Author’s Note: This story is a complete work of fiction. It is not a realistic representation of reality, nor is it meant to be taken as such. This work exists in imagination, and only in imagination. Contains themes of fantasy, interspecies relationships, futanari, unrealistic body proportions, and more. Viewer discretion advised. All characters that appear in this work are legal adults.
Marcus strode through the marketplace, the sun just barely setting over the horizon. He pulled his cloak tighter around his face as a chill nipped at his neck. He glanced around the market, scanning each stall and each person that walked around him. A multitude of shapes and sizes of people proliferated this world, no two beings were the exact same. A small dwarf with a beard half the size of his body strode past, his sacks quaking with goods either purchased or to sell. An older woman walked past, carrying a bucket of water on each end of a stick atop her shoulders. A huge orc, with intimidating muscles and a face full of scars, walked straight into Marcus’ path, and he obliged this orc, letting the larger man pass without issue. Marcus was not a small man himself, having worked his body as a warrior for decades to provide for his family. But he was middle-aged now, and his children had grown up and moved away. This made him perfect for the “scouting” mission he had been on for nearly two years.
Two years since I have been home.
He was provided with a large sum of gold when his journey first began, and he pictured himself returning home within six months, welcomed back with open arms to receive his reward.
But now he was down to his last few coins — and when he ran out, he would have to travel home and report his failure. Marcus was a proud man who did not want this. So, he would continue looking until he succeeded. He was in the sixth country during his search now, having travelled almost the entire continent and passed through every major city within them.
His journey was not a normal one, and when he initially attempted to ask locals for help, they would laugh in his face or chase him out of town. So now he simply looked, having exhausted every tale he encountered.
As he continued though the marketplace, nothing especially interesting caught his eye. Weapon vendors, tools salesmen, craftsmen, potters, cobblers, none of this was for him. With the sun about to pass over the horizon, torches were being lit around the market, and shops began to close. Marcus let out a loud sigh and began to walk deeper into town, hoping to find lodging and some food for the night.
On his right, he noticed another market that was partially hidden behind a row of shops, the entrance unmarked, save for some guards. Looking beyond them, he saw people in cages; a slave market. Unlike his own country of Underhill, slavery was apparently still legal in this country, even if the practice was frowned upon. Normally he would have simply passed this market entirely, not wanting to be associated with such a business. But he was beginning to lose hope in his mission, and decided it was best to check it out anyway. He paused at the gate, gathering his breath before entering. He checked that his sword still hung at his waist and walked inside.
Most slave traders would have had their “stock” tied up or shackled to posts, standing near them and calling attention to themselves to make a sale.
“Strong young man here! Excellent worker!”
“Elderly woman, perfect for cooking or watching the children!”
“Orc for sale, the best bodyguard on the market!”
Marcus was disgusted. People who sold living beings like this did not even deserve the title of “people.” He had changed his mind, the slave market had nothing for him. He quickly passed by each stall, hardly glancing at each one, and certainly not trying to make eye contact with any of the slaves who were still shackled up, or already back in their cages. He had seen enough and turned to leave.
But while he was turning something caught the corner of his vision. There was a stall in the back corner, hardly visible, at least, he had not noticed it until now. It did not seem to have anybody manning it, but there was a slave shackled to a post, and sitting on the floor. She seemed to be asleep, as she had her head down as Marcus approached. He paused in front of her, shocked at what he was seeing. This creature, although covered in dirt and bruises, had fair, bright skin that glistened in the sunset. She had dark blue hair that fell in waves off her head, coming down to her shoulder blades, obscuring most of the woman’s face.
On her chest sat the largest breasts Marcus had ever seen in his life, they seemed to each be larger than his head, and sat perky on her frame, hardly sagging at all. Her light dress, which was hardly more than a sack someone had cut to clothe her, did little to hide them.
But then came the real shock, as the young woman moved her legs around — which were also long and shapely — he nearly doubled back at what he saw. At first it appeared to be another leg growing from her crotch, but as he focused in, he saw it was in fact a massive penis.
Even completely soft, it was about a foot long and thick around as Marcus’ wrist, with a head that peeked down towards the ground. It was draped over her insane testicles, which created a valley for her shaft to rest. Each one was the size of a large melon and came most of the way to her knees, not quite as large as her breasts, but even when compared to her cock, they were too big for it.
Marcus was stunned. He had not expected to find this – her — here. He stood mouth agape, still not sure which part of her body to be looking at, as there was a whole lot to take in.
Is she real? Is she some species I have never heard of before? Or is she…
But he did not have the time to decide, as the slave trader appeared from out behind back of his stall.
“Heya there, my friend, sorry, but I am just closing up for the day. Great day too, sold most of my stock, aside from this one here,” the man cocked his head towards the woman still asleep on the ground. This man had a nearly bald head but a sizable beard, as well as a large belly. He stood slightly shorter than Marcus, but he also had a fierce look about him, his prose standing as if he had seen action during his days. His clothing seemed upscale, like he was trying to seem like a professional, but his garbs were dirty, as if he had given up on appearances long after he bought them.
“What is the story with uh, this one here?” Marcus said, gesturing lightly to the woman.
“Well,” the man paused, getting his story in order, “she came into my possession a few months back, as a part of package deal, ya see? Some raiders had gone through some forest and stumbled upon an elf village. Killed a whole lot of ’em, and took the rest as slaves. Been selling the rest of her kind, but she has been a real hard sell, ’cause of, well, ya can see” the man gestured towards her again. Marcus let his eyes drop to her cock again, still not certain what he was seeing was real.
Did he say elf village?
Marcus tilted his head, only now noticing the tip of a pointy ear poking from the long blue locks.
“A real hard sell, you said?”
“The problem is that damn thing between her legs!” the man barked. “Every time someone comes up to my stall, they try to avoid looking at her much as they can. Damn shame, it is, elves normally good to keep as sex slaves, ya see? And this one got all the womanly features a man could ask for. Great body, tits that would put any heifer to shame, and by far the most beautiful of the bunch she came with, which says something, seeing as elves are all easy on the eyes anyhow.”
Marcus looked up to the man, “So…?”
“So!” That thing between her legs scares of ‘eryone! You think any woman would want that this in them? Fuckin’ kill ’em, it would! Men spit on her, either out of disgust or jealousy. Everyone wants what she has, but that is a damn deal breaker! And to top it all off — girl eats like a pack of orcs! Feed her much as I can, yet she still complainin’ of hunger! Can only imagine where it goes,” the man gestured to the girl as a whole.
Marcus was intrigued, “may I speak to her?”
The man looked at Marcus with a puzzled look, but complied, “yeah, let me get ‘er up.”
He came around front of the stall and kneeled next to the woman. He shook her shoulder violently, and Marcus almost intervened, but had to stand back for this one. He noticed her breasts bobbed and shook with each tremor.
“Aight, beastie, time to wake up! Got a customer ‘ere.”
He released his hand and the women slowly stirred. After a moment she looked up, and squinted her eyes, also opening her mouth slightly, as if yawning. She shook her head around and her hair flung wildly, but it stuck together as if matted. It clearly had not been washed in some time. As it settled, Marcus noticed her long pointed ear was more pronounced now. The woman opened her eyes slowly as to adjust to the light.
Marcus’ heart stopped momentarily as she looked into the girl’s eyes, they shone a shade of red he could not describe. No, it was not one shade, but a myriad of red, the streaks surrounded by her sclera, giving her the appearance of having no pupil. It was like staring into fire, a roaring, breathing fire. He could stare into them forever captivated, but the trader intervened.
“Aight aight, now yer up and I expect you to be on the best behavior, lassie. Don’t need you chasing off any more potential sales, aight?” the man turned to Marcus, “I’m going to keep packing my shop, if ya like her, lemme know.”
Marcus nodded to the man and he went away to pack his store. Marcus adjusted his cloak and sword as to not be in his way and got down on one knee to inspect the girl closer. He brought his hand slowly to her face, taking it in his palm and scanning each inch, noting the softness of her skin despite her current situation. The girl moaned lightly, obviously used to the handling. Even being this close, Marcus had to stretch his arm up, as to not touch her large breasts, which stood as a barrier to the rest of her body. He looked down at her package once more, noting how smooth it all was, with a spiderweb of veins crisscrossing the entire surface. The sleeping giant’s skin looked loose, as if it could grow substantially. He looked back into her eyes, stabilizing himself so he would not fall into them. The flames seemed to sway around, as if pushed by the wind.
“What is your name?” Marcus said quietly to her.
The girl struggled to speak, having to gather air before speaking. Her throat sounded parched and beaten, as if she were severely dehydrated.
“Z…Zenna…” she said quietly and with a rasp.
“Where are you from?”
“The n-north. The Hallowmire forest. I lived their w-with my people until bandits came. The..they killed my family. I hi-hid until they were done, but the-they found me, brought me here. The man and the other t-traders here sold off everyone I’ve ever k-known.”
She seemed to struggle with each word. If not physically, then emotionally. Clearly, she was still hurting from having her village ransacked, her family slaughtered like animals.
“Why do you have,” Marcus broke eye contact and looked to her crotch, “this?”
Zenna blushed heavily. It seemed to be a tender subject for her, but she answered.
“I-I do not know why I h-have this. The village elders w-were certain I was under some sort of c-curse, or possessed by a d-d-demon.” She shuffled her legs, as if to try and hide it, but it was too wide for her to accomplish.
“When I was just an a-adult, I began to w-wander outside the confines of my h-home. My m…mother, kept my inside, she feared for my safety if I were to travel around, where everyone would t-taunt me. It would slap against my legs if I tried to run, and it hurt s-so much, I could not keep up with the others in my v-village. My father seemed to resent me for it, he treated me as if he had b-bought into the elders’ theories. I f-f-felt like an outsider, unwanted by my own family. My m-mother still loved me, so I stayed at home helping her while my b-brothers and sisters lived their lives…”
“Does it work?” interrupted Marcus.
Zenna looked confused, “W…work?”
“Like, can you…” Marcus motioned with his hands, first having them together, and then pulling them apart. He then fluttered his hands up, simulating a substantial release of a liquid. The thought seemed to click within her mind.
“Y…yes…actually it works t-too well, maybe? So much comes out, its o-overwhelming…”
Marcus bit his lip, considering his options.
If what she says is true, she is by far the best candidate I have ever come across. I was hoping for a human, but elves have been breeding with us humans for so long, you would be hardy pressed to find someone without a little elven blood in them. She would definitely work.
Marcus did a quick scan of how much money he had remaining. It would only last him a few more weeks, and that is if he stretched it.
Not like I have any other choice; I cannot go home empty handed.
It was time to go all in. The man came back from behind his stall. He looked surprised to still see Marcus present.
“So, what’s it gonna be, eh? Am I just wasting my time with you, too?”
Speaking without hesitation, “how much were you asking for her?”
The man seemed struck. Obviously, this was the first interest he had gotten on her. He looked back down at the girl, her face full of trepidation.
“Well uh, I usually ask around 100 gold for elves, them bein’ so rare an’ all…but this one been a pain in my side so long, I’ll throw her for 50?”
“I can do 40.”
“Deal. Lemme go find ‘er papers.” The man ducked behind the stall once more, looking pleased.
Marcus looked down at Zenna while this transpired. She appeared on the verge of tears, but there was little Marcus could do for her now. He would have to explain everything later. The man came back with a parchment in hand.
“Ere it is, just throw me the coin and sign here, and she’s yours.”
Marcus fished around his pouch and paid the man. He then pulled out a pen and began to fill out the form, while the man searched his set of keys for Zenna’s shackles. Marcus had neglected to ask the man’s name, but he saw it on the form, and it was probably best he did not try to pronounce it, anyways. He signed his name and, against his best wishes, he was now a certified slave owner. He had to convince himself that this was for the better good, and if it did not work out, at least Zenna might be free from this man.
“Think that oughta do it” the man said, counting his gold. “Go ahead an take her, and don’t bring her back, see? Sales final. Try not to ‘ave too much fun with her, eh?” the man chuckled to himself. Marcus was disgusted.
Having her shackles removed, Zenna finally was able to stand. She shuddered for a few moments, clearly having been unable to stand on her own for quite some time. She had to put her weight on the table as she stood, and each shake wobbled her massive chest. As she reached full height, her flaccid rod bobbed slightly across her sack, which pulled at her crotch heavily under their weight. Marcus noted that she hardly came up to his shoulders, despite the size of the rest of her body. Then he took note of her near-nudity, as the cloth she wore hardly left anything to the imagination.
Marcus undid his cloak that was tied around his shoulders, and then walked around behind Zenna to place it over her shoulders, instead. He noticed that her bust was visible even from behind, and in addition, she had a large round butt, sitting atop a pair of legs and flaring hips fit for a goddess. After placing his cloak on her, he walked back around front of her, and Zenna was able to see him for the first time, in detail.
He was a middle-aged man, but not quite so old as to be wholly wrinkled. He had an overgrown beard that clearly had not been shaven in weeks…or months. His hair ran in tangles down to his shoulders, which like the rest of his body, was clad in a suit of armor, save for his head. The protective suit may have once been shiny and clean, but it looked patched together in places, as if he had not been able to do proper maintenance in some time. He appeared well-built, at least based on what his armor would show. His image was wrapped up with a sheathed sword at his side, with a group of patches around his waist. Their attention was quickly captured by the man.
“Hey, hey! You an Underhill knight, eh? What you doin’ all the way out here? Thought slavery wasn’t allow by the laws, there” the man backed up, as if being ready to be attacked.
“It is illegal in Underhill, and this girl will not be a slave. Hopefully, you and I never meet again.” Marcus said quickly and sternly. He placed his hand on Zenna’s shoulder, and pulled her towards the exit. “Let’s go.”
Zenna complied, pulling Marcus’ cloak up around her head. It was the first time she had some clothing in months that actually covered her body, at least somewhat effectively. Her bust still caused the cloak to create a cliff of fabric, exposing her calves. After a moment, Marcus pulled his hand off, and kept walking while Zenna closely followed. They proceeded out of the slave market and headed deeper into town. They passed by groups of people and shops that were closing for the day, or bars that were just ramping up.
Now no longer cloaked, Marcus stood out like a sore thumb, and people gave him a wide berth. No one knew why an Underhill knight was all the way out here, and honestly, no one wanted to know. As they walked, Zenna took in the city around her. Aside from the slave market, she had not seen the rest of this city, or any city for that matter. Truth be told, before she was taken from her destroyed home, she had never left the safety of the forest.
Marcus continued walking, looking over his shoulder frequently to check that Zenna was still present. She lagged behind on occasion, either due to exhaustion or malnourishment, or the soft impacts her genitals landed against her legs as she walked.
He was still trying to process the day’s events, putting in order everything that had happened, and nearly a hundred times he tried to convince himself that he made a mistake. But after two years of his journey, this was his best chance by far. How would he be viewed when he returned home, though?
They walked for a while longer before Marcus pulled them into an inn, one that was just the right mix of affordability and luxury, as to stay away from the rabble he had seen until now. He approached the desk where an older woman greeted them.
“Hello there! Will you be staying with us for tonight?”
“We will. Just one night if that is fine. Don’t care about the room size, honestly the cheaper the better, but…” Marcus looked over his shoulder at Zenna, taking note of her condition. “I will pay for a bath to be drawn; we both certainly need it.”
“Certainly, follow me to your room and I’ll send one of my girls to draw a bath for you and your girlfriend there!”
Marcus almost corrected her but decided just to let it flow. He did still have a wife at home, anxiously waiting his return, but it was easier to just go with it. He and Zenna followed her to the second floor, where she unlocked a room and ushered them inside. It was quite small for what it was, but it had two beds and an empty bathtub beyond them. Besides a dresser, the room was empty. It smelled like flowers, but based on the room’s cleanliness, or lack of, he assumed it must be hiding other scents. He paid the woman, and she went away.
Marcus sat on the farther bed, claiming it as his own. The elf stood near the door, still looking at her feet. Marcus realized this was the first time they were alone together. He sat there for a few minutes, letting her sink in, but she still stood there, not wanting to make eye contact. He stood up and walked to her, placing one hand on each shoulder as to get her attention. She looked forward, but still not into his eyes.
“Please look at me. I am not going to harm you. I know you must be scared, but please believe me.”
Zenna slowly met his eyes with hers, and again Marcus had to stop himself from falling into them. It almost seemed like they were embers of a fire — glowing softly and changing colors right in front of him. He must have stared too long, as she lowered her head once more and fidgeted under his hands, uncomfortable with his touch.
“I am going to go out for a bit, to find you some actual clothes and buy us some food. Tomorrow, you and I will ride a carriage back to my country of Underhill. There, I believe you can help me and my kingdom greatly. Afterwards, you will be free to go. I will explain the rest later but must go now before the shops close for the day.”
Marcus released her and walked towards the door, pausing in the doorway and looking over his shoulder, “will you be here when I get back?”
She did not seem to respond.
“Well, either way I will be back in a few hours. Please take that time to settle in and take a bath when they come and fill it. Oh, not sure if I mentioned this, but my name is Marcus Throydill. Figured you should know,” he said, just before closing the door behind himself.
Zenna immediately fell to her knees, wincing slightly as her genitals were in pain from the impact. She let loose the tears she had been hiding for a while, overcome by the emotions that had built up inside of her for months. She was chastised by the slaver when she cried under his ownership, so this was her first time she was able to let her emotions run their course in a while. She eventually got strength into her legs and dropped herself onto the nearest bed, resting on her side and quickly succumbing to sleep.
She awoke a short time later to the sound of a door closing sharply. The elf spun quickly towards the door. There stood a small woman, hardly older than herself, and nearly as filthy. The woman noticed Zenna, or what she could see from under Marcus’ cloak.
“Ah, sorry there, miss! I knocked at the door, but no one had answered. I am here to draw your bath if you do not mind?” she looked towards Zenna but after receiving no reply, she continued towards the bathtub.
“Well, I’ll just do it anyway, eh? Must be needing a rest after your journey. I’ll get you taken care of, right quick!” the girl’s enthusiasm was nearly intoxicating. She proceeded to the bath, but all she really had to do was turn a few knobs and the icy cold water came pouring in. After a few moments, the tub was full, and the girl turned off the knob.
“I’ll just leave this here for ya, and please enjoy!” the woman said, dropping some soap and sponges on a table nearby. She then left quickly as she came. Zenna watched her close the door quickly behind her. She sat on the bed for a few minutes more, studying the room as if checking for anyone nearby. Out the window, it had gotten darker, to the point where only the very edge of sunlight was still present.
Satisfied that she was alone, Zenna stood and proceeded to the bath. She looked inside at the clear water, much better than she had seen when under the slaver’s care, but still not as clean as the river water she bathed in back at Hallowmire Forest. She placed her hand in the water and felt its chill. Only having ever bathed in rivers, she was used to being submerged in cold water.
Zenna removed Marcus’ cloak and half-folded it onto his bed, taking note of how it seemed to be of high quality, but like his armor, had seen better days, and less repair. She brought her foot over the edge of the tub, working her entire body inside, until only her head was above the waterline. Her breasts, despite their weight, floated playfully in the water and Zenna was relieved — it had been months since she was submerged like this, and the weight off her back was exhilarating.
She sat like this for a long while, just soaking in the water. Eventually she brought the soap and sponge into the tub, and rhythmically washed her hair, head, and the rest of her body, taking care to get the often-forgotten areas under her breasts, and around her crotch. Under the slaver’s care, she was simply hosed down for a short time, and even then, that was rare. To actually be able to clean herself to her heart’s content was a feeling she now felt was taken for granted. Even after feeling wholly clean, she continued to soak for a while still.
Zenna got out of the tub, feeling more refreshed than she had in ages. She took a towel off a hook near the tub and began to dry herself, starting with her blue strings of hair, which could now be seen individually, rather than being clumped together as they were previously. She eyed the stringy hair.
This soap is not that good…my hair is still so dark and dirty, but, it feels better than before.
Satisfied that she was now clean and dry, she replaced the towel and began to look around the room once more, where she noticed a toilet nearby the tub. It was hardly more than a hole whose contents would have been quickly whisked away by gravity, but to Zenna, it was something she had not seen in ages. She used the receptacle as anyone normally would, relishing in the fact that, despite the low quality of the seat, it was leaps and bounds ahead of what she was used to.
As she finished up, she turned back towards the toilet, and that is when the urge hit her.
She had been denied the ability to take care of such urges while chained up, being unable to reach anything, and had to settle for emissions that would happen on their own. But now that she was freed from those chains, she could pleasure herself as she saw fit. Checking the room once more to see that it was empty, she got to work.
She had always seen her third leg as some sort of curse, attached to her as a divine punishment, but, by the gods, the elf could not deny it feel good to let loose.
Zenna started slowly, rubbing her hands along each side of her girthy shaft, feeling the soft folds of skin rub her palms. She had forgotten how good it felt. She applied more pressure to it, wanting to draw as much blood as possible into it. It swelled slowly, given its size it would take a while, but it happened, nonetheless. It began to grow longer, extending downward past the edge of her balls, creeping closer to the floor.
It then began to rise, its head arcing upward from the floor, aiming for the ceiling. It grew thicker and Zenna gave up trying to encircle her fingers around its girth, instead opting to bring her left hand to her corresponding breast. Her fingers sunk deep into the pillowy flesh, groping it and attempting to lift its heavy weight, a difficult task, but not impossible.
A light moan escaped her lips, as pleasures she had almost forgotten returned to her in waves.
With her other hand she continued to rub her shaft with more vigor, feeling her veins engorge under her strokes, filling with blood pumped by her powerful heart. Her length continued to grow until it equaled her leg in length, and its girth was as big around as her thigh.
She had not seen its full size in months, and it still frightened her to see it, like it might attack her at any moment. She could feel each individual heartbeat travel down the veins, throughout the length of her pole. Its head flared angrily after having been denied for so long, becoming a deeper shade of purple as compared to the rest of her pale skin. Her balls also grew, if only slightly, as they were producing at a level they had not done so in quite a while. While she had been able to relieve herself slightly while a slave, it was difficult to get a full release in such an embarrassing situation, let alone with limited mobility.
Zenna was often chastised growing up in her village. Her body contrasted to her shy demeanor, her overwhelming size on all fronts made everyone fearful, or jealous. Other women had hit her with sticks, calling her a cow. The men would retort, saying no, she’s a bull! Even after her village was attacked, she was the butt of jokes between the other elves, who now had to share a cage with her. They took out their anger and frustration on the poor woman, who all the while was suffering, unable to get the release she needed.
But, they were not here now.
With the hand that was still on her breast, Zenna moved it to her engorged nipple, twisting it between her thumb and the rest of her fingers, rolling it about. She moaned softly as her breathing accelerated. She moved her middle finger over her nipple, and inserted the tip inside. She moved the finger back and forth in an increasing pace as her libido skyrocketed. Her hand that was on her cock, satisfied that it had done all that it could possibly do, moved underneath her heavy sack, cupping one of her balls. Having a firm grip, she squeezed it, coaxing it along. Having been denied for so long, this sent unheard-of shockwaves of pleasure, racking Zenna to her very core. Her breathing intensified further as her heartrate plateaued, and she knew she was close.
She continued to squeeze the orb as it trembled against her palm, throbbing with potency, sending her over the edge as her senses dulled. Zenna knew it was coming, as her cock hardened even further, to the point where it was painful. She quickly moved her hips backwards in an effort to get her tip into the drain.
Its head brushed the seat, her sensitive nerves finishing her off. Her semen came out of her with a loud SPLAT! It hit the pipe with enough force to spray back onto her shaft. After the initial burst it petered slightly, and gravity began to pull the yogurt-thick substance downward and out of sight. But Zenna had plenty of backed-up fluid to go around, and her balls would expand and contract slightly each time a burst travelled her length. She began to moan louder, almost culminating in a rasp as the pleasure overtook her senses. This continued for a while, but she eventually began to run out of seed just as the pipe began to back up. She removed her hands from her breast and genitals, instead bringing them to her softening shaft to coax any remnants out of it. After a bit more came out, she was satisfied that she was empty, and pulled her half-hard shaft out of the drain, coming to rest over her balls, which had shrunk greatly.
Zenna peered into the drain, which despite being very deep, was quite narrow, her thick fluid was clogging the pipe. It drained slowly, obviously unused to the insane amount of liquid. The pungent smell made her recoil only a bit, even though she was used to it, she also had not smelled such an amount in ages. Her heart and mind still racing from her masturbation, Zenna washed the tip of her shaft off once more, before draining the tub. She then stumbled her way into her bed, not bothering to put Marcus’ cloak back on, as her body had heated up tremendously, even making the room itself hotter by a few degrees. She climbed under the thin sheets and began to fall asleep, feeling more comfortable than she thought she ever would again.
…
Marcus stood in the hallway with his back leaned against the door. He had opened it slightly a while ago, but after seeing Zenna in the middle of her activity, silently closed it and then simply listened through the door. He heard her rubbing her shaft heavily, before her ever-escalating moans told him that she was close. As she reached climax, Marcus could hardly believe his ears at the amount and force of the liquid she expelled. Through the door it sounded as if she had dumped a huge bucket onto its side. And then how long it took her to finish! But it was all music to Marcus’ ears; he was doubtful before, but now he was wholly convinced this was the woman he was always meant to find.
He was also slightly worried that she may be too much.
After a bit, he opened the door and stepped inside, quietly closing it behind him as he noticed the luscious shape of Zenna’s body under the thin sheets. He set down the food and clothing he had purchased, and then made his way towards the bathtub. It was drained, but Zenna had obviously used it. He filled it back up as quietly as he could, and began to remove all his armor. He then slid into the bath and cleaned himself. Afterwards, he dried himself and was walking past the toilet when he was hit with the intoxicating smell. It filled his nostrils and he became light headed. He peered inside just in time to see a thick white liquid disappear from view.
By the gods…what…is she?
He then quickly threw on his night clothes and proceeded to take the bed opposite of Zenna, looking once more at her before closing his eyes and falling asleep himself.
To be continued.