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 23: Sorcery (Part II)

Linza turned towards the empty third chair, partly as a place to set the illusions and partly so that she could focus. First came a low and building moan, filling the air all around them. Then a gasp and heaving breath.

This was a sample platter more than a curated experience, and Linza hoped it was what Nephis had in mind.

Next, Linza conjured an image of a woman draped across the chair, her hair a tangle, her hand in her sex, her face a picture of bliss. Then the image faded, replaced with the slapping of flesh and accompanying grunts. Then a man in the chair, head lolled back, arc of cum hovering midair.

Linza kept that pose and shifted through a few different characters—a werewolf, a succubus woman with a massive cock, a slender and feminine man with fox ears and tail.

Linza paused and looked over at Nephis—the tiefling’s eyes were transfixed on the fox. Nephis leaned forward, chin in her hands, one of her fingers pulling at her lip. Though the rest of her was still, her tail lashed violently like a cat with prey in its sights.

Without looking at Linza, she said, “Do sound and an image at once.”

Linza couldn’t, but before she answered as such, she hesitated. She hadn’t ever been able to do an image and sound at once. It was, however, a common ability for students who majored in the school of illusion. And over the past few weeks, Linza had practiced that cantrip more than she ever had while she was in school.

And Nephis hadn’t asked her if she could do it—she had told her to do it. And who would have better instincts for such a thing than a sorcerer?

Linza considered which illusion she might be familiar enough with that the image and sound would come viscerally together. She knew so immediately that she was tracing the movements even before the image was fully in her mind.

The octopus mermaid sprawled across the chair, her tentacles wrapping around the legs and the back and flailing in the air, cum spurting from the tips, her face twisted with bliss, and a guttural orgasmic scream echoing from the center of the image.

Linza nearly lost focus on the illusion. She’d done it!

“Nnnngh now you’ve gone and done it,” Nephis moaned, but this time her scolding tone enticed instead of admonished Linza—mostly because Nephis’s face was flushed red under the purple of her skin, and her eyes were glazed with arousal.

Nephis scooped her violet breasts out and over the edge of her bodice. As she took one of her breasts in her hands and massaged her dark bluish nipple, she pulled her tiered skirt up to reveal that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

With a pointed canine pressing into her full lip, she brought the tip of her muscular tail around and plunged it easily into her sex, gasping with relief. She thrust the tip in and out, working her fingertips over her nipple and vulva.

Nephis tilted her head over to Linza and smiled. “H-how’s this one for the memory banks? Nnnnngh…” She stuffed her tail greedily further inside, already visibly dripping around it. “I k-know I’m supposed to tell you first but… we’re empaths, aren’t we?”

Linza nodded vigorously. Staff were supposed to always ask ahead of time before initiating anything, both with guests and with each other. But sometimes, it was nice to indulge in the feeling of spontaneity—especially since Linza knew that she could simply take her leave and there would be no judgement, no consequence.

At JSMI, part of the strict restriction on romance with professors was that certain students might ‘gain favor’ or that professors might manipulate them with that idea. Ironically, that sex and sexual favors flowed so freely at the estate totally took away their ‘bargaining power’ in such a situation. With everything given and nothing taken, there was no power imbalance to exploit.

And Linza wanted absolutely nothing more than to watch Nephis pleasure herself.

“N-not all Tieflings are thirsty as fuck but— nnnngh,” Nephis shoved her tail in even further. “Fuck that’s good… —But I sure am.”

Linza was, as Nephis had just said, an empath and she took a guess at something that Nephis might like. An image glimmered to life in the third chair again, but this time it was a mirror of Nephis herself, fucking herself with her tail.

“I-is that what I look like?” Nephis said.

Linza traced the gesture again, and the image spoke with Nephis’s exact intonation, “Why would I lie to you?”

“Fuck!” There was an actual splash of moisture around Nephis’s tail. Linza’s rapt attention flowed into the illusion and it shifted to include this detail.

Nephis’s chest heaved, her breasts bouncing. The illusion blurred and then depicted those same breasts mid-air.

Nephis’s eyes widened as she glanced to Linza and trembled with a wave of intense pleasure. “Fuck, you’re good…”

Linza couldn’t help but smile, though she turned her attention back to the illusion, and so did Nephis.

It was like one of Linza’s art classes where they had been required to keep their eyes on the model at all times, and almost never glance at the paper. Linza focused entirely on watching Nephis, letting everything that she noticed flow into the illusion, her fingers constantly flowing through the air to refresh the image.

Nephis continued fucking herself with her tail. With the fingers of one hand she rubbed her clit vigorously, and with the other she pinched and pulled at her nipples—unwinding into deeper and deeper abandon as she watched the same unfold in the illusion.

Nephis reached a fever pitch, her moans and their illusory echoes filling the room, her whole body trembling, her mouth gaping with overwhelming arousal, her wetness dripping up her tail.

Then her breathing quickened and her eyes widened.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Nephis’s eyes rolled up, her back arched, her neck tilted back revealing the purple curves of her neck, and she came. Fluid gushed around her fingers and into the air, splashing over her tail. Then more. Then more. Nephis didn’t stop fucking herself and she didn’t stop cumming and she didn’t stop squirting.

Linza finally succumbed to the intoxicating heat of her own arousal and the illusion faltered as Linza’s awareness was filled with only her own aching need.

Finally, Nephis slowed, her moans deepening and softening and her breathing coming back down to normal. But she didn’t stop fucking herself. She turned her evening grey eyes to Linza and said, “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”

Linza nodded meekly.

Nephis withdrew her tail from herself with a sigh and waggled the tip at Linza. “Wanna try?”

“Yes!” Linza scrambled to her feet, though she nearly fell over. She kicked her underwear off from under her skirt, but didn’t bother to remove any of her other clothes. As she neared Nephis, the tiefling took Linza’s hands in hers and guided Linza’s hands to her breasts and pulled Linza down to straddle her in the chair.

With both of Nephis’s breasts covered by Linza, she curled the hand that had been on her vulva deeper around to her internal spot, and with the other she rubbed circles over Linza’s clit.

Linza nearly collapsed onto her. That is, until the tip of Nephis’s tail teased Linza’s entrance—then, Linza totally buckled.

Nephis didn’t take any issue with Linza’s face in her cleavage. The smell of incense and lavender surrounded Linza.

The first few minutes of sensation—Nephis’s fingertips at her vulva, the slender tip of Nephis’s tail twisting gently at her entrance—were totally overwhelming.

Slowly, the overwhelm gave way to urgency. Linza rearranged herself and grabbed Nephis’s breasts properly again, running her thumbs in circles over the tiefling’s nipples.

Nephis gasped, head tilting back, and she pulled deeper into herself with her own fingers.

Her tail pressed a little further in, and Linza moaned. Then further, with a delicious stretch. And when the length had reached the back of her sex and yet was still too slender, the tip curled back around to press against her spot as more of the girth slid in. The squirming undulations of the tail inside of her were unlike anything that Linza had ever experienced.

Linza moaned. “Fuck! Holy shit that feels good.”

“I know,” Nephis purred.

Nephis’s breasts bounced before her, the forbidden fruit now here for Linza’s delight, and she could not help but lean down again and close her lips around Nephis’s nipple.

“Gods, yes!” Nephis yelled, and the movements of her tail and hand on Linza’s vulva reached fever pitch as Nephis started to cum again.

It required no illusion for the sound of Nephis’s gasps and moans to fill Linza’s entire awareness. Nephis’s chest heaved, her hand slapped against the wetness of her climax, her tail writhed within Linza, and her body shook with wave after wave of release.

Pre-orgasmic waves of pleasure started coursing down Linza’s legs and up her core, just as Nephis’s climax was winding down.

Nephis sensed it and pressed her tail in even further, the tip pushing against Linza’s spot, the shaft providing stretch.

Linza let Nephis’s nipple fall from her lips and gasped once, twice, and then the climax overtook her. She squeezed down around Nephis’s tail and her fingertips grasped Nephis’s breasts as she lost conscious control of her body.

After the first several waves, Nephis stilled and just pressed her hand against Linza’s mound and the tip of her tail against Linza’s spot. That let the sensation of the pulsing contractions come to the forefront of Linza’s awareness.

Linza was a bell, peal after peal of pure ecstasy ringing through her, intensity slowly fading, but pleasure lingering.

Linza sunk down against Nephis, her cheek against Nephis’s breasts, her legs tucked by Nephis’s hips, the tiefling’s hand and tail still in place. They stayed like that for a long few minutes.

Finally, Nephis took a deep breath and smoothed Linza’s hair. “Lovely chat, dear.”

Linza stirred and stretched. She’d forgotten that Nephis’s tail was still inside of her until it withdrew and unwound, and the sensation of it undulating inside of her almost sent her spinning back into climax again.

Linza went and fetched her underwear from the floor. They’d been hot and wet when she’d kicked them off, and now they were cold and wet, so she stuffed them in her pocket rather than put them back on. Linza had started to bring quite a few extra pairs to work for this exact reason. Linza rearranged herself as best she could, though Nephis made no such efforts.

The tiefling remained sprawled across the chair with her skirts hiked up, her breasts resting over her corset and her tail draped over the side of the chair and hanging limp towards the floor.

“I’ll stop by the madame’s office for the paperwork?” Linza asked. Something told her that Nephis wouldn’t be facilitating the paperwork process, between Nephis’s earlier attitude and the lack of desk in the office.

“Clever girl,” Nephis crooned.

A shiver curled down Linza’s spine.

There also wasn’t a clock in Nephis’s office, probably because the woman preferred to work on instinct than clockwork. “Best not be late,” Linza said, curtseying with mock formality. She stepped towards the door.

“Now, Linza,” Nephis said, “With your new arrangement I’ll need to do regular… quality inspections, to ensure that nobody will mistake them for cut-rate work.” A half-smile curled across her face, equal parts mischievous and lecherous.

Linza matched it with her own. “But of course. And… does that imply that the rate for these other sessions remains the same as my current rate?”

Nephis grinned. “But of course.”

Linza’s excitement nearly jumped out of her chest, but she needed to focus and especially needed to not be late to her next session, lest she lose any of the patrons she had so far cultivated. She’d assumed, in error, that these new sessions wouldn’t fetch the same rate.

Linza dipped her head in farewell, and this time Nephis let her leave.

With a glance at the nearest tower clock, Linza confirmed that she only had a minute to spare before her next session, and she scurried around the corner and into her half of the little room.

Linza was lucky that her next guest particularly liked succubi. After the session, the guest praised her, saying that this latest work had been particularly inspired. It had been, of course—Linza had modeled the succubus directly after Nephis.

Part 1: The Premise, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 5: Sleepover

Wyn’s bedroom was nearly as large as Linza’s whole apartment. In the center was a beautifully carved four-poster bed with a velvet canopy. The walls were hung with pictorial tapestries that depicted farmers, kings and queens, a baker’s shop and — Wyn’s addition — a woman in the nude.

Linza and Wyn sat next to each other on Wyn’s bed. They were both wearing nightgowns, Linza’s borrowed from Wyn’s closet. Linza had stopped by for dinner and soon realized that there would be no way that Wyn was going to let her leave that night.

The papers were all strewn out in front of them, Wyn poring over them. Wyn herself had studied evocation. She could make her hands burn with fire, could summon sparkling lights, could create ice out of thin air. She could also be drafted during a time of war, which was the major downside of becoming an evoker. When pressed on how she felt about military service, Wyn would just giggle and say ‘I’d like to see them try and catch me’. To Linza, it was a refreshing departure from her mother’s dutiful worship of the royal navy.

Evocation was also an attractive School to casters who were more emotional than studious, more physical than academic, and so it had been a good fit for Wyn.

Linza had hardly ever seen her read a book (unless it was romance, of course) and she had certainly never seen Wyn study anything so intently as she studied the terms of employment strewn across the bed.

Wyn set down the final page, having finished her third reading. “So little of this is about sex!”

“She said something like, ‘sex is one constellation among galaxies’.”

Wyn’s eyes snapped up. “Oh. My. Gods.” She pulled her hair and threw herself back on the bed, sending a few of the sheets fluttering. “She sounds so freaking dreamy!”

“She was! She was like… like a professor almost.”

“A hot professor,” Wyn said.

“Yep.”

“Ugh. I heard she doesn’t see clients—”

“—esteemed guests—”

“—yeah yeah, whatever. I heard she doesn’t see guests anymore because she’s so busy training the staff. You have to try and get with her! I need details!”

“I’m going to be at the very bottom of the pecking order, there’s no way. Not for ages.”

“Ugh, but wouldn’t that make it, like… a little bit forbidden? Like hot professors at JSMI. Like, you’re not supposed to, but… doesn’t that make it more exciting?”

Linza snorted. “For you, maybe. It just makes me feel bad!”

“Really? Just imagine it… all this line of other staff before you, but she’s just as captivated by you as you are by her… you’re not supposed to, you know you’ll have to wait ages, but you flirt anyway… and flirt, and flirt… You try to woo her, but she declines… just as she’s about to crack, you dutifully agree to follow the rules, and then she’s trying to woo you…”

Wyn’s eyes lost focus, her nipples perked under the thin silk of her nightgown, and she ran her legs against each other luxuriantly. Her hair had come to rest across the pillow. She heaved a sigh, her breasts bouncing under the silk. “Do you want to fool around or should I go take a bath?”

Linza bounced up and straddled Wyn, only the thin silk of Wyn’s nightgown between her vulva and Wyn’s skin. “I would really like to fool around.”

“Fuck yes.” Wyn reached up and pulled Linza down on top of her, their lips meeting.

Linza particularly liked the comparison of sex as a constellation amongst galaxies. Hers and Wyn’s constellations shared this star. They had learned after some trial and error that they made better friends than lovers.

Neither was made jealous by the other’s flings. Each supported the other in whatever they might pursue. Mostly they met for tea and chatted.

And every so often when the stars aligned and they both happened to be feeling it on the same night, they fooled around.

Linza rocked her hips against Wyn. The silk was smooth against her labia, the other woman’s mound providing pressure. Wyn’s lips were soft and welcoming, her touch was fervent and greedy.

Their kiss ended as Linza rested her cheek on Wyn’s breasts, grinding even more fervently. Her moisture was soaking through the thin silk between them.

“F-fuck, you’re wet.” Wyn arched her back into Linza. “You poor thing, did the madame leave you all hot and bothered?”

“Yes!”

“Hmmm let me see!” Wyn pushed up onto her elbows.

Linza reluctantly tipped herself off of the other woman, falling back to the bed next to her. The skirt of her nightgown remained at her waist, leaving nothing between her vulva and Wyn’s appraising eyes.

Wyn ran her fingers up the insides of Linza’s thighs and Linza shivered.

“My my, you are quite the mess,” Wyn chided.

She descended on Linza with her tongue and Linza screamed with delight.

It was overwhelming. It felt so good. Though, Linza wavered a bit in one of the uncertainties that meant that she and Wyn weren’t the best of lovers. Linza was the sort of woman that needed to sink deep into the fantasies of her own mind in order to climax.

Wyn preferred a more urgent and present sort of love-making and she grew quickly bored without variety or banter.

If Linza obliged with banter, she could extend the length of Wyn’s attentions, but she would delay her own climax. Some times, that was alright with her.

Other times, like this time, when she was fit to burst after days of building anticipation, she craved that release.

But then, she realized something. It brought her out of her arousal just a bit, but it was worth it. She propped herself up on her elbows. “Wyn?”

“Mhm?” Wyn looked up at her, face still buried in her vulva.

“I-I was thinking—”

Wyn started to roll her eyes. Wyn was always teasing Linza for thinking too much, especially during sex.

“—I could summon a phantasm?”

Wyn’s eyes widened and she perked up. “Can you summon an octopus mermaid to fuck me right now?”

Linza was surprised and impressed by how instantly Wyn knew what she wanted. It was one of Linza’s favorite things about the brazen woman.

Linza nodded. “Can do!”

Wyn’s breathing quickened. “Both holes, wrap my legs and hips, hard. Fuck me into your pussy.”

At Wyn’s lustful command, Linza almost forgot how to think, let alone recite the spell. Maybe Wyn had more of an imagination than Linza had given her credit for. She was all too happy to oblige.

Linza began the spell. It required all three components.

Verbal, a spoken incantation.

Somatic, a measured and precise movement of the hand.

Material, the focus crystal that hung on a golden chain around her neck.

The crystal vibrated as she spoke the arcane verse and sculpted the nascent magic into shape.

As was ever true of artists and illusionists, they became deeply acquainted with their inner and unconscious imaginations in a way that few others ever did.

The resulting octopus mermaid looked much like Wyn herself, golden skin melting into ochre tentacles. Brown hair spilled in waves over her shoulders. Her face was aglow with mischief, her smirk decorated with cute little fangs.

To Linza, the image was translucent. To Wyn, who welcomed it, it would be totally opaque. To anyone else, it would be invisible.

Wyn glanced over her shoulder and her face sparked with delight for one brief moment.

Then her expression melted into ecstasy as the tentacles wrapped firmly around her and into her.

Wyn moaned in a way that Linza had not heard before, and in a way that set Linza’s own arousal blazing again.

“I c-can feel it!” Wyn gasped. “Gods, I can feel it! It’s inside of me, fuck, Linza, it feels so good!”

Linza did not give the spell its next instruction explicitly. Rather, it responded to the fantasy that it had been summoned from, the unconscious thoughts from which it was drawing its power and form. Her’s and Wyn’s imaginations, together.

A limit of the illusion was that it worked directly on the mind and could not have a direct physical effect. But, expectations were powerful. As the illusory sensation thrust into Wyn, she moved instinctively with it, pressing into Linza’s vulva with the same rhythm.

The pleasure and heat built nearly immediately.

Linza’s breath heaved, her own breasts bouncing on her chest.

The mermaid’s face was glowing with abject pleasure, as if each of her tentacles was as erotically sensitive as a cock. She rubbed her own nipples with the ridged underside of one of her tentacles.

As soon as the mermaid’s breath started deepening into deep gasps, Linza knew what was next.

“Fuuuck,” the mermaid said, in a voice that was smoky and sweet and a bit like the madame’s. “I’m c… I’m c… I’m cumming!”

Thick white foam that smelled like the ocean sprayed from the tips of each of her tentacles, including those that continued to vigorously fuck Wyn.

Wyn’s scream of climax joined the mermaid’s, and Linza’s was close behind.

It was the kind of orgasm that hit her like a rogue wave. Her conscious mind was swept underwater by, utterly overwhelmed for a moment before bobbing back to the surface. She rode out the waves of pleasure, recording every detail into memory.

Wyn’s screams of pleasure vibrated through her sex. The mermaid kept fucking her with a squelching sound and the smell of the ocean. The mermaid’s fluids were everywhere, soaking both of them.

Gradually, the waves turned to ripples and then the ripples to stillness.

Wyn now floated on the afterglow, cheek on Linza’s thigh and arms around her hips as if Linza were a life preserver.

The mermaid gently disentangled herself from Wyn, who gasped at the renewed pleasure of the receding tentacles. The mermaid just giggled and then turned and dived off the side of the bed.

The sound of a splash was the last of the illusion as Linza released the spell.

Linza melted completely and became one with the silky cushions and smooth sheets of Wyn’s bed. Everything felt so soft, so cozy, so nice.

Wyn heaved her head up from Linza’s thigh. “Fuck, Linz… that was… holy shit. Your imagination is hot. Charge me next time.”

Shorts

The Art of a Bad Day

[META] June 2021 Contest: Representation from DirtyWritingPrompts

It’s natural to take out your frustrations on your partner.

Jasmine and May had made an art of it.

And it was exactly what Jasmine needed as she trudged the last few steps up to their apartment, back aching from carrying her work bag the long walk home from the train station, a walk that should have been a ride except her phone had died and she hadn’t been able to call the ride share.

Her phone had died because the thirty minute client call at the end of her day had become a two hour call, of talking in circles with the client because they insisted they’d already asked for a feature despite signing off on a scope of work that didn’t include it.

As she turned the key in the lock, she was feeling more riled up than exhausted. She’d learned to not shy away from that fire, lately.

May was there to greet her. She wore nothing but an apron and a thong, and her plump thighs and arms jiggled as she waved Jasmine in. She was of Chinese descent, black hair and monolid eyes, though Jasmine actually spoke more Mandarin than May did, after a multi-year project with a Chinese client.

Jasmine was a few inches taller, Black, with her natural hair cut to a long ‘fro. May always said it looked angelic. Right now, Jasmine felt devilish.

Jasmine slumped her bag against the wall as May stepped over to give her a hug.

“How was work?” May asked.

“I need to hit something,” Jasmine said with a wry smile.

May sidled in a little closer, kissed Jasmine’s cheek, then looked up at her. “I volunteer as tribute.”

Jasmine reached around and smacked May’s ass.

May gasped and whimpered, clinging closer to Jasmine’s chest.

Jasmine’s hand stung, but it was worth it. She dug her fingers into May’s shoulder and turned her around, steering her over to the bedroom.

May happily complied.

It was not so long ago that Jasmine had felt guilty to even use a sharp tone of voice with May. Even if May asked for her to, what if it was still too mean? What if it made Jasmine an ‘angry black woman’ after all?

But then, Jasmine had learned how to ask different questions. What if she was afraid of how much she loved it? What if it made her powerful? What if it made her happy, the first and foremost thing that black women were not allowed to be?

So, Jasmine had embraced it, much to May’s delight.

By this point, they had worked out the kinks.

So very many kinks. (Bondage, name-calling, impact play and more…)

Jasmine shoved May onto the bed, though May was already swooning. Jasmine flicked open the nightstand drawer and grabbed the paddle that was ready and waiting, cracking it against May’s ass without warning.

May gasped and jumped and then moaned into the pillow. “What did I dooo?”

It was part of the game. Jasmine smacked her other ass cheek with the paddle, and didn’t answer. She loved the way May’s plump ass and thighs jiggled with each strike.

May asked again, “What did I do?”

Jasmine answered with as hard a strike as she could manage.

May gasped, the cheeks of her face tinging pink, her eyes fluttering with pleasure, her open mouth falling against the bedspread.

An expansive, powerful feeling welled in Jasmine. She had needed to keep herself reined in, polite with the clients and now she did not.

Instead of tamping down this energy, she had held it, kept it ready and waiting for this moment.

Jasmine swung another hard strike at May’s other ass cheek, the sharp snap echoing in the small room.

She learned that while she did not necessarily enjoy inflicting pain in and of itself, she loved to inflict sensation. To make herself felt. To flood May’s body with the hot, heavy feelings that May craved, to send her spiraling down, down into sub space, to turn the other woman into a quivering pet and then to take very, very good care of her.

“W-what did I do…”

“Hush. I’m using you.”

May yelped and quivered. She loved it when Jasmine said things like that. Jasmine followed with another series of spanks, savoring May’s squeaks and gasps.

When both the cheeks of May’s face and ass were rosy red, Jasmine set the paddle aside and traced her fingertips down May’s spine.

May gasped and shivered.

Jasmine cupped her hands over the warm skin of May’s ass and kneeled behind her, trailing soft, tender kisses along her cheeks.

May sighed and melted into the bed, totally surrendered to Jasmine’s touch.

Jasmine curled her fingers to claws and raked them lightly down May’s thighs. May shivered and moaned.

Jasmine moved smoothly from impulse to action in this headspace, polite inhibitions set aside, and May loved it that way.

Jasmine grabbed May’s ass, pulling her cheeks apart to get a better look at May’s vulva. The inner labia were already puffy. Jasmine gently dipped her finger between them, pulling out a deeper moan from May along with the wetness on her fingertips.

Jasmine grinned and swirled her now-slick fingertips over May’s clit.

May moaned open-mouthed into the bedspread.

Jasmine tsked. “C’mon, you know better than to drool on the bed. Don’t make a mess.”

May squeaked and struggled to collect herself. “I c-can’t help it!”

Jasmine reached her hand around the front of May’s hip on one side and pulled. “C’mon, roll over.”

May obliged. Her eyes were glazed with pleasure, her expression dazed.

Jasmine stepped over to the closet and grabbed the waterproof blanket, throwing it over the other side of the bed. She patted the middle and May eagerly shuffled over.

Before May even had a chance to settle, Jasmine was on top of her, her fingers inside of May and curled up to her g-spot.

May cried out with pleasure.

Jasmine smirked. “Oh, do you like that?”

“Y-yes… fuck, you feel so good…”

“Oh yeah? How about now?” Jasmine started fucking May with her hand and May’s face became the most perfect picture of desperate bliss. She was incapable of answering Jasmine’s question, just as Jasmine had hoped.

May was clever as they come, except for moments like these when she sunk into sub space, and that made it all the more fun to remind her, “You look like such a useless whore.”

All May could do to respond was gush pre-orgasmic bliss over Jasmine’s hand.

“F-fuck, I’m close…”

Jasmine worked May right to the edge, then abruptly stopped stroking.

May gasped and shook, looking up at Jasmine with those big brown eyes, full of desperation and indignation.

“Please!”

“No. Not yet.”

“W-why?”

“Dunno, just don’t feel like it yet.” And that was the truth. Jasmine loved this part. She loved saying ‘no’ for no reason at all, just because she felt like it, just because she wanted to tease and torment May.

At work, clients expected ‘yes’. Any ‘no’ had to be exactly justified, carefully delivered.

Not here. The more arbitrary, the more whimsical the ‘no’, the more May loved it.

Because May loved to unravel like this, to be totally vulnerable and utterly safe, to feel all of these delightfully tortuous sensations and know that she would be so much more than alright.

Before May could protest any more, Jasmine resumed finger-fucking her and May’s protests melted to moans.

May squirted again, quickly approaching orgasm.

Jasmine edged her a second time. May sputtered, lifting her hips to grind up into Jasmine’s hand.

Lucky for May, Jasmine was getting similarly eager for the climax.

That warm, expansive feeling surged out of Jasmine’s chest and sent her whole body tingling, alive with the consciousness of what she was doing to May, of how it made herself feel, every nerve alight with electric power.

This, to Jasmine, was what it meant to be a sadist.

As May approached the edge again, her moans became louder.

Jasmine smirked. “Remember, we got that noise complaint. Be sure to cum quietly…”

May’s eyes widened, briefly brought back from the edge. She looked desperately worried. “Y-you know I can’t when you make me squirt!”

“I believe in you.”

“N-no, Jazz, I c-can’t, you have to—”

Jasmine cut her off by fucking her harder. “Nah, I know you can be quiet if you want. If you scream, it must be because you want the whole block to know what a slut you are.”

The words pushed May even harder towards the edge, deepening her predicament.

May now gripped the blanket, trying desperately to keep control of herself. Her eyes rolled back and re-focused, she gushed over Jasmine’s hand again.

“Ohhhh fuck…”

Jasmine grinned, her own heart beating fast and her own arousal surging. Inflicting this most intense of pleasures on May was her favorite of all.

Every muscle in May’s body was tense, like a wound spring, her inner walls squeezing around Jasmine’s fingers, her hips bucking.

May’s breath turned to rapid panting, her chest heaving. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

She screamed — indeed loud enough for the neighbors to hear — and squirted hard. Jasmine fucked her through the surge of the climax and then the long tail of after-shocks.

Tension drained out of May with each pulse, until she was left soft and exhausted on the bed.

Jasmine grinned and licked off her fingers, taking a moment to strip off her clothes and toss them into a pile by the nightstand before returning to the bed and curling around May, her cheek on May’s forehead.

May moaned softly and tried to stir, too tired and dizzy from sub space to form actual words, but Jasmine knew it was something about reciprocating.

Jasmine was aroused, certainly, but she was also sated. She’d gotten the release that she was after.

The powerful heat had gone soft and warm, and all she wanted to do was caress the beautiful, brave little woman.

“Shhh. You can make it up to me tomorrow.”

May nuzzled into Jasmine’s cheek and Jasmine kissed her forehead and together they drifted off into bliss.

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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.

Part 2: On the Road, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 12: Six Hands High

Ada spent most of the next day talking to her new friends as they rode towards the shore. Missa and Sendia now openly fondled each other atop their horse. The group bounced question after question to each other, about lovers and life, about hobbies and habits, about preferences and predilections.

Ada found that she could talk openly about herself in every way. Not just sex, but worries. Hangups. Aspirations. These were all met with open warmth, for the first time.

Screw fairy godmothers coming to the rescue, Ada thought. I’ll take a mystical topless sex-positive sea kingdom, thank you very much.

That night, Ada sourced wood for the fire, roaming around the wood and gathering kindling, then helping to haul and chop up a dead log. It felt good to use her body, and even better to know that nobody was judging her. Or, well, at least not negatively. She caught Pasco’s appreciative gaze on her more than once.

Once everything was prepared, Ada sat next to the fire, pleased to watch the flickering light of the fruits of her labor.

Missa came down next to her. “I saw you working hard. Arms and back must be awful sore. Want a back rub?”

Missa exuded feminine warmth. She was the curviest of the three women, with thick thighs and a cute tummy. Her brown hair was tucked behind her ears, her skin a deep tan. Her tattoos were twirling and delicate, like filigree, in rings all the way up her soft arms.

“Yes,” Ada said. She melted into the woman’s touch. The others finished up and came to gather around the fire.

“Do you want… more than a back rub?” Missa asked. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

Ada considered this. Pasco sat across from her. “How does this work?” Ada asked him. She was quite enamored with him, and though she hardly felt like she needed his permission to do what she wanted, she did respect his feelings.

“Well,” he said, “I want you to be happy. I’m secure. You do what feels good… as long as you don’t mind me watching.”

That kindled her arousal something fierce, and made her glad that she’d asked. Knowing that he’d also take pleasure in what followed made it even better.

“Yes, Missa, I would indeed like more than a back rub.”

Missa cooed happily. “I want to see if I can make you a dragon, is that alright?” She started massaging Ada’s breasts, gently at first.

Little sparks of electric energy radiated from Ada’s nipples, which were becoming firm at Missa’s touch. “Yes, that is very… very alright…”

Missa moved one hand to Ada’s waist, then her stomach, then her inner thigh. Ada shivered and pressed back into Missa’s warm, soft breasts.

Missa’s hand slipped into Ada’s trousers, finding her labia with an intimate familiarity. Missa started a rhythm of stroking with her fingers. It was probably what Missa herself liked and it was different than Ada’s preferred style, but Ada liked the change, liked the novelty. She suspected it would be… very effective.

After some minutes, she peeked over at Pasco. She could see him throbbing through the thin fabric of his trousers. Touch yourself, she thought. She would have told him to, but she wanted him to do it because he couldn’t bear to not, more so than because she told him to.

Missa’s ministrations brought Ada back into her own body for a few more minutes. Missa’s hand was soaking wet from Ada and Ada arched back and ran her hands through Missa’s hair to draw out breathy gasps from the pirate woman.

Ada looked at Pasco again. Not just a glance this time. She locked eyes with him. She grinned and ran her tongue over the teeth of her open mouth. She imagined her dragon’s mouth around him, and she swore she saw the same image light up in his eyes.

He grinned begrudgingly. He withdrew himself from his trousers and started to stroke himself.

Missa slipped a finger inside to curl around to Ada’s spot.

Ada was plenty warm and the sensation was intense and welcome. “Oh fuck…” Ada said. Pasco stroking himself, Missa’s pinch at her nipple, the pressure on her spot, fingers moving through her folds, “Fuck, I’m gonnaaaaaaa!~”

The transformation always felt like she was gasping in, in, in, pulling all of the heat and warmth and pleasure in the world into herself.

Ada barely managed to avoid snuffing the fire as she stumbled to her feet at the edge of camp. She towered over them, though Forte was nearly as tall as her shoulders. Her head was the size of Pasco’s torso. The pirates looked up at her with awe.

That sent a thrill through her. She purred and shook her head, iridescence flickering down her black scales. She spread her bat-like wings to show their shimmering translucent membranes as she settled to lounge at the edge of camp.

“You can touch,” she said to them. “If I say ‘red’, it means ‘stop for real’ and ‘back up because I might crush you’.”

Pasco chortled at that and came to stroke her face again. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, “and strong.”

“Careful,” she said, “the human might get jealous.” That was, perhaps, one of the sadder parts of being able to turn into a dragon. At times, she could feel terribly inadequate standing on just two feet.

Pasco shook his head. “All of you, all the time. Beautiful and strong.”

Ada felt a deep warmth, which was neither particular sexual, nor particularly non-sexual, that she didn’t quite know how to describe. It wasn’t the literal fire that she could breathe, either. It was like a warm hug inside of her. She’d never felt seen, like this, before. And it hadn’t even been a week. How might she feel, how might he know her, after moons or even years? Or might they burn fast and come to fade all too soon?

Missa had the most overt delight and was the first to come and touch. She petted Ada’s scales, then stroked the soft membranes of her wings.

“Ooh that— tickles but— feels really good.”

Missa started to rub and massage what was the palm of Ada’s wing, the place where all the spokes came together, and that set Ada to quivering. Ada had never thought that might be an erotic area for a dragon, but she was learning all sorts of things from these eager pirates.

Pasco ran a hand down her neck and started towards her belly, and Sendia came up in front of her. The woman’s face was angular and cute, her body lithe and slender. She had no breasts and her body was straight and athletic, her blondish hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head. Sendia petted the dragon with glee.

Ada nosed the bulge in her trousers. “I like to suck on something. May I?”

Sendia cupped Ada’s snout in her hands. “Yeah, I’d like that!” She undid her trousers and Ada greedily lapped at her growing shaft. Ada liked the idea of being fucked by someone so cute, just a bouncy, peppy little fuck, and she sunk into that thought as Pasco, Forte, and Teoda evaluated her draconic vulva.

Pasco was sharing what he’d learned so far, offering advice to the other two. Ada couldn’t make out much of what they were saying over the sound of her own slurping and Sendia’s squeaks.

Then it started. Six hands on her. No, eight! Missa had joined in too. The hands were between her labia. All around. Searching, stroking. The moaning started deep within her and made her body tremble.

“That feels so good,” were the last cohesive words she could form.

She had to hold still. This was a delicate thing, one wrong squirm and this could end badly. She groaned and dug her talons into the ground, withdrew from Sendia and snaked her head towards closest tree, biting it hard.

Missa broke away from the rest and came up to Ada’s head. She took Sendia’s hand and lead the other woman up to a rock that was right in the middle of Ada’s view. Missa settled back on the rock and pulled Sendia into her lap. One of Missa’s hands found Sendia’s shaft and the other her balls and ass, and Sendia melted back into Missa just as Ada had.

Ada moaned into the tree trunk in her mouth, making the leaves atop it tremble and sending down a shower of seeds.

It was clear from Missa’s face that she got nearly as much pleasure out of this arrangement as Sendia did.

“Missa,” Sendia said, “Your hands are still s-so slippery f-from princess Ada…”

Missa growled devilishly, a surprisingly aggressive sound from the soft woman. “Ada, how would you like it if I made Sendia come all over your face, all with the slick from your own sex?”

A convulsion of pleasure rippled down Ada’s spine. She would like that very much. All she could do to reply was moan as her eyes rolled back.

Missa accurately interpreted this as a ‘Yes, please’ and diligently set to making Sendia come her little heart out.

Sendia’s moans raised and quickened. The other three pirates at Ada’s vulva found an effective rhythm. Ada’s whole body shook. It felt so good but it wasn’t… it wasn’t going to make her climax. She needed just another little push.

“Missa!” Sendia gasped, “You feel so good up there!” Missa had two fingers in Sendia’s ass. “You know if you do that, you’re gonna make me, you’ll make me—”

Sendia’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes rolled back, and she was the picture of bliss as she burst, her balls convulsing, sending a spray of warm cum over the tip of Ada’s snout.

That was exactly what Ada needed.

Ada tipped over the edge, clawing at the ground and spasming her own load of slick, clear fem-cum all over Pasco, Forte, and Teoda and the ground at her feet.

She ended up in the middle of that puddle, now dwarfed by it, when her breath finally stopped heaving.

But Ada wasn’t done. Head thick with the heady scent of herself, she playfully pounced onto Teoda and brought the woman down into the puddle. Teoda laughed and they wrestled lightly in the puddle, sliding past each other and brushing sensitive places, nipples and inner thighs. Teoda’s reddish-brown hair was cropped short, and she was more muscular than Missa, though still feminine.

Ada eventually ended up on top of the other woman. “What’s your thing?” Ada said. “What do you like?”

Teoda grinned. She looked at Forte. “Thick dicks.” He’d stripped off his slick-soaked trousers to show the endowment that was the subject of Teoda’s affection. Forte was taller and broader than Pasco and a bit lighter, his hair a warm auburn.

“Can I suck on your nipples while he fucks you?” Ada said.

“I’d like that,” Teoda said.

“Can he fuck me too a little bit?” Ada said.

“I’d like that,” Forte said.

Ada started eagerly sucking at Teoda’s tits while Forte lined up. Teoda lay on her back, with her hips up on Forte’s knees, and with all the slick around, Forte quickly figured out that he could pull Teoda up the ramp of his knees and onto his dick, fucking her over himself.

Ada bent over Teoda, sucking at a tit as Teoda slid by, back and forth, which had the effect of tugging her nipple up and down.

“Ooh, that’s a little much—” Teoda said. Ada moved with her more, lessening the tugging. “Ooh yeah… tight there…”

It had barely been a minute before Ada felt Pasco’s hands on her hips, sizing up her sex, which she was waving proud in the air.

“Pasco,” Ada said, “Don’t you dare stand there and not fuck me…”

And then he was inside of her.

And there was nothing else in the world.

He pulled her into a better position and off of Teoda and started fucking her in earnest.

“Hey!” Teoda complained, “Don’t steal my tit-sucker!”

“Sorry, not sorry,” Pasco said. Then, to Ada, “Fuck, you feel good.”

“So do youuuuu,” Ada cooed.

“Ah, too good,” Pasco said, and abruptly slowed. He took a few deep breaths and slid slowly in and out.

Ada shivered and purred.

“Where should I put my seed, love?” Pasco said.

Ada considered, then pulled away and turned around, kneeling in front of him. She took him up into her mouth and he moaned.

“I want a snack,” she said.

“It might be… more like a meal…” he panted. Ada sucked at him greedily, drawing him down into her throat and licking at him with her tongue, the down-scaled version of her earlier trick.

With her hands, she found his balls, his perineum, and teased out moans and gasps from them. Then, finally, she rubbed circles on his rim. He yelped.

“If you do that, you’ll make me— you’ll— fuck, fuck!”

Again she squeezed him as she swallowed his cum, the suction teasing his tip and making him spurt harder. Finally he slowed, and she held him a moment before she gently released him and kissed the underside of his shaft.

She sat back on her heels and looked up at him, grinning, licking a dribble of cum from her lip.

He dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. They watched Forte and Teoda. Teoda was already moaning and spasming.

“Is she orgasming?” Ada said.

“Yeah,” Pasco said, “She has a lot of small ones. Like, dozens. Pretty different from yours, I wager.”

“Heh, yeah.” Ada said. “I think I’d get stuck in some weird half-dragon state if that happened to me.”

Pasco chuckled. “That doesn’t sound so nice. What’s happening here is Forte gets her right to that place and tries to hold them there as long as he can, but…”

Suddenly, Forte started growling. He pounded one, two, three more thrusts, then came to a stop fully hilted in Teoda, quivers running through his hips as he came in her.

“…It’s not easy,” Pasco finished.

Teoda sighed blissily, hugging Forte as he collapsed on top of her, his dick still inside of her.

Missa and Sendia wandered over too, and the party sat in a misty, blissy haze in the puddle Ada had made.

Some minutes later, Pasco said, “We should all go take a bath, huh.”

Cleaning up proved to be just as fun as getting dirty.

Bake Cookies, Write Smut

You have good taste

Tag Archives: FF sex

Chapter 23: Sorcery (Part II)

Chapter 5: Sleepover

The Art of a Bad Day