders choosing him. After the archery came the sparring matches and a brutish Kolgannis barbarian had hewn his shield three times without Bann managing to break even one. A three to two score against a large centaur and a tie against a centaur colt resulted once more in no war-leaders selecting him for their raiding parties. Finally, in the scrimmage, he’d let his frustration get the better of him and had charged too early, ending up ahead of his team and in the midst of the opposing team’s shield wall alone. A vicious rapp to the back his helmet from one of the ‘enemy’ warriors had both knocked him out of the running for a position in a summer raid and knocked him out. His ears were still ringing. Now the forlorn young barbarian sat on the grassy slope at the base of the palisades nursing his pride and a sympathetic clay mug of mead.

Spread across the field in front of him were the gathered warriors of the two human clans of Kolgannis and Koltar and the two centaur clans of Running Grass and Rolling Rock. On the far side of the crowd a small wooden dais had been constructed, for the use of the clan chiefs and the warband leaders. Amid the gathered mass of warriors immense bonfires and smaller cooking fires blazed. Whole cattle were broiling on spits and kegs of mead and ale had been broached and were in the process of being emptied. Drunken human barbarians and inebriated centaur raiders celebrated by dancing, eating, drinking and fucking in equal measure. Years previous, when he was too young to compete for selection but old enough to join the celebrations, Bann had been all too happy to stumble wide eyed through the partying soldiers, gawking at the imposing forms of veteran warriors and the strutting young first-chosen. Young warriors generally spent their first two summers after reaching adulthood as part of the village militia, guarding the homesteads and training for the selection games. As a young militia member, Bann had always dreamed of being counted as first-chosen, as the warriors selected for their first raiding party were known. Now that he hadn’t been selected, Bann felt his dreams die. He would just be another old militia man, unfit for the honour of the the warbands. Oh sure, old One-Eye and Jarl Dantig tried to claim there was still honour to be had in guarding the village, but, though both his parents were dead, Bann felt like his mother and father, both clan housecarls in their time, would have been disappointed.

As he moped into his mug, Bann watched Gunnar Long Arm, Chief of the Kolgannis, mount the dais. There had been a few rousing speeches so far as the war-leaders from the various raiding units stood to declare how formidable their band was and how much plunder they would return north with, but Gunnar was the first of the clan leaders to address the crowd of over two thousand armed soldiers. As he stepped to the front of the stage a deafening roar arose from the massed ranks.

The iron-grey haired barbarian spread his arms, palms facing down, for silence. As the rumble died down, he began to speak.

“Fellow warriors! Fellow battle-kin! It truly is an honour to stand before such a gathering of skill and strength!”

The crowd roared again.

“We of the Northern Alliance of Clans have always been the fiercest, greatest warriors to raid the steppe! In ages past, when the host of hosts gathered and overthrew the Empire, who led the charge south to smash the border lords?”

“WE DID!” bellowed the crowd.

“And when the mighty host reached the gates of the Imperial capital, who was the vanguard that first breached the walls of Drasich?”

“WE WERE!” came the shouted reply.

Bann sighed. Gunnar was speaking of the overthrow of the Empire of Thae. Everyone knew the story of the great army that was formed when the tribes and clans united under one banner to overthrow the human and elven rulers of the Empire. One hundred years ago the orcs, goblins, trolls and giants of the mountains had united with barbarians, centaurs and minotaurs from the plains and forests of the east to march against the Imperial armies, defeating them in the field and sacking the capital city, Drasich. The Empire hadn’t survived the incursion and had fractured into the smaller kingdoms and city states of the west. Drasich was still a major metropolis, but the former imperial capital was now just a city state run by the merchant’s guild.

“I stand before you, brave fighters, to tell you there will be no warbands this summer. No raiding, no skirmishes,” continued Gunnar, “Instead, a new host is gathering!”

This was different, thought Bann, brow knitting as he looked up from his mug. Just in time to make the day worse, it seems Bann would be missing out on a warhost. The throng of warriors crowding the field before him was a frenzy of cheering and weapons were being drawn and raised skywards.

“Once again the clans muster to conquer!” shouted Gunnar over the roar. “Once again we march south! For long we have let the cities of the south and west grow fat, and once again the tribes will gather to reap the harvest!”

Bann spat in disgust at his failure and hauled himself to his feet to drag himself off around the palisade and away from the celebration he felt excluded from. Taking his mug of booze, he stumbled toward the quiet spot where the orchards grew close to the wall, seeking a secluded place where he could nestle down and get properly acquainted with his self-pity. Nothing like a good wallow in misery, he thought as he slouched underneath the arching apple trees.

Once the cheering of the crowd had faded to a faint rumble, the dejected barbarian found a suitable tree and slumped against it. Just as he was taking a deep pull from his tankard, the sound of hushed voices wandered through the evenly spaced trees and into his ears. He was about to dismiss them and find a new, quieter place to drown his sorrows, thinking he was overhearing a couple who had slipped off to have their own, private celebration, when he recognized one of the voices as that of Lisbet, the beautiful centaur queen who’d dallied with him that morning.

“I suppose you have to go with them,” said Liz.

“I am a war-leader, after all,” replied a deeper voice.

“I know that. It’s just that I don’t think this war is a good idea,” said the queen, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Curiosity piqued, Bann rose to his hands and knees and crawled towards the voices. He figured the lower voice was that of Brakis, a huge, sable centaur stallion; one of Clan Running Grass’ most capable war-leaders and one of Lisbet’s consorts. Sure enough, a few orchard rows over from his chosen wallowing location, Bann spied the pretty centaur queen standing next to the dark black bulk of War-Leader Brakis. The conversing pair were lit by the dully glowing moonlight that trickled through the spring leaves of the apple trees.

“Why do we ally with the other tribes once more, Brakis? Why do we want to attack the southern cities?” continued Liz.

“The plunder, the honour-” Brakis started to explain.

“You know I have nothing against a good fight and a proper haul of loot, love, but this just doesn’t seem right. And who’s that shaman that follows Gunnar like a dog these days, whispering in his ear?” The queen sounded angry.

“I don’t know, Liz. That shaman’s odd, to be sure, but the war-leaders voted on this, and you know we must respect the decisions of the Alliance,” said Brakis.

“I know, I know. I wish you weren’t going, or that I could travel with the warbands this year-”

“You are likely with foal. I realise it is still early and you can still run faster than your clan-guard, but we cannot risk-”

“The heir. Yes, yes,” the queen finished his sentence, speaking the words as if she’d heard them countless times before.

Even at this distance, the queen’s estrus musk still found its way to Bann’s nose. The heady mix of pheromones made his heart thump loudly and caused a stirring under his kilt. In the moonlit orchard, the young barbarian watched, mesmerized, as Lisbet reached back to unclasp her leather armour.

“Well, if he must depart in the morning,” she said as she freed her bountiful breasts from the confines of her armoured jerkin and exposed her pale, freckled skin to the moonlight, “perhaps my consort would care to mount his queen once more before he departs to war?”

Bann heard the black stallion snort with lust as Lisbet spoke. The hulking, sable furred warrior stamped his hooves on the grass as he moved behind his queen. The barbarian watched with lust induced awe as the light of the moon reflected wetly off the moist lips of Lisbet’s equine cunny when she lifted her tail to present her sodden slit to her mate. Brakis snorted again and his truly massive flared phallus slid from its sheath at the tempting sight.

Lifting his front legs high, the stallion trotted forward a few steps to mount the female centaur. The blunt head of his hose-like cock prodded at the folds of Lisbet’s pussy, coming away shining with wetness, as the male centaur tried to align his organ with the mare’s sopping orifice. After a few futile thrusts, the centaur warchief’s arm length penis finally slid home and Lisbet let out a satisfied grunt as her needy pussy was steadily filled by Brakis’ throbbing cock-meat. Once his engorged length was sheathed inside his queen’s cunt, the black stallion began to thrust his massively muscled hindquarters. Bann couldn’t tear his eyes away from the lusty scene before him, and his ears picked up the wet, slick, obscene noise of the centaur’s gargantuan tool sliding in and out of the estrus mare’s wet opening.

“Oh, fuck me!” said the centaur queen in a hoarse whisper, “That cock of yours feels exquisite! I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

“I aim to please, my queen,” said Brakis as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lisbet’s torso.

The large centaur took her heaving tits in each hand and began to knead the freckled orbs, squeezing her perky nipples between the knuckles of his fingers as he did so. Lisbet leaned her head back into the crook of Brakis’ neck and shoulder, turning her head and kissing the imposing male deeply as they mated. To Bann, the centaur queen had seemed tall and imposing, but now she seemed dwarfed by the bulk of the equine warchief mounting her. The obscene sight, sounds and smell of the centaur mare in heat being mounted by the massive stallion enflamed Bann with lust. He didn’t even realise he’d lifted his kilt and was stroking his cock rigorously, such was the fog of desire in his head.

While he watched, masturbating furiously, Bann could see Lisbet’s black lipped cunny dripping and splattering the ground with clear pussy juice that glittered in the moonlight as it was squeezed from the queen with every momentous thrust of Brakis’ flared cock. The pair’s rutting became more frantic and the sable centaur male tilted his head to bite his mare’s neck affectionately as he plowed his oversized schlong in and out of her quim. Lisbet’s roan furred haunches quivered with the impacts of the stallion’s haunches and, every time the male mounting her pushed his cock home, she let slip a small moan that seemed to catch in her throat. Brakis’ calloused hands never stopped mauling and teasing the queens pale skinned breasts as he bred her with increasing urgency.

Suddenly, the large male made one more heavy thrust, his grapefruit sized black nutsack slapping against Lisbet’s mons one last time, and Brakis held himself still atop the centaur queen. She let out a loud exclamation, half moan, half cry of joy, and Bann could tell the huge centaur was filling the mare’s cunny with his seed. They stood motionless in the orchard clearing for a long moment, the female centaur moaning breathlessly while pinioned beneath the ejaculating male, before Brakis began moving backwards to dismount Lisbet. His impossibly long cock seemed to take an eternity to withdraw from the centaur queen’s properly fucked cunt. When the flared head finally popped free it was followed by a waterfall of pale spunk that gushed from her gaping pussy. Bann couldn’t help himself. He moaned as his cock pulsed and spurted cum onto the ground.

The centaurs had been gazing at one another in post-coital bliss, but as he moaned while his cock sprayed cum onto the ground, Bann realised they’d both turned to stare right at his hiding place. He froze, screwing his eyes shut and praying to whomever might be listening that he would not be noticed.

“Well well, what do we have here?” said a deep voice.

It was followed by a higher pitched giggle. Brann opened his eyes, cringing as he did so to find Lisbet and Brakis looking down at him. They hadn’t redressed yet and both centaurs were gleaming in the night’s silvery light, covered in a sheen of sweat from their passionate fucking. Brakis looked irritated, but behind him, Bann could see a wry grin of amusement on Lisbet’s lips. He realised he was still crouched on his knees, kilt hiked up, his rapidly deflating cock exposed for all to see. Bann hoped it was dark enough that they couldn’t make out who he was, let alone the deep crimson flush of embarrassment that was taking over his face. Maybe if he got up and ran into the night he would remain safely anonymous...

“Oh, hello Bann!” said Lisbet.

The little warrior’s heart sank. “Um. Hi, your majesty.”

“You know this little spy, my queen?” said Brakis.

“We’ve met before.” said Lisbet, winking at Bann.

Brakis flexed the muscles of his neck, cocking his head to the side as he did so, and cracked his knuckles.

“So? Do I teach this little voyeur a lesson?” he asked.

Lisbet chuckled again. “No, no, it’s fine, Brakis,” she replied. “In fact, if you’re heading back to the herd, I would have a few words alone with our little spy.”

Brakis gave her a nod. “As you wish,” he said, bowing before he left for the visiting clan’s encampment.

As the big stallion departed, Lisbet turned to put her armour on. Once clothed, she faced Bann, who was still blushing furiously. He tried to stammer out an apology, but the centaur queen shushed him, interrupting him.

“Don’t worry about it, my friend,” she said soothingly. “I know the effect a mare can have on a male when she’s in heat. No, there’s something else I wanted to ask of you. I noticed you weren’t chosen for a warband.”

The reminder brought Bann’s crushing despair back to the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t good enough,” he said, looking down at the ground and trying not to show Lisbet how much the rejection affected him.

“There will always be another competition, Bann,” said Lisbet. “You can try again next spring.”

“But this year there’s a warhost, and I’m going to miss it, stuck in the village guarding the bairns and crops,” moaned Bann.

“There’s honour in that,” said the queen, “but I get the feeling that isn’t enough.”

Bann waited for her to continue. He’d heard the ‘honour in guarding the homesteads’ speech from old One-Eye. It was an important task, but the glory to be gained in a warband was immeasurably greater and in a warhost the greatest glory awaited. The barbarian could only imagine the champions and heroes that would have their legends forged on the battlefields.

“With the host in the field, I’ll need liaisons to deliver messages and keep me informed. I think having a human on my staff would ease the  process of communicating with the warhost leaders.” Lisbet continued, “There would be many responsibilities for you, and travelling to and from a host in the field could be dangerous. I have a few other liaisons as well, so you would not be alone in the task, but I think you would be an asset. Do you think you’re up to the job?”

He would be a messenger boy, but he would get a chance to travel with the warhost. Bann practically yelped his acceptance.

“Excellent!” Lisbet beamed at the enthusiastic warrior. “I’ll speak with your Jarl and let him know I’ll be commandeering one of his warriors.”

Bann was in a much better mood as he made his way back to the ongoing celebrations in the meadow. Lisbet had walked with him some of the way, talking about her younger days when she and Bann’s clan chief Dantig had been lowly warband leaders, but Bann had barely taken in any of what she was saying, his head packed full of excitement over the idea of marching with the warhost and the glory he could win. When Lisbet had parted from him to head towards the gathered clan chiefs, Bann had continued on to join the celebrations, refilling his mug with mead and seeking out his friends Hedda and Jon. After asking a few drunken Clan Koltar warriors, he found the spearmaiden and her shield-bearer beside one of the roaring bonfires. Hedda was seated on the ground, leaning against a large, half full tun of ale, while Jon was sprawled on the ground in front of her, head in her lap and obviously the worse for drink. At some point during the night’s proceedings both warriors had managed to get drunk enough to lose their shirts and, while the fair warrior seemed to be doing her best to polish off the barrel she was leaning against, her shield-bearer seemed barely conscious. Jon could never keep up with Hedda when it came to quaffing ale.

The young woman had been selected four years ago to raid with a warband led by a Kolgannis warchief named Gwen Steel Arm and, as was custom, would join Gwen’s warband again this year when they marched with the warhost. Hedda had tried to comfort her friend when Bann realised he would not be joining the warhost, but had ended up watching the despondent warrior slouch off to drink alone. She couldn’t help but notice the grin he bore when he returned.

“You seem happier,” she said as the smiling Bann picked his way past various inebriated partiers to sit beside her. “Some young lass take pity on you and let you get your dick wet?”

“Looks like I’ll be joining the host this year!” beamed the young barbarian, causing Hedda to raise an eyebrow in query.

“You’re looking at the newest warhost liaison for Clan Running Grass!” explained Bann.

Hedda squealed with glee and leaned over the comatose Jon to give her friend a hug. “Who’d you have to shag to get that post?” she asked.

Bann’s heart trilled as his half-clad crush hugged him. Jon groaned audibly as his face was smothered by Hedda’s ample bosom.

“Whatsh going on?” mumbled Jon, words slurred with drink.

“Bann’s going to be traveling with the host!” exclaimed Hedda.

“Oh good,” said her shield-bearer as he struggled to open his groggy eyes, “How’d joo shwing that?”

Bann delved into the story enthusiastically. Jon reached up from his prone position to give Bann a jab in the ribs and a crooked grin when the younger warrior described his morning at the butts and his first meeting with Lisbet. Hedda asked some pointed questions about the big stallion Brakis when he came to the part about catching the centaur queen and her consort in flagrante in the orchard. Bann tried not to be too lewd, but by the end of his story the two barbarians were laughing uproariously at their youngest friend’s debauched tale.

“You fucked a shentaur queen in the ash?”

“Oh my gods, Bann, was it really as big as your arm?!”

“Hand to heart,” said Bann solemnly, “I tell no lie.”

“Thish callsh for another drink,” said Jon, groaning once more as he clambered to his feet to dunk the party’s mugs in the ale barrel.

Hedda scooted forward to let Jon lean against the barrel as he sat down behind her and handed their now full mugs back. Once he was seated she leaned back against him and raised her flagon.

“I propose a toast!” she announced.

“Yesh! A toasht to the newesht shouldier to join the hosht!” agreed Jon, raising his mug with hers.

“Aw, thanks guys,” said Bann, clinking his mug against theirs and drinking deeply, “but I’m just going to be a messenger. You two will get the real glory.”

“Hey now,” chided Hedda, “You’ll be marching with the host and I’m sure you’ll get to join the fight when it happens!”

“Yesh,” slurred Jon as he lazily reached a hand around the ribs of the beautiful barbarian leaning against him to grope one of her large, exposed tits, “and joo got to fuck a shentaur in the ash. Joo should tell ush more about dat.”

In front of the happy group a couple of fellow warriors had shed their armour and the three idly watched as a female barbarian with long black hair hiked up her kilt to lower herself onto her red bearded companion’s erect penis. The black haired woman raised and dropped her ass onto her man’s lap with short, quick movements as they began to fuck, uncaring of the audience they had.

“That’s getting me fucking hot,” said Hedda as she watched the couple hump. “Why are we just talking about a good fucking...”

Her words trailed off as she reached over and slowly ran her hands up Bann’s thigh and under his kilt. Her fingers were cool from where they were gripping her now discarded mug of ale and they felt exquisite when they found Bann’s cock and balls. While Jon slowly groped her tit-flesh and teased her nipples, Hedda fondled Bann’s sack and tickled her finger-tips over his hardening manhood.

Hedda and Bann had fucked a couple of times before, although she usually lay with Jon, and Bann knew the pair were not exclusive to one another. Contraceptive potions were easy to make and acquire, so casual sex was commonplace among the tribes. When a couple like Hedda and Jon declared themselves for one another it was about an emotional bond as opposed to satiating a bit of carnal lust.

Jon placed his mug on the ground beside him and, both hands now free, lifted Hedda’s kilt to her waist. While gently rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger he reached down to run his other hand through the trimmed, blonde hair on her mons and slowly moved a teasing  finger over her labia.

Across from them the other barbarian pair were settling into a good pace, the raven haired woman squatting above the red bearded warrior’s lap while he thrust upwards into her. Their steady coupling produced a slapping noise as their skin smacked together and both were panting in unison.

Bann looked over at Hedda, grinning. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.

In response, she turned over and moved herself down between Jon’s legs, lifting his kilt as she did so. Taking his semi-erect cock in her hand, her lips brushed it as she wiggled her upraised butt and said “Why don’t you lick my pussy and we’ll see where we go from there?”

Bann moved behind Hedda, stripping off his tunic and kilt as he did so. His young muscles gleamed in the firelight. He kneeled and leaned in to put his lips against her slit, giving it a gentle kiss before sliding his tongue between her folds. Hedda gasped as she felt his tongue slide into her and began to bob her head up and down over Jon’s shaft, sucking on it fiercely. The fornicating couple across the fire had slowed their pace and turned their heads to watch as the three barbarians orally serviced each other.

Hedda’s cunt tasted sweet and salty on Bann’s tongue, and he reached between his legs to tug himself to full hardness as he enthusiastically ate her out. Jon moved himself forward to lie on the ground, moaning in pleasure as the spear-maiden’s pink lips slid up and down his now turgid erection.

“Godsh, girl, thatsh fucking nishe,” he mumbled between heavy breaths.

“Mmmmm. Bann’s got me nice and wet. You boys ready for this?” said Hedda as she moved up to straddle Jon’s waist.

With a leg on either side of his thighs, the blonde barbarian mirrored the actions of her black-haired kin and lowered herself onto the tumescent tool now between her legs. She let out a long sigh as she felt Jon’s engorged mass push into her cunt and leaned forward to wrap her arms around her shield-bearer’s head and mash his face into her titties.

She ordered Jon to pull her cheeks apart and then looked over her shoulder at Bann and gave him a wink and a smile, saying, “Go for it. You can tell Jon how it compares to a queen’s royal asshole afterwards.”

“Here, use this!” shouted the dark haired barbarian from the other side of the bonfire as she bucked her hips atop her partner’s entombed penis, “She’ll appreciate a little oil!”

The woman tossed a small flask from her side of the fire over to where Bann was standing and stroking his shaft. Bann grinned back at her while he popped the cork from the bottle’s neck and poured a generous amount of the slick oil it contained over his manhood. After smearing the lube over his veiny cock, he dropped to his knees and aligned his swollen cock-head with Hedda’s anus. The happily fucking couple behind him whooped and cheered as he started to push into his blonde friend’s incredibly tight sphincter. From below, Jon held her butt-cheeks apart, firmly gripping her white skin, while thrusting his own cock slowly into her cunt.

Bann liberally poured more oil onto Hedda’s delectable ass as he pushed against her asshole, watching as it oozed down her ass crack and trickled around the head of his penis before dripping down her pussy lips to coat Jon’s pistoning cock and balls. When Hedda flexed her haunches, Bann’s well-oiled cock suddenly popped inside her, wrapping his manhood in a warm, buttery, vice-like grip. Hedda let out a heavy breath.

“Oh gods, I feel so full!” she gasped.

“Fuck, Hedda, your ass is so gods damned tight!” was all Bann could sputter out as Jon removed his face from her cleavage and looked over the sandwiched spear-maiden’s shoulder to flash his friend a lusty, drunken smile.

The shield-bearer removed his hands from Hedda’s ass and wrapped his arms around the back of her neck, pulling the thoroughly stuffed female barbarian down to him, her tits mashing against his chest. Bann then placed his hands on the blonde warrior’s hips and leaned forward to fully sheath his length in her buttery back passage. Hedda shuddered with pleasure as the two barbarians mounting her began thrusting their meaty cocks in and out of her spread holes. Their efforts were disjointed at first, but eventually they established a rhythm. As Bann pushed his organ into her ass, Jon would withdraw his from her dripping pussy and soon the two cocks were sawing away in an alternating pattern of thrusts and the blonde barbarian was reduced to a quivering, grunting and moaning mass of pleasure.

Between gasps, Hedda twisted to reach back and grab Bann’s arm, pulling him down to lie with his chest against her back. Now properly sandwiched, the spear-maiden could feel her partners’ every movement as they gave her a proper fucking. Bann’s hips rose and fell as he humped vigorously, his cock filling her asshole exquisitely, while Jon grunted below her, pumping his hips upwards to thrust his engorged member into her quim. Hedda could feel the two meaty shafts rubbing against the thin wall that separated them inside her and her nipples stiffened with arousal at her debaucherous predicament, the two rock hard nubs pushing against Jon’s chest where her boobs were squeezed against him. Her ass jiggled and bounced as Bann’s eagerly thrusting pelvis slapped against it and the spear-maiden’s pale skin was soon covered with a sheen of sweat. Pressed between the two sweating, muscled and lust driven bodies of her friends as they plowed her arse and cunny relentlessly with their throbbing cocks, Hedda groaned in pleasure.

Through eyes half closed from the intense sensation of getting doubly penetrated she could see a few fellow soldiers gathering to watch the lewd scene. The thought of being watched, ass and cunt spread wide and stuffed with cock-meat, was too much for her and a powerful orgasm boiled through her thoroughly fucked body from her toes to her stretched holes and up her spine until it tingled across her scalp. As her orgasm tore through her, Bann could feel Hedda’s ass spasm and contract around his cock. The powerful pulses sent jolts of pleasure through his dick, edging him closer to the point of ejaculation.

“Gonna cum!” he exclaimed, pressing himself hard against the sweat-slick skin of Hedda’s back, his thrusting slowing in pace as his orgasm pushed its way up his shaft from his balls.

The hard-ridden Hedda could only manage a low moan, and suddenly she felt a burst of heat in her anus as Bann’s cock throbbed and erupted in her ass, splashing cum deep into her bowels and setting off another, smaller orgasm inside her. Bann could only lay slumped across his friend’s back as his over-stimulated organ pulsed and twitched, spurting what seemed like endless ropes of sloppy seed into her welcoming ass. At the bottom of the heap of orgasming barbarians, Jon kept languidly thrusting into Hedda’s quivering pussy.

“If you’re all done back there, joo mind climbing off? I think I want shome of that,” the warrior asked, words still slurred from the drink.

“Gods, that was good,” said Bann, feeling intensely satisfied. “Uh, yeah, all yours.”

Hedda gave him an exhausted smile as the young barbarian pulled his cock from her still spasming asshole. A trickle of his cum oozed from her well-used opening as Bann rolled to one side while Jon, holding her tightly against him, rolled Hedda onto her back so he was now above her. Once repositioned, he slid his tool, slippery with her cream, from her cunt, eliciting a tired moan from the blonde warrior, and pressed it against her slick asshole.

Already spread by the previous visitor, Hedda’s sphincter readily accepted the entrance of Jon’s turgid member and as Bann picked himself up to refill their flagons, the two were rutting vigorously once more.

“I’ll go get us some water,” he said wearily.

Over the slapping noises of Jon happily pounding his cock into her ass, Bann heard Hedda give him a tired ‘thanks’ and he wandered off to find something non-alcoholic to fill their flagons with. It had been quite a day, and some water would be a necessity if he wanted to avoid the worst of a hangover by the time the host departed in the morning.

 

[balthazar]

An orc girl and her warg travel east. Some bandits get a severe talking to.


Chapter 5 - Mila


It was raining in Top Town. Grey clouds hung low over the mountain top city, matching the grey stone buildings that made up the majority of the architecture within the town walls. Mila was walking beside the warg Alagar as she approached the east gate. She could see the mage Kalliya standing beside a horse to one side of the gate, her black waterproof cloak pulled tight around her and the hood over her hair. Beside her stood another black cloaked figure, but while Kalliya wore a short grey travelling robe and brown hose beneath her cloak, the tall, lean figure beside her wore a black doublet and matching black hose. Beneath his cloak Mila could see the distinctive bulge of a long sword. Over his shoulder was an oilskin wrapped bow - a shortbow, judging by the length of the weapon, but some strange lumps close to where the ends of the unstrung weapon should be caused the orc to wonder exactly what kind of weapon it was. As she drew closer to the waiting pair, Mila could see the tall man had a black scarf wrapped around his hood and covering the lower half of his face, leaving only the pale grey skin of the bridge of his nose and his reddish-brown eyes visible.


Mila was garbed in a well made chain shirt that she wore over a heavy quilted gambeson. Over her supple leather trousers she wore a pair of heavy brown leather boots that extended to the tops of her thighs. A baldric across her back carried a hand-and-a-half sword, with a buckler hanging at her hip and a dagger in her belt. To keep the rain off, the orc wore a brown leather cape and matching hood. In a sling attached to the saddle on Alagar's back sat a heavy crossbow and a sheaf of quarrels. Behind the saddle was Mila's pack and a coil of rope with a grappling hook. She'd spent the previous day assembling her kit and saying her farewells to her friends and acquaintances in town and was now ready for the journey to the eastern reaches - the tail of the Shrouded Mountains that stretched into the Endless Wood.


Upon inspection it seemed the mage was well prepared too - a heavy pack and saddle bags hung from the horse she stood next to, but the black clad figure beside her seemed to have neither horse nor pack.


Mila gave a nod to the two figures by way of greeting as she and Alagar approached.


"I'm Mila," she said as she offered her hand to the man in black.


The man's grip was strong, but he said nothing as he shook Mila's hand - instead he glanced over at Kalliya.


"Good to see you didn't run off with the gems," said Kalliya, smiling, "This elf is Pointer. He doesn't speak."


Mila crooked an eyebrow.


"No tongue. Got it cut out somehow - don't ask me how; he never told me." explained Kalliya. "He's capable though, and good to have around in a fight."


"Uh, it's a long way to the eastern reaches. Don't tell me you're both sharing a ride?" said the orc.


"No no no, Pointer walks. He and horses don't get along. Don't worry, he can keep pace," said the mage.


"I'll take your word for it," said Mila, before patting the black fur of the hulking warg beside her. "This mangy mutt is Alagar. Don't worry, he's friendly enough. Just don't say he has fleas. He can understand every word you say, but like our elven comrade here, he can't talk either."


Alagar padded forward to sniff the mage and the elf. His head was three times the size of the mage's, but to Kalliya and Pointer's credit, neither flinched as his black, brindled muzzle swung past their faces. The huge warg carefully sized up both figures with his golden eyes before dipping his head slightly to them and stepping back beside Mila.


"Well, as I said, it's a long way to the eastern reaches. I guess we'll all get better acquainted on the road," said Mila as she reached to pull herself into the comfortable saddle on Alagar's back.


"Indeed," agreed Kalliya as she mounted her horse. "We'd best be off."


Mila didn't learn much about the strange pair she travelled with as they journeyed eastwards through the mountains. For the two week journey the elf was completely silent; not just for lack of a tongue - even while he loped along beside the two mounted women his footsteps made no sound and nary a jingle could be heard from his equipment. Kalliya seemed happy enough to talk, but the orc was unable to pry any profound information from the dark skinned human. Mila learned that Kalliya came from Baruch, far to the south and west, where the Sand Sea encroached upon the foothills of the Shrouded Mountains, and that she worked for a Baruchian wizard who was studying tribal artifacts. Pointer was apparently this wizard's manservant, but how he came to lose his tongue the mage claimed to have no idea. The warg-rider shared what details about her life the mage enquired of in return - her parents had been hunters of the Greenrock tribe, she had left the tribe after her parents' deaths with Alagar, her father's mount, as company, and had been living the life of a freebooter ever since. She'd journeyed as far as Drasich to the west, delved deep into the eastern reaches, had gazed out over the sand sea to the south and had travelled north across the steppes until she'd come up against the Shield Wall Mountains and the driving arctic winds that cascaded down their slopes. Now she called Top Town her home in the rare moments she wasn't on the road for work or wanderlust.


Most nights on the way to the edge of the reaches they had been able to find an inn, but as they journeyed further east the inns became increasingly rare and they'd had to unfurl their bedrolls in what sheltered nooks they could find beside the road. They took turns keeping watch at night; nearer to Top Town bandits would know to keep their distance from a well armed party, to say the least of one accompanied by a warg, but they were now nearly two weeks from the mountain city and there were other threats more fearsome than bandits to be wary of. Fellow travellers had been a few merchants and their guards, the occasional farmer or miner and one party of rowdy dwarves who had rampaged through Mila's coin purse in a poorly played game of liar's dice. It had been hard to focus on the dice while a handsome dwarf with a particularly girthy cock had a hand down her trousers, but the post game entertainment had made it almost worth the small fortune the gambling midgets had walked off with.


Mila found herself fondly remembering the amorous dwarf's attentions as she kept watch that night. Tomorrow they would descend to the bridge that marked the edge of the eastern reaches and the jagged rocky mountains would give way to the jumbled, wooded foothills. Once in the reaches, she'd have to be on her toes at all times, but tonight, mind lingering on the last proper fucking she'd gotten, she let her hand wander down and under her belt to gently massage her clit. A glance over her shoulder showed her the other two were fast asleep; Kalliya snoring gently and the deep breaths emerging from Pointer the loudest noise she'd heard him make in nearly two weeks. Quietly she undid her belt and the laces of her trousers, peeling back the black leather to provide her fingers better access to her nethers.


Dwarven cocks were built like their owners - not very long, but wide and stout, and the orc's pussy grew damp as she remembered how that handsome dwarf had properly stretched out her cunny when she sat down on his shaft. Grinning at the memory, Mila slid a finger deep into her exposed quim while she mashed the heel of her palm against her erect clit. She closed her eyes in pleasure, only to snap them open a moment later when she sensed a shadow crossing over her. Her surprise turned to embarrassment when she was greeted with the sight of Alagar standing beside her, one eyebrow raised in query.


"Oh fuck," she whispered, "It's just a little fun before we really get into the shit tomorrow. Don't judge."


The warg snorted quietly.


"C'mon, help me keep watch while I crank one out," pleaded Mila.


In response, the huge, furred beast turned a circle behind her before lying down between her and the fire with his belly against her lower back.


"Good boy," she whispered, sliding forward until she was reclining with her head on the warg's chest. She pulled her pants down until her butt was bare and resting on the ground, splaying her legs as best she could, and started massaging her pleasure button at a more frantic pace.


After a few minutes trying to grind an orgasm out of her needy quim, the orc groaned in frustration, "Balls. This isn't working."


Quietly as she could, Mila got to her feet. Attempting to make her hurried masturbation more comfortable, she pulled her boots off and shimmied out of her trousers, exposing herself from the waist down. When she bent over to pull her pants from around her ankles, she had to bite her tongue from squealing as Alagar's long, wet tongue snaked between her legs to lick its way from her mons over her taint and up to her asshole. She looked back to glare at the warg only to see his huge, red, knotted cock fully extended from its sheath and gleaming in the dull light.


"Ha. I see I'm not the only one who's a little pent up," she whispered hoarsely.


Alagar responded with another slow, slobbery lick across her labia.


"Alright, alright, but we have to be super quiet and right quick. I don't want to be caught being 'unprofessional'. And you can't fucking knot me, okay? You were in there for an hour last time."


The pantsless orc cast another anxious glance back at the sleeping forms of her comrades as she quietly dropped to her hands and knees.


"C'mon, mount up big boy," she whispered, presenting her dripping cunt to the golden eyed warg.


The huge beast noiselessly got to his feet and moved forward until his black-furred bulk was looming over her. Mila arched her back and raised her ass, pushing backwards until she felt the pointed tip of Alagar's bestial phallus caressing her pussy lips. The warg's cock felt burning hot against her and a steady trickle of clear pre-cum dripped from it. Mila bit her lower lip to prevent a moan when the beast bucked his haunches gently and two inches of his engorged, slick shaft pushed into her. Sensing her attempts to stay quiet, the warg paused, the tip of his red phallus pulsing gently inside the orc's dripping pussy.


"Alright, I'm good, keep going you randy furball," whispered Mila from her position beneath the monstrous canine.


Alagar pushed again, shifting his weight forward until the soft fur of his stomach pressed against the greenskin's back. Inexorably slowly his long, thick cock slid into her cunny, filling her with a delicious, tight, hot sensation as her pussy stretched around the warg's girthy tool. After what seemed like an eternity of burning cockmeat pushing into her, Mila felt the squishy bulge of Alagar's knot butt up against her lips. As it did whenever the hulking warg mounted her, the warg’s immense tool felt exquisite. Once again she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. This time, however, Alagar didn't pause for long and slowly he began to withdraw his shaft from the warm vice it was ensconced in. As he pulled back, Mila's sopping pussy lips clung to his veiny, red length and a long, viscous strand of his pre-cum mixed with her juices dripped from their joined organs to the ground. Once there was only a couple of inches of dick inside her, the warg pushed forwards again until his hardening knot bumped up against her clit once more. He repeated the process again and again, steadily increasing speed until he was methodically thrusting his oversized cock in and out of the orc's welcoming hole with silent gusto, producing a quiet, wet, slick noise as he humped her raised pussy.


Mila glanced backwards past the warg's braced paws, but her two compatriots were still slumbering peacefully, undisturbed by the silent yet frantic rutting that was taking place mere feet from them. The danger of being caught while getting mounted by her warg sent an illicit thrill through the orc, causing her to involuntarily clench her pussy around the engorged warg-cock humping her. Alagar let out a low, rumbling growl as she did so and Mila knew he would soon start ejeculating. She hadn't cum yet, but she wasn't worried - when Alagar's cock started spurting, she knew it wouldn't stop for a few minutes and getting filled up by that monstrous slab of a penis always pushed her over the edge. Her worry was that she wouldn't be able to stay quiet as the warg pumped his jism into her orgasming pussy.


Wouldn't that be a sight, she thought, getting caught panting and moaning in orgasm as her cunt got inseminated by a torrent of sloppy warg sperm while she was supposed to be on sentry duty.


Suddenly, the warg's huge cock pulsed, swelling to gargantuan proportions in her tunnel, and Alagar’s furred haunches shuddered. Mila felt a hot jet of liquid squirt into her as the warg’s bestial cock began ejaculating. Knowing her arms wouldn't be able to support her much longer, she dropped a shoulder to the ground, resting her cheek against the stone, and reached back between her legs to batter her fingers against her desperate clit. Alagar hilted himself in her cunny, up to his knot, and stopped thrusting vigorously, the huge bulge pressed against her cunt lips. Instead, he slowly and rhythmically pushed against her as his throbbing cock hosed a steady stream of jizz into her fuck-hole. The flood of warm liquid pulsed and spurted powerfully into her, filling the orc's cunt with a delectable warmth until her pussy overflowed and Mila felt the syrupy semen ooze out from where her labia kissed his veiny shaft and swollen knot. As it trickled over her fingers and down her arm, Mila's own orgasm crashed into her and she tensed up, biting her lip a final time as she rode it out.


As she came down from her post coital high, she realized Alagar was still cumming, inseminating her with warm waves of cock-juice that was now dripping from her overstuffed cunt to splatter on the ground in heavy dollops.


"Shit," she whispered, "we're making a fucking mess."


Alagar growled a low, satisfied rumble and continued to rhythmically flex his haunches while he unloaded his heavy, furred balls into his mate’s quim.


"Hold on old boy, I'll do this quickly," continued the orc.


In a quick, fluid motion she crawled off the warg’s turgid, jizz-spewing cock, turned, and wrapped her lips around it. Her cheeks bulged immediately as another pulse of Alagar's cum spurted from the tip of his ejaculating schlong into her mouth and Mila started swallowing quickly, trying to keep pace, while cupping a hand over her gaping pussy in an attempt to stop too much of the warg's slimy, white, pungent ejaculate from oozing out. The orgasming beast's spunk tasted sweet and salty and not at all unpleasant and Mila gulped it down as fast as she could, her free hand wrapped around the warg's slowly deflating knot, milking it gently. She continued sucking and swallowing for several minutes until the flow of musky jizz tapered off and Alagar gave another shudder and satisfied growl.


"Gods, you don't do things by half, huh big guy?" whispered Mila once the warg's cock was out of her mouth. "Keep an eye open for a moment. I gotta step away for a bit and get all your spunk out. I feel like I'm gonna burst."


The huge creature licked her cheek affectionately before sitting back on his haunches, golden eyes half closed, tongue lolling out of his maw. Leaving the warg to keep watch, Mila grabbed her boots and pants and walked a few yards into the scrub, hand still cupped tight over her cum-stuffed pussy, before squatting and letting a veritable torrent of glistening white warg cum gush from her well-used cunt. She smiled to herself as she wiped up the last ropey strands of the warm, aromatic cum and licked her fingers clean. If only every night passed so pleasantly once they entered the reaches.


With morning came more rain, and Kalliya and Mila stood in the shelter of a huge oak tree while they looked down the valley slope at the stone bridge that marked the boundary of the eastern reaches. The sides of the valley were heavily wooded; the road wound its way through the trees until it reached the edge of the river gorge and the sturdy looking bridge that spanned it. Currently occupying the women's attention were the six figures lounging against the stonework on the far side of the bridge.


"So you're sure they're bandits?" said the human mage as she hugged her cloak around her shoulders.


"No doubt about it. Their armour is a regular dog's breakfast, so they're not soldiers, and there's no reason for mercs to be sitting in the rain there. That bridge is the perfect choke point for an ambush. I'll bet there's a few more hiding in the trees on this side of the gorge," said the orc. "When Pointer gets back from scouting, I don't doubt he'll confirm my suspicions."


"What do you think we should do?"


"Well," continued Mila, "unless you feel like hiking three days out of our way to get to the next crossing or forking over most of your valuables and equipment as a tax, we're going to have to spring that trap."


"Hmm. I don't like it, but it seems there's little choice," complained Kalliya.


Alagar sniffed loudly and turned his massive head to face the scrub in front of them a moment before Pointer's black clothed form emerged from it. As the elf walked over to the two women, he wrote quickly on his slate.


8 bandits. 6 on bridge. 2 more this side hidden. 5 humans 2 goblins 1 orc.


"I knew it," said Mila. "This could suck a bit."


Pointer wiped his slate with his sleeve and scribbled down another message;


too wet for shooting. need to get in close.


Mila agreed with a nod of her head. The rain would soak exposed bowstrings, hampering any archery. The coming fight would come down to steel on steel and what magic the mage could bring to bear.


"Alright. I'll take the lead," said Mila, "Kalliya, you stick close behind me. We'll keep them talking as long as possible for Pointer to deal with the ambushers on this side of the river. Once they're dealt with, you'll need to come back us up as quick as possible."


Pointer and Kalliya both nodded.


"Oh, and one more thing," Mila added, "try and keep the orc alive. He might have some useful information about the Redtooth."


Mila and Kalliya rode towards the bridge and the waiting ambush after Pointer had disappeared amongst the trees once more. As they approached the the bridge the orc could see the lounging figures on the far side of it pick themselves up as they noticed the two riders. The bandits looked like a rough bunch to the orc - mismatched arms and armor that hadn't seen polish in weeks and an assortment of scars that would impress a goblin chirurgeon. At the mid-point of the bridge the leader of the gang of rogues stepped forward. She was a tower of a woman, clad in furs and chainmail with a wicked looking bearded axe near as tall as she was. Mila figured her to be some sort of barbarian renegade. Behind her were four more shifty looking humans and a burly orc, all armed with various hand weapons - swords, maces and axes. The warg rider was pleased to note a lack of shields among the ragtag group.


"Halt, greenie!" called out the towering barbarian, "This here's a toll bridge! It'll cost you to cross it!"


Mila hoped Pointer was every bit as quiet as he seemed to be - she could hear no sounds coming from the forest behind her and could imagine goblin archers drawing a bead on her back.


"I've been through here before - never had to pay a toll. What's it for?" she asked, trying to keep the bandit talking.


The barbarian leered maliciously and said, "Lots of real unsavoury types around. We make sure travellers are safe on these roads. Why don't you hand over, say, half your coin, your horse and that nice looking sword you're carrying there to help us do our job keeping you safe?"


"Oh, I dunno, I reckon I'd be a lot safer if I kept my sword and my gold," retorted Mila, "and my warg here has taken a liking to the horse. I'd pay you for some information, though, if you're really looking to help."


"Yeah?" the bandit leader said, looking conflicted at her demand being turned down and replaced with an offer for information. She knew she'd still have to get these irksome traveller's valuables, but curiosity momentarily got the better of her. "What kind of info are you looking for?"


Mila watched the orc bandit carefully as she posed her question, "I'm looking for the Redtooth tribe. You know anything about them?"


The bandit leader threw a furtive glance over her shoulder at her orc comrade, who looked sheepishly down at his boots, before turning back to Mila, saying, "We may know a thing or two about that tribe of greenies, but it'll cost you."


"Let me guess; half our coin, my sword and my companion's horse?"


"Yep," said the bandit, laughing.


"No deal. We'll seek them out ourselves," said Mila, "We'll just be moving on now."


"Ha! I don't think so!" bellowed the barbarian before rapping the haft of her axe on the stone of the bridge - clearly some sort of signal to the hidden goblins.


Mila scratched Alagar's ruff with one hand, loosening her buckler from her belt with her other hand. The bandit leader looked confused as a distinct lack of arrows came flying from the forest.


"Um. Was something supposed to happen?" asked Mila, smiling broadly.


"Kill these fuckers!" shouted the bandit leader in response, hefting her axe with both hands.


Alagar lurched forward as Mila drew her bastard sword from her baldric, glancing to his right when he noticed Kalliya surging past him on the back of her own mount. A strange nimbus of hazy orange light was growing to envelop both the mage and the horse as she galloped past. Mila almost called out to her to get back, but the words stuck in her throat when she saw the edge of the mage's spell collide with the bandit leader. The impact caused a cascade of sparks and sent the huge bandit reeling backwards. Kalliya galloped onward, smashing into the scrawny bandit that was charging right behind his leader. Once again the orange field burst with sparks and the smaller bandit flew to the side, his hip colliding with the low wall of the side of the bridge, the impact making him cartwheel head over heels into the gorge below the bridge. His panicked scream chased his progress downwards.


Following the path the charging mage had made, Mila swept her sword downwards as Alagar carried her past the bandit leader. The huge cutthroat only just managed to parry the heavy swing with the haft of her weapon, but was unable to respond before the warg-rider was flying past, headed straight for the next bandit. Warg and rider crashed into the next cutpurse in line, sending him sprawling on his back, arms upraised. Roaring ferociously, Alagar's jaws clamped down on the hapless man's forearm and he began shaking his limb filled maw back and forth. The man's scream drowned out the horrible cracking of bone as his arm was crushed and torn.


Leaving the warg to his current task, Mila vaulted from his back. Ahead of her, Kalliya and her force field had pushed the orc bandit up against one of the posts on the far side of the bridge. The orc was ineffectively swinging his mace at the mage, each attack producing another cascade of sparks as his weapon halted abruptly a foot away from his seemingly unarmoured target. Mila turned on her heel to face the two unengaged bandits, both of whom were rushing toward her. She caught one in the throat with her sword and turned the other's axe stroke with the iron rimmed edge of her buckler. She knew the bandit leader was rushing up behind her and so she pushed forwards under her opponent's axe to smash the iron hub of her shield into the highwayman's nose, staggering him backwards.


The barbarian's roar betrayed her proximity, permitting Mila to duck and sidestep as the big lady's fearsome axe whirled scant inches over the orc's head. From her low crouch, Mila lashed out in a wide horizontal sweep with her blade, forcing the fur-clad robber to step backwards. Using the momentary respite to her own advantage, Mila shuffled backwards as well, putting both bandits in front of her. The bandit with the broken nose clumsily swung his hand-axe down at the battle-hardened orc, but the ill-timed blow was easily evaded and Mila repaid him for his failure with a flick of her wrist that sent her sword sliding along the man's wrist, leaving a vicious, gaping wound. To her right she heard another sickening crunch and a strangled gurgle as Alagar's teeth found the throat of the bandit he had pounced.


The bandit leader was experienced enough not to get distracted by the sounds of a messy death, however, and swung her axe low at Mila's calf, forcing the orc to dance backwards again. Beside the imposing barbarian, her badly wounded companion attacked once more, holding his own axe in both hands as he tried to drive it down on Mila's head. The orc raised both buckler and sword to parry the heavy swing, her defence catching the descending weapon just below the curving axehead. While she held her opponent's weapon upright with her shield, she slid her sword down the man's upraised arms, cutting him terribly across the chest from armpit to armpit as she drew her sword back before she thrust the point deep into his stomach.


Unfortunately, the attack left Mila's right flank completely exposed. The bandit leader saw her opportunity as the orc struggled to untangle herself from her deceased opponent and swung her bearded axe back over her left shoulder, winding up to deliver a devastating blow. The strike never landed. From the middle of the large human's chest, a finely tapered point suddenly protruded as Pointer, who had been approaching noiselessly from behind, ran her through with his estoc.


As elf and orc both pulled their weapons free from their dead enemies, Mila gave the black clad thief a nod. She had seen the elf's approach and never would have made such a gamble of an attack if reinforcements hadn't been so close, but the elf had demonstrated that her trust in his abilities had not been misplaced. The two then turned to see the orc bandit, who had been struggling in vain against the magic shielded mage, throw his mace to the ground and put his hands up in surrender.


As the glowing mage, black clad thief, heavily armed orc and blood spattered warg surrounded him, he spoke, "Uh... If you let me live, I can tell you where to find the Redtooth tribe."

 

[balthazar]

An elf learns that demons can drive a hard bargain.


Chapter 6 - Dayna


The slate stones of the road were cold and slick with the slimy rain that steadily poured from the dark grey and purple clouds that filled Dayna's vision. The touch of the cool, goo-covered stone sent a shiver up her bare back. The elven mage bit her lip, wondering how it had come to this, as she raised and spread her legs, exposing her quim to the shaggy, brown furred beastman who was squatting on his digitigrade legs, stroking his long, thin cock to full hardness. Beneath the goat-like phallus, his large, furred nutsack swung heavily.


Dayna glanced around from her position on the ground to see that the beastman wasn't the only demonic creature enjoying the show. Her impish familiar Gomp had his rampant erection in hand as well and was stroking it furiously. Beside him stood another black furred beastman, leering at her naked form, as his own bestial cock throbbed and swelled in his grip. The audience was completed by the towering presence of the two female beastmen, both grinning obscenely at the mage's predicament, and the incubus and succubus sibling pair of Keira and Keiran. As Dayna's gaze fell on the incestuous demons, Keira winked a glowing orange eye at the elf while her brother, standing behind her, reached his obsidian skinned arms around his sister's torso to grope and squeeze her monumental breasts.


The elven mage's resigned sigh at her situation was cut off by a gasp as she felt the beastman between her legs prod his turgid schlong at the folds of her pussy before starting to push into her. The erotically charged display the incestuous demons had put on for the duration of the journey to Habernalle's castle had left her dripping wet and the bestial demon's cock slid into her sopping tunnel with ease. Dayna was thankful - the goat-like appearance of the beastman's cock meant it was relatively thin, but on a demon over seven feet tall, a relatively thin cock was still one that filled the elf's cunt impressively.


The tapered phallus slid exquisitely past Dayna's wet labia until the beastman's coarse pelvic fur mashed against her erect clit. The warmth radiating from the slick cockmeat and the sublime sensation of her needy quim getting finally filled caused a satisfied moan to escape the elf's lips. She flushed with embarrassment while her demonic audience cheered.


"Give em a good show, boss!" shouted Gomp.


"Darling, if you think that cock is good, you should have tried my brother's," whispered the succubus. "You missed out, my dear."


Once his member was fully entombed in the elf's sopping cunt, the goat man leaned forward, his muscled bulk looming over the mage's much smaller frame, and wrapped Dayna in a rough hug. Holding her nude body against him, he rolled to the side until Dayna was on top of him, straddling his waist, her tits mashed against his slime-slick chest and her ass raised. His black furred comrade's hooves clopped loudly on the slate flagstones and a flutter of apprehension tickled Dayna's ribs as she watched over her shoulder while the other male beastman squatted down behind her exposed ass. The black furred demon hoarked a gob of viscous spit into his mouth and lewdly let it drip into the cleft of her buttocks before smearing it over the rosebud of her anus with the swollen head of his cock.


"Aw, boss, how come you never let me in there?" jeered Gomp.


"Shut up, Gomp!" shouted Dayna as she felt the beastman start to push the pointed head of his dick past her sphincter. A strange, inhuman lust had smothered the flame of nervousness and the mage was straining to maintain her composure as her body was used to sate the carnal needs of the two bestial creatures.


As the beastman's rigid erection pushed into her anus he leaned forward and pressed his muscled chest against the slime covered skin of the elf's back. Squashed between the massive bulk of the two demon soldiers, Dayna felt burning waves of desire course through her veins. Each inch of rampant, pulsing cock-meat that slid past her sphincter and pushed into her ass sent intense tingles of pleasure radiating through her limbs. With her stomach and tits mashed against the solidly muscled torso of the demon below her and body almost crushed by the weight of the demon above her, Dayna felt used and helpless and incredibly aroused. Her body shook and shuddered as a chain of small orgasms ricocheted through it and a loud, undulating moan jumped from her mouth.


"You go, girl!" exclaimed Keira.


"Elf girl can't haaandle puny beastmaaan cock," said one of the watching female guards.


"She so tiny, squaaashed between two puny maaales," agreed the other.


The two goat-like guards began to pump their hips in unison, the coarse fur of their thighs rubbing roughly over the skin of the sandwiched elf. The sensation of their alternating strokes sawing in and out of her stuffed holes was intense. Dayna could feel their cocks rubbing against each other through the thin layer of her flesh that separated her ass and pussy. As they humped her, the elf could also feel their demonic dicks leaking a steady flow of hot, slimy pre-cum into her thoroughly filled orifices. Each thrust of their furred haunches caused another wave of pleasure to crash through her, radiating from her abused nethers out to her limbs, making her toes curl, her fingers clench and her mouth hang open. Another burst of orgasms rippled through the elf - her body, sandwiched between the rutting beasts, quivered and convulsed while her pussy and asshole, stuffed with engorged demon-cock, spasmed and contracted around the pistoning meat that was pistoning into them.


Eyes crossed as her body rocked with pleasure, Dayna didn't even notice as Gomp sidled up to her and slipped his rock-hard penis into her slack-jawed mouth. Lost to the depravity of being mated by two beastmen and the unnatural lust that was fogging her mind, the mage simply began to suck on the veiny shaft as it slipped past her lips.


"Oh, fuck, yesssss!" moaned the imp as his ostensible master began to slurp on his throbbing tool.


Behind him, Keira had arched her back, spread her legs and had guided her brother's smooth, obsidian skinned phallus into her own ass. The sibling pair lazily began fucking as they watched the elven mage get thoroughly debased.


"A shame that elf turned us down, sister dearest, but have I ever mentioned how delightful your ass feels wrapped around my cock?" queried Keiran.


"Why, I think you may have mentioned it just last time you buggered me," came the reply. "She does look like she's having fun, but nothing can compare to your perfection, my love. She doesn't know what she's missing."


The two female guards were idly fondling themselves, groping at their own pendulous breasts while massaging their clits with their clawed fingers.


"Maaay haaave to get a hellhound to service us aaafter this," said one as she tugged viciously on a pierced nipple.


On the ground at their feet, Dayna was a mess. Orgasm after orgasm pulsed through her while the two beastmen shagged her asshole and cunt vigorously. Unable to focus enough to keep sucking on the cock in her mouth, she lay limply, sandwiched and cumming incessantly, between the two heaving, muscled demons while her familiar gripped the sides of her head and fucked her mouth with short, frantic thrusts, desperate to finish before his master came out of the lust induced fog she was lost in. As he thrust his crimson skinned cock in and out of the warm, wet confines of her mouth, he looked up to see a tall, looming figure approaching through the courtyard on the other side of the portcullis. The towering form was surrounded by an entourage of relatively smaller but only slightly less imposing figures.


Realizing fun-time may soon come to an end, Gomp quickened his pace until he felt his balls tighten and his cock swell. He let out a sound halfway between a moan and a shout of glee as his thick cum surged into his master's mouth and she instinctively began to swallow it. The happy imp pulled his cock free to shoot the last few ropes of his orgasm across his master’s face and hair. The beastmen had apparently noticed the approaching figure as well, and both had quickened their pace. Even in her stupor of arousal and pleasure, Dayna could feel their bestial shafts swell and a momentous final orgasm hammered through her as both beastmen ejaculated at the same time. Spurt after spurt of hot, sloppy seed pulsed into her well-used anal passage and gaping cunt. The two goat men grunted and bellowed as their cocks erupted, both thrusting hard and fucking their cum into the elf's pleasure wracked body until ropes of pallid, glistening jizz oozed and squirted out from the narrow gaps between the skin of their pistoning shafts and her stretched sphincter and pussy-lips.


As the portcullis groaned and clanked its way upwards, the demons hurriedly clambered off the elven mage, leaving her lying on the flagstones with demonic seed dripping from her well-fucked holes. The female guards ceased their masturbation to stand at an approximation of attention. Only the siblings Keira and Keiran kept up their languid sodomy while they watched the approach of the gargantuan figure.


Feeling like she'd just cum a thousand times over, Dayna groggily looked up from the slimy slate road upon which she lay. Her eyes slowly travelled upwards, taking in a massive pair of black hooves, more digitigrade, black scaled legs, the swinging, flared head of a hose-like horse cock backed by two coconut sized gonads, the chiseled, shiny black skin of a set of statuesque abs, two hugely muscled arms folded across a pair of broad, black skinned bulging pectorals, a corded column of a neck and the most gorgeous male visage she had ever laid eyes upon. Two glowing blue eyes looked down upon her, set on either side of a slightly hooked, noble nose and surmounted by a brow that screamed of a wiseness beyond years. Flowing white locks from which a pair of curling black goat horns protruded framed the handsome face.


Duke Habernalle had arrived. He smiled down at the cum-drenched elf at his feet.


“May I present Dayna Undreya Te’alor, mage of Drasich, your majesty,” Gomp managed to get the whole sentence out before collapsing into gales of laughter. He knew he’d pay for it later, but couldn’t help himself.


The elven mage picked herself up and bowed deeply to the Duke of Hell, hair still plastered to her neck with slime-rain and her familiar’s ejaculate while a steady trickle of beastman discharge oozed from her ass and pussy.


“Uh, greetings, your highness,” said Dayna, “you seem to have caught me in a somewhat unpresentable state. If you don’t mind, m'lord, I would like to cast a small spell to clean myself up and put my clothes back on. Your guards demanded a steep entry fee.”


“Dayna? We have met before, I believe. Twelve years ago, I think,” said the duke, pleasantly, “Of course, make yourself comfortable, but don’t do anything on my account - I find your current appearance quite… delectable.”


“All the same, sir, I would feel more at ease once cleaned and clothed,” said the mage as she weaved a small cantrip that cleaned and dried her hair and skin. She then turned to face Gomp.


“My clothes, you little shit.”


The imp ceased his laughter and retrieved his boss’ clothing from the small handcart while attempting and failing to look contrite. Once she had covered herself and regained her composure, she turned to face the imposing duke again.


“Well, Dayna, what can a lowly Duke of Hell do for you?” said the duke in his rich, deep voice.


“I was hoping we could talk, m’lord. I had some questions I think you may be able to answer.”


“Of course - you have paid enthusiastically for an audience, I cannot refuse. Please, let us retire indoors and out of this ghastly rain,” said Habernalle as he turned to lead the group across the courtyard.


Dayna followed the cloven hoofed behemoth, surrounded by his hellish entourage, while Gomp dragged the cart along behind her. The beastmen guards returned to their posts at the gate and Keira and Keiran hovered along, wings flapping lazily, beside the duke’s group, the incubus’ cock still buried in his sister’s voluminous backside. The walk across the courtyard provided Dayna with an opportunity to examine the myriad collection of demons that made up the Duke’s court; incubi and succubi of varying appearance walked and flew around her - all naked, all dripping with overripe sexuality, while large hellhounds stalked ahead of the group, some on four legs, some on six, some scaled, some furred, a few with multiple heads. Faint flickers of flame licked from their maws and their tails lashed slowly through the air. Flanking the duke walked what Dayna took to be his bodyguards; four giant sized grigori - demons of war with faces that bore no features but for two unblinking eyes, human in form but ten feet tall with skin that was grey and textured as stone. The copulating twins that hovered beside Dayna were not alone in their wanton display - many of the gathered beings were engaged in obscene displays of lust and fornication. In the courtyard itself were numerous other lusty demons - one corner was occupied by a writhing mass of imps that were currently swarming over a couple of female beastmen, their oversized cocks pumping into any available hole or crevice, while in another corner a few satyrs indolently lounged, swilling wine from perversely huge goblets as a rakshasi, tiger striped fur gleaming wetly in the slimy rain, lapped at their immense, exposed shafts with her cat-like tongue. From one of the many windows looking into the square leaned a nagi, peering with curiosity at the procession, her large, white scaled breasts jiggling to the rhythm of something unseen within the keep thumping into her rear. The air reeked of lust and sex and Dayna’s pussy tingled as she felt another gob of demonic spunk ooze from her anus.


The keep’s black iron doors were swung inwards by two serpentine naga guards to reveal a hall of truly immense proportions. Wide grey and white marbled columns stretched from floor to lofty ceiling, each adorned with red velvet drapery fringed in golden tassels. A lush, deep crimson carpet that matched the hanging drapes was laid out from the door to a dais surmounted by an imposing throne at the other end of the magnificent hall. Behind the pillars flanking the main procession were more towering columns and Dayna could only just make out the walls of the massive room in the dim light cast by tremendous gilded chandeliers that hung high from the vaulted ceiling. In every direction were scattered clusters of various comfortable looking couches, chairs, chaise-longues and mounds of pillows upon which an entire bestiary of demon-kind lounged, talking, observing and fucking in equal measure.


As the group approached the throne, the various members and hangers-on of the Duke’s entourage peeled off until only Habernalle, his four grigori, Dayna and her party remained. Habernalle sprawled comfortably across the immense throne, propping his chin against a balled fist while a comfortable chair was brought over by two imps for the elven mage to sit upon. The grigori took up flanking posts at the corners of the dais, their stoic demeanor unchanged. The succubus Keira lay down on her side against the carpeted steps of the platform with Keiran behind her, his arm draped over his sister’s hourglass waist, hand nonchalantly groping a tit. The twin demons casually continued to rut, the succubus moaning quietly and the incubus grunting softly, as they observed the proceedings. Gomp stood beside Dayna’s chair, his eyes darting as he took in the magnificence of his surroundings and the deliciously perverse performances of the inhabitants.


Once Dayna was seated, the duke addressed her, “It is truly a pleasure to have a visitor. Can I get you anything? Food? Drink? An imp to service you?”


“Thank you, m’lord,” replied the mage as she strove to ignore the desire that was rising once more in her loins, “but I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”


“Please, none of this m’lord business. I try to run an informal court,” smiled the duke, “call me Habernalle.”


“Of course, Habernalle,” continued Dayna. “As I’m sure you know, I’m an avid student of the realms and those that dwell within-”


“I could tell by that little display at the gatehouse,” said Habernalle, grinning salaciously.


“Yes, ahem, well, back at the university we have heard of… changes, shall we say, occurring within the realms. I was wondering if you could tell me more about what’s going on. I’m writing a dissertation on the politics of the realms, you see,” explained Dayna.


“Are we the subject of a research paper?” the duke scoffed, and a chuckle broke out among the nearby demons. “You have visited the realms before, you know how this works - what do you offer in trade for this information?”


“I paid the toll to your guards, was that-”


“You paid for an audience and you have one now,” interrupted the Duke. “Now you ask for more. This requires further payment.”


Dayna turned to rummage through the cart, “I have items of power-”


“I need none of your petty trinkets… no, there’s something else you may offer that I would have,” murmured the Duke, his eyes travelling the length of the elven mage’s body as she turned to face the throne.


The elf’s eyes fell on the monstrous phallus resting half-hard between the demon’s thighs. As wide and as long as a warrior’s arm, even as she observed it the flared, horse-like cock pulsed and throbbed as it hardened. The elf’s quim moistened at the sight.


“Habernalle... I’m flattered... but surely there are others in your court more… capable… of satiating you?”


“It has been an age since I tasted a mortal’s garden,” said the demon lord, voice dripping honey, “Lend me yours and I shall tell you what you need to know.”


Dayna was sorely tempted. Desire flooded her body and clouded her mind like an intoxicating fog. Her words slipped from her mouth haltingly, “It… will… never… fit…”


The Duke of Hell reached hand hand out to the elven mage and Dayna’s feet unconsciously stepped toward the throne.


Habernalle’s voice caressed her ears, “I live in lust and dwell in desire - just a taste of me will give you the ability to experience what you crave. In exchange, the knowledge you seek awaits.”


The mage’s feet had betrayed her and she found herself reaching out to the offered hand. The Duke drew her towards him until his engorged length throbbed before her eyes. A bead of clear pre-cum oozed from the tip of the tumescent shaft and Dayna leaned towards it, lips parted. The elf reached out with her tongue to tentatively taste the Duke’s immense organ.


As her tongue made contact with heavy drop of liquid a strange shiver passed through the mage’s body, travelling from her tongue down her spine to tingle in her arse and cunt. Dayna reached up to grip the Duke’s veiny shaft with both hands, her fingers barely able to wrap around the girthy cock. Hefting the weighty slab to her lips, the elf stretched her mouth across the demon’s wide flare and slathered her tongue across the smooth surface. The wide cock-head was too large to fit in her mouth but the mage continued to caress and tease the mighty organ with her lips as she worked the shaft with both hands. She was rewarded for her efforts as a steady trickle of sweet pre-cum pumped languidly into her mouth.


Behind the fellating elf, Keiran watched through half closed eyes while he continued to sodomize his panting sister. Gomp, eyes wide as saucers, had begun masturbating once more and the varied demons that made up the Duke’s court had fallen into a debauched orgy. Only the grigori stood motionless, dutifully guarding their lord.


“You do well, sweet mortal,” murmured the Duke, “My magic should have achieved the desired effect. Take a seat and ask your questions.”


Dayna released the mammoth member from her grasp with a small pang of regret and got to her feet. With a lust driven urgency she pulled off her hose and tunic, revealing her lean, naked body once more to Habernalle’s gaze. Her pert breasts were flushed with arousal, her nipples were hard and erect and her pussy dripped noticeably. Stepping towards the enthroned lord of hell, she let herself be lifted up by his muscular arms until he was holding her above his broad, trunk-like penis. Then, with exquisite slowness, Habernalle lowered the mage’s drenched quim onto his cock. As her cunt lips were parted by the demon lord’s wide flare, Dayna felt the strange tingling in her nethers once more. She looked down and gasped with surprise and pleasure as she saw the immense column of the demon’s phallus begin to slide into her - she felt no discomfort, only incredible satisfaction as her cunny stretched to accept the intrusion despite the apparent physical impossibility of the act. Sweat beaded on her skin as a flame of lust licked through her body.


As his tremendous column of a cock inched into her, Habernalle spoke; “Your wards are impressive, mage, but they seek to protect your body from harm and your mind from charms. I have other tools at my disposal. I could fuck you until you beg me to take your soul for just one more orgasm.”


Slowly but surely, Dayna slid further down the demonic pole until, by any natural accounting, the shaft should have been pushing against her stomach, but still the elven mage felt no discomfort, only a delectable feeling of stretched fullness. She folded her legs beneath her, resting her shins on the demon’s thighs once the rampant tool was fully sheathed inside her. Dayna had enjoyed a few very good fucks in her time, but the sensation she was experiencing at this moment was unlike anything in the world. Her whole body throbbed in time with the blood pumping in the monumental phallus that was filling her so completely and an almost gentle, full body, low intensity orgasm seeped through her veins.


A distant, guarded part of her consciousness, a bastion of will created through years of magical study, nudged her, helping the mage to retain some semblance of control and reminding her of her original mission.


“I have studied demons for many years. You’ll not take me that easily,” said the elf as she placed her hands against the broad pecs of the demon lord to give herself some leverage while she began to hump herself up and down the thick shaft embedded in her needy pussy, “Delicious -ah- cock that -ah- you may -ah- have, you agreed -ah- to answer -ah- some of my -ah- questions.”


“How remarkable,” said Habernalle, a twinkle in his eyes betraying his marvel at the sweating mage’s willpower. “Indeed I did. Very well, ask away.”


“Who’s behind -ah- this shift in -ahhh- power?”


Dayna’s stuffed cunt creamed itself as the perpetual orgasm coursing through her momentarily increased in intensity. Her sloppy white discharge oozed from her stretched lips and slid down the column of cock-meat that she was mounting.


As the mage’s cunny spasmed in orgasm around his colossal shaft, Habernalle reached his hands behind her to grip the elf’s asscheeks in his giant hands. His palms were bigger than each cheek and enveloped the mage’s pert buttocks entirely, his fingers long enough to wrap around her upper thighs. As he groped her spread ass, the Duke slid forward on his throne until he was half off the seat of the massive piece of furniture. Dayna leaned forward against the demon’s chiseled abs, her head resting just under his chin and her tits pressed to his chest. From his new position, Habernalle began to thrust upwards into the elf’s juicy cunt and a wet squelching noise filled the air in time with his movements as more cream was squeezed from Dayna’s stretched hole.


“A new faction has arisen in the inner and outer realms,” explained Habernalle as he effortlessly plowed his tumescent member in and out of the elf’s pleasure wracked body. “A succubus by the name of Gaermeon recently achieved the status of duke, and seems to be in the process of striving for princehood.”


“I thought -ah- that elevation -ah- to princedom -ah- happened -ah- incrementally,” said Dayna, trying not to drool on the Duke’s chest as she was thoroughly fucked.


“It does, generally,” said Habernalle, his thrusting increasing in speed. More cream oozed from the mage’s stretched pussy. “Collecting souls is a slow process - personal attention is required. Gaermeon, however, claims to have discovered a method by which she can claim souls in bulk, to put in unrefined terms. The Princes, although they wouldn’t want anyone to know, are worried.”


Dayna moaned as another orgasm rollicked through her, “How would -ah- she be -ah- able to -ah- do such -ahhh- a thing?”


The orgasming elf’s pussy clamped down on the demon lord’s phallus once more and Habernalle’s chest rumbled with a satisfied moan.


“One moment, my dear,” he said, and suddenly Dayna felt his cock swell to stretch her cunt even more before a powerful jet of demonic spunk erupted into it.


The forceful spurts of jism blasted another orgasm into the already almost insensible elf. Hot, sticky cream filled her completely until it squirted past her tautly spread lips to arc through the air and splatter onto the floor. A delicious warmth nestled deep into her core and Dayna gasped with the overwhelming pleasure of the sensation. Habernalle held the quivering elf tightly to his chest, massive hands gripping her clenching ass, as he slowly pumped his behemoth of a cock in and out of her cunt while he inseminated her. After what felt like an eternity, the flow of cum pouring into her finally tapered off and Dayna felt Habernalle lift her off his lap as he got to his feet. A torrent of jizz gushed from her gaping orifice with a sloppy splattering noise as the lord of hell pulled the insensate elf off his still rigid tool.


Habernalle gently placed Dayna on ground and the elf stood woozily as the huge demon lazily stretched. His immense, erect organ bobbed in front of him as he spread his arms and arched his back. With groggy eyes, the mage glanced around the hall. Gomp was slumped against her small chair, hand still wrapped around his own rampant erection, stroking it wearily. A sticky puddle between his spread legs told of numerous orgasms. Nearby, Keira and Keiran were still steadily fucking, the incubus now lying on his back, arms behind his head while his twin sister bounced her ass upon his glorious cock. Both were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Beyond them the rest of the court were still engaged in their own lewd displays of lust.


Having finished stretching, Habernalle stooped to pick up the cum-drunk mage once more, putting her down on the seat of his throne so that she had her back to the hall. She leaned forward, supporting herself by putting her arms out against the back of the giant chair. The Duke wrapped his immense hands around her waist, easily engulfing the relatively petite elf. Dayna felt the solid mass of his cockhead, slick with his seed, poke against her buttocks.


“You wondered how Gaermeon would be able to collect souls en masse?” asked the Duke as he pushed his gargantuan member against the elf’s sphincter. “She didn’t care to explain all the details to me when she showed up at my door offering an alliance. To be honest, I expect the twins you came in with would be able to tell you, considering they work for her.”


Dayna gasped when she felt the tingling sensation once more, this time in her anus, as Habernalle’s wide dick pushed past her sphincter. Once again her body defied physics as the tree-trunk of a cock penetrated her ass and once again she was filled with an incredible sense of satisfaction.


From behind her there was a surprised, wet pop as Keiran’s cock slid free from his sister’s suddenly clenched anus.


“Uh. What? I assure you-” blurted the incubus.


“Oh, don’t insult me by trying to deny it,” interrupted Habernalle, not bothering to cease his gradual penetration of Dayna’s tight asshole to face the surprised twins. “I can smell the taint of her sex dripping off the both of you.”


The twins quickly clambered to their feet. Beside the Duke’s throne, the eyes of his grigori bodyguards began to glow brightly.


“My lord, you must excuse us,” began Keiran.


“We only were present in your realm in case you changed your mind about the offer of alliance,” continued Keira, the siblings’ words tumbling from their lips in nervous haste.


“Yes, yes, I’m sure,” said Habernalle, steadily pushing his shaft further into the mage’s welcoming rear. “Tell Gaermeon to keep her spies at home if she really wants me to consider joining her effort, mmkay?”


Habernalle’s obscenely huge phallus was now fully seated in the elven mage’s ass. Legs spread, hands splayed against the throne’s back for support, Dayna looked over her shoulder at the towering demon. He smiled down at her and began to hump his weighty schlong in and out of her sphincter. Behind the fornicating pair, the grigori stepped forward in unison toward the twins, who began backing away from the throne.


“Come, sister, the kind duke appears to be showing us the door,” murmured Keiran.


“Indeed, brother. We must tell Gaermeon how well he treated us,” agreed Keira.


The grigori took another step forward, causing the twins to back away hurriedly. Halfway down the red carpet, with the grigori close behind them, they both bowed quickly before turning and scurrying urgently for the door. Their exit from the throne-room was greeted by a chorus of laughter from the watching demon court.
 
“I do so enjoy spoiling the machinations of a self-important upstart like Gaermeon. Thank you for providing me the opportunity,” said Habernalle, casually pumping his thick cock in and out of the elf’s asshole.


“You’re -ah- welcome,” said Dayna between grunts as her ass was rhythmically fucked, “but -ah- you were -ah- explaining -ah- how Gaer-ah-meon would -ah- acquire -ah- these souls?”


As the Duke of Hell buggered her with steady, powerful strokes, the mage had to dip into her fortress of willpower once again to maintain her sense of purpose. The feeling of her sphincter stretched around the demon’s veiny shaft as it plowed in and out of her ass was beyond exquisite and her cunny clenched, achingly empty, as another orgasm engulfed her. She could feel the demon’s heavy, smooth balls slap against her gasping cunt and her anus pulsed and squeezed down on the slab of dick-meat inside it in sympathetic rhythm.


“All the succubus mentioned was something about an artifact of old, belonging to that empire that once ruled over much of your world,” said the Duke while his bestial cock was milked by Dayna’s stuffed ass. “Run by elves like you, was it not?”


“Elves and -ah- humans -ah-, but that -ah- was before -ah- my time,” said Dayna. Inside her buttocks, Habernalle’s flared phallus began to throb and pulse as it prepared to deposit another load of jism, this time into the mage’s bowels.


The Duke seemed indifferent to his approaching orgasm and maintained his steady, ass-slapping thrusts. His voice was level and calm as he spoke; “To be honest, I expected an entourage of representatives from the city-states of your world - representatives of governments, powerful people representing powerful institutions, not some lowly graduate student.”


Suddenly, Dayna’s insides were filled with warmth as Habernalle began to ejaculate into the buttery vice of her ass. His immense tool quivered and pulsed as it spurted an obscene amount of cum into her tight hole until, once she was thoroughly stuffed with the sloppy white goo, it squeezed out past the Duke’s still pistoning member and oozed down her spread legs. The demon lord tightened his grip on Dayna’s butt-cheeks as he fucked his semen into her.


“Delightful,” said the massive demon, as if admiring a fine wine. With deliberate slowness he pulled his spent schlong from the elf’s rump. There was an audible pop when his flare finally squeezed out of her cum-dripping sphincter. “Lowly student you may be, you have provided some most enjoyable entertainment and demonstrated impressive determination. I think I have a gift for you that may help your efforts against Gaermeon.”


Dayna stood on shaky, cum-streaked legs, still braced against the back of the throne. Her well-used asshole gaped and dripped with demonic seed.


“Why would you offer aid without a promise of something in return?”


“You are right to distrust a demon, but, although you have a strong will, I am dubious of your chances of success against Gaermeon’s schemes. Upstart though she may be, she is still a Duke of Hell,” explained Habernalle. “Should you triumph, however, the current Princes are sure to look favorably upon one who aided in the downfall of the usurper. If you fail, as is likely, that alliance is still on the table for me.”


“You win either way,” said Dayna drily as she dismounted the throne.


“It’s the only way to play the game of power, dear elf.”


Gomp was still slumped, in a post-orgasmic daze, beside the chair that had originally been brought for Dayna. The mage moved to stand beside him, casting her cleaning cantrip once more before retrieving her clothes. As she did so, Habernalle summoned an imp to his side while, behind him, a group of succubi had gathered to lick his throne clean of his discharge. The Duke spoke quietly to the imp before sending it off to retrieve the gift he had in mind and then sat down on his now spit-polished throne.


By the time Dayna was clean and dressed, the imp had returned. He carried before him a small obsidian box with a hinged lid that he presented with a small flourish to the now seated elf. Gomp groggily got to his feet to peer at the gift offered to his master.


“Go ahead, open it,” said the Duke, smiling. “When you find what you are looking for, this should help you get where you need to be in a timely manner, provided you treat it properly.”


Inside the box, lying on a red, satin cushion, was an intricate miniature of a horse, seemingly carved from black crystal. It had what appeared to be fire in the place of a mane and tail, more flames instead of fur over its hooves, tiny red orbs for eyes and, as intricately carved as the rest of it, a rampantly erect, flared horsecock.


Beside Dayna, Gomp’s face split from ear to ear in a huge, gleeful grin as his eyes darted from the statue to his master’s unimpressed expression.

 

[balthazar]

Mirror, mirror, on the wall.


Chapter 7 - Bann


The steppes stretched ahead of Bann like an emerald green sea rippled with undulating hills until the grassy waves of the prairie broke upon the far distant mountains of the Shrouded Mountains. Like an island in the midst of the vast green ocean, the host had set up camp to await the arrival of their allies. The young barbarian was standing on the tallest of the hills surrounding the camp, keeping an eye to the horizon for the approach of more warbands seeking to join the host.


Gunnar Long Arm had been busy, thought Bann, as he watched a cloud of dust to the east that signalled the approach of more troops marching towards the encampment. The warhost had already been joined by a few hundred warriors from the Shield Wall troll families; Bann had never seen a troll before and was fascinated by their appearance. They were tall - an adult troll tended to be at least seven feet tall, most were eight feet or taller. Their skin was smooth and grey, like river-polished granite, except for a smattering of darker patches that checkered their upper arms and shoulders, and every troll rippled with muscles. The only hair on their bodies was a metallic shock of color on top of their heads that was either shaved, cut very short, or spiked into fantastic shapes. Their faces were humanoid but for two huge incisors on their lower jaws that matched the metallic colour of their hair and gave them a pronounced underbite and a perpetually grim expression. They walked with a lumbering gait, each heavy footfall hinting at an immense weight and power. None of the large humanoids wore a stitch of clothing or armour, their skin supposedly being as tough as stone, and Bann had learned that they paid no heed to the northern cold because their flesh was not heated by warm blood in the same way most other species were. The male trolls strode about the camp like behemoths carved from the very mountain they called home, their exposed strange, heavy, blunt cocks swinging proudly between their legs. Their huge endowments had made them quite popular among the female warriors of the gathered races despite the stoic silence they carried themselves with. The troll women were no less imposing - there was seemingly no height difference between the sexes, nor in the weight of muscle they carried. They had a striking beauty despite the alien cast to their features and their pronounced musculature and voluptuous curves lent them a statuesque quality that amplified their imposing presence.


A flock of harpies had joined the warhost as well. They were all female, with humanoid torsos, arms, faces and upper legs, but from the knee down their legs were digitigrade and birdlike, ending in prehensile talons. Each harpy had a magnificent pair of wings sprouting from their shoulder blades and they delighted in their ability to fly, finding employ as messengers and merchants across the north. Harpies were popular visitors to almost any settlement not just because of the jobs they performed but because, thanks the the peculiarity of their biology, they could be impregnated by almost any male - another harpy hatching from the egg that was subsequently laid. Due to this unique physiology, harpies were happy to breed with anyone, as Bann had happily experienced a year ago when his village had last played host to the aerial visitors. The newly arrived feathered comrades quickly settled in and found a niche for themselves within the warhost.


Bann heard the sound of galloping hooves behind him and turned to see the centaur filly Cress running up the hill towards him. He had not been the only liaison picked by Lisbet; the young queen had introduced him to three others on the day the warhost had departed. The small group consisted of Freida, an imposing, brown furred veteran minotaur warrior from the Von Danz herd (who weren’t members of the Northern Alliance but had a pact with the clans nonetheless), Jord, a lean, scarred centaur stallion with a dappled grey hide, and Cress, a cheerful, young centaur spear maiden. Jord had gone with Lisbet when she departed and Freida had travelled west to link up with her herd-warriors as they marched to join the host, leaving Cress and Bann as the Queen’s designated messengers in the army.


A warrior of the Rolling Rock herd, Cress was the same age as Bann. She was good with a bow and beyond good with a spear, at least according to the ceaseless tales of boar and deer hunts she rambled on about. She had very pale white skin that contrasted sharply with the pitch black glossy coat of her lower body. Her long black hair framed her thin face and pointed chin nicely when it wasn’t blowing into her eyes in the prairie breeze. Cress was a talker and happily filled their marching hours with endless chatter, gossip and tall tales and, while Bann was not the most talkative individual and certainly appreciated a little quiet time now and then, he found it difficult not to become friends with the gregarious filly.


“There you are!” exclaimed the centaur by way of greeting. “Came to tell you that Freida and her herd-warriors just got into camp. Pretty impressive looking bunch if you ask me. Big folk, them minotaurs. Should see the crossbows some of em are carrying - you’d think they’d need a cart to drag that stuff about but they’re just strolling about with what’s pretty much a siege weapon over their shoulders. Those bulls are huge! And the cows aren’t small either. Hard to believe they grow em that big just by eating veggies! Can you imagine not eating meat? I’d waste away, I bet. And you miss out on hunting! I’ll bet them bulls are hung though, vegetarian or not. Hard to say, though, cos they don’t walk around naked like the stone-folk. Gotta see if I can take a peek one of these-”


“How many warriors did she bring?” interrupted Bann. It was the only way to speak with Cress. If you didn’t interrupt her the young warrior tended to keep on with her stream of consciousness interminably.


“Oh, there was probably about three hundred of em, but supposedly there’s another few hundred coming from the Von Bothe herd,” said Cress. “Let’s see, with the trolls and harpies that brings us up to about three thousand, maybe a few more. There’s probably at least a thousand gobbos over there, though.”


The centaur nodded her head in the direction of the approaching dust cloud and Bann knew she was right. The approaching warband hailed from the Bolenduntz tribe and goblin warbands were never small. By the time the warhost reached the Shrouded Mountains it would number at least four thousand strong, and Gunnar had mentioned he expected another few thousand warriors of the orc and goblin tribes to join them once they were far enough south. Drasich and the free cities would be facing an army of almost ten thousand warriors.


“Looks like they’re still at least an hour away,” said the filly, unlacing her leather jerkin. “I think I know how we can kill some time…”


That night, the camp was a sea of rowdy joviality. Bann wound his way through a maze of tents and campfires, attempting to get back to the large tent he shared with the other messengers. Cress tottered along beside him, occasionally peeling off to fill her mug from the nearest available barrel. The young barbarian had a few drinks in him already, but had held back knowing he had to write a dispatch for Queen Lisbet to update her on the status of the warhost.


He was a little worried about writing the report, not just because he wasn’t really a dab hand with charcoal and paper but because the young queen had set another task for him before she left and he still had yet to produce anything worthwhile with regards to it. On the eve of her departure, Lisbet had taken Cress and Bann aside and had confided that she worried about the mysterious nature of the shaman that Gunnar Long Arm relied so much on. She had asked the two young warriors to find out as much as they could, but had placed much of the responsibility on Bann, as centaurs, their physiology being what it was, were not the most stealthy of spies. Although he had been with the warhost for almost a week, he still had found no opportunity to even see what the mysterious shaman looked like. Gunnar visited his advisor’s wagon almost every night, but the wagon was always guarded by a few veteran fighters and the shaman never seemed to emerge.


Bann was mulling the problem over as he and Cress reached the liaisons’ tent. Freida gave the pair a wave as they neared the small campfire outside the tent. The hazel furred minotaur cow was leaning against a large barrel beside a grey furred bull. A few sheaves of corn were roasting on the nearby flames.


“Vill you join us for a drink?” asked Freida in her accented speech.


“You guys go ahead,” replied Bann. “I’ve got some work to do.”


Dropping his shield and axe beside his bedroll in the tent, Bann left Cress and Freida by the fire and made his way towards the shaman’s wagon. He could see the bulky outline of the wooden contraption from his own tent - it was a huge affair, pulled by sixteen oxen. Two stories tall, the wagon permitted the shaman to travel in some comfort. The young barbarian paused beside a tent to examine the scene before him; two burly soldiers stood near the door at the rear of the wagon while two more patrolled in circles around the perimeter. A campfire and some benches were laid out a short way from the fold-down steps that led up to the wagon’s entrance, but Bann knew they were for the benefit of the guards - the shaman never seemed to emerge from within the wooden behemoth. Both floors of the wagon had many windows, but all were shuttered, although he could see the rosy glow of firelight creeping out from between the cracks where the shutters met.


Bann heard the soft thud of hooves on grass and turned to see Cress coming up behind him, a foaming flagon in one hand.


“I thought you’d be getting drunk with Freida and her friend back at the tent,” said Bann.


“Yeah, it was tempting, but I can’t just leave you to go be a super secret spy all by yourself,” said Cress. “Besides, you’d get yourself into trouble without me around and I wouldn’t want to miss out on the fun. So… What’s your plan?”


“I dunno. I guess I gotta get close to the wagon and listen at a window. I’m not sure how I’ll get up to a window without being seen by one of those guards, though.”


“Hmmmm…” said the centaur through lips pursed in thought, “I might be able to help with that. I’ll see if I can distract one of the patrolling guards for a minute. When they’re busy, try and slip past before the other one comes by. You’ll have to get away on your own though. I don’t think I could distract them again without it looking weird.”


“Alright,” said Bann, sighing. “Why does this seem like a really bad idea?”


“I think it’s really exciting! Ok, here I go!”


The young warrior shook his head in worry as he watched Cress trot towards one of the patrolling guards. The veteran soldier called out a challenge and in no time the chatty filly had his full attention as she began playing the role of a drunk young warrior in awe of the tough looking trooper. Seizing the opportunity, Bann casually sauntered around the gabbing pair until he was out of sight of the pre-occupied veteran and then, hunching slightly, he jogged over to the side of the tall caravan until he was crouched beside one of the ten foot wheels. With a glance back at the Cress and the guard to make sure he was in the clear, the barbarian hoisted himself up the spokes of the wheel. Bann was an adept climber thanks to a youth spent scaling the rocky slopes of the mountains surrounding Koltar and easily lifted himself until his feet were able to find purchase on a slightly protruding board that comprised part of the exterior wall of the wagon. Fingers gripping tightly to the ledge of the nearest window, the barbarian peered between the shutters.


The inside of the wagon was plush. Velvet upholstered chairs and large cushions were scattered upon a mosaic of thick fur rugs and ornate carpets. A large double bed was situated against the far wall and a number of candles flickered in various ornate candelabras and candlesticks that perched on the rich, dark wood tables and sideboards. Near the entrance, a set of stairs, ornately carved out of more of the dark wood, led upwards to the second floor. As he soaked in the luxurious display, Bann could hear a low, continuous murmuring emanating from the upper floor. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed that Cress was wandering away from the wagon and the guard she had been talking to was resuming his patrol. As silently as he could manage, the young warrior began to climb higher.


Once more, Bann’s climbing experience paid off and he ably clambered upwards until he was level with the second story windows. Flattening himself against the wall, the novice spy shimmied sideways until he could grip the window frame and pull himself close enough to the shutters to peer inside. The sight that greeted him caused him to bite his lower lip to stifle a gasp.


The second floor decor was just as lush as the first floor - ornate rugs and furs blanketed the righthand half of the floor, but what really caught the young warrior’s eye was the floor to ceiling mirror that hung on the wall on the lefthand wall. While the candelabras and other metal furnishings had been gilt in bronze, gold or glittering silver, the mirror was framed in a black metal, almost like wrought iron were the surface not polished and shining dully in the flickering light. Concentric circles, their edges marked with strange, rune-like symbols, had been chalked onto the bare wooden floor before the mirror and sitting in the centre of the strange markings was the nude form of a beautiful woman that Bann figured must be Gunnar’s shaman.


The woman had a voluptuous body; a narrow waist complimented by ample hips and heavy round breasts. She had beautiful dusky skin - light walnut brown and smooth like polished oak but lacking the muscle definition of a trained warrior or manual labourer. Her hair was dark black and hung in long tresses past her shoulders. The mysterious woman was kneeling in the midst of the chalked circles with a brush in hand and was dipping it into a bowl in front of her. Bann watched as she withdrew the brush. Its bristles were coated with a thick black ink that the shaman began to paint slowly over the skin of her extended arm, drawing an intricate pattern of spirals and loops that she slowly traced up her arm and over her chest before switching hands and continuing the spiralling design down her other arm. The shaman then stood and began to paint the looping lines across her breasts, tracing the ink over the full, round globes and down over her stomach. As she carefully covered her skin with the black ink, the patterns seemed to shift and swirl on their own volition. When the dark skinned shaman bent over to paint the twisting design over her thighs and down her legs, Bann could swear the lines were melting and melding together before drawing apart and creating new swirling designs.


Once she finished tracing the design over her feet, the shaman straightened herself and gazed into the mirror. Stretching out her arms, the woman began twisting her fingers into bizarre arcane patterns. Bann felt the air grow heavy and a strange, metallic odour filtered into his nostrils. His ears felt like they were stuffed with wool, a heavy pressure pushing on them in a manner similar to the feeling he got when he climbed high up the mountains that cradled the Koltar valley. Despite the discomfort, however, he could not tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. The surface of the mirror flickered and shifted quickly and then grew still. He realized he was holding his breath, but found he could not exhale. The mirror flickered once more, but this time the image of the beautiful dark skinned woman contained within it began to vibrate and shimmer. The ornate patterns on her skin twirled and twisted like writhing snakes, coalescing, breaking apart and melting together once more in undulating rhythms until the woman’s form was obscured entirely by an inky blackness. Then, like something rising from thick black mud, a form emerged from the dark blotch. The blackness lightened and took on a purple hue. The reflection of the shaman’s face shifted and reshaped itself and an imposing pair of horns sprouted from its forehead and twisted back over its scalp. The reflected form of the shaman’s body warped and bent as its breasts grew larger and the etched lines of defined musculature creased the now purple skin. Her feet melted and coalesced to form hooves, her shins morphed into a bestial, digitigrade structure and a spaded tail sprouted from behind her to languidly lash through the air. Between her legs, a huge, horse-like phallus sprouted from where the shaman’s shaved mons once was. Finally, the inky blackness where the shaman’s eyes should have been reflected started to glow with a dull red light like dying coals in a hearth.


“My liege,” said the shaman to the demonic reflection.


“Ah, Kalliya,” said Gaermeon. “You have news?”


“I do. The ranks of the host swell. We number over four thousand now. When we reach the mountains, we should be able to add another five.”


“You do well, my pet,” came the demon’s reply. To Bann, her voice was sweet honey that pooled in his ears and trickled down his spine.


“I am pleased to bring us that much closer to our goal,” said Kalliya.


“Indeed. Your reward shall be most fitting.”


Bann’s limbs felt heavy as the honey seeped through them. A warm ember of desire nestled into his groin as he watched the two figures talk.


“I wish that I could summon you here properly, my liege,” said Kalliya, “instead of having to talk to you through this shade. I crave your touch.”


“I understand, pet. Soon enough.”


The sweet treacle that was the demon’s voice had filled Bann’s body completely now, like water into a cup. Beneath his kilt, hot blood pumped and his cock grew turgid. The fog in his head was no longer unpleasant, but a soft, warm pillow for him to rest upon.


Gaermeon continued speaking, but looked past the mage to stare directly at Bann, “It may be too dangerous for me to visit right now, but perhaps there is a small gift I can bestow upon you.”


Bann pried open the shutters and lifted himself through the open window. Kalliya turned to face him.


“I’m sorry, my liege,” she said as Bann stumbled slowly into the room, “I had guards posted. I don’t know how…”


“Shhh. Not to worry. We have him now,” said Gaermeon, “But he must not speak of my presence. It could break the glamour. Kill him or keep him, the choice is yours.”


“I grow tired of this chief I must service. Some diversion could be nice,” said Kalliya, her eyes travelling the length of the young barbarian’s body.


“Remove your clothes,” said the succubus to Bann. Like an automaton, he obeyed, peeling off his jerkin and shirt and unbuckling his kilt. He let the clothes fall to the floor and stood before the demon and her consort mage fully naked.


“Not bad,” said Kalliya, “But that cock simply cannot compare to yours, my liege.”


“Come to me,” said Gaermeon and once more Bann’s legs began to mechanically carry him forward until he was pressed against the surface of the mirror. It felt like warm butter against his skin, not hard and cold like a mirror should, and seemed to melt against him.


The succubus reached out a hand and ran it down his chest between his pecs, caressing his abs until she was running her obsidian nails along the turgid length of his erection. Despite the apparent proximity, it felt like there was a thin barrier of liquid between his skin and the touch he yearned for. The purple skinned demon murmured words in a language he could not understand as she traced the outline of his throbbing shaft. A strange tingle rippled along its length.


“Lie down, toy,” said the demon.


Bann stepped back from the mirror reluctantly. Where his cock had been pressed against it, the surface seemed to stretch momentarily before snapping back into place. His balls felt heavier and his rampant erection pulsed with need. The warm fog in his head prevented all but the smallest nudge of surprise when he noticed his cock was now a few inches longer and girthier. The fleeting emotion was quickly buried under an avalanche of lust. The naked warrior lay on his back in the centre of the circles, a foot of cockmeat now wobbling gently in the air above his groin.


“Mount him, Kalliya, and finish the spell,” ordered Gaermeon.


“With pleasure, my queen,” said the mage, stepping over the supine barbarian.


The young warrior watched through eyes no longer under his control as the dusky skinned woman straddled him, a bare foot on either side of his hips. With deliberate slowness, she lowered her plump ass towards his cockhead. Bann yearned to reach up and grasp her smooth, round asscheeks and squeeze them as she sank herself down onto his shaft, but his arms felt like lead, too heavy to move. A thin, clear strand of cuntjuice dripped from Kalliya’s pussy until it connected with Bann’s aching erection, linking them with a liquid string of desire. The mage continued her agonizingly slow descent until her lust glazed pussy lips grazed the barbarian’s swollen crown. The touch was sweet agony. Bann felt like his cock should be spurting a fountain of cum just from that lightest of touches. He needed to ejaculate, yet something was preventing him. He moaned with need and frustration.


Within the mirror, Gaermeon had sat back on a chair that wasn’t visible, slouching comfortably on the invisible furniture while her own bestial schlong throbbed and grew hard. Leaning back, the purple succubus lazily teased one of her pierced nipples while shifting her heavy, smooth ballsack with her other hand so as to access the clit and cunt that it hid. As she watched her pet mount her new toy, the demon began massaging her pleasure button, causing a thick stream of fem-lube to ooze from her twat. Above her undulating fingers, her massive, inhuman cock throbbed, bobbing gently as it grew turgid and engorged.


Kalliya’s eyes were glued to the sight of the succubus lavishing attention on her dripping pussy and the mage let out a breathy moan as the succubus shifted a hand from her breast to grip the monumental phallus swaying above her pussy. As the demon began to stroke the immense organ, the mage lowered her hips to drive her cunt down onto the cock caressing her twat lips. When the warm, wet tunnel engulfed his rampant erection Bann grunted with pleasure. The feeling of the dusky mage’s cunt stretching around his desperate tool was cripplingly intense. His limbs locked up and his neck strained. He was on the cusp of spraying his seed into the welcoming sheath sliding down his pole, but couldn’t. His cock felt swollen and overly large for its own skin, his balls pulsed and spasmed with impending orgasm yet, like a wall an inch to high to climb, no relief was forthcoming.


When the mage raised her ass and slid her twat back up the rigid length, Bann’s lust dimmed consciousness could just make out a faint ring of almost translucent purple light around the base of his penis. Strange runes, similar in form to those chalked onto the floor flickered upon the intangible surface of the purple ring. Kalliya dropped back down his throbbing length once more and the magic ring was hidden from view as her hungry cunt swallowed his tool once more. As she began to vigorously hump her pussy on his needy cock her ample asscheeks jiggled and rippled with each impact upon his pelvis while the light of the mystical ring of runes grew stronger, but, his mind clouded by the fog of lust, Bann could not focus on the strange magic ring. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.


Gaermeon had taken her hands off her genitals and now held both of them slightly apart, above and on either side of her hose of a cock, raising and lowering them with a rhythm that matched Kalliya’s steady rutting on Bann’s shaft, almost as if she was being ridden by someone the coupling pair on the other side of the magical mirror could not see. The demon’s and the mage’s eyes were locked and the succubus’ full lips were spread in a lusty leer while Kalliya’s mouth hung open in pleasure. She grunted and moaned as her ass slapped against Bann’s skin.


The young barbarian’s mind was adrift in a sea of desire. No thought existed within it but the need for release. The exquisite pressure and heat of Kalliya’s accommodating cunt was all he could think about and the edge of orgasm he had been kept balanced on was overwhelming.


“I think he’s just about had all he can take, my dear,” said Gaermeon.


“As -ah- you say -ah- my lady,” replied Kalliya as she continued humping her ass up and down atop Bann’s engorged prick.


Shifting her gaze to lock eyes with the hapless youth, the succubus whispered sibilantly; “Cum with me…”


Like a summer storm breaking on the mountains, Bann’s cock erupted. His balls jerked and pulsed, his shaft strained and throbbed and a flood of cum gushed and spurted upwards into the sodden confines of Kalliya’s cunt. The warrior’s muscles contracted and released over and over, pumping out rope after rope of sticky, sloppy seed into the brown skinned mage’s tunnel until she was filled completely and the glistening white jism began to ooze in viscous rivulets past her stretched labia.


“My queen!” gasped Kalliya as her pussy clenched in orgasm, the feeling of Bann’s weighty tool pumping her cunt full of cum pushing her over the edge.


Bann’s limbs went limp and the ache of desire in his balls was replaced with a blanket of satisfaction that engulfed his entire body. His eyelids became suddenly heavy and, with a weak moan, his world went dark.

 

[balthazar]

How to make friends and influence Orcs.


Chapter 8 - Mila


The trail that Mila, Kalliya and Pointer were following was barely visible. Underbrush, rocky outcroppings and huge tree roots spilled over it, while above them a thick canopy of leaves contrived to break the sunlight into a speckled mosaic of viridescent patches and shadowy blotches. The trees crowded the path so thickly that Kalliya had to dismount and lead her horse while Mila found she had to dip her head often to avoid gnarled branches that conspired to knock her from Alagar’s back. To make matters worse, the thick foliage blocked even the idea of a breeze, yet somehow the shade cast by the very same trees offered naught but the humidity of a sauna.


The orc bandit at the bridge had given them directions to the Redtooth tribe’s whereabouts before they’d let him go, but after five days of hacking through the underbrush, Mila was starting to regret not bringing him along. She had been confident he was telling the truth at the time, but each sweaty minute that passed nurtured a nugget of doubt in her mind. She’d shed her cloak, armour and shirt, riding topless in an attempt to cool off, and was now sorely tempted to lose her trousers too. Mila was a mountain orc and found the cloying heat more irksome than playing cards with Urglot. Behind her, even the imperturbable Pointer had shucked his cloak and doublet and loped along the trail clad only in his black trousers and boots. The pale skinned elf was sweating profusely and Mila was glad she was on point for the lean elf had a distracting physique - sinewy muscles, crisscrossed with a latticework of scars that made the orc warrior bite her bottom lip. She liked a male who had seen a few fights. Only Kalliya seemed relatively nonplussed by the heavy atmosphere. She had shed her cloak and tunic as well and now wore a simple, rather revealing tank top, yet, although her brow exhibited a few beads of sweat, she wasn’t even comparable to the sweaty, bedraggled mess that was Mila and Pointer.


Alagar stopped walking, the halt in momentum dragging Mila from her heat induced half-reverie. The big warg hunched his shoulders, extended his neck and sniffed pointedly. There was something further down the trail.


“Hold up,” whispered Mila over her shoulder. “Alagar can smell something up ahead.”


The orc dismounted and drew her bastard sword from the baldric that was the only article of clothing she didn’t consider shedding. In another fluid movement, her buckler was in her left hand. Pointer was by her side in a blink, the blackened blade of his estoc shining dully in the dappled sunlight. The elf tapped his chest with his left hand, then held it up to his face with two fingers extended towards his eyes before moving it to point down the path. Mila gave a curt nod and watched as the thief noiselessly folded into the speckled shadows and went ahead to scout.


“What do you think it is?” whispered Kalliya.


“I hope it’s the fucking Redtooth,” replied Mila.


The two women and the warg crouched low and waited in silence. Behind them, Mila could hear the occasional bird call, but from ahead came nothing but an oppressive silence. The orc knew enough trailcraft to realise the lack of birdsong hinted at the presence of others. In the dank heat, the minutes passed like treacle. A trickle of sweat made its way down her cheek, over her collarbone and slowly through the valley of her cleavage. The crack of a twig as Kalliya shifted her footing seemed deafening.


Then the underbrush beside them parted noiselessly and Pointer materialised, slate and chalk already in hand.


2 Orcs. Spears and bows. Red body paint.


Mila exhaled through subconsciously clenched teeth. They had found the Redtooth. The warg-rider sheathed her sword and hooked her buckler back on her belt.


“Ok, let me do the talking,” she explained, voice still low and quiet. “They’re not known to be too happy about visitors, but, as long we keep our weapons sheathed and don’t make any sudden moves, I should be able to get us into their camp to have a word with their chief.”


“Sounds good,” said Kalliya. Pointer simply nodded.


Attempting to make as much incidental noise as she could, Mila took the lead once more and led the small party around the bend in the trail toward the orc sentries. As they proceeded up a small incline, a tall figure stepped from the undergrowth at the crest. The first thing Mila noted about him was his size - the orc sentry was truly immense in stature. His shoulders were broad and muscles rose like small hills across them and down his arms. He had a pit fighter’s belly; a paunch the result of a healthy layer of fat typical for a fighter that tended to wear no armour. His skin was a much darker green than Mila’s olive tone and his hair hung in rough, heavy dreadlocks. In one huge fist he carried a spear with a broad metal head. Tucked into his belt was cleaver bladed weapon.


To Mila’s pleasant surprise, the belt, along with a few pouches that hung from it, were the big orc’s only clothes. Aside from stripes of maroon paint that adorned his face, arms and legs, the hefty warrior was completely nude. Mila’s gaze lingered on the slab of a cock that hung between his legs, causing her to realise she’d probably gone too long without a decent fuck. She shook her head to refocus on the task at hand.


Holding and arm with a balled fist horizontally across her forehead, Mila signalled that she came in peace. In response, the big orc spread his arms and roared at her.


“Is that bad?” whispered Kalliya from behind her.


Mila ignored the mage and spread her arms wide before roaring back at the bulky orc. The big orc grinned toothily and leaned his spear against the nearest tree before unbuckling his belt and laying it on the ground beside the spear. Mila lifted her baldric over her head and handed it backwards to Pointer without taking her eyes off the dark green behemoth. Once fully disarmed, she stretched the muscles in her neck, balled her fists and began striding up the incline towards the other orc. In response, the dark green male stepped back while raising his fists and taking a fighting stance.


The patch of trail at the top of the hill was relatively wider than much of what the small party had been travelling on, but the ground was still snaked with tree roots and rocks and the trees on either side were still looming oppressively close. This, thought Mila, was not the ideal terrain for what was about to happen.


As soon as she reached the crest of the slope, the huge male stepped forward and swung a wide haymaker that caught Mila in the ribs, just below her guard. As she reeled from the punishing blow, the dark green orc struck again, this time with a left hand jab. Still gasping for air, Mila slipped under the incoming blow and laid a heavy right hook into the brawler’s left side. Straightening her back, the warg-rider followed up with a left handed uppercut, but could not push it past the big orc’s guard. The dark green warrior laughed jovially, breaking his guard to grab Mila’s forearms while stepping in close to deliver a stunning headbutt to her brow.


Mila’s vision spun, and she stumbled backwards. Grasping at straws, the olive skinned fighter lashed out with a sweeping kick that caught the hulking orc just behind his left knee. It was enough to drop him to a kneel. As her ass hit the ground, she lashed out once more with a straight heel kick that connected with the large male’s jaw. His head rocked back, his body following the movement, and in a moment both fighters were on their asses.


Grinning ferociously at one another, the two orcs launched themselves forwards, colliding with a meaty slap in the centre of the tiny clearing. The big male pushed forwards hard before twisting sharply at the waist, attempting to use his superior weight to throw Mila to the ground, but the warg-rider was expecting the tactic and moved with the large warrior’s momentum, rolling with the throw while keeping her hands locked around the warrior’s wrists. As he reached full extension, she tucked her knees in, placing her feet against his stomach, while leaning backwards until the massive orc was almost fully above her. Then, yanking down hard on his arms and kicking out with her feet, the smaller warrior launched the huge orc over her head, his body describing a full somersault before crashing down onto the trail, fully supine.


Still rolling from the momentum of the throw, Mila catapulted herself backwards to land heavily upon the brute’s belly, causing his breath to be expelled from his lungs with a loud whoosh. She raised her right fist, gripped his throat with her left hand and watched as the beast of a fighter groggily opened his eyes. He grinned up at her.


{You fight well,} he said.
From behind her came a female voice; {I think he is done.}


Mila looked over her shoulder to see a female orc with equally dark skin step onto the trail. Similar in build to the large male, the female orc carried a wicked looking machete in her hand and had a six foot longbow over strapped to her back. She, too, had bulging muscles that rippled over her shoulders and down her arms and a slight paunch to her belly. She, too, was completely naked, but for the leather belt that went from shoulder to hip, holding her longbow and quiver, and the red paint stripes that adorned her face and limbs. The female orc’s breasts were huge and sagged slightly with their own weight. Her belly carried the same slight paunch that her comrade had and her legs were heavily muscled, like her arms. Like her compatriot, this orc was a real brawler.


Mila clambered off her supine opponent and offered him a hand. The big male gripped it tightly and allowed Mila to help him to his feet.


{My name is Grotag,} he said as he found his feet. {This is my sister Kami. We are Redtooth. You are?}


They were speaking heavily accented orcish, so Mila responded in kind; {I am Mila of Top Town. Those are my friends Pointer and Kalliya.}


Kalliya and Pointer were cautiously climbing up the small incline.


“Uh, what’s going on?” said the mage.


“We greet in Orc manner,” said Grotag, speaking halting Imperial.


“Just a traditional orc meeting ceremony,” explained Mila. “We like to get the measure of one another when we first meet, although you don’t see this kind of ‘hello’ further west, usually. An arm wrestle tends to suffice.”


“I like handshakes,” said Kalliya.


It was late evening by the time Grotag and Kami had led the small party to the tribe’s village. Grotag seemed to have take quite a shine to Mila and walked beside her the whole way, asking her questions about the western lands and her journey, as well as about their reason for visiting. Mila was happy to talk and found the big orc to be an amiable fellow, quite jovial despite his imposing appearance.


The Redtooth village was situated upon a deforested hilltop that poked up above the surrounding forest and was cradled on three sides by a small river. The buildings that comprised the village were wood and thatch huts, encircled by a palisade, with a large, circular wooden building in the centre that apparently doubled as a communal hall and a small keep in the event of an attack. After Kalliya’s horse was hitched to a simple railing just inside the palisade gate, Grotag and Kami guided the group into the village proper, pointing out their own hut as they passed it. Judging by the number of huts and the various orcs they passed, Mila guessed the village population numbered a few hundred. All the orcs she saw were armed, although none wore a lick of clothing. Thanks to the summer heat, Mila completely understood why and was sorely tempted to join them in their traditional ways.


“You want to see holy stone,” said Grotag as he led the small group through the village. “I take you to village chief in Pa. She decide.”


The Pa, it turned out, was the huge central building. By the time they had reached the Pa’s doors, a small crowd of curious villagers was tagging along behind them. The doors themselves were open and revealed a rectangular central hall with doors leading off the sides. The hall was furnished with long tables, numerous well-worn benches and stools, a couple of fire pits (thankfully, noted a sweaty Mila, not lit) and a large seat, carved from a single stone boulder, that sat at the far end.


More orcs appeared from the various doors that ringed the great hall and soon there were at least a hundred standing around the party as they were brought before the stone throne. Seated upon the throne was a wizened, old, female orc, hair long turned silver. The village chief was a strikingly attractive woman - nude, like the rest of the tribe, her muscles were clearly visible, as was her scarred green skin that told the story of a warrior’s life. Across her knees lay a huge two handed sword. Around her throne stood a grim quartet of hulking male orcs, all similarly armed.


Kami stepped up to the throne and whispered into the chief’s ear, pointing at each member of the party as she did so.


“Greetings, travellers,” said the chief. “I am chief Trabba. Kami tells me you have travelled far to learn of our ways and to study the sacred stone.”


Kalliya glanced at Mila, who nodded, before stepping forward and introducing herself; “I am Kalliya, ma’am, and these are my companions Mila and Pointer. I have travelled almost the length of the mountains for the chance to study your sacred stone. I am a student of history, interested in the remains of the ancient Empire and heard that the Redtooth had a Thaean artifact in their possession.”


“It is important to maintain a connection with the past,” responded Trabba. “I see no harm in letting you see the stone. But you must be tired and hungry. Tomorrow we shall take you to the artifact. Tonight, you shall rest.”


“We are most appreciative of your hospitality, great chief,” said Kalliya, bowing deeply.


The party were given the use of three rooms adjoining the main hall, furnished with simple yet comfortable beds. After they had deposited their gear within their quarters, the party was provided with a simple meal of roasted meat and vegetables. By the time they were finished eating, the sky had grown dark and Kalliya and Pointer decided to turn in for the night.
 Mila, however, was craving a bath, and decided to see if she could find her way to the river. With a happy smile the orc remembered the old saying ‘when in Drasich, do as the Drasichians do’ and gleefully stripped off her leather pants before slinging her baldric back over her shoulder and heading out in search of a bath with Alagar loping along behind her.


The village was still quite active despite the lateness of the hour and Mila figured that, with the heat of the day being what it was, it made sense that the villagers would make what use they could of the cooler nighttime hours. As she ambled past the villager’s huts she gloried in the cool night air caressing her skin while taking in the sights of the traditional orc village. After asking a couple of villagers how to get down to the river, Mila and Alagar were soon descending a tree shrouded path the led to the water’s edge.


As the pair got clear of the trees, Mila saw a single torch flickering in the darkness that blanketed the shore - clearly they were not the only ones looking for a late night swim. Slowing her pace slightly, the orc watched as a familiar figure emerged from the river, the water glistening in the moon and firelight as it dripped from his dark green skin. Mila licked her lips as she took in Grotag’s powerful figure and bit her lip as her gaze fell on his heavy shaft, swinging semi-hard between his muscled thighs. The huge orc walked over to where the torch was planted in the dirt and sat down, gazing out at the sparkling water. However, just as Mila was about to walk over to him and see if he was up for a little fun, another figure, abundantly female in shape, emerged from the dark waters. Kami walked over to where her brother was seated on the beach and stood before him.


{You are getting hard. You are thinking of that foreign orc,} said the heavily muscled woman.


{She is strong and pretty,} said Grotag, his voice a low rumble.


{She is strong, but so skinny,} said Kami. {No meat on her, not like a proper Redtooth woman.}


Mila was mildly taken aback. She’d never considered herself skinny. In Top Town, compared to the humans and elves, she was possibly overly curvaceous and buxom. Still, she thought, compared to the swaying bosom, heavy buttocks and plump curves of Kami, her ample but firm tits, chiseled abs and pert ass might be considered on the skinny side.


{Ha! Not like you, you mean.}


{Not like me,} said his sister as she sat down beside her brother, hefting her weighty breasts in her hands.


{I would have relief, sister,} said Grotag, groping one of his sister massive tits. {The chief has not called on me to service her for a long time.}


{I shall service you then,} replied the curvaceous orc, {before your swollen cock causes too much discomfort.}


As Mila watched, Kami reached out and gripped her brother’s pulsing cock and began to pump her hand up and down the turgid shaft. After stroking it steadily for a few minutes, the female orc bent to the side and placed her lips over the blunt head of the massive phallus. Mila could hear a gentle slurping noise as Kami bobbed her head up and down.


{You are a good sister,} growled Grotag.


Kami ceased sucking on his girthy erection and looked up at her brother; {Lick my cunt, brother. I grow hot.}


Mila bit back a moan as she watched Kami lie on her back and spread her legs. Grotag rolled to his hands and knees and moved until he was over his sister, his pendulous organ dangling over her mouth, his head between her thighs.


{I can smell your heat, sister,} said the huge orc. {Suck my cock while I lick your cunt.}


Kami craned her head upwards until her lips made contact with Grotag’s blunt cock-head once more. Extending her tongue, the buxom sibling gently licked at the immense phallus before lowering her head to the ground once more. Mila could see a long, glinting string of pre-cum and spittle stretch from Grotag’s distended dick to Kami’s mouth.


{I am tired,} said the sister. {You do the work tonight, brother. Use my mouth as you would that other orc’s cunt.}


{If I must,} said Grotag, spreading his knees until his monumental shaft slid into his sister’s open mouth. Mila realised the girthy organ would be probing into his sister’s throat when she saw his cum-heavy balls come to rest over his sister’s nose.


Once the ponderous dick was seated in his sibling’s throat, the big orc flexed his haunches, bucking his hips gently as he started to fuck his sister’s mouth. Mila heard Kami emit a gurgling moan when Grotag lowered his head to her crotch and began sucking on her clit. The hulking warrior’s body was now pressing down against his sister’s, his head bobbing over her quim, his ass rising and falling with a steady rhythm as he humped his tumescent penis in and out of Kami’s welcoming mouth.


Mila felt a long strand of cunt juice ooze from her throbbing pussy and past her lust-inflamed labia to drip on the ground. Beside her, Alagar glanced at the sight on the river shore and then back at his companion’s dripping cunt before opening his jaws and running his long, wet tongue over her aroused genitals. With a quiet moan, Mila dropped to her hands and knees and then rolled onto her back.


“Fuck me like he’s fucking her, please boy,” she quietly begged, spreading her legs.


Alagar growled pleasantly and shifted his furry bulk until he was standing above the horny orc. From her vantage point below the huge warg, Mila could see his knotted, veiny cock gradually extend from its sheath. The huge beast squatted until his belly pressed against hers and his heavy, furred balls rested on his partner’s forehead. Mila craned her head until she could wrap her lips around the warg’s pointed cock-head and began to suck.


On the beach nearby, Grotag had slid his arms under Kami’s legs until his hands were firmly grasping her voluminous ass-cheeks. Lifting them slightly, he half crouched while lashing his tongue over her quim. Meanwhile, his hips kept up the steady, gentle bucking motion as he fucked his shaft deeper into his sister’s throat. The orc siblings stayed in that position for a few, long minutes; brother pumping his cock into sister’s mouth with gentle, yet urgent need.


{Gah! Ok, brother. I need to breathe,} said Kami, pulling Grotag’s spit coated phallus from her mouth.


{Let us do something different. It felt good, but I could not cum like that,} said the huge warrior. {I need to fuck something properly.}


{And I need a proper fucking,} said Kami, climbing out from under her brother and getting on to her hands and knees. {Get over here and fuck my ass, brother.}


Hidden in the gloom of the trees, Mila peered past Alagar’s swelling knot and swinging balls to watch as Grotag squatted behind his sister’s buttocks and lined his gleaming phallus up with her anal opening. Above her, Alagar was happily humping his hot, veiny schlong down her throat. Mila gently gripped the canine shaft and pulled it out of her mouth, before turning over and mirroring Kami’s position on all fours.


“Oh fuck!” she gasped as she pulled the engorged dick past her lips. “Mount me like that! I need to feel that cock of yours inside my ass.”


Alagar panted agreeably and rotated until the black fur of his chest was looming over Mila’s head. The orc could feel the slimy, pointed head of his pulsing cock prodding at the cleft of her butt. Reaching back with one hand, she grasped the hot column of warg flesh and helped the affectionate beast find her sphincter. As Grotag slowly pushed his massive cock into Kami’s asshole, Mila guided her warg companion’s oversized organ into her own anus.


{Yes! There it is, brother. Push it in,} grunted Kami as her sphincter spread around Grotag’s girthy organ.


Alagar’s heavy shaft drooled a steady stream of hot, watery pre-cum into Mila’s bowels, the sloppy fluid producing an obscene squelching noise as the black-furred creature began easing his organ in and out between the orc’s raised buttocks. The scene was mirrored on the shore as Grotag’s dark green skin slapped against his sister’s, the smacking noise of his thighs impacting hers and the low grunts of the icestuous siblings masking the lewd sounds of Mila and Alagar’s hidden coupling.


{You -uh- are -uh- a -uh- good -uh- sis-uh-ter,} groaned Grotag. The ample, rounded flesh of Kami’s ass jiggled with each of his thrusts and the large orc’s swinging ball-sack slapped noisily against her dripping fuck-hole.


Kami folded her arms and lowered her head to them, leaving her rump raised, and braced her legs wide while she let her brother sate his lust in the tight, warm confines of her anus.


{Fuck -uh- my -uh- ass -uh-, brother,} came her panted reply. {Fill -uh- your -uh- dutiful -uh- sister’s -uh- ass -uh- with -uh- your -uh- seed.}


All Grotag could manage was a rumbling growl, his massive hands clenching tight, gripping the smooth green skin of Kami’s arse as he rutted her with intense, heavy strokes. Hidden in the shadows of the trees, Mila watched the incestuous sodomy with desire burning in her eyes. She knew the orc customs; that all virile members of the tribe could be called upon to service their chief and that non-vaginal intercourse between family members was not taboo among the wilder clans, but her years living outside tribal culture had ingrained within her the more commonly accepted norms and the lewd display on the beach in front of her drove her wild with lust. Bucking back against Alagar’s thrusts, she felt the heat of his knot press against her sphincter. With a low growl in her throat, the desperate orc pushed against the veiny bulge while relaxing her tight ring of muscle until, with a pop that could be felt if not heard, the canine cock slid fully into her back passage, tying the rutting pair together. The warg arched his back and gripped the sweaty orc’s neck between his jaws, exerting a delicate yet firm pressure on Mila’s skin as his hefty organ was entombed within the vice-like grip of her anus.


On the beach, Kami had slid forwards, mashing her huge, bountiful tits into the dirt and leaving her ass only slightly raised. The immense bulk of her brother covered her back completely as he lay atop her, his ass rising and falling quickly as he sodomized his sister’s prostrate form. Both orcs were grunting and panting loudly as they fucked, completely given over to their thumping lust.


Under the trees, Mila and Alagar mirrored the sibling’s lusty sodomy, the movement of the warg’s steady humping only slightly less pronounced than Grotag’s thanks to the thick knot that tied Mila’s sphincter tightly to the base of his pre-cum oozing phallus. The warg-rider could feel her companion’s weighty tool and girthy knot pulsing and throbbing against the silky skin of her anus and knew she would soon feel his boiling jism pumping into her bowels. Her own orgasm was not far off - copious amounts of clear, slimy fem-lube oozed from her cunt, soaking the ground beneath the knotted pair’s heaving haunches.


Grotag bellowed and mashed his pelvis against his sister’s juicy buttocks, his hips flexing rhythmically, the muscles of his ass contracting as he hosed his orc-seed into Kami’s hole. Kami’s roar of satisfaction came through clenched teeth as her own orgasm was triggered by the act of her anal passage being filled with her brother’s thick spunk.


The sight of the female orc’s ass getting pumped full of her brother’s sperm was too much for Mila and her twat shuddered in sympathetic climax, causing her well fucked asshole to clench and squeeze down on the massive dog-cock stuffed into it. Alagar growled and his jaws pressed heavily on Mila’s neck while his tool began hosing cum into her backside. Mila’s breath exhaled in a long, ragged expression of pleasure and satisfaction as the beast mounting her spurted powerful, sticky ropes of jizz into her convulsing arse. The sensation was exquisite - hot cum filled her completely, warming her to her core until she felt it squirt from where her sphincter was wrapped around the base of Alagar’s slowly deflating knot. Through heavy lidded eyes, she watched as Grotag pushed himself up off his thoroughly fucked sister. His immense, softening tool seemed to take an eternity to slide past his sister’s sphincter before it popped free of Kami’s grasping asshole. A string of cum glinted in the firelight, stretching from Grotag’s gently pulsing member to the hole it had been vigorously fucking as Grotag gave his sister’s ass a final affectionate squeeze and hauled himself to his feet.


{I think we must bathe again,} grunted the big orc.


{Indeed,} came Kami’s weary reply as she pushed herself to her unsteady feet. A slow waterfall of her brother’s sperm oozed from her gaping anus to splatter on the ground.


Hidden in the treeline, Alagar continued to inseminate Mila’s overfilled asshole, the excess, sloppy cum oozing in pulsing spurts from where her sphincter was wrapped tightly around the base of his knot.


“Ohhh, good boy,” gasped Mila, her body still quivering from her long, drawn out orgasm and the pleasant sensation of Alagar’s warm jizz churning into her bowels. “What a good boy…”


Alagar released grip on his friend’s neck, his tail wagging, while he finished squirting his voluminous load into her sloppy, overflowing rear. The warg gave her an affectionate lick on the cheek and gently pulled his now significantly smaller knot out of her anus, causing a gush of viscous semen to pour from the distended opening. Mila gingerly rolled over to a sitting position, taking the warg’s huge head between her hands and petting his mane. She planted a loving kiss on his fuzzy forehead before groggily standing up.


“I guess we’d better go get cleaned up too, huh, boy?” she said as the girl and her warg stepped out from the trees and made their way down to the river to join the two bathing orcs.


From their position in the river, Kami and Grotag turned to watch as Mila and Alagar walked down to the water’s edge, the big male raising a muscled arm to wave once he recognized the pair. Mila could feel a steady trickle of sticky warg-sperm oozing down the inside of her thighs as she began wading into the cool water and wondered if the orc siblings could see it in the darkness.


{Greetings,} said Mila as she walked into the water.


{Greetings, Mila,} replied Grotag raising a fist out of the water and pointing it in her direction. His sister simply nodded.


Mila swam over to the brutish orc, reaching out with her own fist and bumping her knuckles with his.


{I am clean enough,} said Kami as she watched the two exchange the informal orcish greeting, generally reserved for friends. {Brother, I shall see you back at the hut. Good night.}


Mila turned to watch the curvy form of Kami wade onto the shore.


{I do not think she likes me,} she said, casting a glance over her shoulder at Grotag.


Grotag moved closer behind her and Mila felt something hard brush against the back of her thigh.


{She is jealous. My sister is a good, strong orc. You are a good, strong orc,} explained Grotag. {She is worried you will take me away from the tribe.}


{Is that so?} said Mila as she turned to face the dark green warrior.


The two orcs were standing close to one another, the water lapping against the underside of Mila’s breasts. With a sly smile, she reached out under the water until her hand found Grotag’s semi-erect cock.


{You would leave the village with a skinny foreign orc?} she asked as she wrapped her fingers around the wide column of flesh.


{You are tough and pretty,} said Grotag, eyes narrowing at the mention of the word skinny, shaft hardening in her grasp, {but no, my place is here, with my village and my chief. Still, if you would have me, I would enjoy coupling with you.}


Gripping his monolithic penis tightly, Mila pulled herself closer to the orc until she could wrap her hands around his waist. Her wet breasts mashed against his chest and she parted her thighs to let his cock pass between them and caress her pussy-lips.


{I would like that as well,} she breathed into his ear. She reached back, under the water, and began to guide his length into her waiting cunny.


{No,} objected Grotag. {The Chief is the only one who may have a village warrior in her cunt. May I use your ass?}


With a small sigh of disappointment, Mila shifted slightly and started to feed the big warrior’s cock into her asshole. {Very well.}


Still gaping and slick with Alagar’s seed, Grotag’s wide tool slipped into her asshole relatively easily. Mila clung to the orc’s barrel like chest while he gripped a buttcheek in each hand and lowered her onto his throbbing shaft. Mila grunted in approval as, inch by inch, the big orc’s pole sunk into her stretched rump.


{That is good,} said Grotag. {You take my cock well. My sister is right to be jealous.}


Mila couldn’t hide her surprise at his frankness; {Your sister?}


{Yes. I am surprised you could not hear us rutting as you approached,} said Grotag. {She is most accommodating. She is a good sister.}


The flame of desire licked through Mila’s body once more and she began bouncing her ass on Grotag’s anally entombed phallus.


{I, uh, may have seen something. I did not want to interrupt.}


{Ha!} exclaimed the hefty fighter, matching the female’s bouncing rhythm with his own upwards thrusts. {I thought I saw something moving under the trees.}


Alagar had gotten out of the water and was sitting on his haunches on the shore watching the two orcs churn the surface of the river with their rutting. The warg let out an amused bark as he listened to their conversation.


{Your warg suggests you enjoyed the show, warrior,} said Grotag.


{You understand him?} said Mila. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the orc’s muscular neck, her breasts pressed hard against his broad chests. Her nipples were stiff with arousal and poked hard against Grotag as he sodomised the female orc’s backside with steady, languid thrusts.


{There is a pack of wargs that live in the forest nearby. We have some dealings with them,} said Grotag. {My sister is more friendly with them. I think their big males just like stuffing their knots into orc cunt now and then.}


The big orc chuckled at his last pronouncement while he continued to fuck Mila’s properly stretched open asshole.


{There is something to be said for a big warg knot,} agreed Mila.


{Ha! I like you very much, woman!} laughed Grotag. {Not only do you fight like a true warrior, but you are as lusty as one!}


The barrel chested orc hugged Mila tightly and began striding towards the shore, tree trunk of a penis still ensconced in her ass.


{Perhaps your warg would like to join us?} he asked as he carried the smaller orc to the edge of the river.


{There’s no harm in asking,} agreed Mila. {Nothing like two big boys to fill a girl up.}


Alagar was standing on the shore by the time the two orcs reached it, his tail wagging and huge red penis sliding out of his sheath once more. Mila bit her lip in anticipation as she pulled herself off Grotag’s rampant erection, thankful the two males, despite having cum so recently, were so virile that they were ready for another round. It seemed like she was going to get the proper fucking she had so desired. After Grotag lay on his back on the packed sand of the shore, the lusty female warrior quickly straddled him, her back to his chest, and placed the gloriously huge head of his dick against the dilated entrance to her ass. With a slow, pleasure laden sigh, she sank her butt downwards, relishing the incremental penetration of her back passage as the orc’s girthy tool filled it. Once she had bottomed out, in every sense of the word, she leaned backwards until her back was resting against Grotag’s slab of a chest. The brute reached his arms around her and grabbed her heaving titties, squeezing her diamond hard nipples between thumb and forefinger while he groped the heavy, glistening orbs.


Spreading her legs, Mila looked over at the panting warg nearby; “C’mon old boy. Mount up.”


The warg needed no further encouragement and trotted forward until the fur of his belly brushed against the skin of Mila’s stomach. The canine’s engorged shaft prodded at the folds of Mila’s twat, coating it with slimy pre-cum, before the female orc reached between her legs, grasped the pulsing organ and guided into her quim. As the furry beast above her slowly fed his tapered schlong into her dripping cunt, the big orc warrior beneath her began to slowly buck his hips, causing his immense tube of cock-meat to slowly slide in and out of her straining butthole, all the while mauling and manhandling her sweat-drenched breasts. Mila cried out in orgasm and a spray of girl-cum squirted from her over-sexed pussy until Alagar plugged the quivering organ with his swollen knot.


Sandwiched between the two well-endowed thrusting males, Mila dropped her head back over Grotag’s shoulder, gasping for air while her sopping wet holes were vigorously used. Rhythmic wet squelching sounds emanated from both her thoroughly-fucked ass and her stuffed cunny as the impressively hung orc beneath her and the monstrously huge warg above her thrust and withdrew their cocks, rutting like mindless animals. Another orgasm ripped through the hapless orc’s body, causing her limbs to spasm. While she rode it out, Mila reached up to grab her own legs behind the knees, holding them apart to give the virile males pounding her holes better access. Alagar growled in approval and arched his back, leaning forward to push his knot past Mila’s pussy-lips and into the wet warmth beyond them. Grotag grunted and moved his hands from her tits to her ass cheeks, gripping them tightly as he spread them apart and flexed his pelvis mechanically, ravishing her buttery back passage.


{Oh, shit! Fuck me like that!} moaned Mila. {Fuck another orgasm into me!}


Alagar huffed and panted, pumping his haunches and clearly relishing the moist, hot pressure of his companion’s cunt wrapped around his tumescent knotty bulge. Mila could feel his thick knot and slick cock rubbing against the thin barrier of skin that separated it from Grotag’s veiny length sliding in and out of her ass. Gobs of sloppy white cum, deposited in her ass by Alagar’s earlier ass-fucking, were squeezed out of her sphincter with each thrust of Grotag’s pistoning phallus and dribbled down her spread ass-crack. The sensation was intoxicating, but it became euphoric when she felt Alagar’s bestial phallus start spewing jets of scalding seed into her womb. Every muscle in the region of her groin clamped up, crushing the two cocks inside her holes with velvety pressure.


{Ungh… Going to cum…} grunted Grotag.


{Yesss! Give it to meee! Fill me up!} exclaimed Mila as she orgasmed wildly.


With a final shove, the big orc buried his mighty schlong balls deep in the climaxing woman’s ass. His testicles heaved and contracted and Mila felt his girthy dick pulse and bulge until forceful spurts of sloppy orc seed erupted from the swollen mushroom head of his penis to spray deep into her ass and mingle with the seed already deposited in there by her warg. Mila went limp, eyes rolling back as the warg and the burly orc, both unmoving but for short, gentle-yet-urgent bucks from their hips, filled her anus and cunny with vast quantities of hot, slimy cum.


The three rutting figures held their position for an age, the two males steadily pumping their seed into the ravished female. Eventually, Alagar dismounted his orc companion and pulled his spent canine shaft from her with a damp squelch. A white torrent of glistening ejaculate poured from her recently vacated twat. Mumbling a tired ‘Good boy’ to her warg, the exhausted Mila simply rolled onto her side, letting Grotag spoon her, his softening yet girthy cock still embedded in her cum-drenched ass. As the black furred beast turned in a small circle and lay down to nap he could hear his partner and their new friend start to snore quietly. The massive canine’s tail thumped happily against the ground a few times and he stretched open his jaw in a big, satisfied yawn before he closed his eyes and joined them in sleep.

 

[balthazar]

Demonic gifts and keeping things quiet in the library.


Chapter 9 - Dayna


The air in her study reeked with the metallic tang of ozone and the pungent odour of sulfur. Dayna and Gomp had just rematerialized and were standing in the portal circle in the centre of the dark room. The elven mage’s cunt and asshole still tingled from the heavy use they’d received during her visit to the outer hells. She directed Gomp to light some candles and put her gear away while she tottered over to the comfortable chair in front of her desk and collapsed into it.


Before she had departed, the Duke had given her a name and a hint of what that individual was searching for. The succubus Gaermeon was seeking a Thaean artifact that would permit her to influence vast numbers of people. Something that would help her spread her influence over a broad geographical area. Dayna turned the puzzle over in her mind. Magical banners and musical instruments abounded, used by numerous armies and mercenary companies to boost the morale and fighting prowess of their soldiers, but these were simple devices, pre-enchanted and lacking the ability to be a conduit for the bearer’s will. Enchanted articles of clothing and armour were a possibility - crowns of command, amulets of influence and the like, but Dayna dismissed these too; their range was limited to line of sight, generally, and it would take significant power to make them affect a population to the degree the Duke spoke of. No, it had to be something else. Dayna needed an expert on Thaean artifacts. Luckily, the University of Drasich was just the place to find one. Unfortunately, that meant she would have to visit Professor Fantig.


Professor Fantig was one of the oldest human professors in the university. Head of the Arcane History department, the old man was a despicable lech. Rumours abounded as to his improper methods and complaints from students regarding abuses of his position of power. Regrettably, the old codger knew both his history and how to work the internal politicking of the university. He was tenured and, utilizing an encyclopedic knowledge of the university’s regulations, had managed to dodge and downplay the worst of any accusations of improper behaviour. Dayna shuddered at what he would ask for in return for a favour.


The tall elf stood and crossed her study to the door that led to her sleeping quarters. Trying to ignore Gomp’s lascivious gaze as she dressed for bed, Dayna grimaced at the thought of meeting with the despicable old teacher. But that would have to wait for tomorrow. With a sigh, the mage climbed under her soft duvet and was quickly shuttled off to sleep in its warm embrace.


“I dunno why you don’t like the guy,” said Gomp, looking up at his master’s glum face. “He seems alright to me.”


“That’s because you’re as bad as he is,” said Dayna. The two were walking down the corridor that led to Fantig’s personal quarters. “Aren’t you glad I don’t treat you like he does his own familiar?”


“Yeah, I guess,” said the diminutive demon. “Still, she’s a rakshasi. Has more tricks up her sleeve than a goblin dice dealer. Probably playing a long con or something, otherwise I dunno how he managed to get her to do those things. You’d never get me like that. I’m too fucking charming. Anyway, you never know with those rakshasi; she might even like it or summink.”


They reached the door to Fantig’s study. Dayna looked her familiar in the eye. “On your best behaviour or I’ll leave you in a cage for a week, okay?”


“Got it boss. No worries.”


The elf knocked on the large wooden door.


“Come in,” a thin, wheezy voice drawled in reply.


The inside of Fantig’s study was cramped. Books lay in piles on the floor, overcrowded bookshelves loomed from the walls and dripping candelabras sputtered and flickered. An strong, sweet scent wafted through the air, like a powerful incense. The professor was seated behind a huge oak desk in the centre of the room, his back to a roaring fire. Despite the summer season, his office was chilly. Dayna’s scanning glance lingered on the academic’s familiar, who was standing in the corner of the shambolic room.


She was a tall, leopard spotted rakshasi. Her face was feline in appearance, with small, rounded leopard ears perched atop her head. Her eyes were covered with a black leather mask that blocked all sight while a wooden bit was forced between her teeth by a black leather harness locked over her head. Her chest was bare, covered with short fur that was a vibrant yellowish orange and dotted with black ring-like spots that disappeared and faded to pure white over her large breasts and flat stomach. Two erect, black nipples capped the furry orbs, each pierced with a large ring and connected to one another by a steel chain. Her arms were spread by a yoke that was collared to her neck and shackled to her wrists, forcing her to keep her hands raised to shoulder level, elbows at right angles. Her digitigrade legs were encased in black leather boots that covered her paws and extended up to mid thigh. A steel bar ran from one heel to the other, keeping her feet an arm’s length apart at all times. Her cunt was bare, labia pierced on both sides with two more large rings in the same style as those that holed her nipples. The labial rings were also connected by a chain, although this one was much shorter than the one that adorned her chest. Clear, viscous liquid slowly dripped from the rakshasi’s exposed pussy to spatter on the floor between her spread legs.


Dayna shook her head at the submissive display, but in her stomach the elven mage felt a strong knot of arousal form. She cursed Habernalle’s magic.


“Ah, Dayna, is it? A pleasure,” said the professor, looking up from his desk and following the elf’s gaze to his bound demon. “You’ll have to excuse my familiar. A punishment for egregarious failure. I’m sure you understand.”


“Professor,” nodded Dayna by way of reply.


“So what brings you to my humble neck of the woods?” chuckled the old academic. “I’m sure it’s more than just the pleasure of my company.”


“I’m doing some research for my thesis, Davill,” said Dayna, using the the professor’s first name. “I was hoping you could help me identify a Thaean artifact I’ve heard referenced by description but not by name.”


“Really?” said Fantig. “Do tell.”


As the two mages talked, Gomp wandered over to the bound rakshasi. The imp stretched out a finger and ran it over the female demon’s glistening cunt lips. The leopard spotted creature moaned audibly around her gag, causing the both arcanists to glance back at the source of the disturbance.


“Gomp!” exclaimed Dayna. The imp looked back at her, eyes wide in poorly feigned innocence, his finger in his mouth.


“It’s quite alright,” murmured Fantig. “She could use some further punishment. Go ahead, imp.”


Dayna sighed and tried to ignore the jingle of chains behind her as Gomp made the bound demon shift position. She turned back to face Professor Fantig.


“The artifact was described as something that would be able to extend the innate magical abilities of the user over a wide area,” continued the elf, “potentially a geographic region the size of the old empire.”


From behind her came the jingle of chains, a wet squelch and another lusty moan. Dayna studiously ignored the distraction, but she could feel her own cunny grow damp. Fantig’s lips parted in a lecherous grin.


There was a grinding noise of wood on stone as the old man pushed his chair back from his desk and leaned back. Dayna watched, disgusted and aroused as the professor leaned back and blatantly scratched his groin. The elf could see a heavy bulge under his trousers. She unconsciously licked her lips while cursing Habernalle once more in the confines of her head.


“I think I know what that description is referencing,” said Fantig. He clutched his groin suggestively. “But what can you offer me in return? Can’t just go around giving out lessons for free, you know. Knowledge must be earned.”


“Fucking hells, Davill. Where do you get off?” said Dayna.


“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” came the impudent reply.


“Alright, fine. I’ll jerk your damn cock if you tell me what I need to know,” Dayna sighed exasperatedly.


There was another wet squelch, needy moan and the sound of jingling chains behind her.


“Oh! What a kind offer from such a pretty young elf! How decent of you to propose helping an old man out,” leered Fantig.


The old professor raised his butt and pulled his pants down to his knees. A gasp escaped Dayna’s lips before she could stop it. While the skin of his legs was wrinkled and sagging, the old man’s phallus was a work of art. Fully ten inches long, smooth and girthy, the slab of meat seemed to belong to a much younger man. Around its base was a metal cockring, inscribed with runes that glowed like dull embers. Dayna stepped towards the lecherous codger’s chair, eyes glued to the magnificent column of male flesh. The elf kneeled beside the sprawling professor, wondering if his cock looked so good because of an illusory glamour, but as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around it she realised it was the real deal. It felt hot in her hand, rigid and hard, the skin silkily smooth to her touch. The young mage felt a wet trickle of fem-lube ooze down her inner thigh. She wondered how she’d managed to forget to put her underwear on that morning.


“You don’t seem to know the university’s history as well as you know how to stroke a cock, do you?” queried Fantig as Dayna began to service his throbbing erection. “Ah, that’s good my dear. Keep wanking it like that.”


Dayna ignored the insult while she pumped her fist along the magnificent shaft. On the other side of the old professor’s desk, she could see Gomp on his knees behind the Rakshasi. The cat-like demon had her furry tits squashed against the wall. Her tail was wrapped around the imp’s neck while his tongue probed her juicy depths. The diminutive demon looked back at his master, the tip of his obscenely long tongue still buried in the female demon’s cunt.


“Tathteth tho thucking thweet, both!” said the imp.


“What are you getting at?” said Dayna, addressing her question to Davill. Beneath her univeristy robe, her legs wobbled. She was sure a puddle was forming thanks to the steady stream of arousal that was oozing from her cunt.


“You know the university was founded before the empire existed?”


“Yes.”


“Well, the result of so many generations of magic users occupying a single location was that much arcane energy seeped into the very stones,” explained the old wizard. Dayna watched as her pumping hand milked a clear bead of pre-cum from the bulbous, dark pink tip of Fantig’s monumental phallus. She yearned to lick it up.


“The latent energy ‘pooled’ in the foundations of the university -Nngh! Fuck yes! Such enthusiasm!- Anyway,” continued the professor, “the early Thaean’s realised they could make use of this ‘reservoir’, so to speak, so they built the Omnigarch Tower.”


Dayna pulled her lips off the crown of Fantig’s dick. She hadn’t even realised she’d begun to suck on it. Across the room, Gomp had pulled the rakshasi down to her knees, leaving her restrained upper body propped against the wall. As she watched, the imp spread his legs and pushed his broad, demonic penis into the feline creature’s slick twat.


“What does the tower have to do with this artifact?”


“Get your lips back on that cock! I was just about to tell you!” complained Davill. Dayna happily lowered her mouth back to the meaty shaft and began to bob her head up and down. “As I was saying, the ancient Thaeans built the Omnigarch Tower to harness the latent magicks! It was an amazing feat of arcane construction! The very design, layout and materials used were conducive to magic. Not only that, -Oh damn, girl, you are ferocious with your mouth!- where was I?”


“Not only were the tower materials…” said the elf, pulling her mouth from Fantig’s delicious organ with some reluctance. The steady stream of pre-cum she was sucking out of it tasted so sweet, but it wasn’t enough. Her pussy ached with need.


“Aw hells,” she said resignedly, bending over the broad desk and hiking up her robes to present her fem-lube oozing cunt to the amazement of the old professor, “just fucking mount me already.”


In front of her, Gomp had begun plowing his oversized member into the rakshasi’s twat. His clawed hands grasped the creature’s furred waist tightly and her tail was wrapped firmly around his red-skinned hips, pulling him in even as he thrust mightily. The imp was grunting loudly and the rakshasi moaned desperately as they frenetically fucked each other towards climax.


“Well! If you insist!” said Fantig enthusiastically. The old man stood hurriedly and Dayna felt his bulbous glans parting her sopping folds until he pushed into her and her needy cunny was exquisitely filled with his pulsing cock-meat.


“Oh, now that is just divine!” exclaimed the professor, beginning to buck his hips. The cramped office was soon filled with the wet slapping noises of vigorous, frantic rutting.


Dayna slurped up a trickle of drool that was trying to escape the corner of her mouth. Her body, robes bunched over her hips, perky buttocks exposed, was pushed into the oak desk as the randy old professor happily pumped his cock into her sopping cunt.


“You were -uh- saying -uh- something -uh- about -uh- the Om-uh-nigarch -uh- Tower…” said the elf, panting as she was ridden hard.


“Yes, the tower had enchantments cast upon it during construction,” explained Fantig. Sweat beaded on his brow as he bred the lust consumed elf’s delectable cunt. “They turned it into what is, in effect, a giant wizard’s staff!”


“You’re saying-”


“Yes, you idiot! The tower is the artifact!”


“Gods -uh- above -uh-, you’re -uh- making -uh- me -uh- cummm!” squealed Dayna as her lurking orgasm crawled over her. Goosebumps prickled the skin of her ass and her body trembled. Fantig slowed his pace as the young mage on the end of his cock shuddered in climax. Translucent, sticky fem-cum spurted down the lip of his desk.


“Fuck me, that felt good!” sighed Dayna, surprising herself with her lewd frankness. Behind her, the old mage persistently continued to rut her ripe quim. “But wait, a staff needs a focussing crystal. And what did they use this giant staff for, anyway?”


“Mmm, your cunt is just sumptuous!” said Fantig. “Do you need me to pull out? I think I might cum soon.”


“No, no, it’s fine,” sighed Dayna as she languished in the blissful sensation of her desperate pussy getting a proper breeding. “Just cum inside me. But what about this crystal and the purpose of it all?”


Fantig’s humping took on a more insistant pace, his hips slapping against the cushion of the younger mage’s bare asscheeks.


“It was called the Omnigarch Stone. They used it to communicate and to transport troops to locations where they were urgently needed,” said the professor, leaning into the elf’s lush booty and gripping the pale flesh tightly in each hand as he nursed himself towards his own climax.


With eyes half closed in satisfaction as she let Fantig make use of her hungry pussy, Dayna lazily observed Gomp bringing himself to orgasm. The small familiar bucked against the restrained body of Fantig’s rakshasi, his hips a blur. Suddenly, the wee imp gave a final, mighty thrust and held himself against the female demon’s furry body, his cheek pressed to her back. Dayna watched as a flood of thick, syrupy imp jizz oozed past the rakshasi’s cunt-lips and down the imp’s quivering balls to splatter upon the stone floor.


“Some wild tribe of orcs took the stone, during the sack of Drasich, I think. If you want to find out where it ended up, you’ll have to take a look at the archives,” said Fantig, his words short and clipped as his orgasm approached. “I’m going to cum in your cunt, now, okay?”


“Yes, I said that’s fine,” purred Dayna, stunned to hear the words coming out of her mouth. “Go on, old man, fill me up.”


Fantig groaned loudly, slamming his hips against her, and Dayna felt his weighty dong jump and pulse in her fuck-hole. A moment later she shuddered through a mini orgasm as a torrent of sloppy seed sloshed into her well-fucked twat. The old man mounting her from behind bucked his hips as he inseminated her tight elven twat. The young mage clenched her cunt around his impressive phallus, milking the final spurts of his seed from his balls. She sighed inwardly even as she relished the warm, pleasing sensation of a cunt-load of cum, wondering what other effects Habernalle’s magic would have.


Davill Fantig slumped back into his chair, his huge cock flopping over a thigh. Dayna pushed herself up off his desk, the professor’s seed oozing down her leg as she wriggled her robe down over her hips.


“Well, that was productive,” sighed the old mage as he watched the young elf adjust her clothes. “Good luck on your thesis. Do come back if you need anything. I’m sure we can work something out.”


“Thanks, I suppose,” said Dayna, grabbing a cackling Gomp by the ear and dragging him to the door.


The archives of the University of Drasich were situated below the library and held countless tomes describing the history of the ancient institution. Numerous novices and adepts were available to mages seeking to find a specific tome, but the greatest assistance came in the form of Trelisopoles, the head librarian.


Trelisopoles was a beholder; a huge, floating eye surrounded by a veritable forest of tentacles and numerous smaller eyes that waved about on the ends of stalks, Trelisopoles looked demonic to the casual observer, but his kind were actually denizens of the material plane, although they usually lived very secluded lives, deep underground. Beholders, as a species were hermaphroditic, but Trelis, as he preferred to be called by his friends, referred to himself using male pronouns. He was an amiable creature, despite his fearsome appearance, and had an encyclopedic knowledge of the library’s contents. His long tentacles and gravity defying form of locomotion further increased his ability to retrieve whatever book was required by a patron. He and Dayna had forged a strong friendship, bookworm that she was.


“Dayna, good to see you,” greeted the beholder as the elven mage walked up to his desk. “How goes the thesis?”


“It won’t write itself,” replied Dayna sardonically. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a record of Thaean artifacts taken during the sacking?”


“Hmmm, I think I can help you with that.” said the floating eye. He called over an apprentice and issued a few quick directions. The assistant scurried off down the stacks. “C’mon, follow me. He may take some time to get those tomes. Why don’t we catch up over a drink in the office?”


Trelis led the young mage down a narrow aisle. Towering stacks loomed over it on either side.


“I heard you were off to the outer realms for some thesis research,” said Trelis amiably as he led Dayna to the head librarian’s office. “Why this interest in the old empire?”


“It’s a long story,” Dayna felt a fresh wave of arousal course through her veins as she watched Trelis’ undulating tentacles. She cursed Habernalle again.


“Here we are,” said Trelis, opening the large door to his office. “Why don’t you fill me in? That acolyte could be some time.”


The interior of the librarian’s study was neat and well organized. Not a single loose sheaf of paper nor stray book could be seen. Well ordered shelves lined the walls and a large desk sat at the far end of the room. Two comfortable chairs were placed in front of it and Dayna sat down in one as the librarian drifted over behind the desk and opened up a drawer with an adept movement of one of his dexterous appendages.


Dayna couldn’t take her eyes off them. The tentacles were of varying lengths, the longest spanning a good eight feet. Quite wide at the base, they tapered to a narrower but blunt point. Each one glimmered wetly in the light coming through the window behind the desk - they constantly secreted a slimy substance that resulted in Trelis having to wear a special sock-like ‘glove’ on the ends of a few of them for the purposes of handling the library’s texts. The slick appendages were prehensile and as Trelis moved they writhed in a strangely alluring manner.


Dayna shook her head, trying to shake the rising fog of lust from her brain.


“Ah, here’s the stuff,” said the hovering librarian, producing a small silver flask from one of the drawers. With a deft flick of his prehensile limb, the librarian unscrewed the cap of the flask and poured a measure of a rich amber liquid into two tumblers held in the grasp of two other slick limbs. Dayna’s hand brushed against the tentacle that was wrapped around the glass the librarian handed to her. Contact with the slick, cool surface caused a tremor to issue forth from her loins, travelling up her body and into her limbs. She almost dropped the glass and her hand shook as she placed it on the table in front of her. She was glad she’d sent Gomp back to her quarters, else the imp’s snickering would be unbearable.


“Are you alright?” asked Trelis. “You seem quite flushed.”


“Uh, yes, I’m okay.”


“I’m not so sure, friend,” said the huge magical beast. “You look like you need to lie down for a minute.”


“Oh, gods, Trelis,” cried Dayna. Her nipples had grown as hard as steel under her robe and she realised she’d forgotten to wear a bra this morning too. “I can’t take it. I went to the outer realms and I met a demon and I let him cast a spell on me and I still think it was for the best and it felt really good but now I feel like I have to fuck everything I see.”


“Oh, you poor thi-”


Trelis’ words were cut off mid sentence as his elven friend hurriedly stood up and began peeling off her clothes. Seeing as she seemed to have forgotten to wear any undergarments that day and her university robe was all one piece, it did not take her long.


“Dayna, wha-”


“Trelis,” said Dayna in a voice edged with steely determination and urgent need, “I. Need. You. To. Fuck. Me. Now.”


Trelis backed up as the strident, nude form of his friend stalked towards him. He could see clear ropes of viscous arousal mixed with pearly white cum dripping from her naked cunt as she climbed up onto the desk he was unsuccessfully hiding behind.


“Darling, I’m not sure you realise how this works…” stuttered the shocked beholder. “I’m carrying eggs, it’s the season…”


“Stuff your gods damned ovipositor in me then,” growled Dayna, clambering across the surface of the desk and grabbing one of the surprised beast’s writhing tentacles, “and pump me full of your eggs. I. Need. To. Be. Fucked.”


“Oh dear,” stammered the librarian, visibly taken aback by his friend’s aggressive behaviour. Dayna had perched herself on the edge of the desk and was attempting to stuff one of his squirming limbs into her drooling quim. As the wriggling length slid into her slippery fuck-hole, the warm, tight embrace stirred his own needs. Beneath his primary eye, he felt his ovipositor begin to extend.


Dayna watched as a broad, blunt tipped tentacle slowly emerged from the centre of the writhing nest of slightly smaller appendages beneath her friend’s hovering central mass. Unlike the slick grey skin of his other limbs, this one was mottled grey and pink and shone wetly, apparently even more slimy than the one she was currently trying to stuff into her ravenous cunt. Blue-grey veins ran in pronounced ridges along its length and the surface of the emerging organ undulated with bumps and curves.


“Look, Dayna, we can do this, but I can’t lay my eggs in your cunt if you’ve just been inseminated by someone… or something,” said Trelis. He reached out with a few more tentacles and began wrapping them around the pale skinned contours of the elf’s body. The warmth radiating from her skin and the softness of her flesh, especially her perky breasts and rounded ass, was igniting the desire to breed and deposit his eggs within a slick, wet hole.


“I just don’t care, Trelis,” moaned Dayna. The slimy smooth feeling of the squirming limbs enveloping her and rubbing against her lust scorched skin was driving her to previously unknown heights of desire. “Just stick it in meee! Make me cummm!”


“There’s something more,” continued the beholder, wrapping a tentacle around each of the elf’s limbs and lifting her aloft. “I may know a spell that could help you control this lust. It wouldn’t get rid of it, but it could help make it more manageable.”


Trelis began slowly sliding the fleshy filament in the elf’s dripping pussy back and forth. The suspended and restrained woman writhed and contorted herself as her twat was fucked by the greasy appendage.


“Whatever you say,” grunted the pleasure wracked mage, trying to drive her aching cunny further down the wide limb inside it.


Trelis lifted his ovipositor until it hung in the air just below the cleft of Dayna’s buttocks. A steady stream of slime dripped from the small opening at the end of it and he moved the turgid member until it was prodding against the nearly insensate elf’s sphincter. The strange goo pumped out and smeared across the entrance to her anus and Dayna felt a bizarre combination of numbing and tingling where the sloppy substance made contact with her skin. Trelis flexed his breeding organ and Dayna let out a ululating moan as she felt her sphincter spread and eventually engulf the bumpy, girthy tool. The beholder used the tentacles he had wrapped around his friends heaving tits to tweak and tease her painfully erect nipples as he steadily fed his veiny protrusion into the hot confines of her ass.


Dayna’s cunt sprayed fem-cum as her first tremendous orgasm battered her body. Her cunt convulsed and clenched upon the squirming tentacle within it and her ass squeezed around her friend’s monstrous ovipositor as it wormed its way up her anal passage, spewing out pulsing waves of goo to ease its progress.


“Oh fuck!” she screamed. “Oh FUCK!”


Trelis gasped at the tight, hot pressure that clamped down on his fleshy breeding tube.


“Darling, that ass of yours feels perfectly exquisite, but please, this is a library! Try to keep it down!”


“Oh Trelis, just shut up and fuck my ass!” came the elven mage’s impertinent response.


Trelis sighed and, taking matters into his own tentacles, snaked one between the airborne woman’s breasts, coiling it gently around her neck before feeding its sensitive length into her gasping mouth. With her limbs held immobile and all her holes filled with the beholder’s slimy filaments, Dayna could do naught but hang in the air, her body quivering with pleasure as Trelis’ undulating organs fucked her thoroughly. The goo steadily pumping into her anus eventually filled her passage to the point that it began escaping from her gaping sphincter in spurts, squeezing past the squirming member that was stuffing her rump so delectably to drip in heavy wet dollops onto the surface of the desk below.


“I can feel the eggs coming, my dear,” moaned the librarian as he felt the pressure building at the base of his ovipositor. “Hold fast. This could feel a little strange.”


Dayna had little choice in the matter, suspended in the air as she was, but nothing could tear her away from the almost religious experience of the most complete fucking she had ever had. From her lofty position, the elf looked between her spread thighs and swooned with desire as she saw a chain of prominent lumps, each slightly larger than a plum, progressing steadily up the beholder’s lengthy organ towards her asshole.


As the first of his eggs began to push past the muscle of her sphincter, the librarian began to chant an incantation in a low, steady tone. Dayna felt her anal ring flex and give way, permitting the egg entrance, and another rollicking climax shuddered through her used body. She unconsciously sucked hard on the tentacle filling her mouth while her other stuffed holes convulsed and spasmed helplessly. Trelis’s spell was short, and as the third egg popped into her back passage, the hovering creature joined his partner in gasping pleasure.


“Ungh! Yes! Take my eggs!” moaned the librarian. His fleshy filament throbbed as the eggs popped free from its length to nestle into the quivering elf’s bowels. Each egg’s entry caused more of the goo he had previously pumped into his friend’s anus to spurt out in a sloppy, squelching pulse.


The door to the office opened and the acolyte from the front desk stepped into the room. He looked up from the sheaf of tomes he carried, eyes widening as they absorbed the sight in front of him - Dayna, held aloft by Trelis’ squirming tentacles, breasts squeezed by coils of the fleshy organs, her holes plugged and glistening goop oozing from her stretched ass as a knotty chain of eggs worked their way along the librarian’s ovipositor to be deposited in the young elf’s butt.


“I’ll just leave this here, then,” murmured the stunned youth before backing out of the office and closing the door hurriedly behind him.


With a final, tired moan, Trelis pumped his last egg into the tight confines of Dayna’s rump. The elf was shattered, worn out by countless orgasms, and hung limply in his grasp. With an affectionate sigh he gently laid the slime dripping woman on the desk and unwound his limbs from her body. Her abdomen was swollen slightly with the weight of the numerous eggs he had pumped into her and the librarian was careful as he cleaned her with a towel and redressed her in her robes.


Dayna slept peacefully for some time and the light outside the window was fading when she finally opened her eyes. The office was empty and, tottering slightly due to the bloated sensation in her gut, she opened the oak door and peeked out. The library was quiet. She could see the orb-like body of Trelisopoles hovering behind the main desk.


“Uh, hi Trelis,” she whispered as she wobbled her way to the desk.


“Hi yourself,” replied the beholder.


“Um. Sorry. About what happened. Earlier,” apologized Dayna.


“Think nothing of it, my dear,” said her friend with affection in his voice. “In fact, thank-you. I haven’t had a fuck like that in a very long time. It was most… liberating.”


“I, uh, liked it too,” said the young mage, her embarrassment fading. “But what about this extra load I’m carrying around now?”


“Oh, don’t worry about it. They’re not fertilized and you should be able to push them out fairly easily. Might even be fun,” he grinned and handed her the sheaf of tomes from the archives. “Here, this is for you.”


“You’re amazing,” said Dayna. “Thanks so much. For everything.”


“Like I said earlier, dear; think nothing of it.”


Back in her quarters later that night, Dayna was squatting over a bucket. Biting her bottom lip, the elf contracted the muscles of her ass. Below her, her pussy was dripping once more, strands of lady lube pooling into the wooden container. The desire was still there, the erotic sensation of squeezing Trelis’ eggs from her asshole inflaming her need once more, yet the lust was not clouding her mind as it once had and Dayna smiled to herself as a shudder of pleasure rippled up her spine and the first egg dropped into the bucket. Open on the floor before her was the archival tome. The elven mage’s smile grew wider as she read the words on the page in front of her; ‘Omnigarch Stone -Redtooth Orc Tribe - Eastern Reaches’. Feeling positively buoyant, the elf pondered a way to make the experience of laying Trelis’ eggs even more pleasurable. If only she had a decent cock to sit on…


With a mischievous light glinting in her eye, the elf called out to her familiar.


“Gomp, get in here!”

 

[balthazar]

If anyone reads this story and is waiting for the next part, I've run into a small problem - I can't post the next chapter because it's over the character limit. Possibly something to do with the new server?

 

[Noob Salad]

Just use Google Docs and make a new post whenever you have an update.

 

[balthazar]

Here's the google docs link to Chapter 10.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1R5kzezCweojZqfoudVhf0Qie7QVue-uo_MVCOI6OGwM/edit?usp=sharing

 

[balthazar]

Aaaaand here's Chapter 11.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tTURdqVUpH9g7Sy4kWZH2ki8ihjF9AHJmfohnIOz1-E/edit?usp=sharing

 

[balthazar]

Chapter 12

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1B4MyKAQcSkJHqXnrYQWbHnakfKdJoZtcFuPLrmuJSYw/edit?usp=sharing

 

[balthazar]

Chapter 13

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FL9LFizrfKImkAeFxwFSZz_nDXKcM1PvBfZpwhJB17M/edit?usp=sharing

 

[balthazar]

Chapter 14

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jWJTdaA8r6TyutK7_xTGeTg_q2BWXSL6hrYWsfAeVJ0/edit?usp=sharing

 

[balthazar]

Chapter 15

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1E7Yx-WHAGAFFJqDsEgDpJUsHpcpZ70X5eem3Z1q7M1k/edit?usp=sharing