I leap onto the railing of the balcony. One last fleeting glimpse of the minarets with their gilded domes. The arched windows. The sounds of revelry from neighboring buildings. It is an important night in this city. Some festival. This is not the place I am from.
But it is the place I will die. I leap from the balcony and as I fall, a moment of clarity, a face from my past. Violet skin and dark hair. A forbidden beauty I once pursued and loved.
Mishanna.
I awake with a start. Beatrix again. I look over, the night lightening to deep blue as the first predawn light reaches the horizon. Mishanna is sitting where she was when I fell asleep, her eyes open and exhausted. She looks slowly over at me in the bed and gives me a slight smile. I want to cry with the emotion I felt in my dream. Was that real? The way it happened? Or only my mind stitching things together subconsciously?
“You are awake,” croaks Mishanna, her voice hoarse from disuse.
“Yeah,” I say, sitting up more in the bed.
“It will be light soon,” she says. “I could use a bit of sleep, if you think you could keep watch.”
“Hmmm?” I scratch my head, blink away sleep and maybe a tear or two. “Yes, of course.”
I yawn and get out of bed. Mishanna slips past me and falls into the bed, her back turning as I cover her with the warm blanket. She begins to softly snore before I’ve even made it over to the chair where she was keeping watch. I sit and lean back on two legs of the chair to keep myself awake.
The sun rises in brilliant shades of red and gold through the mill’s bottle glass windows. Through the open door, I can see he stream slowly flowing past, hear the millwheel turning in the water as well as the sound of morning birds. Are they real birds or some timed illusion created by Zimon to simulate false days? The thought of Zimon creating this illusory world causes me to recall my dream of infidelity and betrayal. Not something I want to be thinking about.
I get to my feet and walk to the doorway. The mist is already burning off as the sun begins to peek above the trees and daylight fully warms the surrounding forest. I hear something strange and cock my head towards the forest. There is an unusual note among the singing birds. Something too loud and musical and not repetitious enough to be a bird.
A flute. Distant, but near enough to be heard, obviously.
I rush back into the mill, belting on my sword before shaking Mishanna awake. She blinks away sleep and looks up at me. Smiles.
“What is it, Beatrix?” She asks. “Did you want to lie down with me for—”
“I hear a flute,” I say. “Come on. Get up. There is someone playing a flute not far from here.”
I pull her out of bed and she slides her feet into her boots and retrieves her weapons. She squints unhappily at the bright daylight, shielding her face as we make our way across the shallowest spot of the stream. My boots squelch with water as we cross the path and head into the forest following the merry sound of the flute.
CONTINUE >
Tell Mishanna to try sucking Petr
“I’ve given him a wank,” I whisper to Mishanna. “There’s an obvious next thing to try.”
I make the universal gesture of a blowjob and it seems to take the elf a moment to comprehend. Mishanna nods and says, “Ah, so you will pleasure him with your mouth?”
“Me? Oh, no, it’s your turn.” I take a step back from the boulder and gesture to the sprawling satyr with his obscenely erect penis. “See if you can satisfy him with those soft elf lips.”
Petr lifts his head at my words and grins at Mishanna, his cock twitching in obvious anticipation of the wanton blowjob he is about to receive. For a moment, Mishanna looks as if she intends to draw her sword and cut her way through me and the satyr.
“Very well,” she says, evidently deciding that sucking seed is preferable to spilling blood. She turns her attention to Petr and commands him, “Sit up properly. Legs over the side.”
“Y-yes, m-miss elf,” says Petr, scooting to the edge of the boulder and dangling his furry legs over the side. Which looks rather awkward, actually, because his knees on his goat legs are backwards, so his furry legs are left angling downward as if he is lying on his belly even though he is sitting up. His cock sticks up straight from his furry lap, pink and glistening with the semen still oozing from the tip.
“Have at it, miss elf,” I say, smirking at Mishanna and earning a hateful glare in reply. I hope it is in jest.
Mishanna crouches between Petr’s stiff legs, bracing them over her shoulders as she wraps her hand around the slimy root of his cock. The satyr moans, his head lifting from the moss to watch as Mishanna leans her lips to the head of his cock. She gazes up into his eyes as she parts her lips and engulfs the head of his cock in her mouth.
“Ooooooohhhhhhh,” cries Petr, bucking his hips, but held down by her tight grip on the root of his cock. She slurps wetly on his tip, bobbing lower and up again, her lips following the bulge of his tip and her saliva washing away the residue of his cum. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks hard. Petr flails his arms and rips at the moss on the boulder. “Ohhhh! Oh! Oh no!”
Mishanna’s brow knits. Petr’s cock pulses visibly and Mishanna moans around him as he fires his cum into her mouth. Her first reaction is to wince and stop, but she catches herself and resumes bobbing on him. In fact, she seems to do so with quite a lot of relish and moaning. I can see her throat working as she swallows his seed. She keeps sucking well past his orgasm and finally, popping his still-hard cock from her lips, she gasps for breath.
“Are you alright?” I ask her, but I see that she is smiling.
“Yes!” She laughs. “Satyr seed is…mmmmm…”
She catches a pearly drop at the corner of her mouth with a fingertip. She starts to hold the drop out to me, but then decides to keep it for herself and sucks her finger clean.
“Delicious, is it?” I laugh.
“Y-y-yes,” says Petr, looking awfully embarrassed. “Yes, my seed is quite delicious and nourishing. They say the women in some towns try to strap us down and milk us like cattle.”
“Perhaps that’s what we’ll try to finally satisfy you,” I say, poking the head of his still erect penis with a fingertip.
“Mmmmm, I think we need to cooperate,” says Mishanna. “No more taking turns.”
“A double sucking then?” I say, eager to have a taste after Mishanna’s greedy gulping.
“No,” she answers quickly. “No. I have filled my belly with his seed and I fear the addicting properties of such an elixir. No, we must try something else.”
But what?
What should I suggest?
Squeeze the satyr’s cock between two pairs of breasts
Squeeze our buttocks around the satyr’s cock
Use a Power Attack against the gnome
The sight of a voluptuous deep elf barely holding her own against a tiny gnome as tall as her knees should be funny. Unfortunately, Mishanna is the only thing standing between me and getting knocked up by a gnome. I need her to win this fight and the only way she’s going to do that is to stop cringing and unleash a power attack on the beardy little bastard.
“Mishanna!” I cry, swinging from side to side under the branch. She steals a glance over her shoulder at me and the gnome seizes the opportunity to swing his walking stick at her. He manages to give her a good whack on he hip, knocking her back and bumping her into me. I steady her with my free hand.
“Don’t let that little creep bully you! You’re three times his size. Four times even!” I glance down at her plump bottom and add, “Maybe five!”
“Mind your tongue, human,” hisses Mishanna.
“You get my point,” I say, giving her a push between the shoulders. “You’re a giant to him. Unleash your giant strength! Give him everything you’ve got with a Power Attack!”
“You are simple, but you are correct,” says Mishanna, raising my sword to her shoulder and steeling herself. Her brow furrows and her silvery white eyes seem to flash. Babo hesit
ates as she raises my sword in a two-handed grip. She lets out an elven war cry and charges at him.
“Now hold on!” cries Babo, backpedaling. “You’re afraid of me! Ahhh! My little fingers, remember?”
She swings in wide, forceful slashes as she advances on him. Babo becomes more and more panicked with each step Mishanna drives him back. He ducks and dodges, parries and tumbles, but he cannot escape her furious onslaught.
“To the hells with you! Babo is out of here!” Babo turns tail to flee. Mishanna is ready for his retreat. She slams the flat of my sword into the gnome’s back and sends him flying like a leather hudgy ball. His walking stick falls from his hands and he rolls head-over-heels several more times before thumping into a tree trunk.
“Have a taste of your own magic,” says Mishanna, scooping up Babo’s staff.
The dizzy gnome looks up just in time to see his walking stick descending on his forehead. The impact is strangely hollow and echoes through the clearing. Babo immediately goes cross-eyed. A stupid grin spreads across his face and his head wobbles drunkenly.
“Do I know you?” he asks, a dazed look on his ruddy face.
Mishanna replies by snapping his walking stick and tossing it away. She lashes out with my sword, severing the rope belt holding up Babo’s trousers. His pants drop down his thighs and his cock springs free, red and glistening with his precum. Mishanna and I burst out laughing at the same time. She points at his pitifully small erection.
“I have never seen such a pathetic cock,” she laughs. “Have you, Beatrix?”
“Nope. It’s the smallest. Even smaller than those goblin cocks.”
“Those what?” Mishanna raises an eyebrow.
“Nevermind,” I say. “Back to the wee man’s wee wiener.”
“Yes!” She resumes laughing. “Oh, it is so sad. So red and sad. Like a boiled strawberry!”
“Ohhhh and hard,” moans Babo, thrusting his hips. “Don’t be mean to me. Please.”
“Quiet!” Mishanna snaps, her anger returning. She puts the tip of my blade under Babo’s chin. “Maybe I shall cut off your whiskers, gnome. I have heard gnomes think their strength comes from their beard. What say you, Beatrix? How should he be punished?”
Babo certainly deserves a memorable punishment to teach him about setting snares for women. I can think of a couple humiliations just as memorable as cutting off his beard, but perhaps a bit less cruel.
What should Mishanna do?
Make him jerk off his tiny cock
Make him pleasure her pussy
Cut off his beard
Try stroking Petr
“I’ll handle him,” I say. I bite my lower lip as I crawl onto the base of the mossy boulder. “I’ve read lots of dirty stories about satyrs and how they can pleasure a woman all night long, making her cum again and again until she goes insane. Have you ever done that?”
“N-n-no,” stammers Petr, watching me crawl between his human scale goat legs. I caress the dark brown fur of his thighs, making his cock bounce with an anticipatory spasm and leak out a stream of precum that drops to the boulder and all over his furry bollocks. “I’ve never even got it inside a woman before. M-most times they brush against me and I go off.”
“If they brush against your stiff satyr cock?” Mishanna teases, leaning against the boulder beside him so that her plump breasts squeeze together.
“Y-yes,” he says, nodding and staring from her breasts back to me as I run my hands over his furry legs and up to his shaft. I grasp his very warm and very engorged cock at its root and poor Petr lets out a cry of amazement. I wrap the fingers of one hand around him and begin to stroke up his shaft towards that fat mushroom cap of a cockhead. Petr cries out, desperately, “AaaOOooooAAaahhh! I can’t!”
His brow furrows and his face contorts as if in agony. My stroking fingers almost reach the head of his cock. He thrusts against my fingers and his fat cockhead visibly twitches. An instant later, thick streams of milky white cum are spurting into my face, against my breasts, and all over my arm and hand. I jerk my face out of the path of his gushing seed, but I gamely milk his cock until his head drops back against the boulder, whimpering desperately as I milk the buffoon’s balls.
Even Mishanna is hit by some of the spray from Petr’s spurting cock. I release my grip on his cock. Petr’s perfect manhood still twitching and hard, but surely it has to go soft soon. I hold up my hand to Mishanna, showing her the raunchy web of semen connecting my fingers. I sniff at the strong musky aroma.
“Oh, blast, his is still hard,” says Mishanna, mopping the worst of the cum from my face with a handkerchief. I happen to lick my lips and taste a bit of his cream. It’s delicious! Buttery and sweet and yet a bit salty too, like the melted honey butter that old Mrs. Isenbalt used to put on her biscuits. I lick my lips clean with relish.
“Mmmm! We will have to try something more intense to satisfy him,” I say.
“M-m-more intense than that?” Petr whimpers, his muscular chest heaving and his plentiful prick jutting straight upward from his groin. Judging by his expression, the poor satyr can’t fathom anything more pleasant than my hand on his cock.
What should I do now?
Try sucking the satyr
Tell Mishanna to try sucking Petr
Tell her to surrender meekly to the gnome
This is hopeless. Mishanna has a phobia for gnomes and I’m stuck up here dangling like a juicy morsel for him from a tree branch. The gnome has won. Convincing Mishanna to accept that might make our defeat less humiliating.
“Stop it,” I call out to Mishanna. “Stop fighting him.”
“What!?” She glances over her shoulder at me, which almost gets her bonked on the head by the gnome’s walking stick.
“Surrender to Babo,” I say. “Maybe he will go easy on us or even let us go. Surrender and beg him for mercy.”
“Never,” she cries. “He has those awful little hands! Those beady eyes. And you know what they say about their libido, right?”
“He has won, Mishanna,” I say, my frustration growing. “You can barely fight him you are so disgusted by his hands. I’m hanging here useless. We’re beaten.”
“I agree with your friend,” laughs the gnome.
Mishanna scowls and curses in her elven tongue. She tosses my sword to the ground.
“We surrender to your mercy, gnome,” she says. “We do not desire trouble.”
“Oh, I can be very merciful. But trouble?” He looks Mishanna over, walking around her to take in her curves from every angle. “With a body like that in an outfit like that? I think you desire all sorts of trouble.”
He grabs her plump buttocks with both hands and squeezes. Mishanna stiffens and cries out in dismay. Babo gives her another good squeeze before circling back around her.
“Good, good, but you’re too tall. Get down on your hands and knees, elf, so I can properly appreciate my conquest.”
Mishanna reluctantly obeys him, getting down upon her hands and knees in the grass, her wide hips and big, heart-shaped bottom raised high, her head low with her dark hair hanging in her face, and her dangling breasts straining the absolute limit of the web of bandoliers and straps holding them back. Babo whistles appreciatively, stroking her flank up to her shoulder. She growls in disgust, her expression hidden by her dangling hair.
I want to call out to comfort her or shout something at Babo to get him to stop. Gods help me, I also want to see what he will do to her next. I chew my lip and remain silent as the gnome begins to caress the round onion of Mishanna’s bottom. Her buttocks seem colossal compared to the wee creature. He parts her bandolier and exposed the dark star of her anus nestled in the divot between her cheeks. Babo giggles and tickles his fingers against that plump pucker before stroking lower and teasing the folds of her elven cunt.
“Ohhhhh, you demon,” she moans. “Get it over with.”
“I won’t!” Babo laughs and gives her quim a smack with his hand, eliciting a shriek of surprise and a jerk
that makes her buttocks wobble.
The gnome follows this up by burying his fat nose in her crack and stuffing his tongue into the folds of her quim. She moans and despairs as he lustily licks her love petals, slurping and sucking and licking until his beard is dripping with elven nectar. Babo does not spare her ass his hunger. He spreads her cheeks and tongues her naughtiest hole, changing the tone of her wailing and causing Mishanna to drop her face to the ground in shame.
Despite Mishanna’s mewling and apparent discomfort, I can see her toes curling as the gnome licks her ass and back down to her quivering quim. She cannot deny the pleasure of what the gnome is doing to her any more than I can deny my lust at seeing her being pleasured.
“Ohhhhh, gods,” hisses Mishanna, her fingers curling into he grass.
“Not yet,” laughs Babo, lifting his face from her violet rump. He gives her cheeks another smack and steps away, his trousers tented by his wee cock. “I get to cum first. Then I’ll see to you and the human.”
He drops his trousers and reveals his glistening red cock, so red that and little that it reminds me of the strawberries my mother used to cook for jam. I fight back laughter. Babo ignores my tittering and waddles around to Mishanna’s side. He reaches under her, grabbing hold of the bandoliers barely restraining her breasts. He uses the leather straps to push Mishanna over onto her side and then rolls her onto her back. He stands over her, fiddling with the web of leather.
“Yes, oh, look at them,” he laughs, unbuckling the bandoliers and freeing her huge breasts to spread softly against her ribs. Her stiff nipples jut upward, betraying her arousal. She whimpers and looks away from him. “Gods, what a milker you’ll be, eh? My beautiful elf moo cow. Feeding an entire army of hungry tots!”
Babo falls upon her breasts, loudly suckling from them and squeezing them against his face. His entire head could practically disappear between Mishanna’s mounds. He manages to knock off his cap with his eagerness, moaning wantonly and eliciting more pitiful moans from Mishanna. I watch him tonguing her nipples and sucking them until her entire body is shaking. My own nipples stand erect in my blouse, eager to be sucked by the gnome until they are glistening like Mishanna’s much fatter buds.
Fertile in My Ex-Boyfriend's Dungeon 6 Page 8