From the hallway Elden called, “And for dessert, we have…”

With a soft creak, Elden wheeled the serving cart into the dining room.

In the center of an oversized silver platter lay Rosie, on her back and utterly naked, trussed up with cotton twine—legs folded and spread, ankles bound together, arms tucked and bound by her sides, breasts tied together so that they shone upwards—like the prettiest Christmas turkey.

She wore a ring gag, her head tipped back on the platter, her brown eyes dilated to a shining black.

A slick sheen surrounded her on the serving tray—none other than the juices from her puffy, glistening cunt. While the guests had been struggling through their last course, Rosie had already been trussed up and marinating in the kitchen.

And now she was hot, wet, and ready, quivering with excitement.

The two men closest to the door—the ones who’d been debating the best way to cut a cigar, and the founding members of the club—stood suddenly. Their chairs went clattering and would have fallen, if not for a wisp of Elden’s magic.

Elden wheeled Rosie to the end of the table, the room silent except for the crackle of the fire and the quickening of breath.

“W-what is the meaning of this?” said one of the men at the end of the table, with a golden pocket square and curled mustache.

“Oh fuck,” moaned the man who’d been surreptitiously stroking himself under the table.

“I’m taking seconds,” breathed the woman seated at the middle of the table.

“Good friends, p-please,” said the man with the golden pocket square. “This is h-highly unprofessional…” His cock strained mightily against the front of his trousers, a wet spot spreading from the tip.

Elden smiled warmly at them, as if he’d brought out nothing more scandalous than a pumpkin pie. “There’s plenty for everyone, I assure you,” he said to the woman in the middle of the table. Then, to everyone, “You know the manners. Take your portion and pass, please.”

The silver tray slid onto the now-empty table, aligning Rosie’s mouth with the bulge of the man with the golden pocket square, and her cunt with the other founder.

He hadn’t said anything since Elden had wheeled Rosie in, and he now stared at her quivering breasts as his hips rocked slowly, rubbing his bulge against the table.

Tension thickened in the air, as ten desperate guests looked towards their de-facto leaders for whether they were allowed to break decorum. The man who’d been stroking himself edged, but brought himself to a quivering halt, not wanting to be the first to ‘break the seal’, so to speak. The woman in the middle of the table was now quite certain that this was a dream and so didn’t see any reason to hold off.

But they all looked to the two trembling men at the end of the table, who seemed frozen in place.

The only one moving was Rosie, who trembled and wriggled with desire to free both cocks. Her pleas turned to moans around the ring gag as another gush of juices joined the puddle in the serving tray. She wanted nothing more than to be spit-roasted like the holiday meal she so closely resembled.

It was for her benefit that Elden let the moment drag on so long. He would not let the Convention claim that he had not rendered adequate punishment. He could leave out the part about her enjoying it.

Finally, Elden said, “Please, honored guests. This is a cherished Christmas tradition of our culture. Your enthusiastic participation would be most honoring.”

“W-when you put it that way,” said the man who had been humping the table as he promptly dropped his trousers and freed his throbbing length. He plunged it into Rosie’s cunt, and they both moaned with the ecstasy of relief.

Still, the man with the gold pocket square hesitated.

“Now, be very honest,” Elden said to him, magic weaving into his words. “Do you want this?”

“Fuck, yes,” breathed the man.

“Why do you hesitate?”

“It j-just seems so… so… crass.”

“Ah!” said Elden. “But of course. I may as well have asked you to take your own coat off, good sir.” Elden’s slender fingers hovered over the man’s belt buckles. “May I?”

The man nodded with as much dignity as he could muster while his friend pounded into Rosie.

Elden was in no hurry as he carefully undid the man’s belt, slipping it out of the loops and drawing a deep shudder, carefully placing it over the back of the chair and then slowly undoing each trouser button.

The man’s decorum melted with each touch until his throbbing cock rested naked on Elden’s fingers, and the elf guided it into Rosie’s mouth.

“Don’t worry,” Elden said, trailing a finger down Rosie’s breast before giving her nipple a light pinch. “She doesn’t need to breathe much.”

The last few threads of the man’s will snapped as his hips bucked of their own accord, driving his cock deep into Rosie’s hot throat. She gulped and swallowed around him, desperate for his release, heedless of a mortal’s need for oxygen.

And so the two founding members fucked Rosie onto each others’ cocks, moans quickly reaching a fever pitch.

Those anxious for their turns did not have to wait long, as the vice grip of Rosie’s cunt and the greedy pressure of her tongue soon rewarded her. As the co-founder gave one last thrust before he burst, Rosie sucked the other over the edge.

They had barely slumped into their chairs before the next pair of men grabbed the platter and pulled her onto their waiting cocks.

The man who had started stroking under the table had now edged two more times and was openly masturbating, leaning against the table with one hand and pumping with the other. “H-hurry the fuck up,” he growled.

Elden appeared at his shoulder. “Come now,” he crooned. “There’s no rush. Wouldn’t she look lovely basted? You’ll have plenty more to give.”

“Oh fuck, you’re right. I’m s-so… s-so… oh fuck, here it comes!” The man’s whole body stiffened as he erupted across Rosie’s leg, stomach, and breasts—far, far more than should have been possible.

In the doses usually administered, the supernatural effects of the Valentines Day concoction were subtle, but at these doses there was no hiding it, especially as the man hardly slowed his stroking.

“Fuck, I’ve never cum that hard…” The man kept moaning as his slicked hand slid easily over his shaft. “And I think I might… I think I’m gonna cum again… I’m gonna, I’m gonna!” The man’s eyes rolled back as he fucked through his hand and showered Rosie with another equally thick orgasm. This time, his stroking slowed, though his cock still throbbed and dripped.

“H-holy shit, Chuck, where did that come from?” said the woman across from him, who was rubbing her breasts through her shirt, her suit coat already haphazardly slung over the back of her chair, as her own wetness ran down her leg.

“I d-don’t fucking know,” he said, “But fuck it felt good…”

The man at Rosie’s mouth groaned and came down her throat, her chest bobbing with every swallow.

The woman wasted no time kicking off her trousers and hauling the end of the platter with Rosie’s head towards herself, even though the man at Rosie’s cunt wasn’t done yet. The woman clambered up onto the table, and dropped her sopping cunt onto Rosie’s face, earning a delighted moan from Rosie.

“Fuck!” said the man at her cunt. “T-that’s making her squeeze so tight, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” His legs nearly dropped out from under him as he pumped into Rosie.

The woman riding Rosie’s face smirked. “All these greedy men, and you haven’t cum yet, have you sweetie? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Before the man who’d basted Rosie could take his position, the woman buried her fingers into Rosie’s cunt and reached around to find Rosie’s spot.

Rosie screamed with delight, as the man who’d basted her looked up incredulously.

“It’s my turn,” he said to the woman.

She rocked her hips against Rosie’s face. “Is it? You just came. Twice. So I think that means I get both holes now. Unless this little cutie likes it in the ass…” The woman looked back at Rosie.

Rosie nodded emphatically into the woman’s cunt.

“Well there you go.” The woman pulled hard on Rosie’s spot and Rosie moaned, tucking her hips to give easier access to her ass. With her legs so nicely trussed and spread, it was an easy thing.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said the man, and he plunged inside.

Rosie’s moans escalated to smothered screams as the woman worked her cunt and the man pounded her ass. Rosie gushed around the woman’s hand, splattering the man’s hips.

“I-is she cumming?” he asked.

The woman chuckled. “Oh, when she cums, you won’t have to ask.”

As if on cue, Rosie’s breathing quickened and then hitched into one long, high scream as she squirted even harder, cunt and ass clenching with the waves of her climax.

“Fuck!” the man said, slamming one last time into Rosie’s ass. He emptied with a few clenches of his ass, even as Rosie kept cumming around him. “I-it’s like she’s m-milking me…”

The woman’s breathing quickened too. “Th-that’s right cutie, fucking milk that ba— ah… Ohhhh fuck!” She trembled through her own pulsing orgasm, and would have fallen off the table if Elden hadn’t been there to catch her and lower her into her chair.

As the next pair of men claimed Rosie’s throat and ass, the following pair were struck with that particular creativity that comes from being overwhelmingly horny, and found angles that let them fuck Rosie’s tits and cunt respectively.

That left only the man and woman who were closest to the fire, and who were now already entirely naked, due to the sweltering heat both within and without. They were both still in their seats, the woman with her fingers buried in her cunt and the man stroking his dripping cock, contemplating what they would do on their turn.

Hardly four thrusts in, the man at Rosie’s throat grunted and stiffened. The one sliding between her tits smirked. “Losing it already?”

“N-no,” he said, pulling out as if to prove it, but his cock throbbed and oozed from the ruined orgasm. Two more strokes with his hand had him erupting all over Rosie’s face. Instead of slumping back, he slid his still-dripping cock down her throat. “Fuck, I need more…”

One by one, the four men fucking Rosie finished (or finished again), moaning and emptying, filling and coating Rosie with another layer of cum.

As the platter slid to the end of the table, directly in front of the final man and woman, they were each hard pressed to part their hands from their throbbing genitals. So they didn’t, and the man buried his face in Rosie’s cunt while the woman cupped a breast for Rosie to suck on.

Meanwhile, the founders found themselves craving another round and stood at the end of the table, soon basting Rosie with their own prodigious contributions.

The sight and sound pushed the last two over the edge, the man bathing the floor and the woman soaking her chair.

Though that was hardly the end of it. True to Elden’s promise, they each had seconds and thirds and fourths or more. The platter filled with jubilant juices, and Rosie was thoroughly glazed with them. As the haze of urgency gave way to merry fucking, the two women took bets on who and how Rosie would cum again, and the men did their best to prove their prowess.

They milked another pulsing, gushing orgasm from her with a cock down her throat, a cock up her ass, fingers in her cunt, and a mouth at each breast. Her muffled screams of ecstasy filled the festive dining room as her juices filled the serving tray to nearly overflowing.

One by one, each guest succumbed to exhaustion, and Elden returned them to their spot at the table to slumber peacefully.

The last one standing—or, more accurately, sitting in his chair, head in his hand, too tired to stand but too horny to stop stroking himself—was the man who’d been first to stroke himself under the table and who had consumed the most of the magicked wine.

Rosie caught her breath, still trussed and juiced on the table, as Elden conjured himself a clean chair so that he could sit next to the last guest.

“And how are you feeling?” Elden asked.

“S-still so fucking horny…” he said. Indeed, his cock was dripping and had been for some time, forming a growing puddle at his feet. He stroked desperately, but his exhausted arm couldn’t provide enough stimulation.

“Put your arm down,” Elden said.

The man obeyed, though his hips bucked reflexively.

“Look into my eyes,” Elden said. “Focus.”

The man did so.

Elden’s eyes gleamed with magic. “Let it all out. Every last drop.”

Heat rushed over the man’s body and he relaxed, even as his cock twitched. His hands stayed limp at his side. “O-okay… yeah… oh yeah… fuck…”

With a quiet sigh of relief, the man’s twitching cock erupted another two orgasm’s worth of cum onto the floor between his feet, working out the last of the aphrodisiac and finally releasing him into peaceful slumber.

Continued in Part IV

Part 3: On the Job, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 21: Field Research

Fortunately for Linza and her research goals, there were plenty of experiences that welcomed voyeurs. She would have had to pay for the pleasure, in fact, had she not been on staff.

This particular experience involved six handsome men and a sitting room. At the center was the performance, and the voyeurs could each choose one of the many different kinds chairs that ringed the space, according to their tastes.

Linza had ended up curled in a wingback, partially for the sense of safety that the high back and sides around her provided. She was excited more than apprehensive, but the closeness of the chair comforted her all the same.

The guest in this encounter was a middle-aged woman with dark skin and short hair. Linza had noticed that guests at the pleasure house tended to be in middle or advanced age. She’d at first bought into the idea that they perhaps found it more difficult to find partners than younger folks. But then Linza had started to understand, especially with her guests in the illusion rooms, that the truth was that it took most folks some years to develop the boldness to pursue what they truly wanted. The older folks were more picky about their sexual encounters, not less.

And Linza was confident that sexuality and youth did not correlate one bit. Some of the most attractive, beautiful, vital people she’d ever seen were these people of so-called middle and advanced age.

This guest had a particular magic around her, a brilliant energy, and the six male hosts of the experience needed only do what came naturally. There were two half-orcs, a half-elf, and three humans, twelve eyes totally captivated by their guest.

They all wore robes to start and milled around the center of the room until it was time.

Then the guest dropped her robe.

The men started fawning over her immediately, sidling up to catch her attention, dropping their robes to reveal their own nakedness and throbbing erections.

“Please will you have me?”

“Don’t I please you most?”

“I’ll pleasure you the best.”

She put a finger to her lips and regarded the six of them. She lingered in that moment until they were each pawing at her, begging and pleading. She raised a hand. “Enough. I’ve made my decision. I’ll have all of you.”

And then she was swept into their arms, pulled into the middle of them, abruptly, insistently. As with every experience at the estate, this would have been discussed with the guest prior, to ensure that everything was to her liking.

Though, ‘liking’ was an understatement. The guest reveled in their attentions, delighted in their desperation.

The men ushered her gently over an ottoman and then there was a dick in her mouth and a dick in her sex. The other four ran their hands over her, taking turns kissing her hips, suckling her breasts, fondling her curves, stroking themselves all the while.

Linza sat in the wing-backed chair, hands over her face and watching through parted fingers. She breathed quickly. Everything in her body, her mind, responded to the erotic scene before her. Her false modesty thus displaced, there was only a burning and throbbing desire. It surprised her. She’d been guiding people to masturbate for weeks now—but here, they were seeing her seeing them. There were more bodies, more sweat, more moaning.

Linza kept her hand at her face as much so that she wouldn’t start masturbating as anything else. She needed to focus. Needed to etch these memories in her mind, to record them in her repertoire, to notice all the subtle little details. The ways the muscles of their abdomens clenched as waves of desire hit them. The coordinated but not-quite-simultaneous way their eyes and touch followed the guest as she moved. The way that one man’s gasping desire spurred the other five on. The way their eyes settled on her jiggling ass, her swinging breasts, her blissy face.

Linza even noticed how they subtly watched each other and paced themselves. These were not necessarily details that she’d represent in a fantasy, but she appreciated them. They were the real work of crafting a scenario like this, the control and coordination so subtle you almost didn’t notice, all to enable them to all climax at the same time.

Thinking of that eventuality, Linza couldn’t wait. Literally, she could no longer force her hand to stay on her cheek, and instead it fell to press at her mound through the thin layer of her skirt. Her underwear was already soaked. But she dared not miss a single detail.

Especially not when the guest’s breathing deepened and she grabbed the ass of the man with his dick in her mouth and pulled him deep. When his face melted into total abandon and Linza knew that there was no way he could stop the impending orgasm that was pulling all his muscles tight, like an arrow drawn on a bowstring.

And with all the discipline of a military unit, the other five nocked their arrows and waited.

The guest’s orgasm began and she moaned around the shaft of the first man.

And then his arrow loosed and he pulsed his cum down her throat.

And the other five released their volley, the arcs of cum hanging in the air for a precious moment before falling across her body in a criss-cross of heat and relief.

The sound of six male orgasms in unison echoed in Linza’s ears and mind as she captured as much fidelity as she possibly could.

And then they slowed, and the woman lay happily upon the ottoman. She beckoned one of the men down and he kissed her as the others toweled her off and lavished gentle touches upon her.

Linza gulped. Her monetary goals and trained modesty were suddenly directly at-odds with how desperately she wanted to be the subject of this kind of experience. Yet, she would be embarrassed to have so much attention lavished upon her! Or… would she be embarrassed at the attention itself? Or simply her desire for it? She had no answer for that yet and did not expect to for some time. So, she watched the denouement of the experience with a quiet, desperate awe, her own arousal pounding through her veins.

She glanced around. Most of the other voyeurs had already climaxed or left to do so elsewhere. She could hardly start now, could she? In the heat of the moment, nobody would have paid much attention to her. Here and now, though—they’d notice! Would they like it? Would they touch themselves again? She wanted very deeply such a scenario but she couldn’t quite bring herself to ask for it. This was why such conversations were best had before the heat of lust.

And so she stayed in the chair, one hand on her cheek and the other over her skirt on her mound, not quite committing to doing anything else.

Eventually, the men and the guest and the rest of the audience left, leaving her there alone and with the lights dimmed.

It was the kindest thing they possibly could have done.

Without anything to hold her back, Linza pulled up her skirt and pulled down her underwear. She buried her hand deep inside of herself. “Fuck! Nnnngh…”

She heaved up and out of the chair and over to the ottoman that the guest had laid across. Linza lay on her back and with a trembling hand she summoned a minor illusion. It was static and the backs of the men would be fuzzy, not quite within the range of the illusion, but the most important part was rendered in perfect clarity.

Their cum in frozen arcs, hanging in the air. Their faces contorted with need and bliss.

The vision was even more inspiring than Linza had anticipated. Almost before she realized it, she was cumming—that delicious blossoming of heat filling her body. Though this blossom did not bear the fruit of satisfaction, but rather of greater need.

Unable to keep her eyes open, she set the sounds of the six men’s moans to play over and over again around her. She tried to savor the experience but could not escape the tendrils of urgent arousal that had wrapped around her and she gasped and panted and begged until she finally reached another climax.

This one released her out of need and into soft relaxation.

She heaved herself up and collapsed back into the wingback chair to take a moment to recover. She was confident that already she would have a little something extra for her guests. But her endeavor was far from over, she concluded. As with any kind of research—the more data, the better.

Part 3: On the Job, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 16: First Time

Her first night on the schedule, Linza felt nervous right until the first patron came through the door.

But as the slender old man with the kind face had kneeled respectfully on the mat, Linza’s nerves melted away.

His wife had died some years prior. He couldn’t bring himself to touch anyone other than her. And he had no interest in summoning a specter of her. Rather, there was a game that both of them had liked. They had been gardeners and had been fond of imagining their prize rose bushes come to life and returning some of the loving attention that he and his wife lavished upon them.

No thorns for him—just plump blossoms and stroking tendrils.

Linza imaged the sunny afternoons, the gentle touches. The tender affection, the perfume of roses in the air. She started with the static illusions, simple cantrips. He provided a few additional details, and she wove those in.

And then she cast the spell that brought the tendrils to life. They wrapped around his shaft as rose petals rained from the air.

The old man lasted all of five minutes and climaxed with just a quiet sigh. Linza was happy to have brought him a bit of peace.

The second guest, a middle-aged woman, preferred to warm up for a while before her session, and she reclined in a velvet chaise. Linza simply waited, her mind wandering to fantasies of her own. As the woman’s breathing quickened, she requested that a harem of handsome young men wearing golden collars gather around her to masturbate and cum on her as she climaxed.

Linza obliged, giving these men an especially desperate and pleading demeanor, thick shafts already dripping, which she thought this woman would like.

The woman climaxed nearly as soon as the men appeared. They spurted a veritable fountain over her—the hot and slippery texture would feel totally real, though no clean-up would be required, so it was really quite convenient.

There were still several minutes left in the illusion, so Linza had them lick their cum off of the woman, much to her continued delight.

And then, as abruptly as her shift had begun, it was over. Just two guests, so that she wasn’t pushing her capacity so harshly if one or the other session ran over. Linza reviewed the schedule to see that there were about twenty other illusionists on staff, and each took only two or three guests per day. Some illusionists were booked out weeks in advance, since supply was so limited.

Linza rode the trolley home, collapsed into bed, and woke up just in time to scurry into her day job without being late.

Of course, that meant that she had not yet released her own accumulated arousal, not from her work the evening prior and not from the dreams of octopus mermaids that had filled the rest of her night.

So, she rubbed one out in the washroom again.

And so the next day.

And the next.

Part 4: The Trouble with Sirens, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 20: Siren’s Throng

A cold confusion surrounded her. Breathlessness, darkness, then flashes of light, hands pulling her.

After minutes — hours? seconds? — sunny warmth spread over her. There was bright light, the sound of crashing waves, and she could breathe.

Ada stirred. She was lying on a warm, dry rock some twenty feet across and forty feet up from the ocean. She was on her back, naked, human.

And she was surrounded by sirens. Male and female, all with colorful seaweed-like hair and pointed teeth, some grinning and others eyeing her watchfully. The sirens did indeed have the upper half of humans and the lower halves of fish, though the boundaries were not quite like they were usually portrayed. While many artists represented sirens as having tails that hit like trousers or skirts, leaving some ambiguity about their sexual anatomy, these sirens’ tails started lower.

They had human hips, butts, and genitalia, but from the upper thigh down their legs were lithe, muscular tails with iridescent scales and beautiful tiered fins at the end. They had patches of scales on their shoulders and down their backs as well, and curious eyes with slitted pupils like a cat.

All those curious eyes started at Ada with a certain kind of hunger that she recognized all too well.

Despite her terrifying last few minutes — hours? seconds? — she was more than willing to reciprocate that sort of attention. Was she still under their spell?

A pink, female siren scooted forward from the rest. Her breasts were small and perky, her pink seaweed hair cascading down her back and across pink and lilac scales. Her eyes were lavender and dilated to round, shining pleading. Like a puppy looking for attention — or a cat, about to pounce.

She wiggled a little further forward, on her hands and the front side of her tail. “We like you,” she said. Her voice still had a bit of the music in it, and that set Ada’s heart racing, her head a bit fuzzy again.

“I uh… okay,” Ada said. More than a bit fuzzy, then.

“You like our songs,” the siren said. She wiggled eagerly a bit more forward, until she was within reach. “Nobody likes our songs anymore. Well, almost nobody. The pirate kingdom is alright and stuff. They bring us tasty fish from far off places. But they don’t like our music. We miss having someone who likes our music.”

The rest of the sirens gathered around nodded enthusiastically. Several of the men were already sporting full erections, their eyes also fully dilated despite the bright sun.

The pink siren wiggled, a tremor going down her spine, almost like a fish caught on a hook. “We really… really… like it… when someone likes our songs.” The pink siren glanced down at Ada’s lower half, then licked her lips and swallowed.

Ada followed her gaze. There was no mistaking that the small rivulet of moisture running down the rock was from her, and it was only partly due to her dip in the ocean.

The pink siren was breathing heavily now, her small chest rising and falling quickly, sending her perky breasts quivering. “Would you like… to hear more songs?” She dragged her gaze up to look at Ada with pleading, shining yes.

“Yes,” Ada gasped, “Yes, please.”

The siren lunged forward with the speed of a pouncing cat and grabbed each of Ada’s thighs with a hand, buried her face in Ada’s sex, and drew her tongue up through Ada’s folds.

Ada cried out with delight. She was still so sensitive, so wet. It felt so good. The siren took another long, slow lick, looking up at Ada.

Ada watched in amazement as she realized that the siren’s tongue was fully six inches long. This lead to longer strokes than a human in the same position, both in terms of the amount of time and the amount of Ada’s vulva that was stimulated at once.

Mercifully, the siren did not seem to be trying to make her come immediately, so Ada could actually enjoy it this time. She melted back into the rock.

To her left, a pair of sirens had not been able to await their turn with the newcomer. A male was over a female, face to face, fucking her frantically. She leaned back on the rock, her hair splayed around her face, which was overtaken by a blissy smile. His face was one of raw, agonizing need, and their tails flapped together with a delightful slapping sound.

Other sirens approached Ada slowly, according to some kind of pecking order. Or, fucking order, more accurately.

A purple male scooted up towards her face, offering his erection.

Ada beckoned him closer so that his dick was over her mouth. She started with light licks under the tip, which made him gasp. She then brought her tongue lower for a longer lick, base to tip. He trembled, falling to his hands on the other side of her. She reached her head up and pushed her mouth around him, running her tongue back and forth under his head.

Already, he dripped sea-salty pre-cum onto her tongue, and this spurred Ada to even more enthusiastic efforts.

Having something to suck on deepened Ada’s appreciation of the pink siren’s attention.

Encouraged by the bliss of the two first sirens, the others shuffled in closer.

Ada could still see the couple who had started at the edge of the circle. The orange female looked longing towards the group, wanting to join in, but the male was still fucking her frantically. She turned back towards him and grinned devilishly, then slapped his exposed ass. He yelped, though not in pain, and his eyes started to roll back as his breathing evened. She slapped his ass again, and this time he didn’t yelp, he growled.

Then he came, his entire body convulsing as he pumped the female full. Ada expected this to take the human amount of time, but he didn’t. He kept going, contractions running up his tail, over and over and over again, until foamy cum flowed out around him and pooled on the rock.

Ada’s heart quickened as the orange siren noticed her looking and winked.

The orange siren gently pushed the male off of her and he flopped onto the ground, moaning in the puddle of his own cum. A stream of the foamy liquid ran down the orange siren’s tail as she scooted over.

In the meantime, the other sirens had arranged around Ada. Ada had a dick in one hand and a female siren was fucking herself on the fingers of Ada’s other hand. There were three more males kneeling near or over her, all moaning as they stroked themselves. A smaller female wiggled in at Ada’s side and started sucking at her breast, while scaly tails and soft hands ran down her outer hips and legs.

Ada’s awareness flickered back and forth between the orange female approaching and the ocean of sensation all around her.

The orange female smiled with pointed teeth. Ada could barely hear her over all the moaning of the group. “You like… cum?” She pointed at the purple male kneeling over Ada.

Ada nodded, the movement pulling his dick across her tongue and he moaned again.

The orange female moved around, grabbing the either side of the male’s hips. She stuck out her long tongue, also six inches and prehensile, and teasingly licked the male’s rim.

He gasped and quivered, balls twitching, giving Ada a salty mouthful which she greedily swallowed.

The orange female gave another teasing lick, and the same happened again.

Sirens produced pre-cum with a similar volume to human climax, apparently. Gods, did Ada love that.

Another shudder of pleasure ran down Ada’s spine and she wondered how she had possibly avoided orgasming thus far. She realized that the pink siren was singing, the vibrations of her voice one of the many sensations through Ada’s body. And the song was not anywhere near crescendo. Ada felt every pulse, every flicker of heat, every tensing of her muscles, but came to the sickening and exhilarating awareness that she would not be coming until exactly when the pink siren wanted her to.

Well, better make the most of her endurance, then.

The orange female set to licking the purple male’s ass in earnest. His eyes were entirely dilated now, completely black and vacant as he fought to keep from collapsing into Ada. As the female teased him, his hips twitched, sending his dick further into Ada’s throat.

Normally, it would have been too far, but Ada was delighting to find that the siren’s pre-cum had a soothing, lubricating effect. She tested, lifting her head to take more of him into her mouth. He sensed her movement and pushed carefully into her, until her lips were at his base.

She pulled back out to catch her breath, but she’d been right. It just felt good.

The male’s body suddenly tensed and his breath caught, but it wasn’t anything Ada had done.

He moaned. “Yes,” he said, “Please, yes, yes! Ah!”

The orange siren teased his rim with the tip of her tongue, pressing lightly at first and then harder. Her mouth watered and like the males’ pre-cum, her drool had its own special effect. It was thick and slick and the tip of her tongue slid easily into his ass.

Slowly, the orange female worked her way in, and Ada could barely keep up with the pre-cum that was now flowing from the male. Every few moments he convulsed uncontrollably, pressing himself deeper into Ada’s throat.

She wanted it so badly, wanted it as deep as it would go. The pre-cum had soaked into her tongue, her lips, her throat. He slid easily in and out, every sensation overwhelmingly erotic.

The preparations were over. A rhythm started up above as the orange siren tongue-fucked his ass, and he face-fucked Ada in turn. Ada basked in this until his breathing started to waver. He was at the edge.

She wanted desperately to keep him all the way inside of her as he came, but she needed to breathe.

Ada slid off of him so that only his tip was left in her mouth.

This also pushed her into the pink siren’s continued attentions, which under normal circumstances would have tipped Ada over the edge. But instead, she just enjoyed the ripples of sub-orgasm as she teased the purple siren, circling her tongue under his tip. He whimpered in the most wonderful way, hips twitching towards her, but she denied him. She still needed a moment to catch her breath — plus, she wanted to taste him.

She pulled all the way back for a moment, letting pre-cum drizzle onto her tongue. His mind was completely gone. The orange siren must have found all his best spots, since he was dripping and edging just from her attention.

Ada kept teasing him this way until she was sure he was right on the edge. She took his tip in her mouth and rubbed her tongue under his head in quick circles, sucking gently.

Give it to meeeee…

The siren moaned, his balls spasmed, and the orange siren took this as her queue to tongue-fuck him harder. The convulsion started in the end of his tail and ran up to the base of his spine, and after a heartbeat of anticipation, the first spurt of foamy white cum arrived. It was salty and sweet and Ada swallowed it, the movement of her tongue drawing even more out of him.

She gulped it down until he outpaced her and she fell back panting. She pumped him with her hand to keep the foamy white cum flowing over her mouth and her chest and down onto the rocks. The siren’s ejaculate didn’t have the sticky quality of human semen. Rather, it was light and soft like sea foam. Being doused in it felt like taking a salty bubble bath.

His arms trembled and he would have collapsed onto Ada if the orange siren hadn’t pulled him to the side. The orange siren then winked at Ada before descending upon the spent male to lick him clean.

Ada had only a moment to wonder what she’d do about the mess of cum that was all over her before other sirens quickly filled in with their long, agile tongues. They licked her neck, her chest, teasing her nipples. Her ear, her face — she was making out with a green siren now, seaweed hair falling around her. This siren seemed interested in licking out as much of the cum from Ada’s mouth as she could, and with Ada’s mouth and throat still sensitized, it felt amazing. Greedy, the green siren licked deeper and deeper until she was face-fucking Ada with her tongue. Ada couldn’t breathe but she didn’t care, until finally her chest spasmed and the green siren withdrew.

Ada slipped her fingers between the green siren’s labia. Other than the scales that started just below it, her sex was in all ways very human. The siren leaned over Ada, her breasts hanging down. Her areola and nipples were also green, with a sprinkling of shimmering scales like freckles across her collar bone.

Ada leaned up and licked at the siren’s nipple, and the siren gasped and lowered herself so that Ada could suck on her as she fucked herself on Ada’s fingers.

Now that Ada was putting her full attention — well, as full as she could, with all that was happening concurrently — towards the green siren, she tensed her fingers in time with the siren’s wiggling to put pressure on the siren’s inner spot, that wonderful hidden part of the clitoris that sang under such ministrations.

The green siren didn’t last much longer. She clenched around Ada’s fingers, squeezing erratically as Ada pressed rhythmically against her spot.

The green siren had been panting and now gasped in a full breath. She screamed in one long heave, then moaned in waves as she pressed herself onto Ada’s fingers a few more times before collapsing into the puddle of her own making.

The males that had originally set themselves up around Ada had not stopped touching themselves, and the sight of the green siren’s bliss sent a yellow one over the edge.

While Ada had felt more than seen the purple one’s orgasm, she had fully view of this yellow one as he spurted ropes of foamy white cum all over her stomach, chest, and the back of the pink one’s head. He just kept going, the convulsions up his tail revealing that his human-like balls were more of an adornment than the true source of his cum.

This was how one of Ada’s books had described spawning fish. A female would lay clumps of eggs and it was the male’s job to douse them with semen.

The male sirens certainly accomplished dousing. Just when the yellow one was running out, the other two males over her started growling. They really got off on watching each other come. These two climaxed at the same time, an even more impressive display of volume, thick ropes floating a moment in the air before splashing down on Ada.

Before they were done, other sirens wiggled in to lap up the mess, licking Ada with their tongues but also catching shots of cum on themselves, which other sirens licked off in turn.

That seemed to really set off a chain reaction in the crowd, sirens wriggling and orgasming and licking all around her, but each too dazed and desperate to pay attention to Ada. All they could do was rub themselves on the nearest surface and moan.

Gods, was that was she looked like half the time?

It was so hot.

Not all the sirens were so distracted — the pink siren still hummed between Ada’s legs, and looked up at Ada with those shining eyes again.

Ada was now barely in her own body, floating on dozens of denied orgasms and almost in the same state of desperate overwhelm as she had been on the ship.

A shocking sensation suddenly brought her back into her body.

The pink siren had only been licking Ada’s folds all this time, and now she angled her tongue so that the tip pressed up inside of Ada. Ada’s muscles gripped compulsively, searching for more sensation.

Another denied orgasm.

The pink siren pressed her tongue further in.

Ada screamed with pleasure.

It was as if she had forgotten how good it felt to have something inside of her, and the siren was now teaching her anew.

Ada panted, mouth watering. “F-fuck me, please!”

The pink siren teased her with the thin tip of her tongue.

Ada whined. “Please!”

The pink siren moved her hands from the outside of Ada’s thighs to rub the outer sides of her labia. That plus her tongue was a moment of bliss, but as the siren withdrew, the hands were torturously teasing.

“If I fuck you… you come, yes?” the siren said.

It took Ada a moment to realize she was being asked a question, but then she nodded.

“You come, you become a dragon… yes?”

Ada nodded.

“But only for a moment?”

“Uh… no for a uh… for however long.”

“Whatever long?”

“Until I— until I c-come again.”

“Oh. This one came in the sky?!”

“Y-yes.”

“We’ll have to try this on other dragons. Hmmmm…” As the pink siren pondered, she ran her hands in circles on Ada’s outer labia, pressing little rivulets of wetness out.

Ada groaned. “I c-can’t, I can’t take it. Please.”

“Not yet. Together.”

The pink siren scooted herself up and around, lying on her back and pulling Ada so that she kneeled on hands and knees over the siren, Ada’s head over the siren’s sex, Ada’s ass over the siren’s head.

Ada’s sex dripped and the pink siren eagerly licked the wetness from her cheeks. Ada leaned down, gently licking the siren’s vulva.

The siren wiggled under her, tail slapping against the wet rock. Ada felt a bit of the siren’s own pleasure over her own aching. The siren’s pleasure was in the song, shared with Ada through the melody.

Then, the siren reached up to Ada with her tongue.

“Mmmmmph!!” Ada moaned into the siren, which heightened the siren’s pleasure, which heightened the song, which intensified Ada’s moaning, in an overwhelming loop of pleasure.

Ada’s hips collapsed onto the siren’s face, her knees sliding out from under her on the now slick rock. She tried to pick herself up again, but the siren wrapped her arms around Ada’s thighs to hold her down.

Ada’s sex-addled brain tried to make sense of this. Didn’t the siren need to breathe?

She didn’t, Ada realized. Like a seal or a whale, a siren would be able to hold their breath for quite a while.

Just the thought of the implication of that nearly sent Ada over the edge. But, the song didn’t let her. She was denied again.

And the siren’s tongue started pressing between her labia, up inside of her.

Ada licked frantically at the siren, moaning into her.

Ada’s hips twitched uncontrollably, rubbing against the siren’s chin. At the same time, the siren slid her tongue deeper in.

Ada gasped. The tongue was dick-thick in the middle but broader at the base, and the siren pushed through Ada’s clenched muscles, giving her the most delicious stretch. The siren wiggled her tongue around, the textured surface pressing against the outer nub of Ada’s clit, then all the way around to the inner spot of pleasure as well.

Is this something like what Pasco felt when she wrapped her dragon tongue all the way around his dick and up his ass? If so, then holy fuck she was a genius.

That was the last conscious thought Ada had any capacity for as the siren started to tongue-fuck her in earnest, combining all the best parts of going-down and getting-fucked.

Ada did her best to return the favor but mostly just moaned, drooled, and licked frantically. Luckily, the siren seemed to be getting off on making Ada an absolute fucking mess.

The song finally started to rise. The energy of all the denied orgasms quivered in Ada’s body. Her mind’s little boat was shattered into pieces and her body floated catatonic on the roiling waves.

She needed to make the siren come. She needed to make the siren come or she was going to die. The siren seemed to sense that energy, which pushed the siren herself nearly to the edge, but it wasn’t quite enough. The siren seemed content to let Ada quiver into insanity, but Ada had to do something.

She forced herself back into her body to find her hand, and clumsily pulled it towards the siren’s vulva. She slid in two fingers on the other side of her frantic licking, pressing at the siren’s spot.

The music swelled. Pleasure throbbed in Ada’s core, just like it had with each denied orgasm, but finally, finally, it tipped over the edge into rhythmic contractions of sheer bliss.

Yes, yesyesyesyes yes!

The song became a shrill, piercing note as the siren screamed. Ada came hard, like a desperate inhale for breath after finally reaching the surface of the ocean. Sirens scrambled out of the way, some diving for the ocean to avoid the rapid expansion of her body on the rock.

She stood, for a moment, on the slippery rock. Then, she realized that her sex was still clenching with orgasmic spasms, even as a dragon.

“Oh no, oh— ah, aaaaaaah!”

Human, she tried to pull herself up off the rock, but her core clenched again. It wasn’t over. She came again.

She stood as a dragon, the sirens looking on with awe and delight. Mercifully, she seemed to be done for the moment, but fluid flowed freely from her sex.

“You know—”

A curious siren ran a hand down the scales of her outer labia, grabbing a fistful of dragon slick to taste.

“Fuuuuck!” Ada came again.

Human, she was spread eagle on the rock. The pink siren approached with a devilish look in her eye. “No,” Ada gasped, “Please no—”

The siren came up and put her palm flat over Ada’s sex, rubbing her in broad circles.

Ada twitched but she had no strength left to fight it. “Please not agaaaaaa—ah!”

The next hours — minutes? seconds? — all blurred together in Ada’s mind. She came over, and over, and over again. Every denied orgasm from the pink siren’s initial intentions seemed backed up in some sort of queue. Even the slightest sensation, the least touch, was enough to send her over the edge.

Sirens clung around the edge of the rock, bobbing down as Ada started flailing and then peeking over to see if it was their turn to give the one touch, one kiss, one moan that would send Ada through her orgasmic transformation once more.

There wasn’t enough room for all the sirens on the rock, so the rest congregated in a small cove in the water below. A halo of foamy whiteness slowly spread through the cove and spilled out into the ocean as they filled the water with foamy cum and churned it into an even thicker lather with their wriggling and convulsing. The dragon-woman’s desperate cries of tortured pleasure were a constant source of arousal for the greedy sirens.

Ada’s sensitivity slowly started to diminish — but only to the point that a siren actually got to fuck her to make her cum, or she had a few moments to stand on her four feet as a dragon before the sirens enveloped her. In one of those moments, she thought about making a run for it, taking to wing, but she was sure that she wouldn’t make it far before she fell from the sky yet again.

Ada, for the first time in her life, finally needed to be rescued.

At that moment, the ship finally came into sight around the edge of the cove. Yes! She was so excited at the thought of rescue, of seeing Pasco again, that it sent her quivering into another orgasm. Fuck.

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Chapter 16: First Time