Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: In the desert
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The lacy black underwear which are so transparent that they are almost invisible, or the obscenely small red ones that hardly cover more than my nipples? I guess I’ll choose the red ones today.
It’s too cold today to wear a skirt, so I’ll need pants. I select one of my few pairs I have to choose from, so tight that I can’t imagine them ever seeming comfortable to a person. Black.
For a top I have a bit more selection. I’ll wear the dark blue top: silky and breezy, with thin straps. It shows off a lot of chest, and all of my shoulders.
I watch myself dress in the dirty mirror in my “room”. It’s more like a cell, with only one small window that is too high to look through, and a small bed. But it’s more than a lot of the girls have. Most of the other prostitutes have to share rooms with each other, but I was a top seller. It gave me a tiny bit of privilege.
A quick, simple braid for my hair. It doesn’t need to look too good - they’re not interested in my hair.
As quick as I can, I dash up the stairs. I get to the top, not even breathing heavily. The energy of youth sometimes seems endless, though some days I feel almost too tired to move. But I’ve learned that moving when I don’t feel like it is much better than the alternative, which is often a hard belting.
My owner isn’t afraid of leaving marks. Any cuts, bruises or welts can be healed and erased by the local corrupt clerics. Everyone’s out to make a couple of gold pieces. And that fat cleric who patches us up makes more each month than he can carry.
I step through the curtains that separate the stairs from the main waiting room. Several men are waiting in the chairs; some too uncomfortable to look at anyone, some conversing freely with each other. Among them, I recognize a couple of regular customers.
One man stands in the center of the room, and seems to demand attention. His attire is simple: a set of dark green leggings, and a brown long-sleeved shirt over his body, and plain leather shoes. He isn’t dressed nearly as impressively as some, and his posture is far from that of the noble paladins who often frequent these small, illegal locales.
He looks at me and smiles, “Amariel? I believe I have an appointment of sorts.”
It’s not often that a client knows my name; a rarity, in fact. I manage not to let the surprise show on my face. I give him a big smile, one that speaks of childish innocence, yet hints at sweaty things done in dark rooms. I trail one hand down my side, tracing my curves, watching his reaction.
Even if he were pretending to not be interested, which he wasn’t, his body would have told otherwise. The growth that stretches his pants tells me all I need to know. I give him a seductive wink, and coyly turn to lead him up the stairs to the business chambers.
I don’t need to turn back to make sure he is following me, despite how silent his footfalls on the stairs are: I’ve always had great hearing. A gift from my elven mother, I suppose. It’s about all she ever gave me. I’ve been in this place longer than I can remember.
I get to the door that leads to our room, one that is used exclusively for my customers and myself. It is equipped with the biggest bed (which is often needed for the amount of clients I serve at once) and a jar of cream to make certain activities much… smoother.
I glance at him and give him a beckon with a single finger, and turn my rear to him. I push open the door and step in, looking back as the man enters and closes the door behind him. He walks up to me and ensnares me with his arms, pulling me close and pressing his face into mine.
This one isn’t like the others, I think to myself, he’s… different.
My mouth parts and I kiss back, almost wincing as his tongue meets mine. After only a moment of kissing, my head begins to feel woozy.
I step back from him and sway a bit, one hand pressed to my head. “Whoa, now,” he coos, “easy does it. Charm’s a bit much for you?” He reaches out a hand and steadies me. Then, walking ahead, he leads me by the hand to the bed.
I turn to him and press in close, suddenly wanting nothing more than to press myself on him for hours.
“Why don’t you strip off a layer or two, you look hot.” He says to me, and I immediately comply.
I slip my top over my head, and quickly step out of my tight pants. Dressed now only in my skimpy undergarments, I press against him again. Wrapping my arms around him, I slip them under his shirt and feel his strong back and shoulder muscles. I lift up his shirt and pull it over his head. It gets caught on his head for a moment, but I can’t tell what it gets caught on – my eyes are too busy somewhere else.
His chest is amazing. Toned and built, every inch of him was a perfect example of manliness. As I pull his shirt the rest of the way off and fling it aside, I marvel at his beauty. His abdomen is lined with muscles and his shoulders look like they would suit a minor deity.
I wrap my arms around him again and mash my lips against his. One of his hands finds itself caressing the back of my head, and the other one is on my back, holding me close. I press my crotch against his and rub myself against him, doing my best to get him excited. It’s not hard to tell that I’m doing a good job.
I let go of him with one arm, and trail my fingers along the band of his pants. Sneaking down the front, I trail my fingers down, and find an immense amount of hair. I had seen hairy men before, but this was just weird!
I sweep my hand gently along his pelvis, trying to figure out where this hairline begins or ends. Alas, a fruitless endeavor, as his hair seems to be an entire coating on his legs.
I reach my hand a little lower and find something even more interesting than hair. I grasp his firm member and start to slide my hand up and down its length. Yet again I’m surprised as I feel out his incredible measurement. I pump his long tool a few times, and it hardens in my hand. Even longer? Now that’s just ridiculous.
I run my other hand through the curly hair on his head, and find yet a third surprise! A bizarre protrusion sticks out from just above his forehead. I feel it, trying to figure it out, and find that there is matching one beside it. I step back, towards the bed, and look at him, realizing that I hadn’t noticed his stubby horns before!
“Yeah, people tend not to notice those.”
He steps forward and lightly pushes me towards the bed, and I sit down onto it with a ‘plop’. He grasps his trousers, quickly undoes the tie at the front, and drops them down, revealing his marvelous lower body.
The first thing I notice is the hair. By the gods, that’s a lot of hair! The second thing I notice is, of course, the large member hanging down from him. The third thing I notice only while he is stepping out of his pants, is that he has hooves instead of feet.
“You’re a-a-a..” I stutter, trying to find the word I’m looking for.
“A what?” He asks, a cute inquisitive smile on his face.
He bursts out laughing, seeming to find me confusion hilarious. His laughter is far less manly and more…….goatly?
“A goat?” I ask him.
“Almost. I’m a satyr.” He leans forward and pushes me onto my back. One of his hands shoots up and grabs my lacy thong. Instead of pulling it off, he slips one finger down the front, and traces the entrance to my vagina. “And you look lovely when you’re confused.”
He kisses me again, and my head swims. The name ‘satyr’ rings a bell, but in my condition I can’t think of a thing.
He gently applies pressure with his finger and slides it into me. I moan at this slow motion, and wrap my arms around him, gently smoothing down the hair on his back. He slides his middle finger deep into me, then slowly withdraws it. When he has his finger half out, he pushes it back in, this time curling it as he goes.
As his fingertip gently tickles my inner wall, I moan again and press my crotch against his hand.
“Anxious, are you?” He asks me in a whimsical tone. “Don’t worry, you’ll get yours.”
Again he pulls his finger part way out and straightens it before pushing it back in. His thumb gently presses into the tender skin of my pelvis as his fingers moves faster and faster.
He’s somehow doing with one finger what many men are unable to do with their whole bodies. The warmth from my crotch radiates up my body and I moan, pressing harder against his hand. My hands grab my lacy bra and pull it off, throwing it across them room. I grasp his head with my hands and pull him towards my face, kissing him deeply again.
Suddenly he pulls his finger out, and I whimper, “No, don’t stop!”
He doesn’t respond, instead kissing me more passionately. His hand grabs the thin piece of fabric that hides my wet hole and he pulls it off in a swift motion. He presses himself close and I feel his monstrous member lying on me, stretching from my hips almost to my naval.
He pulls his face away from mine and sticks his finger in my mouth, flooding my taste buds with my own flavour. I suckle on his finger, desperately trying to get all of the juices off.
I feel him slide down, and his long penis slowly slides down my stomach, leaving a thin trail of precum. Slowly and surely he drags himself down. He’s teasing me. That bastard.
Finally, he lines his head up with my soaking hole. He pulls his finger out of my mouth and puts it on the bed by my head. As I lie on my back, him over top of me, he starts pushing against me.
I feel his bulbous cock-head press against my tight, wet lips, and start trying to enter. As he presses his huge head against me I wince and tense up, remembering the orcs who has used me not long ago.
“Now, now, girl” he coos. “We must try to relax.” And with that, he leans forward and gently kisses me, making my head spin and the room rush.
As my head spins and my body goes limp, he takes full advantage. As he presses again, I feel him part my lips and slowly begin the tedious work of sinking into me. A pain flares from the invasion of the huge member, but feels it like it’s happening to someone else.
Slowly and gently he eases forth, caring and not impatient. As his wide head finally passes through my silken arch, he pauses for a moment: not to revel in the feeling, but instead to let me accommodate myself to his size. Our lips rub together and our tongues swirl, and I feel his thin beard tickle my chin. My fingers roam is back, finding yet again more hair.
As I explore his back and taste his mouth, he hips begin to gently slide forwards again. His gargantuan organ resumes its gradual stretching of me as it begins a journey seemingly to my center.
Still deeper he presses in, and I feel his length slowly slipping in, as a snake returning to its burrow: familiar and intimate. All of this I notice, but barely feel as my vision swims and my senses blur.
I close my eyes and seem to pass out. When my eyes decide to crack open, I look up to see his charming, smiling face. I feel his furry thighs against my own, and feel his scrotum gently resting against my rump.
“See, my child? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He asks of me, either in concern or in mockery, though I couldn’t tell which.
“H-h-how do you fit?” I stutter, “That monstrous thing couldn’t possibly fit in me.”
“It’s just the right length, ma’am. It always is.”
Before I can even ponder the meaning of that statement, I feel him begin to pull back and his incredible width slide out of me, taking my breath away. As he gets partway out, he pushes back in, widening me out, making me ready for him. His end sinks in, nearly pressing against my cervix, and I feel his testicles once more rest against me. They’re huge! I think to myself, why are they always huge? He rolls his hips back again, working his way out of me until only his head is inside before pushing back into me. This time, he goes in slightly faster, and I moan as I feel his engorged head spreading me wide open. His thick, hot penis was possibly the widest one I’d taken yet.
My breath is slowly pushed out of me as the behemoth is moved deeper inside of me. Once more it presses against my cervix and I wince with pain. “Sorry, my little dear,” he whispers into my ear, “this might be a bumpy ride.” His fur tickles against my leg as he slides his pelvis backwards, seeming to pull my innards along with him. As his tool slips out until it is barely inside of me, he repositions his legs and I grab the sheets and prepare for the furious fucking I’m about to receive.
He pushes back into me, spearing my depths with his prodding member, and I hear and feel his testicles flop against me with a slapping sound. The moment he is fully inside me he begins to pull out. Before he has slid out more than an inch or two, he shoves back in again, making me rock back and moan in delight. He feels huge, but his size feels right.
The ridge of his head tickles along my innermost walls as he drags it out of me even quicker than before and starts pushing it without delay. My breath catches in my throat for a moment as he thrusts in faster.
The slick sounds of his manhood slopping along my juices and the rhythmic tapping of his hot testicles against my ass is only disturbed by him asking, “Is this too hard?”
A sound escapes my throat, a low, lustful laugh, “Are you serious? Give it to me as hard as you can!”
His grin splits his face and his thrusts pick up their pace, and I feel his length slithering into me faster than before. He lowers his face to mine, lips nearly brushing my own, and I press up into him, wrapping my legs around his hips.
His hips buck under my legs and his warm, veined shaft rubs my insides while one of his hands roams down my chest. I press my lips to his and open my mouth, letting our tongues mingle again as his mighty penis bumps into my innermost surface, making me grunt in pain and pleasure.
The tingling starts in the walls of my vagina, buzzing and wiggling in anticipation. I break our kiss just long enough to say, “Harder!”
He obliges me by slamming into me hard enough to make me slide a bid and leans fully onto me, mashing his hairy chest against my breasts. He grips my shoulders, and pushes into me more furiously than before, his steady pounding pushing me along a track towards an explosive finale. Again he pulls back and pushes back in, pressing himself into me. I run my fingers through his chest hair and moan, a long and drawn-out sound. His testicles hit against me and his pubic hair presses into my mound, each another sensation to be added to the list.
The tingling in me builds more, threatening to overwhelm all. All I can do is gasp as his wonderful and painful pounding continues. Each time his thick cock slams into me, it brings a wave of pleasure and a building sensitivity with it.
I feel sweat start to build up on my body as I push myself against him, trying to get him even deeper into me. As it is, his shaft is already pumping in and out of me as deep as I can handle. The sensations keep building up, coming close to their destination.
He starts grunting and manages to utter, “I’m about to finish!” He awaits no answer and continues his pounding into me. He seems to harden even more, going from tensed muscle to almost steel-hard.
My building orgasm seems to almost reach an apex, leaving me teetering on the edge over a chasm of euphoria.
Then, suddenly, I feel his penis give a mighty twitch as he slams into me again and he grunts his arrival. Again and again he slams his thick cock into me, and I feel the first gush of semen force its way out of his tip into me.
The feeling of his friction, the heat of the first wave of cum, his grunts in my ear, it’s all too much. I scream out loud and arch my back, doing all I can to shove my lower body harder against him.
Another time he shoves in, with another blast of cum to mingle with my fluids and his own. He keeps twitching inside of me, his thrusts coming in time with the waves of ejaculate. Then, finally, his last drop of his seed is squeezed out of him into me, and he collapses on top of me.
I look at his closed eyes and listen to his quick breathing, feeling my heart rate slowly begin to decelerate. Slowly, his eyes crack open and he looks into mine, but I don’t see passion or love in his eyes.
He slowly leans back, and I feel his long shaft slip out of me. As soon as that cork is gone, I get the distinct sensation of feeling the thick ooze dribble out of me. As I watch, he puts on his pants, carefully slipping them around his hoofed feet, then his shirt. He is in the middle of putting his shoes on, as I finally ask, “Aren’t you going to ask me to come along? Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen next? To the girl that finds a benevolent fey creature, like in all the stories?”
He turns to me, smiles, and reaches into his coin purse attached to his pants. He places a few gold coins on the desk and says to me, “A tip for you. You’ve definitely earned it.”
He turns his back to me and walks out the door, not looking back, and not saying goodbye. You’d think I’d be used to people walking out on me by now; I had thought so, too. I try to give a nonchalant shrug, but it comes out as a small, morose thing.
I sit up and wait for the rest of the cum, already cooling inside of me on this late autumn day, to dribble out. That finished, I slip on my clothes and get ready to go downstairs. Got to get cleaned up. Always more business to attend to.
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