Daggers & Dewclaws

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This game has erotic content. If you didn't expect that, why did you download it? In this game you explore a fantasy setting of furry creatures and get up to all sorts of lewd fun. You can select from a roster of classes and characters. Each has their own pros and cons, access to different content, and ways of exploring the world. Each also comes with their own mild backstory and minorly different ways of viewing the world. For example, the fighter has a history with some local mercenaries. Meanwhile, the wizard's small size and senses allow him to experience the world in a different way. Currently, this game is still in development. You can support the game's development at <a href="https://patreon.com/CaretakerPublishing">patreon.com/CaretakerPublishing</a> <img src="images/patlink.png" alt="Patreon Link" style="width:42px;height:42px;"> And join the discord to report bugs, typos, and be informed of updates, <a href=https://discord.gg/FV6dnE7mQg>here.</a> <img src="images/disclogo.png" alt="Discord Link" style="width:42px;height:42px;"> [[Begin.|classselect]]''Who will you play?'' A Freeblade, human mercenary. His armor and weaponry set him apart from beginner sellswords, but he is still a novice in many ways. [[The Fighter.|knightstart]] A lithe, curious vulpine wizard. His scant frame is a disadvantage made up for by arcane talents. The search for mystical secrets drives him forward. [[The Wizard.|wizardstart]] A crafty, shifty feline thief. Her wiry body and felid form give her an advantage in climbing and burglary. [[The Thief.|thiefstart]]<<textbox "$name" "Ryth">> <<set $name = $name.trim()>> Class: ''Knight'' <img class="c-select2" src="images/knight.png"> Strength: 16 Dexterity: 12 Constitution: 15 Charisma: 13 Willpower: 9 $name is a human with short, shaggy blonde hair, and fair eyes the color of a clear sky. He has a penis of an average length, and remains a virgin with no sexual experience. He has spent a few summers with the Yellow Stripes, a mercenary band of some repute. On his person he carries a set of medium armor, and an array of useful weapons. He has very little coin. Content: The fighter's content leans toward a balanced role. There are chances to be dominant and submissive. <<set $class = "fighter">>\ <<set $playerStr = 16>>\ <<set $playerDex = 12>>\ <<set $playerCon = 15>>\ <<set $playerCha = 13>>\ <<set $playerWill = 9>>\ <<set $playerCoins = 15>> \ [[Continue.|cityintro]] <<return>> <<set $hasHalf = true>> <<set $hasSword = true>> <<set $hasNbook = false>> <<set $hasAbook = false>> <<set $hasDagger = false>> <<set $hasRobes = false>> <<set $penisLength = "avg">><<textbox "$name" "River">> <<set $name = $name.trim()>> Class: ''Wizard'' <img class="c-select" src="images/river.png"> Strength: 9 Dexterity: 10 Constitution: 9 Charisma: 10 Willpower: 18 $name is a fox with a sleek, fire red coat of fur, and glittering emerald eyes. He has a penis of a below average length, and remains a virgin with no sexual experience. He has eschewed conventional education after a series of experiments got him expelled from an academy. He carries only a thin dagger useful for letter opening, but his tomes are filled with incantations. Content: The wizard's content leans toward a submissive role. There are some chances to be dominant, but they are sparse. <<set $class = "wizard">>\ <<set $playerStr = 9>>\ <<set $playerDex = 10>>\ <<set $playerCon = 9>>\ <<set $playerCha = 10>>\ <<set $playerWill = 18>>\ <<set $playerCoins = 30>>\ [[Continue.|cityintro]] <<return>> <<set $hasNbook = true>> <<set $hasAbook = true>> <<set $hasDagger = true>> <<set $hasRobes = true>> <<set $hasHalf = false>> <<set $hasSword = false>> <<set $penisLength = "smol">> The city of Tappahannock is as developed as a free city could get. Tussled back and forth between Jackelfins on the west and Boars on the east, it liberated itself from both and found a niche as a neutral area. Both countries, and many economic interests, find it a useful place to congregate. The clash of cultures has helped it develop into a metropolitan flower with paved streets, lamp posts, fine and tall buildings, and a diverse population of races. This has also leading to its degradation. As the years went on, the wealth disparity grew, violent crime increased, and it sunk to a shadow of its former self - at least for common people. For a $class such as yourself, it is a hotbed of opportunity. It is time to explore, but keep your wits about you. [[Continue.|tappahannockhubintro]] <span class="img1000">[img[setup.img + 'anxiouspigeon.png']]</span> The city center is clustered and disheveled. The remains of whatever city Tappahannock originally was built upon by newcomers, and it could be seen in layers. The clash of masonry, wooden scaffolding, bizarre banners from neighboring kingdoms and plenty of merchants shouting into the wind. Lots of color is present in the form of people's furs, dyed clothes, and products. You give a look around, pausing and taking stock of what there is to see and do. [[Vist a particular place.|tappplace]] [[Visit a particular person.|tapperson]] <<set _psg to either( 'rainfallcity', 'wolfgirlapples', 'nothing', 'notmuch', 'beggar', 'coins', 'couriergirl', 'lekomeet', )>>\ <<link 'Give a look around and browse, not searching for anyone or anything in particular.' _psg>><</link>> <<if $pigeonvisit is false>>\ The interior of the tavern has a pleasingly gentle din of murmuring, glass clinking, coins, and cards. The murky and smoky air is harder to cut through than the crowds outside, and likewise, the place is packed. Without a hint of music, the background sounds become the dozens of conversations being held. All of which buzz in your ears. The design of the tavern is quite dark. The woods all of a dark and rich brown. What few windows the building possessed are cloaked with tobacco stained beige drapes. The light of the place was provided by a scant few lanterns, the light from which the umber furniture seemed to absorb and wick away. The air is thick with the nose-crinkling scent of tobacco being burnt, barely winning out against the rancid smell of cheap ale and dirt. <<if $class is "wizard">>There was a confusing myriad of scents to say the least.<</if>> You try taking in the many sights, and smells, before you're nudged aside by someone exiting. Quickly you move to the side to observe and deliberate your next move. There is the bartender and barmaid. A gruff man with hair everywhere but the top of his head, and an apron messy with stains. Supporting him is a caprine woman with breasts larger than your head that catch your eye on sheer size alone.<<if $class is "wizard">>You catch the scent of the surly bartender on the barmaid, the hint of human persperation and sexual expenditure, and likewise, her on him. Not too surprising, if they work together.<</if>> Among the more interesting patrons is a Lizardkin with an unusual amount of gaudy jewelry. He exhibits a striking blend of either remarkable self-assurance or blundering naivety, donning such an abundance of wealth in a setting like this. Of special note is the set of wings tucked on his back. Occasionally he flexes them, shrouding his shoulders and sides with them almost like a bat. A rare trait for his kind. He has a corner all to himself, almost hidden away. Prime real estate in a place like this. Around a cluster of three tables dragged together you see the faded, yellowed armbands of the Yellow Stripes. <<if $class is "fighter">>It's hard to tell at a distance if you could recognize any of them. Whether saying hello to them would be a good idea is dubious.<</if>> Aside from those, the bar is otherwise filled with all sorts of drifters, losers, cutthroats, mercenaries, ne'er-do-wells and ruffians. All lamented that the tavern wasn't a geometrically impossible shape that allowed each darkly clad individual their own corner. As such, many have to share tables and socialize with each other. <<if $baratierStage is 1>> [[Speak with the lavishly adorned Lizardkin.|baratier1]] <<else>>\ [[Speak with Baratier.|baratiermenu]] <</if>>\ <<if $class is "fighter">>\ [[Investigate the cluster of Yellow Stripes.|ysknight.]] <</if>>\ [[Snoop around the bartop and order a drink.|barkeep]] [[Return outside.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $pigeonvisit to true>>\ <<else>>\ The interior of the tavern has a pleasingly gentle din of murmuring, glass clinking, coins, and cards. The murky and smoky air is harder to cut through than the crowds outside, and likewise, the place is packed. Without a hint of music, the background sounds become the dozens of conversations being held. All of which buzz in your ears. The design of the tavern is quite dark. The woods all of a dark and rich brown. What few windows the building possessed are cloaked with tobacco stained beige drapes. The light of the place was provided by a scant few lanterns, the light from which the umber furniture seemed to absorb and wick away. The bar is otherwise filled with all sorts of drifters, losers, cutthroats, mercenaries, ne'er-do-wells and ruffians. All lamented that the tavern wasn't a geometrically impossible shape that allowed each darkly clad individual their own corner. As such, many have to share tables and socialize with each other. <<if $baratierStage is 1>> [[Speak with the lavishly adorned Lizardkin.|baratier1]] <<else>> [[Speak with Baratier.|baratiermenu]] <</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">>\ [[Investigate the cluster of Yellow Stripes.|ysknight.]] <<else>>\ [[Investigate the cluster of Yellow Stripes.|yswizard]] <</if>>\ [[Snoop around the bartop and order a drink.|barkeep]] [[Examine your surroundings again.|pigeonlook]] [[Return outside.|tappahannockhub]] <</if>> The entryway to Helarui's Potions is tucked away in a corner, enclosed by a small set of stairs of stone. The exterior of the place is dingy to say the least. The wooden signage is faded of its paint and is weather-worn such that the name Helarui could hardly be read. The windows were dusty and darkened, lined with sun-bleached, multicolored bottles and liquids. The condensation of liquids having evaporated in the sun, only to be caught in the glass again, dotted the bottles. All in all, it isn't the most appealing. Still, you shuffled up the stairs and opened the door. A familiar bell clanging signaled those inside, the Helarui in question, of your arrival. The interior had a strange gloom to it due to the low level of sunlight. The floor twinkled with faint prismatic lights from the window's showcase of bottles. Behind the counter is a creature that, when cloaked in shadow as it initially is, would frighten children to the point of wetting themselves by sight alone. A pair of corrupt, green-glowing globes sat below the vague outcrop of ruddy bone horns and a terrible, lupine visage. At the sight of you, the figure reveals itself more. This does little to dispel her ferocious aura, though. She stands to her full height, her horns nearly scraping the ceiling, and the counter she is behind coming to just at her thighs. Nearly uncomfortably tall, the wolfess is, at just under two meters. Her body is warped too, glamored with the use of magic to be nearly perfect. Large breasts, a shapely ass, an hourglass figure noblewomen would murder for. In contrast to these features is the musculature present, but partly concealed by her clothing. Biceps and thighs hinted at the cut and tense muscles beneath, to say nothing of her broad shoulders. The sort of development that is in complete contrast to the delicious paddings of fat on her body, curiously, and earned through difficult labor and exercise. It wasn't earned through good means. Hard work, yes. But not healthy or moral. And it showed. In the polluted and evil green irises, the long and cracked nails that tipped each finger, the grey streaks in the otherwise onyx fur, and a general aura of malaise she carries. She is dressed in stuffy clothes unsuited for summer. Tight, dark leather trousers which clung to her legs, and a leather cuirass with side latches and a high, rounded collar. <<if $class is "wizard">>\ Your delicate vulpine nose is absolutely assaulted by the deep, rich musk of the wolfess. The pheromones from her are soaked into everything in the shop, and you get the sense its barely held back by the clothing she is wearing. You cannot even fathom how soupy it is in there, especially considering the recent heat. The pangs of sweat, and the scent you identify as her pussy, are intoxicatingly thick in the shop. But, they do nothing to distract you from the reality that her body is heavily glamored. She is covered head to toe in spellcraft to alter her appearance. These are no trivial illusions, but temporary fleshcraft. You can't pinpoint what exactly is edited, and what is natural, aside from her horns - those are pure corruption. <</if>>\ <<genericw>>"Welcome, $class, how may I help you?"<</genericw>> The voice that rolls from her throat holds a curious and vile candor that makes your spine tingle. With everything else, it is the icing on the cake of 'this person is bad news'. [[Browse her goods.|helaruiitems]] [[Ask about her.|helaruitalk]] [[Leave.|helaexit]] You explain to the massive potion seller that you need her strongest potions. <<genericw>>"I am afraid my potions are too strong for you traveler."<</genericw>> There is a pause, your dejection plain and recognizable. <<genericw>>"I can help you with anything you might not understand."<</genericw>> [[Inspect her selection of scent cloaks.|purchasedcloak]] [[Inspect her Potion of Lucidity.|purchasedpotion]] [[Inspect her Potion of Altered Vision.|purchasedpotion2]] [[Nevermind, leave.|helaexit]]<<genericw>>"About me?" Her face curls into a cruel and predatory smile. "There isn't much to know, truthfully."<</genericw>> One of her hands dances up the carvings on her horns. Odd, chipped, triangular shapes and swirling bands are cut into the bone protrusions from her skull. She strokes the horn a single time and thinks. <<genericw>>"Chatting me up won't get you cheaper prices. Don't expect a discount."<</genericw>> You'd never dream of it. You're curious how she came into possession of the shop. <<genericw>>"I moved to the city a few years back in collaboration with a sponsor. He allows me to run my business without interference, I assist him with small matters now and then. It's quite a beneficial back and forth."<</genericw>> Who is this man of mystery, you wonder aloud. <<genericw>>"No one of importance. Was that all?"<</genericw>> Though her tone is inviting, you're at a loss for words. Maybe if you had something specific to bring up with her, you could press her for more. <<return>><<genericw>>"Goodbye then. And be safe." She sneers a grin, and croaks a few notes of a cackle.<</genericw>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] The lizardkin's appearance is distinguished. You approach him and are paused in your tracks by his gaze falling on you. His eyes are like molten gold, slit with pupils of black that seem to sink into the color around them. A few flecks of darker shades mar the pure and precious metal of his irises. It is a special contrast to his obsidian scales, the light of the lanterns beside him playing tricks across the black glass. His head has a pair of ram-horns of bone white which are banded with gold-encrusted rubies. Gemstones you cannot even identify sit atop many rings on his fingers, which he rubs his thumb across now and then. He sits with ease and confidence you've seen many powerful men uphold, lounging back in his chair with one arm slung over the backrest, and a footpaw upon the table. A sheathe of silvery talons lay over his own naturally sharp claws, fitted to a shinguard that travels up from his leg to his knee. The segmented armor stops and, your eyes drift to the exposed, atramentous thigh. A breechcloth lays over his intimate parts, cloth with ringmail placed over it. His adornments are a strange mix of functional, light armor and flashy ornament. It is the sort of opulent stuff you expect on an officer. Despite this, little about him tracked as posturing, he radiates such an aura of strength and confidence you feel the need to stiffen your back up. A smile played across his lips, twitching at the corners and fading back down. His razor-sharp and triangular teeth make themselves apparent as he speaks. His voice has a deep timbre, and flows with a mellifluous sound that is sedating. <<bara>>"Greetings $class, have you come to apply?"<</bara>> Apply, you didn't know there was work. He nods, lidding his golden eyes a moment, and waving his hand to the seat across him. <<bara>>"What is your name?"<</bara>> You give it, he takes a pause before replying, considering the goblet on his side of the table before answering in turn. <<bara>>"I am Baratier. I am a bit of a talent scout."<</bara>> Your first and immediate guess was that he was looking for mercenaries and freeblades. It turns out you were correct, but the scope of his interests is larger than that. As he describes it, his organization is always looking for any sort of gifted and skilled individuals. <<bara>>"So long as you have a love for coin and low morals, we'll have some work for you. But we prefer those who are skillful and have tact."<</bara>> <<if $class is "fighter">>\ You aren't sure if you want to jump into another guild or band already, having just escaped the Yellow Stripes. <</if>>\ <<bara>>"Think you might be interested?"<</bara>> The lilt of his voice was almost seductive, inviting like this is a choice you want to agree with. [[You want to hear more.|baratier1a]] [[You aren't interested.|baratierdecline]] Against your better internal judgment, you approach the table of Yellow Stripes. They pause in their drinking and gambling for a moment to look at you. At first, the faces are hostile and put off. A man with chipped blue war paint glowers at you. Beside him, a snarling hyena beside him spits at the ground and cackles. These people are all strangers. Where are the Yellow Stripes you served with? An Orc with his head leaned forward enough he's nearly tapping the table is nudged aside by someone he's blocking. Finally, a friendly face! <<generic>>"$name!" An excited voice calls.<</generic>> It is a friend of yours, seemingly the only one at the table. It is Ethan, an arbalist of a few years your senior. He waves you over and immediately and excitedly introduces you to the others. While there is a large group, and Ethan is sure to introduce everyone, many nod and turn away. Little interest in you, and a vested interest in the growing pot of coins in the middle of their table. The card game was beginning to heat up, and you are more than happy to be kept away from it. Men and their cards are a dangerous mix. Ethan introduces you to Gilmar, the Orc, and Sable the hyena. Mister war paint, Caleb, gives your shoulder a pat but ultimately stands to go and refresh his drink. <<generic>>"What have you been up to? It's been what, months now," he says.<</generic>> You don't remember him being this jubilant to see you, but you detect some relief in his eyes. You briefly go over how your journey alone has been, and how you arrived in Tappahannock. Gilmar and Ethan listen with reserved interest, but Sable cackles constantly. She laughs in a yipping, bouncing way at every story beat to the point you think she has a serious problem. Her black and tan striped mohawk sways with each guffaw. Of course, you curiously ask what you have missed. And, why there are so few familiar faces? Ethan leads the talk, with Sable adding a chorus of laughing, but Gilmar chimes in now and then. Shortly after you left, Gilmar, Sable, and many of the others at the table filtered in. They begin with the good. Riotously chuckling at the looting and plundering they've done. You notice a severely more dark turn to their behavior. You aren't shy of how men of war act, plunder, theft, and occasional rape were all factors. Live hard, die fast. But the way their faces lit up with glee at the gruesome details sours you. That shift of morality was certainly a factor in your leaving. But after the good, comes the bad. They were recently crushed in a failed campaign against the Lytrian boars, and are licking their wounds from that conflict. In the time you've been gone, the field medic Croaker was killed. And, every name you knew either died or quit. Ethan listing off the casualties was gut-wrenching. Not everyone you got along with but, hearing so many dead due to incompetent command frustrated you. You nearly spill forth the question, why do they all stay? And, Ethan's face shows he is anticipating it. But, you already know the answer. They crave conformity, they need command. They're too fearful to branch out. That is what sets you from them, the will to strike it out alone. They invite you to stay for a drink, Sable rattles out a laugh to try to convince you. However, you simply can't, you can already feel that sinking feeling beginning to clutch at your boots. These people were stuck in the mud, and you didn't want to join them. [[Continue.|tavern]] You approach the bartop. Like much of the building was of a dark, rich brown wood. The surface is notched by blade scrapings, carvings, stained water rings, and messy with small food scraps. Hard to be too picky about the state, considering the busy atmosphere. The barkeep is a prodigiously hairy man. His bushy eyebrows tick to and fro as he scans both sides of you. Apparently, you're not much of interest, or he's just needing to keep an eye on all the shifty sorts within his establishment. His face is like a wrinkled-up leather mitt. There was a certain handsomeness to him. He was likely a burly and attractive gentleman as a youth. It has faded though, leaving behind a potbelly, and muscular but fatty arms. <<generic>>"Whaddya want?" He asks, bluntly.<</generic>> Just as he does, his stern expression softens as the barmaid scoots behind him with a soft and whispered, 'Sorry'. His hand dips below the countertop to her behind him and she squeaks, jumping up, the thick sound of his hand patting her ass ringing out. <<if $playerCoins >= 3>> [[Alcohol! Something mild, an ale. (1 gold)|smolalchy]] [[Alcohol! Something stiff, a shot of Aquavitae. (2 gold)|bigalchy]] <<else>> ''They don't do tabs here.'' <</if>> [[Just a chat!|bartalk]] [[Never mind.|tavern]]<<if $avaStage is 0>>The air gets exceptionally still and charged with a particular energy. Immediately some around you begin closing up shop, and as the sky darkens you understand why. Before you can decide for yourself if you want to be drenched, the clouds release their payload. Warm, summer rain soaks you and many others. There are sharp cries from surprised women, and men rushing to cover their heads under awnings. You spot a small wolf girl opening her yapper and staring up at the sky, drinking the fresh drops. Until her mother tugs her along by her scruff. The rain pelts down on your garments and armor loud enough to be heard. Puddles immediately begin forming in street divots. It was quite a sight to behold, the rain dispersing so many in such short order. And just how the weather went from balmy and pleasant to absolutely pissing. [[Remain awhile, enjoy the rain.|crane]] [[Flee the dreaded rain!|tavernescape]] <</if>> <<if $avaStage is 1>> The rains are coming down heavily again, plinking against your armor in a pleasing rattle. You can't help but think of that crane you met recently, Ava. And her curiosity for a bodyguard. Perhaps it could be some coin, perhaps she was just being polite. Speak of the devil, and she will arrive. Slipping from one alley across your vision is Ava, cloaked in the misty fog of the heavy rain. The grey of the cloudy sky and pelting rain do nothing to obscure her splendid appearance. She tilts her long, slender neck to the side, eyeing you with a single black orb. The small frills on her head perk up and wiggle in the light breeze. She doesn't need to coax you over with anymore. <<ava>>"$name," she says when you get close, bending her knees in a small curtsey as a greeting. The blink of her eyes highlight her long lashes. "Come to enjoy another shower?"<</ava>> You have indeed, and were wondering how she was doing. <<ava>>"Ah, is that so? I am flattered. Well, I must admit I was wondering what you were up to as well. Ahem, I have kept to myself mostly. Finally settled into a location here in the city. And you?"<</ava>> You update her with some small talk, but more importantly, you ask after her location. A home? <<ava>>"A place of business doubling as a residence for the time being. It is a pleasant enough place, if cramped compared to what I am used to."<</ava>> You ask what she does, exactly, for work and she clams up a bit. She claps her beak a few times in thought before making a trill of a sigh. <<ava>>"Importing and exporting, I'd say."<</ava>> Suspect, but even on your initial meeting she was a little cagey. <<ava>>"I now require those bodyguarding services. If you were interested?" She lilts her voice up pleasantly, smiling slyly and expectantly angling her beak up.<</ava>> [[You were interested in it.|avayesinterest]] [[Not in particular.|avanointerest]] <</if>> <<if $avaStage >= 2>> Coins, but for free. On the floor, in a small precious little pouch, money. You see a glint of gold, but will you take it? There doesn't seem to be anyone around, and the others around you haven't noticed it. <<linkreplace "Take them!">>\ <<include "randomcoins">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <</if>> The ebb and flow of the marketplace is largely unremarkable aside from a raggedy looking wolf girl. She is shorter than you expect, <<if $class is "fighter">>normally they're taller than humans<<else>> normally they're taller than most other races. <</if>> She is in nothing but scraps. A loose, roughspun brown tunic hangs from her shoulders, it's ripped around the abdomen. Her coat is a ruddy, earthy tone, with softer shades of tannish in places such as her chest and belly. Her furry tummy is exposed, and the precious spots between her legs are only scarcely hidden behind a loincloth of tattered fabric. She's carrying a basket of apples under her arm and looking around searchingly. She loses grip of it and drops the basket, spilling out some fruits - one of those shiny red apples lands right by your boot. Immediately she leans down to collect her goods. From her bent over state, she looks at you and smiles a wide grin of teeth. She looks unkempt from this distance. A bit of matted fur, the glistening of oil and sweat on her. [[Help this beleagured girl.|helpapple]] [[Kick it toward her, but carry on.|tappahannockhub]] You decide to indulge in the rain for a while, to feel it on your hair and skin and listen to its sounds. The smell is surprisingly wonderful, it dampens the stench of the city immediately and adds a layer to it in the form of a wonderful earthy tone. Damp dirt replaces the various musks and stinks of the comers and goers. What's more, the center and streets are practically barren now. After just a few moments the sounds of rainfall are joined by the trickle of water as it runs down along rain gutters to the sewers. The gurgle and hiss of these temporary rivers tickle your ears. The feeling of the droplets on your head is soothing, relaxing tense muscles and giving you a pleasant shiver. Just as your eyes flutter and you turn your head to scan over the empty streets, something appears. From the mist comes a dark and short figure. And a slight humming sound. You stop, absorbing what you're seeing and trying to discern just what it is. At first, the shape is short and wide, rounded. But as it draws closer you see that those are in fact just long and lavishly feathered wings. A tall, sleek, and elegant crane slinks from this small and compressed shape, splaying out both of her wings in a shuddering shy, on of her clawed grips on an umbrella of pink. This pink accessory clashed pleasantly with the rest of her garb, which was of a silky and black sort, a robe of some foreign design you'd not seen before. Floral patterns rode up along her back and sides. She tilts her sharp beak to the side, and her wide, hazel eye narrows at you. The plumage on her head flares up and stands on end with a bounce. She waves her free hand, smiling such as birdfolk can. [[Smile back, and wave.|cranetalk]] <<set $ava = true>> You hurry along and out of the rain, covering your head with your hand, and slip into the nearby tavern. [[Continue.|tavern]] You can't help yourself from signaling back to this fellow weather enjoyer, and she beckons you closer. As you approach the rain begins to quiet, finding a lull, settling to allow you two to talk it seems. <<ava>>"Greetings, man, I see you have the fortitude to enjoy the summer showers."<</ava>> A smile creeps across your face and you agree they're enjoyable, explaining you got caught out in the downpour and decided to stay. At this she sighs and tips her umbrella aside, covering you in part but exposing her shoulder and back to the rain. This doesn't seem to bother her at all. And, the pair of you closen by necessity, a curious sort of intimacy under the umbrella. <<ava>>"I miss the rains from my home. I wish there was more cloudy days here in Tappahannock."<</ava>> She looks up at the sky from past the lip of the umbrella. With how little she cares about getting wet you wonder why she had it at all. You ask her where she is from, and she dismissively waves her hand. <<ava>>"Hm, somewhere far away. I reckon you've not seen many who look like me, correct?"<</ava>> That is true, you had perhaps seen only one or two travelers like her, regal-looking cranes. But it is an extreme rarity. You wonder what brings her here and she gets a little shifty, giving you a nothing answer and flipping it back on you. <<if $class is "fighter">> Being a freeblade, this city has a lot of potential work, you puff out your chest and show off your breastplate and the weapon at your hip. She smiles with a warmth matching the summer rain. <<ava>>"Any experience as a bodyguard?"<</ava>> No, in truth not. But how hard could it be? [[Lie, and tell her you do.|chafail]] [[Tell the truth, be open that you haven't. But tell her about your other experiences.|cranetruth]] <<else>> There is a pause in the conversation and she seems to appraise you, deeming you unfit for something, by the way she tuts and shakes her head. She turns her slender, beautiful neck to the side and looks with a semi-surprised expression at the stop of the rain. <<ava>>"Excuse me, have a pleasant day."<</ava>> She departs from your company without another word, hurrying off down the road she came along. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <</if>> You try to posture and go over your false experience of bodyguarding, but between fumbling your words and her asking probing questions you can't keep the falsehood up. It is clear to both involved that you told a lie, and couldn't back it up with a glib tongue. She gives you a tutting sound and an off-put look of disregard. She turns her slender, beautiful neck to the side and looks with a semi-surprised expression at the stop of the rain. "Excuse me, have a pleasant day." She departs from your company without another word, hurrying off down the road she came along. You're left with an annoyed, ashamed feeling. Such is the reward for being deceitful without the skills to back it. [[Continue.|tapexit]] You admit you haven't done bodyguard work per se, but quickly transition to your other experience and accolades. It flows naturally, telling her about your work with the Yellow Stripes, and how they've been on the decline. She probes you about their management, and how you felt the upper ranks were merely ransacking the coffers and raking up all they could as the reputation of that once great mercenary company tanks. It isn't a healthy environment to be in as a footman, which is what drove you away. Little coin and a high risk of career-ending injury or death do not make for an appealing option. She is eager to hear more, and as you move away from the topic of the Yellow Stripes, and talk about the time you crossed blades with a boar knight off his horse. The porcine menace had a head over you in height, and more expensive armor than yours. Even so, with a bit of quick thinking and borrowing a fallen foe's spear, you managed to skewer him from his left hip through to his right shoulder. The shock of your blatant, visceral, and raw details of the encounter have the crane clapping her beak together in small gasps. Her head plumage stands on end in surprise. <<ava>>"Guarding a single person seems a lot easier than that, so long as you could stay on your toes and watch out for them."<</ava>> As she speaks she gets close enough to you that her chest is nearly pressed to your breastplate, her long and slender neck's plumage glittering even with the very dim light of overcast. It is hard to tell what emotion her coy hazel gaze was trying to project to you. She asks after your name quite suddenly. <<ava>>"$name, is it? Curious. I like that. You may call me Ava, that will do."<</ava>> Something about her statement clues you into that not being her real name. Then again, many people in this city are shifty sorts. Her quick look around and sudden pull away from you clues you that the rain has stopped. <<ava>>"I am afraid I must go," She smiles and brushes a hand down your shoulder, and rattles her talons against the metal of your armor. "Perhaps I will see you again, I would like to hear more of your exploits."<</ava>> You only have time to nod your goodbye before she's off into the quickly fading mists. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $avaStage to 1>> Not a good goddamn thing happens. You sit and stare awhile, watching people come and go. The closest thing to something of note is watching a boar knight trip on a loose cobble stone. The squeal he makes when he kicks his hoof to it and sends it skittering on rings in your ears. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] When you cast your gaze across the town, your search yields little of interest. The daily routines of the cityfolk seem to carry on without any remarkable changes. It's a reminder that sometimes even the most observant eye can find moments of quiet amidst the bustle of life. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] You pass by the market stalls in a bit of a window shopping jaunt, the shade of buildings to your left giving a little reprieve from the sun - and hiding a tramp. An unsightly, unkempt beggar suddenly clutches at your thigh, grasping at a bit of loose cloth. A dry, hoarse voice asks for some charity. You turn and examine the figure in surprise. You smell urine. The armadillo is in a sorry state. <<if $class is "wizard">>You realize with a slight sniff of the air that, more likely than not, that isn't the armadillo's urine marking him. <</if>>With a severe pang of revulsion you realize some of his hide shows signs of plague. With haste you pull yourself free and distance yourself, but his pathetic disposition tugs at your empathy. [[Show him charity.|hobocoin]] [[Shun him.|nohobo]] Coins, but for free. On the floor, in a small precious little pouch, money. You see a glint of gold, but will you take it? There doesn't seem to be anyone around, and the others around you haven't noticed it. <<linkreplace "Take them!">>\ <<include "randomcoins">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] He isn't affected at all by your decline of his offer. He makes a small sound, wafting his hand dismissively. <<bara>>"I understand, job offers from such a handsome man can be intimidating. Return to me if you wish, but if there is nothing else. I bid you good day."<</bara>> [[Continue.|tavern]]<<bara>>"As the work is quite diverse, and tailored to the individual, why don't you tell me more about your skill set before I proceed?"<</bara>> <<if $class is "fighter">>\ You tell him about your experience with the Yellow Stripes, some of the battles you've participated in along the rivers of Lackrouth in the North, and the plains of Lytria to the east. He allows you all the time you need to express yourself. He asks no questions though, taking only what you describe to him. <</if>>\ \ <<if $class is "wizard">>\ You tell him about your time in the Flakefeather Academy. You quietly leave out your expulsion. However, your high marks and time experimenting are worth mentioning you think. His eyes seem to grow more focused and narrow when you mention your delving into transmutation magic. He doesn't say anything, merely making some sounds to show his active listening. <</if>>\ \ He smiles nods, and listens until you've exhausted what you think its worth informing him about. <<bara>>"I think a $class of your caliber could be a valuable asset."<</bara>> He leans forward, getting close to you, and speaking so quietly you barely hear him. <<bara>>"Are you shy about dangerous and immoral acts?"<</bara>> [[Yes, you have a rigid moral backbone.|baramoral]] [[No, they are needed at times.|lightnobara]] [[No, you revel in them.|heavynobara]]<<bara>>"I am sorry to hear that, if only for the fact that it precludes you from participation in what I have to offer."<</bara>> He returns to his reclined position, speaking at a normal volume again. <<bara>>"Thank you for the talk but, I will have to bid you good day. Return to me if you have a change of heart."<</bara>> [[Continue.|tavern]] He nods, satisfied with your answer, turning his head away from you toward the goblet beside him. He reclines once more and wets his palatte with what you believe is wine by scent. <<bara>>"Pragmatic."<</bara>> [[Continue.|baratier1c]] His face ticks into a smirk very briefly, before he swallows and speaks at a normal register. <<bara>>"I have an associate who you might find a kinship with."<</bara>> He offers a singular, bitter chuff of a laugh. You get the sense he doesn't agree with this associate's stance by his reaction and expression of mild, amused irritation. [[Continue.|baratier1c]] He takes a pause to collect himself a moment and proceeds into the meat of what he'd like from you. With your agreement and interest, you will be welcomed into his group. <<bara>>"I can be approached for jobs at your leisure in the beginning. If you show merit, I may seek you out specifically in the future. Don't get your feathers all ruffled up, truth be told many of the tasks are simplistic. The pay is more than adequate."<</bara>> You nod, inclining your head for him to continue. His expression turns from one of businesslike politeness to something more sinister. He exhales entirely, canting his head down, looking straight toward you like a predator does prey. You notice his body tense in a few places. <<bara>>"Initiation into the organization requires some form of submission. In order to keep our secrets, we like to collect some of yours. Mutually beneficial to remain silent."<</bara>> The gold of his eyes flares for a second. <<if $class is "wizard">>Your knowledge of the arcane clues you into the fact he's casting a spell! And, silently too. Being able to do so without vocal or somatic gestures speaks to his mastery over it. You catch his lips barely whispering something.<</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">>You aren't sure what that means, but you catch his lips barely whispering something.<</if>> You feel yourself subsumed into his will, a shroud falling over your mind. <<if $class is "wizard">>A last-ditch effort to shake it off and produce a counterspell fizzles out on your lips.<</if>> An almost flu-like haze falls over you, a violated feeling of possession and intimate observation. Your muscles slacken, and you lack fine control of your form. <<if $hasClearpot is true>>The Potion of Lucidity you imbibed still swirls around your veins. You could call upon that surplus of power, and [[push through his spellcraft using your own willpower.|baratier1res]]<</if>> The feeling of being a puppet isn't helped when Baratier tilts his head and moves his fingers slightly and you feel your head sway along with them. <<bara>>"So, what will it be?" he hums in thought, "What do I want from you?"<</bara>> [['"Tell me some of your intimate secrets."'|baratierbasic]] [['"I will have you worship my paws."'|baratierpawlick]] [['"I will have you treat my cock with your mouth."'|baratierbj]] <<if $blackmail is true>>\ [['"That is enough, you may go."|barablkdone]] <</if>>\<<bara>>"Tell me some of your intimate secrets."<</bara>> Immediately, without reservation, you begin spilling your guts to Baratier. <<if $class is "fighter">>You tell him that in your first battle, you wet yourself in fear. You describe to him your average, and still virginal, penis. The contents of your purse, your opinion about your parents, your business in Tappahannock, and a slurry of small embarrassing moments and secretive details about yourself spill forth. <</if>>\ <<if $class is "wizard">>\ You tell him that you were expelled from Flakefeather for dangerous experiments involving transmutation and necromantic stitchery of corpses. You admit to him you have an undersized penis, you're a dicklet. This brings a wide and ravenous smile to his features. <<bara>>"Show me."<</bara>> You flutter and bat your lashes, woozy with the hypnotic spell applied to you. With a vague awareness that you're in public, about to expose yourself to another man, you undo the sash around your trousers and pull them down. You move your tunic up as well, exposing the soft whitish fur of your belly. And right there between your legs, the undersized, itty-bitty cock and the accompanying testes. Baratier looks it over and nods, waving his hand. You loosely redress yourself. You can't turn your head to check, but you pray no one saw. <</if>> \ The voice you're speaking with is so soft and groggy you scarcely recognize as your own. It sounds as if you're sleep talking, and you feel on the verge of slipping into a nap. You hardly have the energy to be upset what with how drowsy you feel. \ <<set $blackmail = true>>\ <<return>><<bara>>"I will have you worship my paws."<</bara>> He points to you, and then taps the tabletop with his nail twice. You immediately understand you need to dive under the table between his legs. A small voice in your mind warns you that you're in public, others could watch. Stop yourself before indulging in this humiliation further! But you can't. A lethargy has washed over you with an intensity that allows only the actions Baratier commands. And, he's ordered you under the table. So, you sink below it. The lantern light barely filters down there, providing a sort of secrecy to the event that is some small comfort. He kicks back on his chair, leaning it to the wall and outstretching his left paw to you. He splays the black, soft looking pawpads and toes. Silvered claws atop peeking up from his dark natural talons. The scent isn't too strong, and almost pleasant. It's surely just his hypnotism but, the scent of his footpaws was making you tingle with excitement. <<bara>>"Well go on, worship them."<</bara>> [[... with reluctance, fight back as much as you can.|reluctantbpaw]] [[... with pleasure!|excitedbpaw]]<<bara>>"I will have you treat my cock with your mouth."<</bara>> He snaps his fingers and points down. Without control over yourself, there is little you can do but sink below the table. You consider all those around, who may be watching or seeing, and if anyone will realize you're going under the table to blow this lizard. The outside world beyond the discreet, dark underside of the table fades into the background. The mull of the bar's many sounds become nothing but ambiance. As Baratier uses a hand to shift aside his loincloth. Revealed, a flaccid, deliciously pink pointed cock waiting in rest. Below it, a pair of heavy testicles in a leathery pouch. His size put yours to shame, even at your best. He leaves his hand on his inner thigh, cupping there. The spot between his legs, thighs and all, had some appeal. Is that part of the hypnotic suggestion? Whatever spellcraft addling your mind is making that soft spot seem so appealing. You nudge closer, and closer still. You've never sucked a cock before, nor had the pleasure done to you. Clumsily you lick and lap at his flaccid penis, urged on by internal suggestion and some vague instinct. He rises to the occasion but not without help from himself, teasing the base of his penis with his fingers and stroking himself out to a full erection. Thick at the base, and middle, but he slenders out slightly before the glans' girth. Against all your want, you pop his cock's head into your mouth and suckle weakly. Your tongue is treated to a soft spurt of salty, clear material. Pre cum, you're being made to swallow another man's pre. Your nostrils flare at his sexual scent, deeply masculine and familiar in some ways to your own. The wrongness of it stirs you between your legs. You feel your brow just barely crinkle in resistance to this, before he cups your head and chin with his hands and begins humping his way forward. He isn't fast or forceful, but he isn't waiting for your novice skills to suddenly improve. He takes charge, merely using your mouth as a receptacle for his penis. You begin to go a bit slack, holding onto his thighs. And then, something tells you to cup and support his balls. You feel their warm surface, and recognize just how virile this black-scale must be. You're halfway down his shaft and he's scraping your uvula, you should be proud. His exhales of pleasure begin to get almost noticeable, and looking up with your droopy eyes, you see the hallmarks of enjoyment muddy his still expression. He strokes what portion of his cock you cannot fit into your mouth and throat, and bids you to lick and suck on what is present. You do so, but the spell has removed much of your vigor. After a few moments of effort, you feel Baratier tense, his footpaws talons rake the floorboards and he grunts a single time. His ball bag pulls tight to his body and he begins cumming in your mouth. A series of short, powerful jets of semen squirt themselves down your throat and across your tongue and you immediately gag, coughing cum back out at his cock in surprise. The sedating effects of his spell, however, compel you to swallow much of his seed. The thick, salty, odd taste is new to you. You'd never experimented with trying your own, and never been with a man before. And now one is ejaculating down your throat. You clutch at his thighs as you force down the mouthfuls of semen. It is with great relief that you return topside from the table, the fever of the event still clouding you. <<set $blackmail = true>>\ <<set $gaveBJ = true>>\ [[Continue.|baratier1c]] Baratier flares his nostrils, and exhales firmly. The smell of brimstone and ash floods your sense and you're snapped back to reality. <<if $gaveBJ is true>>There is an odd taste in your mouth.<</if>> What happened? <<bara>>"That will suffice. Return to me soon, and I'll have work for you. You seem promising."<</bara>> Wishing to part from the man, you hold your head and turn away, nodding. You really hope he didn't tell you any details of a job, you seem to have blanked out a moment. /* Include stage progression */ [[Continue.|tavern]] <<set $baratier = true>> <<set $baratierStage = 2>><<textbox "$name" "Esperanza">> <<set $name = $name.trim()>> Class: ''Thief'' Strength: 10 Dexterity: 16 Constitution: 12 Charisma: 15 Willpower: 9 $name is a cat with a svelt, black coat of short fur, and woeful ochre eyes. She has a pair of average breasts, and has some small sexual experience. She has taken care of herself ever since the death of her parents at an early age. She picked up on useful skills here and there from many passing teachers in her travels. Some extracted higher payments than others. <<set $class = "thief">>\ ''Thief currently isn't implemented!'' <<set $class = "thief">>\ <<set $playerStr = 10>>\ <<set $playerDex = 16>>\ <<set $playerCon = 12>>\ <<set $playerCha = 15>>\ <<set $playerWill = 9>>\ <<set $playerCoins = 40>>\ <<return>><<if $class is "thief">>\You pay your due and are presented with a watered-down draught of beer. Despite ordering an ale, you're given a beer. Your short and triangular nose gives a few sniffs of the beverage before you roll your eyes and give it a drink. God forbid you're given what you pay for, and woe be upon any bargoer who wishes for a pure and unmuddied product. You're so riled up by the mishap and poor-quality beverage that you don't finish the mug. When the time is right, you swipe back your coin. <<return>> <<else>>\ You pay your due and are presented with an ale. It could be worse. You take a few drags of it, the foam catching to your lip. A woman comes up behind you, a human, and bumps into you. Her hair is bouncy and bright with a reddish hue to it, falling on her pale cheeks and outlining her amused and slightly dazed expression. She apologizes and smiles. She orders something for herself and asks after your business in the city. You tell her a little, but are distracted by her form. A purple silken tunic tucked tightly into black trousers barely conceals her breasts. The outline of piercings on her nipples is visible, a bar through each. She catches you looking and dips forward a bit, giving you a better peek at her cleavage. "I just dropped in for a little drink before meeting a friend, or else I'd show you more, handsome. Bye now." Just as quickly as she presents herself, she disappears. She had quite a liberated disposition. <<set $playerCoins -= 1>> <<return>> <</if>><<if $class is "thief">>\ It is with mild, subdued surprise that you see the barkeep pull up one of the lovely decanters of alcohol from Galendoria to the north. The frosted bottle appears half full, the clear liquid flowing smoothly from the thin neck. He pours you a shot. You drain it in a single stroke, admiring the taste. Clear, harsh flavor that settles to the tongue for only a second. The buzz would be along soon, if you were a lightweight. Sadly it takes a few more than that to get you going anymore. <<set $playerCoins -= 2>>\ <<return>> <<else>>\ The barkeep pulls out a fancy bottle of frosted glass, with a fat bottom and long, thin neck. He sloppily pours out a shot, just a dribble being wasted to the wood. You take the shot glass tentatively to hand and down it. Harsh, burning, pungent alcohol taste fills your mouth and nose. That would be enough for now, you think. A buzz should briefly settle in soon. <<set $playerCoins -= 2>> <<return>> <</if>><<generic>>"What?" He replies, stunned by your desire to merely converse with him. "If you fuckin' ask about rumors I'm jumping over this counter to sock you."<</generic>> You quickly make it clear that you don't want a swollen lip, just a bit of chatting. He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to buy something or jump ass-first onto a pike. While you're parsing that, someone shoulders into you and orders something. The bristly, lanky vulpine apologizes profusely until he gets his drink. The barkeep has already moved on from paying you mind, barking something to his co-worker. You wonder why this place has any customers at all with service like that. [[Continue.|tavern]] You grant him a little charity in the form of a coin. His haggard expression lights up and he clutches the coin to his claws, slinking back to the shade. He offers many blessings from his pile of rags. <<set $playerCoins -= 1>>\ [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] You pity the unfortunate, but have no coin to spare for him. He spews a few harsh words at you, but what else can he do? He dejectedly lets go of you and sinks back to the cobbles. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] /*General stats*/ <<set $playerStr = 5>> <<set $playerDex = 5>> <<set $playerCon = 5>> <<set $playerCha =5>> <<set $playerWill = 5>> <<set $playerCoins = 0>> <<set $penisLength = "None">> <<set $virgin = true>> /*Fighter inventory*/ <<set $hasHalf = false>> <<set $hasSword = false>> <<set $boarToken = false>> /*Thief inventory*/ <<set $hasLeather = false>> <<set $hasBlackjack = false>> <<set $specialBottle = false>> /*Wizard inventory*/ <<set $hasNbook = false>> <<set $hasAbook = false>> <<set $hasDagger = false>> <<set $hasRobes = false>> <<set $prostitute to false>> /*Baratier phasing*/ <<set $baratierStage = 1>> <<set $gaveBJ = false>> <<set $hasDeadd = false>> <<set $hasJibook = false>> <<set $baragoalask to false>> /*New area intro checks*/ <<set $beccavisit = false>> <<set $fridge to false>> <<set $hitailvisit = false>> <<set $pigeonvisit = false>> <<set $surgeonvisit = false>> <<set $cathvisit to false>> <<set $cathBanned to false>> /*Helarui shop items*/ <<set $hasScentcloak = false>> <<set $hasHerbs = false>> <<set $hasClearpot = false>> /*Baroness phasing*/ <<set $boarToken = false>> <<set $boarPanties = false>> <<set $slopespineFirstvisit to false>> <<set $seraStage = 0>> <<set $boarSub = 0>> <<set $boarDom = 0>> <<set $firstRoom to false>> /*Clarissa phasing*/ <<set $clarissaStage = 0>> /*Ava phasing*/ <<set $avaStage = 0>> /*Yulha phasing*/ <<set $yulhaStage = 0>> /*Bunnymasks*/ <<set $hasBunnymask = false>> <<set $bunnyStage = 0>> /*Uncatagorized*/ <<set $playerTribute to 0>> <<set $firstPassage to false>> <<set $farahFuck to false>><div id="character-sheet">\ <h3>[[Character Sheet|charasheet]]</h3> <table> <tr> <th>Attribute</th> <th>Value</th> </tr> <tr> <td>Strength</td> <td><<print $playerStr>></td> </tr> <tr> <td>Dexterity</td> <td><<print $playerDex>></td> </tr> <tr> <td>Constitution</td> <td><<print $playerCon>></td> </tr> <tr> <td>Charisma</td> <td><<print $playerCha>></td> </tr> <tr> <td>Willpower</td> <td><<print $playerWill>></td> </tr> <tr> <td>Coinage</td> <td><<print $playerCoins>></td> </tr>\ </table>\ </div>\ [[Inventory|inv]] <a href="https://discord.gg/FV6dnE7mQg"><img src="images/disclogo.png" alt="Discord Link" style="width:42px;height:42px;"></a> <a href="https://patreon.com/CaretakerPublishing"><img src="images/patlink.png" alt="Patreon Link" style="width:42px;height:42px;"></a> Currently, you possess: <<if $hasHalf is true>><<include "halfplate">><</if>> <<if $hasSword is true>><<include "longsword">><</if>> <<if $hasNbook is true>><<include "grim">><</if>> <<if $hasAbook is true>><<include "arctome">><</if>> <<if $hasDagger is true>><<include "dagger">><</if>> <<if $hasRobes is true>><<include "robes">><</if>> <<if $hasDeadd is true>><<include "deaddrop">><</if>> <<if $boarPanties is true>><<include "usedpanties">><</if>> <<if $hasHerbs is true>><<include "herbbundle">><</if>> <<if $hasScentcloak is true>><<include "scentcloak">><</if>> <<if $boarToken is true>>Token of Passage; a small wooden figure. The carving is of a matronly looking boarwoman, with her hands over her tits and prominent tusks to match her rounded belly. This allows free, safe passage into Lytria.<</if>> <<if $hasJibook is true>>Madame Ji Stillblossom's blackmail book. It's small, with a black leather cover on both ends. The pages inside are yellowed and worn. [[You could give it a read.|jibookread]] <</if>> <<return>> You collect the bounty and add it to your own pouch, a boon of five gold! <<set $playerCoins += 5>>\ You lean over to grasp for the fruit and when you do, your head is dipped low enough to get a peek past the girl's loincloth. It's a bit of a shock at first, but now that you're staring at her cunt, it's really no surprise she is bare of underwear. Her pussy is hidden partly by fur, but you can see her delicious looking labia tucked tightly between a pair of admirable thighs. She seems to catch you looking, which makes you stir and stand up straight. She collects a few more, and you collect a few more, and meet in the middle. You empty your arms into the basket and smile <<if $class is "fighter" or $class is "thief">>down <</if>>at her. <<genericw>>"Saw something liked?"<</genericw>> You're not sure what she means. She shows her teeth, peeling back the lips in a feral expression. She moves aside the basket from her midsection, holding it under one arm, and with her other hand, she moves aside her loincloth. <<genericw>>"Like thing?"<</genericw>> She smells so strongly of female wolf pheromones that you're a bit dazed, and her inability to speak properly isn't helping. This isn't a normal state of being, this wolfess is an outlier, scant few are so feral as to struggle to form full sentences. [[You like thing. It's good.|offerapple]] [[That's very kind, but you are fine with not seeing any more of thing.|noapple]] She responds to your appreciation of her with a grab to your groin, cupping and groping your package right in public.<<if $class is "wizard">> She gives you a concerned, confused look for a second, "Where?" Then, she has an 'aha' moment, and finds your little pecker.<</if>> She gives a not-so-gentle, but plenty eager, squeeze. <<genericw>>"Twenty gold, get taste. Forty, feel inside."<</genericw>> Outrageous, those prices! Twenty gold for what? To eat her out? Taste her musky wolven cunt? And forty for a rut? She is clearly insane and stupid. That's a week's wages. But, she is vigorously rubbing your cock in public. You need to figure out what you want to do before a guard gets you both for indecent exposure. You've seen what happens to people in the shame stockades. [[Taste thing.|oralapple]] <<if $virgin == true>> [[Fuck thing.|fuckapplecheck]] <</if>> [[Too expensive.|noapple]] <<set $apple = true>> She scoffs at you, concealing herself again. So modest. She mumbles and grumbles, but merely walks off, leaving you alone. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] She grabs your hand and eagerly takes you to an alley, the thin crevice between buildings offers a modicum of shade from the sun, and more privacy than nearly dead center in the market. There, your only concealment was the crowd. Here, the muffled sounds of people, and the shifting shadows of them crossing in front of the alley are less pressing. She grunts and tilts her head at you, setting down her apples and holding out her hand. The money, right... <<if $playerCoins <20>> You don't have the coinage. You fish around in your purse for the required amount. The privilege of licking her cunt isn't cheap you know. But the coins just aren't there, you've got $playerCoins but that's not enough. She gives you an annoyed look, you guess she can read the poverty on your face. "No coin?" She snarls, drooling a little from a lip. <<genericw>>"Why waste time? No pussy for $class."<</genericw>> She grabs her apple basket again and carries off, her plush butt wobbling behind her. Would have been good to grope that. Next time, perhaps. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<else>> You pay over the twenty coins, and she drops them haphazardly into the bucket beside her. The rattling of gold on the skins of apples makes an oddly curious percussive sound. There is almost a moment of mourning at having blown 20 gold on tonguefucking a wolfgirl. <<set $playerCoins -= 20>> She puts her clawed hands on her hips and spreads her legs, widening out her space to something quite authoritative. Her wider posture makes it such that her loin cloth covers nearly no part of her thighs, keeping secret only the snatch between her legs. <<genericw>>Her lips peel into a wide smirk, her teeth slick with spit, and generally looks more wild animal than female. "Go. Will watch."<</genericw>> This is what you paid for after, isn't it? You slip to your knees and get your face right with your prize. The scent is intoxicating.<<if $class is "fighter">> Even for your indelicate human nose.<</if>> A rich, cloudy, well-developed and wild musk of a female wolf. Blood rushes to your intimate parts in preparation for the fuck your cock thinks it's going to get. <<if $class is "wizard">>Unfortunately you don't possess the size to show a bulge. In just a second or two, your diminutive cock is up and throbbing, twitching at the silken undergarments you're wearing. You draw the scent in from the impromptu prostitute before you and clutch at her thighs, trying not to blow your load by the intake of wonderful musk alone. <</if>>With your hands on your thighs, you grope the thick parts of her, moving aside the loincloth as your hand feasts upon her deliciously pudgy legs. She is quite bottom-heavy, and although her fur is a bit dirty, you can't help but run your fingers through it as you look directly now at her pussy. You're out in public, kneeling on the cobblestones of the street, so there isn't much time to take it slow. You dive your face into her furry muff and do what you can. Licking, kissing, slobbering on her as you draw in her tangy, curiously desirable flavor. It is a rugged lick, and not just due to your inexperience, the wonderful salt of sweat and her fluids mix on your tongue and make your eyes roll back in delight. <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Stroke off while you eat her out.|smolapplestroke]] <<else>> [[Stroke off while you eat her out.|bigapplestroke]] <</if>> <</if>><<set $playerCoins -= 40>>\ <<if $class is "fighter">>\ You paid for her pussy, and you will take it. There is a bit of trepidation that rumbles in your chest. This is your first time. All those months, years, holding off and you end up blowing your first time with a prostitute? But then again, how could you decline such a bestial invitation? The wolf leans her back against the wall, spreads her legs, and moves aside her loincloth. You've seen them before, that delicious, wet, slavering hole between her legs. But not once have you felt one. Dozens of times your mates in the Yellow Stripes encouraged you to get a whore, and you declined them every time. Here you are, in the shade, finally overcome with lust enough for your burning need to win out. Morals, chastity, purity be damned. When you saw that peek of her snatch in the marketplace your body knew it needed to pump a load into this girl. She stays smiling, spreading herself a little with the hand not holding her loincloth aside. "Take poker out. Put in. Right?" You nod, your mouth going dry. With haste, you undo your belt and pants and, sidle up beside her legs. You've seen in alleys, and heard about, how this is done. How hard could it be? The heat, the warmth from her pussy when you bring your cock close to her, it's amazing. It isn't like how they say. It's magnetic, radiant, delicious. You hold onto her thigh and fuck forward, thrusting up and missing. And then again, trying to jam your stiff, eager human cock in. The wolfgirl yips at her asshole being prodded and grasps your shaft with a firm hand. "No." She holds it and slides herself down onto you. She has to tiptoe, so you move with her to help, bending your knees. Your lip trembles. That sensation, the warmth, it's unlike anything else—an all-encompassing, ecstatic feeling of pleasure. You're glad she's eager and experienced, you're not able to focus on anything but that feeling on your dick like it's a melting ice cube bathed in sunlight. Finally, you catch yourself and begin counter-thrusting, fucking her up against the wall. She growls and snarls beside your face, as you tuck yourself past her shoulder, clutching the wall and her hip with your hands for some points of contact. "Fine to empty in. No knot," she purrs, her choppy language suddenly making more sense now that you're in such pleasure. You hear your armor shift as you fuck her up against the wall. It feels splendid, fulfilling your cock's purpose like this, moving your entire body against and into her as you rut forward. The pleasure is so great you find your teeth gritting from it. You aren't sure how long or how short the experience is, but an orgasm comes. You can't do a damn thing to bite it back, moaning with a vigor that surprises yourself. You thrust, hump, and squirt your load into her. Your cock works overtime to empty your balls into its first pussy, savoring it. The pleasure is so great it's almost painful to keep thrusting, and when you're finally withdrawn you feel soaked. "Good." She says, and that's all, patting your cheek and leaving a bit of dirt on it. You nod and smile, feeling half drunk on the experience. Why did you wait so long to do that? You cover your sensitive parts again, staggering to a backfoot. "Bye," she says with irreverence, collecting her apples and loot and wandering off into the marketplace. <<if $virgin is true>> <<set $virgin = false>> <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "Apple">> <</if>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<else>>\ At long last you will rid yourself of that which led to much torment at the academy. Nevermore can someone point and call you a virgin, just as soon as you get into this girl! Your heart is beating like a war drum. There is a bit of trepidation, this is your first time. All those months, years, unable to get laid and you end up blowing your first time with a prostitute? But then again, how could you decline such a bestial invitation? The wolf leans her back against the wall, spreads her legs, and moves aside her loincloth. You've read about them before, that delicious, wet, slavering hole between her legs. But not once have you felt one. Thankfully your small stature is equivalent with hers. So, when she lays her back flat to the wall, you're at the perfect height. You hastily drop trou, pulling down your soft clothing and revealing your diminutive cock. Naturally, you're already hard and struggling forth from your sheathe, a small red rocket. She looks down at it with a puzzled stare. She spreads herself a little with the hand not holding her loincloth. "Are hard?" You nod your head, trying to ignore the sting of that comment and the rush of blood to your head. It feels fantastic just sniffing at her and being so close, but you need this to last. You desperately need this to last. Ravenously you thrust forward, mounting her the best that you can. With trembling hands you cup at her hips and hump forward, aiming with your slender dicklet for the promised lands. There it is! That spectacular warmth and wetness you lusted after for years. It's almost overbearingly hot, making you whimper as your erratic, desperate humps rock your hips forward. You squeeze your eyes shut closed, lost in the sensation. You hear a small, confused grumble from her lips, but don't know the cause. No, not this quickly! The tingling feeling of an edge rides up the nerves of your cock like an electric charge. You feel your boyishly small balls clench up tight, you are right on the verge of blowing your load. Something isn't right, you feel like you're just slipping and rubbing your cock at her. Or, she is incredibly loose. Biting your lip and panicking about that fact isn't helping, and what she says finally sets you over the edge. "Is in? Or?" Her tone carries with it authentic confusion, and just as you realize what's happened you begin spurting your load against her wet, slick labia. You clutch eagerly to her hips, digging your claws into her fur, whimpering as you rub and grind your penis to her. You didn't make it in, you were just thrusting against her outside. If you slipped in, and how many times, you cannot be sure. It was nothing but a wet and tingly mess. <span style="color:pink;"><strong>Your undersized penis has prevented the loss of your virginity.</strong></span> [[Continue|tappahannockhub]] <</if>> You are not going to waste this chance to stroke one out. You pull free the cloth belt from your silken trousers and pull down them and the panties you're wearing. The inside of the fabric is already as sticky as her cunt with your urgency. You don't need more than three fingers for your accursedly small shaft, but never mind that! It is throbbing with such intensity you're about to faint. Though that may be because you're nuzzling your vulpine snout so far up her cooter you can't breathe anything but her musk. She gives a nice, hearty pat over your head and ears. Now that you're here, it's delicious to be kneeling before her and servicing her pussy. The memory of that twenty gold has entirely faded and in its place the desperation to not nut between her legs. You want your own masturbating to last, so you take it low and slow with your pumping. Damn, itty bitty thing. Sensitive and small. Your mind latches onto a bit of a depraved, submissive fantasy. It is more than enticing that you're supping yourself at her nethers while handhumping instead of just fucking her and losing your virginity. You could have, but you chose instead to kneel before her. <<genericw>>"S'good," she growls.<</genericw>> Now she begins to rock her hips forward on your snout a bit, using it to apply pressure to her cunt. Your long, somewhat thin tongue eagerly licks what it can. You suckle at her clit a moment, as if it were a miniature cock, and she whines like a horse. One of her footpaws kicks back against the wall she's braced to stifle her sounds of pleasure. <<genericw>>"Small fox with small thing. Heh. Can not even reach past the lips if even paid for hump."<</genericw>> She snickers, there isn't too much malice to her voice but those demeaning words cut to your core. And deeply arouse your masochistic side. The mere fact you're bringing her such great joy makes you tremble and moan, and despite trying to stop it, your orgasm comes. Your dicklet eagerly fires off its load, presuming its having a chance to finally breed something. You squirt your well earned, shuddering orgasm on the weeds and cobblestones by her paws, moaning up into her pussy. She needs a while longer, but you can hardly complain, content to bury your face into her sweet spot while she growls and grunts like a wildebeest. After a few moments of musky, tangy heaven, she orgasms. The splattering of mostly clear female excitement across your tongue and face is a welcome surprise that has you squinting your eyes and running your tongue around your lips a few times. You stuff your cock back into your panties, already softening up in your sheathe. It's quite sticky there now. So is your face, matted and slick with this wolfgirl's honey. <<genericw>>"Bye," she says with irreverence, collecting her apples and loot and wandering off into the marketplace.<</genericw>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] You are not going to waste this chance to stroke one out. You unclip your belt and shimmy down out of your trousers. The armor gets in the way a bit, but public encounters often are impromptu in this way. You're already hard and excited by the time you get your hand around your cock. While letting your tongue explore her labia and savor her tang, you stroke yourself off in long and hard takes. Getting to experience eating a wolfgirl out while jerking off is almost surreal. There is a vague notion of maintaining some humility, some cover, while in public. However, you can't stop what you're doing at all to consider those things. Your left hand cups up and down her thigh and around to her butt. You rub and grope at her rear, careful not to scuff your hand on the wall behind her. It's a bit hard to keep up with molesting this sweaty wolfgirl, eating her pussy, and jerking off. She begins thrusting forward, humping against your face and nose, rubbing her pussy and up and down you. <<genericw>>"Hnn, scent mark for next buying. So can find nice and easy. Bring more gold," she growls down at you, her breath accelerating along with her efforts. <</genericw>> Feeling her become such an active participant fuels your efforts, brushing your tongue against her sensitive folds with all you can manage. Your jaw and tongue begin to tire from the effort, and the pumping with your hand becomes more vigorous. You try to pace yourself along with her pleasure, slowing if you get too close. There is an ebb and flow, a back and forth, until you feel and hear her begin to edge. Her breathing becomes labored grunting and the erratic thrusting of her hips begins to bump so hard to your nose as to discomfort you. Her musky fur is driven up your nostrils as she holds your head close and deep, expecting you to keep up your tongue work. You abide by it and she mumbles something that hits just the right way. <<genericw>>"Hnn, s-scent man thing, cunt-licker, good for husband."<</genericw>> The fantasy of being this wolfgirl's toy, temporarily or as a husband, activates something special for your cock. The wonderful scent of her pheromones, the taste of her pussy, and the motion of your hand bring you to a climax a few seconds after she coats your face in her orgasm. The splattering of mostly clear female excitement across your tongue and face is a welcome surprise that has you squinting your eyes and running your tongue around your lips a few times. After pumping out a full, wonderful orgasm, you cover your sensitive parts again. You begin to stand from your kneeling spot, rising above her. <<genericw>>"Bye," she says with irreverence, collecting her apples and loot and wandering off into the marketplace.<</genericw>> [[Contiue.|tappahannockhub]] You cannot fully stop yourself, but you are not enjoying this. Your nose crinkles at the scent, exhaling to push it out. But, it only grows stronger when he pushes his entire footpaw against your nose and face. Tentatively you kiss and lick at the bottoms, not pressing too deeply against it, drawing your neck back as much as your body and his pushing would allow. The rough texture grits against your tongue as you slowly drag heel to ball. The taste is earthy, which reminds you of times you've fallen face first to the ground. Your eyes go blurry from the concentrated effort of resisting, just as your nose is caught between his toes and you're forced to make out with his lowest point. There is a twinge of embarrassment, anger, revulsion, and confusion in your chest. The swirling emotions do little to help dredge you up from the mire of hypnosis. <<set $blackmail = true>>\ [[Continue.|baratier1c]] This may have been forced upon you, but you will not waste this opportunity. With gusto you bury your snout to his pawpads, sniffing and huffing the earthy, musky scent. You want to inundate yourself entirely with his smell, and give into it. A simple bit of kissing wouldn't do. You tenderly hold the sides of his left paw. It's heavy, or, you're weakened. Regardless, you hold it steady and deeply kiss the pawpads of his lowest point. After a series of worshiping pecks, you apply a lick, running your tongue across the surface with lusty intent. You feel your eyes bat rapidly as something stirs between your legs. <<bara>>"Good, good boy."<</bara>> He slides his right paw between your legs, patting there are your groin and rubbing down with the soft sole. You can't help but buck upward slightly, the breath catching in your throat in hitches as you give yourself over to this domineering lizard. You slip your tongue from your lips and intimately treat his paw while he rewards you for your good service. The softness of your mind, and how easy it was for him to dominate you, begins to really set in. Giving yourself over yields pleasure, clearly, in the form of being allowed to pleasure him. His right footpaw rubs itself on the shaft of your cock, using your thigh to help things along as he stimulates you. Meanwhile, you continue to show your obedience by debasing yourself with his left footpaw. You grow more ragged in your breathing, and as your own pleasure begins to mount just from his slow-moving rubbing, you think and desperately want to unload, even if it is just shooting into your own underwear. However, just before you empty your nuts, he pulls back both his legs and tells you to stand again. You woozily, begrudgingly do it. By the time you're up and breathing fresh air, you're already wishing for another taste. But, did you want that? Or did he make you want that? <<set $blackmail = true>>\ [[Continue.|baratier1c]] <<if $clarissaStage <= 1>> Keeping to herself in the shade, was an equine, scanning the market left and right. She had a chipper expression to her. The long, whitish grey of her muzzle appeared darker than it really was with the partial shade of the awning. A streak of untampered white marked her nose bridge in a rhombus shape a thicker top and rounded sides, forming an elongated patch. Though her black mane was a solid, silky color, and her face and neck are dull grey, you can see the piebald colors of brown and white peek up from the neck of her tunic. She is dressed in light garments with some minor bits of armor. Boiled, hardened leather worked into a cuirass hugs her impressive breasts, tightening under them to her abdomen. Similarly, her trousers are padded with thickened wool and leather. One of her shins is guarded by a metal slat, fitted to her calf and leaving her hoof exposed. Her right wrist is wrapped and reinforced by a glove and gauntlet, but her left is bare - her sleeve rolled up to the elbow. In general, she has a bit of makeshift, asymmetrical adornments about her. Between her legs swishes a long, black tail. It's banded tight to her back, stiffly bound to give it a swooped hang over her firm rear. Her butt's proportions are amply revealed by her clothing, the fabric wrinkling around her cheeks with how tightly it snugs her ass. A messenger bag is slung over her shoulder, and her appearance comes together. She is a courier, of course. Tappahannock's countryside is somewhat safe, but a bit of armor could have saved her life in the past. Likewise, it's lightweight enough to not bog her down too much. <<courier>>She smiles, and approaches you. She keeps out of the sun, and beckons you to join her. "Hey there!"<</courier>> You greet her with a wave and accept her invitation, a bit of curiosity pulling you forward. Something inside you warns you that you're about to be sold something or offered her services. <<courier>>Instead, she says, "I'm new here, are you?"<</courier>> You tell her you're quite green as well. <<courier>>Her large, brown doe-eyes give you a good look over. "Are you a $class?"<</courier>> You are indeed, though it's not too much of a secret. <<courier>>"Wow, that's awesome. I run letters. I used to do it for my hometown but," she cuts herself off and her face gets exceptionally glum. Her long eyelashes squeeze shut and she flares her nostrils before continuing.<</courier>> <<courier>>"I've just got back from my first job! Got paid a nice sum to run some packages from Lytria here, and a few letters back. I just got back-- like, back back again. And got paid. It went great! Even got a tip."<</courier>> The excitement is practically bursting from her. New and likely lacking in friends, you understand why she might be willing to just spill it out to you. And, you don't really know anyone either. [[Didn't ask, do not care.|tappahannockhub]] [[Tell her a little bit about why you're here, and offer your name.|talkie]] <<else>> As you peruse peruse the market square, you encounter a large wolfess arguing over a map with a far shorter human man. The wolfess' hands are wrapped tight in bandages, but not a hint of blood. You realize quickly that they're for brawling rather than wound mending. The upstart man she's bombarding with growls treats her with all the seriousness of a dog he's playing tug-of-war with. Playing with fire, that one is. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <</if>> You speak for a moment about why you're here.<<if $class is "fighter">> You tell her you're looking for more work as a freelance mercenary. Perhaps a smaller outfit. You neglect to tell her you were with the Yellow Stripes, not knowing her opinion of them.<<else>> You inform her that you intend to plunder the grand mysteries of the arcane and this city is a good place to start.<</if>> Finally, you give her your name. She listens and nods, extending a hand to shake yours. "Pleasure to meet you, $name. I am Clarissa." She grips your forearm, a deep and firm handshake that goes beyond the palm. A shake they use in the northern Imperial territories. It throws you off guard but you cup her forearm and shake back. Satisfied, she lets go. <<courier>>"Think you'll need to send many letters in your line of work?"<</courier>> You aren't so sure about that, but you will probably be traveling a lot. <<courier>>"I could tell you a safer route than the main road to Lytria. Things are heating up a little bit around those parts. And, their main road east isn't well patrolled."<</courier>> You nod, that would be a useful tip. She seems more than happy to tell you. She describes a few shortcuts and pathways to take if you ever travel east that will keep you safe, away from the action, and not sacrifice too much travel time. You wonder how she came to learn that path. <<courier>>"Pure pathfinding, baby. Momma didn't give me these hooves to just have them clap against city cobbles." She double-taps the stones to signal, a nice soft clip-clap ringing out. " I try to scout out the paths I intend to travel before I start working an area. All about speed."<</courier>> You notice, as she describes her process a little, she talks fast. She likely runs fast as well. Horses are quick on their hooves after all. <<courier>>She gives your bicep a little slap and sighs. "Happy to have met you, $name, but I gotta hit the bricks. Have to get my stretches and a bit of jogging in. Might get me a massage from one of the people around here or something."<</courier>> She trots off a few paces, turning her head over her shoulder to look back at you. Her cute, pointed little ears twitch. <<courier>>"Don't wanna get a Charley Horse or anything!"<</courier>> She laughs in a way that sounds more like a whinny and takes off into the crowd. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $clarissa = true>> <<set $clarissaStage = 2>> She grabs your hand and eagerly takes you to an alley, the thin crevice between buildings offers a modicum of shade from the sun, and more privacy than nearly dead center in the market. There, your only concealment was the crowd. Here, the muffled sounds of people, and the shifting shadows of them crossing in front of the alley are less pressing. She grunts and tilts her head at you, setting down her apples and holding out her hand. The money, right... <<if $playerCoins <40>> You don't have the coinage. You fish around in your purse for the required amount. The privilege of licking her cunt isn't cheap you know. But the coins just aren't there, you've got $playerCoins but that's not enough. She gives you an annoyed look, you guess she can read the poverty on your face. <<genericw>>"No coin?" She snarls, drooling a little from a lip. "Why waste time? No pussy for $class."<</genericw>> She grabs her apple basket again and carries off, her plush butt wobbling behind her. Would have been good to grope that. Next time, perhaps. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<else>> <<genericw>>"We start," She hisses with lewd excitement, collecting her payment.<</genericw>> [[Continue.|fuckapple]] <</if>> You buy Helarui's pre-packaged ingredients. <<set $playerCoins -= 5>>\ <<set $hasHerbs to true>>\<<bara>>"So, back for work, is that right?"<</bara>> As the lizardkin looks you over you feel your heart rate slow to a comforting and relaxed tempo, and the background noise of the tavern ebbs away. Baratier's inviting aura compels you to relax in a way you don't quite understand. But what harm could it be? Some just have personalities like that, even if you're 'in' on it. He invites you to sit across from him and leans forward, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile that flashes the tips of his teeth before they disappear again. His golden eyes flash with intensity at something behind you but quickly return to focus on you. <<if $class is "fighter">> You notice the man a table to your right is guarding Baratier. You've seen enough to recognize someone on alert. An Orc in heavy plate, looking a bit uncomfortable in his seat, tries to act as natural as possible. He's definitely some muscle.<</if>> <<bara>>"I've got something incredibly straightforward. Even a stable boy could handle it. It's below your capabilities, without a doubt, but we all have to start somewhere, right?"<</bara>> He smiles, and when you ask him for more detail, he places his hand flat to the table and splays it. It's large, and each finger is tipped with black talons - not to mention the many rings laced on each digit. <<bara>>"I just need you to collect a dead drop from an alley off Bottlesip Way, it's in the pleasure district. Do you know the brothel, the High Tail?"<</bara>> You're not acquainted, though it's not surprising considering Tappahannock's permissive policies. <<bara>>"Lucrative business, that. I should really crack into it. Regardless..."<</bara>> He waves his hand, picking up his goblet and draining a small sip from it. <<bara>>"The package will be concealed behind a loose brick in the wall of an abandoned house – red-tiled roof, shattered windows. It's quite distinct Facing front, it'll be on the wall that's your left. Got it?"<</bara>> You nod. All of that is easy to handle. The issue is why he needs someone armed and dangerous to collect a hidden package. His expression speaks to a glimmer of contentment at your curiosity and inquisitiveness. <<bara>>"The individuals I'm conducting business with, and collecting payment from, are unfamiliar to me. I need to ensure there's no trickery – whether from them directly or leaks in their operation."<</bara>> He doesn't offer anything else, and there doesn't seem to be much more to ask. He does continue after a short pause and appraisal of your person. <<bara>>"Do you need directions around the city, to find this place?"<</bara>> You think you have an idea, but it never hurts to get some guidance. Baratier delicately explains a quick and efficient path to the portion of Tappahannock that is commonly referred to as the pleasure district, and to Bottlesip Way. He makes joking mention of not getting lost in the High Tail, and urges you to return with his package promptly. <<if $gaveBJ is true>> Something about the way he mentions handling his package has some innuendo to it, as if you've done it before. You think you'd remember if you were grabbing at a lizardkin's meat though. <</if>> With a final stretch of his wings and a rolling of his shoulders, he politely shoos you off. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $baratierStage = 3>> <<set $bottleOpen = true>> Baratier perks his eyes up, quickly quaffing down a sip of something and setting his drink aside with a clink. <<bara>>"Have you got it?"<</bara>> <<if $hasDeadd is false>> <<linkreplace "No, not yet.">>\ <<include "nodeaddrop">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <<else>>\ You do in fact have it. You present him the package you retrieved from where you stowed it. He looks the item over and then to you, his claws rapping at the parchment. <<bara>>"Did you encounter any strife?"<</bara>> You did indeed. You describe to him the problem, and how you handled it. He lets you speak and appears satisfied with how you handled it. <<bara>>"That's a good <<if $class is "wizard">>boy<<else>>man<</if>>. Here is your cut."<</bara>> He hands you off a small pouch of gold. His look tells you not to count it in public. By its feel alone you assume it's a good amount, no less than thirty gold. A good pay out for a relative milk run. <<set $playerCoins += 35>>\ <<set $hasDeadd to false>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $baratierStage = 4>> <</if>><<bara>>"Then what the fuck are you doing here? Go get it," he waves you away to dismiss you.<</bara>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] Bottlesip Way, nestled by the eastern wall of the city, is a tangle of narrow alleyways and crooked streets, all converging into a maze of debauchery and indulgence. The air hangs heavy with the mingling scents of cheap perfume, spilled liquor, and the distant aroma of sizzling street food. Dilapidated buildings with faded facades lean precariously over the cobblestone pathways, their timeworn walls bearing the weight of countless secrets. Sultry laughter and low murmurs of patrons seep from open doorways, beckoning passersby into the enticing abyss. Glimpses of scantily clad figures peer out from behind half-closed curtains, their eyes heavy-lidded and expressions promising a world of forbidden desires. Street performers, their costumes garish and their routines provocative, vie for attention amidst the labyrinthine alleys. The streets themselves are a collage of spilled wine and discarded playing cards, their corners lit by the glow of dice games and the click of gambling tokens. Vendors peddle trinkets of dubious origin, while the occasional beggar huddles in the shadows, resigned to the vice-ridden reality of Bottlesip Way. The districts constant call to lower your guard and relax does nothing but heighten your anxiety. But maybe you should cut loose a bit... [[Return to the city's center.|tappahannockhub]] [[Visit the High Tail brothel.|hitail]] <<if $baratierStage is 3>>\ [[Search for the dead drop.|ddHouse]] <</if>>\ <<if $bunnyStage is 0>> [[Examine the suspiciously lewd bunny woman.|lekomeet]] <</if>> Following Baratier's directions, you navigate through Bottlesip Way to the abandoned home. As you draw near, the sight of two ruffians catches your attention. One taller, and one shorter. You believe them to be two humans at first but upon closer look they reveal themselves to be a male human of some median height, and an accompanying male pitbull. The short and snobbish canine has an ugly expression, wrinkled and brutish. He looks around but by the speed of his head's swiveling, it's clear he isn't a competent lookout. His human friend is likewise unfortunate in the appearance department, grimy and ragged. Both are dressed in simple clothes of unassuming appearance. You look to see if they are equipped with any weapons.<<if $class is "fighter">> Your experience informs you that both are armed with concealed short blades.<<else>> You aren't sure.<</if>> He and his human companion are rifling and feeling around the left wall. Right where Baratier's package should be. However, they begin to loop back around to the front. So, they know the item is here but not where specifically. You give a quick assessment of yourself and consider your options. <<if $class is "fighter">> [[Be brazen. Draw your blade and disperse them with violence.|knb3f]] [[Try your hand at sneaking past them.|knb3s]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Use your arcane might to dispatch them.|wzb3f]] [[Use your small size to sneak past them.|wzb3s]] <</if>> You march toward the pair, not concealing your movements but not drawing attention to yourself either. A quick look up and down the street reveals few witnesses who would care. Certainly, no watchmen that would apprehend you. With the subtlest of scrapes, your blade emerges from its well-oiled sheath, a sound barely louder than a secret. But that's all it takes – the pitbull's ear twitches and he pivots immediately at the sound. A shocked expression falls over his face and he bumbles for his blade, barking a call to his companion to rouse his mate's attention. The pitbull lunges forward at you, his posture and stance betraying his lack of any experience beyond alley brawling. Your martial experience kicks in. Hours of drilling, and years of direct combat experience guide your hand to bring hell to these two. With a deft and precise movement, you parry the pitbull's clumsy blow and rend his forearm from his body at the elbow. The barking cry of pain shocks his human companion, who staggers back. You merely need to jolt at him to make him scream and run down the lane. The pitbull bitterly bites his own lip, fighting off the pain and impotent rage of having been maimed. You've seen the look he casts you before, on the battlefield. The look of someone who knows he can't do a damn thing, who knows his entire life has been irreparably changed by a single blow. He doesn't throw away his life in some pitiful attempt to bite or charge at you, instead staggering off after his friend, dazed and confused. Cleaning your blade of blood, you quickly scan the street once more. Attracting a few lingering glances from the scuffle, your composure stays unwavering. You collect the package easily - the loosened brick is placed early along the wall. It's a small parcel wrapped in parchment and tied with string. Inside the jostle of something metallic. Your immediate thought is gold, coins, but there is definitely something else in there. [[Continue.|tavern]] <<set $hasDeadd = true>> You flip through your tome of the arcane, quickly seeking an appropriate and concise spell for this encounter. Holding the incantation in your mind, it's time to sally forth. Your pawpads give you a modicum of stealth, granting you an advantage on opening the fight. When you're within range you let it loose. From your lips rolls a sharp, cutting truth of the world. Magic made manifest! A glittering blue sigil forms behind your head, and the tingle of magical missiles flicking by your head tickles your ears. Before they even realize what's going on, the pitbull's torso and head have several small holes burnt right through them. He collapses to the floor in a pile. Dead before he hit the ground. His human companion gets off easier, retching at the puncture to his chest. He can barely stand let alone retaliate. He gags, grasping at his chest and staggering off. You wonder if he will succumb to his wounds before he makes it home. The adrenaline is pumping in your veins though, in a blurred panic you beat around the left wall for the package, missing it on your first glance. You realize with a moment of self-focused anger, that you didn't take a look out for guards or witnesses. So potent was your rush to exercise your arcane abilities. Finally, you find Baratier's dead drop. You stuff it into your robes and dash off from the scene of the crime. Your ears burn with the imagined and real staring of many witnesses. It's a small parcel wrapped in parchment and tied with string. Inside the jostle of something metallic. Your immediate thought is gold, coins, but there is definitely something else in there. [[Continue.|tavern]] <<set $hasDeadd = true>> You let the duo get some ground away from you, and loop around to approach the dead drop subtly. Unfortunately, being adorned in armor and generally not having a penchant for quiet movement means you're found out fairly quick. As you're exploring the wall, both of the men come around the corner and call out to you angrily. Just in time, you slide your hand on a loose brick, peeling it free and finding the small, parchment-wrapped package. <<generic>>"Get yer hands off that, you grub," the pit growls, barking to accent his aggression.<</generic>> In response, you toss the brick at his face and dash down the alley in the opposite direction. You stifle a chuckle at the wet sound of it smashing into his nose, and the groan of pain. The sound of boots and paws hot on your heels keeps you focused and charging forward. No matter, you've done sprints in your kit before. Maintaining a decent speed for a time wouldn't be too difficult. A splash of muddy water rides up your leg as you boot down into a pothole, barely stabilizing yourself from landing nose first to the cobbles. It slows you significantly, and as you skitter to a narrowing of the alley, you've got a choice. [[Keep running!|knb3sa]] [[Stand and fight.|knb3sb]] Your small frame and pawpads make the decision to sneak a cinch. The two dunderheads are kicking broken bits of board and grumbling about something while you sneak past them toward the deaddrop. Quitely and carefully, you search out the package and grab it. It's a small parcel wrapped in parchment and tied with string. Inside the jostle of something metallic. Your immediate thought is gold, coins, but there is definitely something else in there. Silent as a church mouse, you are, as you slink back to the tavern. A feeling of pride at having pulled one over on the two goons you encountered. [[Continue.|tavern]] <<set $hasDeadd = true>> There isn't any point in tangling with them and shedding blood. Drawing the attention of the guards with a brawl or a dead body won't do you or your employer any good. With a few good, deep breaths you regain your stamina and hit the bricks once more. The two chasing you aren't in the best of shape clearly, with a few smart twists and turns you're able to evade them. Purely on conditioning and fortitude do you elude your pursuers, they likely never had to chase anyone fit. Persisting on a diet of beer and prostitute snatch isn't helping their distance running, either. In time, the two scallywags are out of sight and out of mind. You give a few more loops to really shake them before returning. [[Continue.|tavern]] <<set $hasDeadd = true>> It is pointless to delay this bloodshed. If anything, dispatching them in an alley will mean no witnesses. You stow the package and quickly draw your longsword. There is only the slightest scratching sound of you drawing your blade, the sheathe it rested in being well-oiled. A determined expression falls over the pit's face and he bumbles for his blade, barking a call to his companion to rouse his mate to action. The pitbull lunges forward at you, his posture and stance betraying his lack of any experience beyond alley brawling. Your martial experience kicks in. Hours of drilling and years of direct combat experience guide your hand to bring hell to these two. In a quick, sound swipe you parry the pitbull's clumsy blow and rend his forearm from his body at the elbow. The barking, cry of pain shocks his human companion, who staggers back. You merely need to jolt at him to make him scream and run down the lane. The pitbull bitterly bites his own lip, fighting off the pain and anger, the impotent rage of having been maimed. You've seen the look he casts you before, on the battlefield. The look of someone who knows he can't do a damn thing, who knows his entire life has been irreparably changed by a single blow. You decide to put him out of his miserable future of panhandling and save him the trouble of learning life with his left hand by running his guts through with your sword. He gasps, the air thrust from his lungs. You shove the pitbull off your blade, turning to watch his cowardly companion disappear around a corner. You wipe clean the blood from your blade, being in such a concealed lane, no one saw the action. The package is safe, you determine, with a pat on your chest. [[Continue.|tavern]] <<set $hasDeadd = true>><<bara>>"More work if you're ready."<</bara>> Baratier turns to you as you approach, having drawn his gaze away from the orc he is speaking to.<<if $class is "fighter">> The same orc you pegged as a guard. Seems your suspicions were right.<<else>> You blink a few times at the orc, suddenly recalling vaguely noticing him lurking around Baratier. You suppose he's a coworker now, some bodyguard for the lizardkin.<</if>> Baratier stands and flexes his wings, still having to keep them close due to the walls of the corner he occupies. It occurs to you his wings are quite a bit larger than what few lizardkin you've seen with them.<<if $class is "wizard">> You've done some very perfunctory research into lizardkin subraces while at the academy for some of your experiments. In fact, Baratier being able to move them with such ambulation is highly unusual. Not to mention their size and health are far in advance of any of the runty, vestigial drapes other winged lizardkin have. It rouses your curiosity. Perhaps a trip to the library for some research is in order.<</if>> <<bara>>"Familiar with the High Tail? It's a whorehouse in Bottlesip Way owned by a woman, Ji Stillblossom. All I need you to do is collect a report from one of the girls. Buy some time with a serval named Athani. She's one of ours."<</bara>> You confirm the details, and he presents you with some coinage for the time, placing a small pouch on the table. It sags slightly after his clawed digits release the leather. You collect it and add the money to your own, counting it out as you do. Twenty, not bad. You return his bag. He nabs it, rubbing the material between his fingers. <<bara>>"Just like your previous job, you're picking up some information from her. Feel free to make use of the time you're paying for as well." Baratier gives you a laugh, "I'm sure she won't mind. I've informed her you'll arrive soon."<</bara>> Having your new orders, you stand, and he adds one final detail. <<bara>>"And for heaven's sake don't blab about your task."<</bara>> The orc beside him gives you a squinting look. He doesn't look like he thinks highly of you. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $playerCoins +=20>> <<set $baratierStage to 5>><<if $beccavisit is false>>\ You carry on past the western gates to some of the settled, arable land of Tappahannock. The farmsteads are kept close and near to the city's walls and defended feverishly. Bandits don't waste their time trying to raid the places, and in exchange, the enforcement of Tappahannock damn near submit the rest of the countryside to them. In addition to providing them with the stability of an internal food source, it also allows them a bit of an edge in trade, especially with their less fertile neighbors. The farms are private, but you find yourself drawn to them. A few little ideas flick through your head. Pure curiosity is one, but so too interest in acquiring a horse, perhaps some work. And so, being quite obvious, you approach up the dirt road to the farmstead itself. Flanked on either side are plenty of grazing farmyard animals. Penned sheep loop around a wide patch of greenery, herded by an excited retriever boy. His golden fur shimmers in the sunlight, and his long and fluffy tail flaps happily. You'd stop to talk to him if he wasn't so preoccupied with hounding his charge. With that avenue of discovery gone, you're left with knocking on the front door and hoping for the best. And after a rap of your knuckles, the best does indeed come. Better than you could have expected. A cow of <<if $class is "wizard">> ginormous<<else>>significant<</if>> height greets you at the opening of the door. A pair of smallish, curled horns sit atop her head, tilting down to face you. <<becca>>"Well, I'll be! Ain't you a cute <<if $class is "wizard">> lil fox?<<else>>human?<</if>>"<</becca>> Her whitish hide is broken up by black splotches here and there, and as expected of her kind, her bovine jugs are massive. They sag against the shirt she wears, straining the poor tunic. The cow has to lean forward to peer over them at you given their size. Her sides tuck in only a bit, her tummy is heavy with comfortable living, supported by thick legs held close in leather pants, the flaps of which loosely held by open string ties. <<becca>>"Now how can I help you?"<</becca>> You tell her you don't need anything in particular, that you were just exploring. When her eyebrows rise and her pleased expression changes to one of uncertain curiosity, you elaborate that you are looking for work. Vaguely. And a horse. Perhaps. <<becca>>"Well, we ain't got horses, that's the Brackenbacks down the road who breed horses. Just dairy, and wool here."<</becca>> The smirk that creases her lips when she says milk makes you think. You can't stop yourself from taking a quick peek at the tits nearly blocking your view of her face. If she notices, she doesn't let on. <<if $class is "fighter">> <<becca>>"Not so sure if I'm inclined to let an armed and armored stranger into my house."<</becca>> She looks you over, folding her arms under her chest. <<becca>>"Even if I know I could pick you up and throw you like a horseshoe." You doubt that, but her confidence makes your certainty waver for a moment.<</becca>> You gently explain you don't have any interest in harming her, and would be more than happy to leave your weapon at the door when proceeding inside. <<becca>>"I'd appreciate that. You've got my hospitality as long as you want if that blade stays by the entryway. Don't often get such cute gentleman callers nowadays."<</becca>> The purr she offers at the end of her words makes the hairs on your neck stand up. <<becca>>"What's your name?"<</becca>> <<else>> <<becca>>"I'd be hard-pressed to decline a visit from such a cute little fox such as yourself. Let me take your hat and cloak, dear. What's your name?"<</becca>> <</if>> <<becca>>You tell her, and she nods, "I am Becca. And if you caught the rambunctious retriever in the fields, that's Herrold."<</becca>> You had in fact met Herrold. <<becca>>"He's quite nice, damn ol' shame he got kicked in the head by a horse a few summers back. Ain't been the same since."<</becca>> Becca offers you a seat in her drawing room and asks if you want some milk. Refusal seems untoward, so you politely accept. The interior of her home is quite cozy. Large, wide windows offer plenty of natural light from the outside. The furnishings and decor are well-worn but clearly well-loved. Soft, once-expensive quilts and covers drape a few things to provide them some extra padding. The table she offers you to sit at has high-backed wooden chairs, fitting more for someone of your size than hers. For a moment you wonder if she will stand. <<becca>>"You seem fit enough, asked after work? Could always use a nice lad to carry things around. I might look tough but, I tucker out. I do my best work on my back."<</becca>> Huh? You don't really have a chance to follow up, as she dips away to her larder, returning a moment later with a tall and thin glass of milk. You're a little surprised to find it quite chilled. <<becca>>"Bit of magic! It's a little faulty nowadays though, we had a whole ton of jugs spoil when the enchantment couldn't hold out through a little heat wave," her voice and frown tell you that it wasn't a minor loss.<</becca>> She asks after your business and you tell her a little about why you're here and how you came to visit her farm. <<becca>>"Good thing you stopped at mine and not any down the road. Not all the farmers out here are so welcoming to guests."<</becca>> She sits and her tits bounce slightly, the wooden chair creaking under her heft. You eye your milk. She eyes you eyeing your milk. You can't help but wonder if this is her milk, and she must be able to read your mind on your expression. When you look back at her, an absolutely devious smile is hooking at the corners of her lips. You nod, and deciding you don't want to be rude, sip at the milk. It's sweet, and a bit thick. Far sweeter than normal milk. It reminds you of condensed milk rather than just cow's milk. However, thinner than that, reaching a middle ground. It's scrumptious enough that you find yourself throwing back another sip before setting it back down, and blinking. You give her a weak smile back. You know. She knows. She knows you know. You know that she knows that you know. <<becca>>"Well?"<</becca>> It's undeniably delicious. Perfectly balanced between decadent and sweet without verging into saccharine. <<becca>>"It's better warm. And from the source."<</becca>> <<becca>>You gawk at her chest, which makes her laugh, a slight moo. "Why don't we set you up with some work, and see about rewards for you later?"<</becca>> You nod. Coin, or more milk, either would be good. You down another glug of the divine ambrosia as she explains what she needs help with around the farm. [[Continue.|beccafarms]] <<else>> Once more you bring yourself to Becca's farm. She greets your warmly. It's hard not to notice her excited nipples bulging the soft fabric of her tunic. She invites you in for a drink and asks if you wanted more work. [[Continue.|beccafarms]] <</if>> The road to Lytria is but a short jaunt once outside of the Tappahannock's eastern gate. Few travelers are on the road, coming or going, and you have some solitude to enjoy the silence of nature. [[Take the main road to Lytria.|lyborder]] <<if $clarissa is true>> [[Take Clarissa's route to Lytria.|clareroute]] <</if>> You decide to follow Clarissa's advice for traversing into Lytria. Once out of the city's limits, you take to the main roads. Eventually, you diverge and do as she told you. Just as promised, her route allows you to evade guard postings, tolls, and other travelers. The directions she gave take you to a border passage over a forgotten, poorly maintained wooden bridge. The environment of Lytria is similar to the Tappahannock countryside. Where there are more deciduous trees on the Tappahannock side, Lytria is home to more coniferous trees. Curiously, the dilapidated wooden bridge is nearly split down the middle with wet leaves stuck to it on the west, and pine needles on the east. <<if $class is "fighter">>\ Lytria could have mercenary work for you, but you've not been one to trust boars. Savage, violent, ugly. Their cavalry is deadly on the battlefield. And you don't want to think about how many friends you've lost under their hooves. <</if>>\ Even with the tip-off from Clarissa, you keep your head on a swivel. Trouble is brewing here, and you don't want to be caught off guard. The boars are known to be quite legalistic. Even if you may travel freely in their borders from Tappahannock, getting shaken down or harrassed is still possible. Once past the bridge, you are officially in Lytria. The hoof-beaten dirt path leads up a slight slope to a hillock of coarse, needle-strewn undergrowth. <<if $firstPassage is false>> <<if $class is "fighter">> [[Continue.|boarbaron1]] <<else>> [[Continue.|forlorn1]] <</if>> <<set $clarissaStage to 3>> <<else>> [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <</if>> The border between Lytria and Tappahannock was heavily militarized. Tappahannock kept up appearances only, with a light garrison and some perfunctory bulwarks. By comparison, the other side is a fortress. A pair of towers sit on the boar's side of the bridge that spans the river Kaylis. Arrow slits wince ominously at those who try to pass, and a set of heavily armored, spear-wielding guards harangue the passersby. When you approach, the inspector squints a beady, porky eye at you. He spits a murky wad of darkish brown, chewing on tobacco leaves wetly. The root of his tusks are stained with his foul habit. <<generic>>"Forty gold to pass through the gates. Unless ye've got a token of passage."<</generic>> [[Refuse payment.|tappahannockhub]] <<if $playerCoins >40>>\ <<linkreplace "Pay the fee.">> <<include "feepaid">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $class is "wizard">>\ [[Sneak by.|wizborderpass]] <</if>>\ <<if $boarToken is true>> [[Present the Baroness' mark, and pass for free.|skeelhowl]] <</if>> The highway of Lytria is poorly paved, its only saving graces being the pleasant scents of pine trees and a mostly straightforward path. <<if $firstPassage is false>>\ <<if $class is "fighter">> [[Continue.|boarbaron1]] <<else>>\ [[Continue.|forlorn1]] <</if>> <<else>> [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <</if>> The dirt path feeds to a paved road, matched on the north by a tall hill, and the south by a currently dry stream. Shoots of grass are trampled by your boot as you carry on, the stones of the road a bit disorderly and poorly repaired. No wonder, the Lytrian pigs aren't much for anything but violence and pridefulness. The enjoyable view of the road is suddenly interrupted once you notice the approach of a snort-snout and an attendant alongside them. It's hard to tell at a distance, due to their portly figure, but as they close in you realize it's a woman. And, alongside her, a ratling carrying bags on a sloped back. The boarwoman has a portly tummy and heavy, giant tits like a hag. She rides atop a horse that looks like it's struggling to bear her weight but has not the voice to complain. Her ratling attendant looks similarly displeased. A general look of desperation lies on his features as the lithe male hauls some of her baggage. Your teeth grind as you notice she's eyeing you down. All those memories of Lytrian cavalry charges come to mind. Perhaps coming here was a mistake, as even seeing one atop a horse is rousing your ire. The females have a reputation for being incredibly whorish - amusing, as among most races it is shameful to admit you'd laid with a sow. Most shudder at the thought even as a joke. You had heard of someone who'd indulged it. Another from the Yellow Stripes. He told a story of a great, thick sow's ass threatening to snap his pelvis with its eagerness. A happy trail of rich, tangled, dark hair that ran from his conquest's cunt to her belly button. Sweat. Hair. Squealing sounds. And a slot that felt loose and sloppy. <<if $virgin is "true">>\ Expending your first time in such a filthy way is unimaginable. You'd never let yourself succumb to lust with such a beastly sort. <</if>>\ The woman and her attendant halt along the road once they are close enough to speak to you. <<baron>>"You, there, take pause," the 'woman' - if she could be called that - says.<</baron>> Her voice is deep and husky. Her snout is faintly wet in a displeasing way, and long, chipped tusks jut from her grumpy muzzle. You do so, calling your greetings through tight lips. She narrows her eyes at this, tilting her head slightly and screwing up her features to show her analytical appraisal of you. <<baron>>"What is your heading? What is your business here, human?"<</baron>> The air falls still around you. You notice as she speaks just how drab and plain her clothing is. Her simple grey tunic looked even more ugly when set against her ruddy-brown and spotted fur. You hold your head up high, stiffen out your back, and keep a firm posture. [[Tell her, get this interrogation over with.|bbpass]] [[Insult her, she can't demand a thing from you.|bbduel]] While progressing along the road, the clouds darken. A thunderstorm begins to broil overhead and you realize with irritation and concern both that you're about to be soaked. Your silken robes will stick right to your thin frame and you'll look like a dunked cat if you don't find some cover. And the pine trees lining the road won't do. Your footpaw slips suddenly. Gah, that too. The stones of the paved road are in such disrepair you wonder if the rain will unsettle the earth they sit on into mud, and become even more treacherous. A dubious reprieve is granted to you when you happen upon a divergence in the road. A thinner dirt path branches from the road into the tree line. And, as you scope it out, the familiar smell of grave dirt assails your nose. A graveyard. Much like those around the academy, the ones in Lytria seem to favor short stone walls providing a stand for a wrought iron fence. Twisted, thorn-like tips give the fencing a foreboding aura. Old, tilted headstones jut out from the earth like misaligned teeth. And mausoleums here and there offer large and gloomy silhouettes to the place. You aren't unfamiliar with graveyards at all. In fact, there is a certain allure to them, a dark calling. The grimoire of necromancy you 'borrowed' from the academy almost thrums at your approach of the graves. A chill settles into you, your first thought is that it's the grimoire's doing. Foolish, of course, it's merely the drop in temperature at the coming of the rain. Right? With the sky darkening, you turn to give a glance back to the road and the decision is made for you as the first few droplets hit the stones. You draw your cloak up above your head as the initial rainfall pelts you, seeking out a nearby mausoleum for cover. Your nose tingles with the hint of petrichor. The earthy scent compels you to draw in the smell with intakes of breath. Deliciously sedating. The tapping of rain falling to the stones delights your ears, and as you slip under the awning of a large stone structure, you have safety to enjoy them from. The shoulders of your robe and cape got wet a bit, but you're counting your blessings you've gotten to a mausoleum just as it really begins pissing. It's almost impressive how hard and suddenly the air went from quiet and calm to dizzy with silver flashes of rainfall. You lean to the side of the tomb's threshold, watching for a moment and resting your paws. Thinking over recent events. You're pulled from your reminiscing quickly though, as the sound of boot falls to stone rouses you to caution. An undead, here? Or perhaps another traveler? From deeper in the tomb, skirting around the stone coffin in the center, a woman makes herself known. An incantation is already slipping past your lips when she tries to pacify you with words. <<yulha>>"I approach in peace, stranger," she says. Her voice is a croaking rasp, strained, and weakened. Her pale face, drained of healthy pallor, is half obscured by a hood and porcelain mask. <</yulha>> Her garments are of a silvery-white material. Embroidering and curious stitching patterns offer a trim to the well-worn, almost threadbare robes. They seem familiar, her clothing. Even in their age, they are quite luxurious, a herald of a well-accomplished tailor of old. You offer a few words of greeting, but hold in reservation. You know from experience those who trudge around cemeteries usually aren't all together. Yourself included. <<yulha>>She inquires after your name, and after getting it, introduces herself. "Yulha, of Elsteron. And one of the Forlorn."<</yulha>> <<linkreplace "Can you trust someone who is Undead?">>\ <<include "yulhameet">>\ <</linkreplace>> You cannot hope to hide your shock, a hand grasping at the stones behind you. The ice of fear begins to swell in the cracks of your chest. A Forlorn, here? Elsteron, a human kingdom overrun by undead. Cordoned by all the nations it's bordered by. A vile place of misery and broken trust. The intelligent corpses that now roam Elsteron refer to themselves as Forlorn. Your other hand clutches to your thigh in tension, your breath slowing. The subject of the Forlorn came up much in your personal research. Meeting one in person is odd. Dangerous, they are, but also extreme curiosities. Intelligent and willful undead, an extreme anomaly. <<yulha>>"I detect a curio on your person. Do you have an interest in necromancy, vixen?"<</yulha>> Firstly, you aren't a vixen and secondly... [[You do. Why does she ask?|freetalk]] [[None of her business.|stifftalk]] <<set $yulha = true>> <<set $seraStage = 99>> She stiffens at your posturing and aloofness. <<yulha>>"May I remind you it was you that stumbled into my tomb, not the other way around?"<</yulha>> She has you there. She tilts her head to the side in an examining manner. The grey light from outside glints on the porcelain of her face mask. <<yulha>>"Our kind is cagey and slow to trust by nature. So I cannot fault you too harshly."<</yulha>> Our kind? The Forlorn? <<yulha>>"No. Necromancers. That trinket on you, it radiates a foul energy. But I sense you're still a neophyte."<</yulha>> You try to halt yourself from clutching at the book in your rucksack, but you can't, giving away its location to her. <<yulha>>"Are you curious what can be learned? Do you wish to plunge into the unknown?"<</yulha>> She steps closer, further exposed by what little light is creeping in from the rainy exterior. You notice the hand at her hip is naught but taloned bone at the tips. [[Yes. Show me what you know.|forlornapprentice]] [[No. This pursuit is your own.|forlorndecline]] Her expression, what little of it you could see, exposes her confusion. <<yulha>>"You're a boy? Your small body isn't doing you any favors with your masculinity. Though the name, perhaps I should have known."<</yulha>> You exhale in exasperation at her demeaning comment. <<yulha>>"I ask as I am here to study and ply the dark art of necromancy."<</yulha>> You wonder why a Forlorn would bother with the trouble of escaping Elsteron to come to a graveyard in Lytria. <<yulha>>"If I told you, I'd have to kill and raise you," her rasping voice has humor to it. However, the threat is real, if the focused stare of her glassy eyes is any indication.<</yulha>> <<yulha>>"You look young, are you still a student?"<</yulha>> You open up that you were excised from your academy over some disagreements. This makes her chuckle a bit. <<yulha>>"Established mages often fear new and upcoming talent. Those with the will to pursue the depths of the arcane should be guided, and encouraged."<</yulha>> She has your attention, unwittingly you turn your body toward her. A kindred spirit? <<yulha>>"Are you curious about what can be learned? Do you wish to plunge into the unknown?"<</yulha>> She steps closer, further exposed by what little light is creeping in from the rainy exterior. You notice the hand at her hip is naught but taloned bone at the tips. [[Yes. Show me what you know.|forlornapprentice]] [[No. This pursuit is your own.|forlorndecline]]<<yulha>>"I am ill prepared to teach you at the moment. Go to Skeelhowl, the capital of Lytria, and ask around for Yulha. I will find you there."<</yulha>> She disappears back down into the gloom of the mausoleum and leaves you to ponder the chance encounter until the rain passes. Though you look often to the stairs you now see she rose from, you dare not follow her into the crypt. [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $yulhaStage to 1>> <<set $firstPassage to true>> You chose your own way. You didn't escape the academy to fall under the yoke of some cold body in a backwater grave. She scoffs at your decline, her fingertips twitching with a smoky aura playing around her digits. You tense, bracing yourself to cast a ward in response. <<yulha>>"That is your choice, foolish as it may be. Make yourself scarce from this tomb and don't return."<</yulha>> [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $firstPassage to true>> The road brings you to Skeelhowl, the capital of Lytria. It doesn't nearly have the level of variety as Tappahannock. You stand out like a sore thumb, eyed as both a curiosity and as a stain. Unfortunately, much like the populace, Skeelhowl is brutish and dull. There is little of interest. You should probably return to Tappahannock... [[Visit the nearby roadhouse, the Split Hoof.|splithoof]] [[Peruse the roads outside of the capital.|seletrixintro]] ''For the time being, this only takes you to a single encounter.'' [[Return across the border to Tappahannock.|tappahannockhub]] <<if $yulhaStage is 2>>\ [[Follow Yulha's directions.|yulha1]] <</if>>\ <<if $seraStage >= 1>>\ [[Visit the Baroness' lands, Slopespine.|slopespinehub]] <</if>>\ <<if $seraStage is 0>> ''You are forbidden from entering Slopespine, for your rebuffing of the Baroness' offer.'' <</if>> Time to roll your sleeves up and do some work on the old range. [[Do some hard but honest work.|beccawork]] <<if $class is "wizard" and $fridge is false>> [[Ask her if she wants her larder fixed.|fridgefix]] <</if>> [[Say hi to Herrold.|herrtalkmenu]] [[Return to town.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $beccavisit = true>> <<set $becca = true>> The sun peeks over the horizon, casting a warm and gentle glow across the rolling hills. You find yourself amidst the tranquil bustle of a farm. The scent of fresh earth and morning dew fills the air, invigorating your senses as you step onto the soft, slightly damp ground. Your hands grasp the sturdy handle of a wooden pitchfork, the worn wood smooth against your palms. <<if $class is "fighter">>The pitchfork comes as easily to you as the spear does.<</if>><<if $class is "wizard">>The pitchfork comes as easily to you as the staff does. Staff defense classes finally paying dividends.<</if>> Becca guides you to the first task of the day - tending to the sheep pens. The gentle bleating of the sheep fills the air, a chorus of sound that seems to greet you with both familiarity and curiosity. The sheep's soft, woolly coats are kissed by the morning sunlight, creating a scene that's almost idyllic. There is an invigorating feeling of newness to your tasks. Becca largely leaves you alone, giving only the barest guidance. The sheep gather around, their eyes shining with anticipation as they nibble on the fresh feed. You can't help but smile at their contented expressions, a simple yet rewarding sight. But your work is far from over. The nearby cow barn beckons, and you make your way over to it. The scent shifts from the grassy sweetness of the sheep pens to the earthier, robust aroma of the cows. The cows look up as you enter, their large, expressive eyes watching your every move. Becca instructs, and shows you, just how to milk a cow. It seems simple enough, but many tasks are deceptively simple when performed by a trained hand. Still, you hunker down and give it a try. With a strong grip, you grasp a bucket and begin milking one of the cows. The rhythmic sound of milk hitting the pail fills the air, a comforting cadence that seems to harmonize with the surrounding nature. The cow's warm, velvety flank presses against your side as it stands calmly, used to this routine. As you work, you take in the sights around you. The sun now stands higher in the sky, casting a golden radiance across the farm. The distant bleat of sheep, the occasional lowing of cows, and the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind create a symphony of rural life. And in the midst of it all, you stand - a part of the cycle, a caretaker of the land and its creatures. <<if $class is "fighter">>As the morning wanes to afternoon, you wonder just why so many farm boys march themselves to service to get away from all this. And realize just why they cry so urgently for home when the reaper raps on their door. The gloomy thought doesn't get to linger.<</if>> Herrold gets your attention and tells you to go to the 'big house' for your pay. He takes over your current task with glee, letting you walk off. [[Continue.|beccapay]] You begrudgingly offer her the reason that you're merely passing through. It is truthful, you are traveling. Her suspicion is plain and apparent on her features. Her squire shifts the bags on his back and huffs, eagerly awaiting the end of this quiet exchange. She looks at him and then back to you, and her expression softens. "The nation of Lytria is warm to guests, I would be eager to host a visitor such as yourself at my estate in Slopespine." Her words are strict sounding but you detect an almost eagerness to it, as if she is posturing and concealing her curiosity about you. Her exacting gaze makes your skin tingle. You aren't sure if in a good or bad way. You inquire about this estate, a bit of shock waggling your curious tongue on your behalf. You simply have to know what she means. "Felip, go on," she says, looking down to her servitor. The ratling boy straightens out his back, looking pitiful being crushed by all the heavy luggage on his shoulders. "Announcing, Seraphina Velomouth, Baroness of Slopespine, champion, and veteran of the Second Gnoll uprising, accomplished duelist and advisor to King Greyam of Lytria." You bat your eyes in surprise. A baroness, you thank yourself for holding your tongue and not spitting out an insult. However, you have very little want to push your luck with this authority figure. You nod politely and thank her for the invitation and carry on past her. [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $firstPassage to true>> <<set $seraStage to 1>> You bark an insult at her, looking smug. You tell the looptail just like it is, she's an ugly hag disgracing that horse's back with her unseemly ass. And her stopping of you on the road is a waste of everyone's time. If she wants a conversation she can demand one from her squire - but you aren't under her control. She falls exceptionally quiet, and her manservant mutters. He looks between you and her with a worried mumbling, wringing his hands together. The leathers of her saddle grind as she dismounts herself, a heavy landing of her hooves to the cobbles following the metallic rattle of her stirrups being free from her weight. Perhaps you went a bit too far. Standing aside her mount, you realize she is nearly a head over you. Wide as a barrel and looking just as sturdy. She has a belly, but her arms are cut with muscles. Your breath catches in your throat at the smoldering expression she gives you. <<baron>>"Apologize for your insulting words or I will be forced to seek satisfaction."<</baron>> A duel? She means to fight you. Absurd! <<baron>>"It's my right as a Lytrian citizen to demand a duel. I cannot allow you to leave here and tell of how you insulted a Baroness of Lytria without punishment. We would lose face. I would lose face."<</baron>> A baroness? What a mendacious claim! How could that be possible? Yes, she has a horse and servant, but she's dressed in such simple clothing. The garments are likely cheaper than yours. <<baron>>"Felip, my titles," she turns to her squire. She wrinkles her snout in pride, a beauty mark blemishes her upper lip in a mockery of her feminity.<</baron>> The ratling boy straightens out his back, looking pitiful being crushed by all the heavy luggage on his shoulders. <<generic>>"Announcing, Seraphina Velomouth, Baroness of Slopespine, champion, and veteran of the Second Gnoll uprising, accomplished duelist and advisor to King Greyam of Lytria."<</generic>> You bat your eyes in surprise. <<baron>>"To first blood. I wouldn't gain anything from killing such a handsome man," she says stiffly. Her compliment to you makes you shudder with 'ick'. "If I win, I will collect satisfaction from you. If you win, I will award you a purse of one hundred gold."<</baron>> The squealer looked to her squire and then back to you. <<baron>>"My armor," she says barely above a whisper.<</baron>> Her servitor slips off his baggage and begins working. You're nearly stunned, she really intends to duel you. Without much chance to deny it, you prepare yourself mentally for battle, getting limber as you watch her be adorned in armor. Felip works quick and efficiently. From hoof to head, she is dressed in heavy metal. You can't help but notice the damp patches of sweat; under her arms, breasts, butt, and tummy, that are soaked to her clothing. All concealed now by heavy dark iron plate. The oinker places her helmet around her and shuts closed the visor. A welcome reprieve from looking at her ugly face. Your eyes drift to the brutal, long bardiche she wields—an advantage in height and in reach. [[Continue.|bbduel2]] You brace yourself, staring down the beast of a woman in heavy armor. First blood, just a cut, a single one. You could manage that. Boar knights have died by your sword before, so injuring one would be easy enough. You level your weapon at her, and she digs her hoof into the stones, kicking up some dust. Seraphina charges into you, head down, crashing into you and throwing you to the floor. The immense strength in her body and legs lifts you up a solid foot and then sends you ass first into the earth. You struggle under her, trying to move up your sword to catch her neck or armpit with the blade's tip. She swiftly knocks aside what meager defense you mount from the floor, digging the bardiche's tip to your neck, right under the chin. <<baron>>"Submit."<</baron>> You have no choice, with the wind knocked out of you, and your head pounding, you have no recourse. You nod. You feel a small knick, she'd poked the skin and drawn blood. <<generic>>"I see blood, ma'am! Congratulations, another success!" Felip calls, he'd moved up close, dancing a jig to the left of you.<</generic>> <<baron>>"And now for my prize." She casts off her helm for Felip to collect.<</baron>> She smiles and it is just as unsightly as her grimace. She lifts you with the same difficulty you'd lift a doll. Held in her grasp single-handed, you could only drag your boots to the soil as you are moved. With a longing gaze you look back to the sword she knocked from your hand, the collar of your armor holding you aloft. The uncooked slab of bacon reeks of warm sweat and a strange tang you don't recognize. You're dragged mercifully to some shade, taken up the hill despite your struggling, gripping her burly forearm as she carries you. <<baron>>She tosses you against the trunk of a tree, "Stay!" She barks.<</baron>> Felip follows behind leading her mount around and lacing it to a suitable posting, and then he begins helping Seraphina to disrobe. With each layer, your confusion grows alongside her joy. In no time at all the great sow is in naught but her tunic and trousers. She draws up her top slowly, revealing her brownish-red and thin fur and a set of perspiration-damp chest bindings. You try looking at anything but the slavering mouth of the tusked terror before you. A rough, leathery, dirt-covered hand grabs your clean mug and forces it forward. The intensity in her lust-struck eyes is all you need to know not to look away. She lets the strip of cloth fall, tugging between her breasts with her thumb to loosen it. Your mouth goes dry with anticipation at the sight of her breasts. The boar-bitch had a mother's figure when it came to her chest. Thick pink nipples sit semi-obscured by fur and give a hint to the piebald skin that lay underneath all her moisture-laden fur. [[Continue.|bbduel3]] She grasps the back of your neck and without warning, kneeling to shove her tongue down your mouth by force. Her rough tusks brush your cheeks and threaten your eyes. A mournful sound struggles to escape your lips as her wide and textured tongue coils around you. You put your hands out, sinking into her stomach and hips, trying to push her off. This only emboldens her! She moans to your mouth with such force it rumbles in your throat. Her wet snout sniffs at your face and taps you as she moves side to side. She humps against your body with a crushing force, thrusting up against you. Shamefully, your cock springs up in reply to the constant rubbing of her knee to your groin. She yanks her mouth back with a gasp. <<baron>>"Your mouth tastes splendid." Her husky voice produces a shiver down your spine.<</baron>> It's clear she only pulled back to tear down your trousers to your knees, her large hands fumbling with your belt. Her tongue licks behind your ear, and rolls around the neck. She takes great pains to yank the pants off you as much as she could. The tingling fires of shame tickle at your skin. Being exposed and even worse, visibly aroused, is mortifying. <<baron>>"Now look at that. I bet human women love it."<</baron>> Her tongue drags across the palm of one of her hands, making a show of lubricating it. She grasps your cock with her calloused hand and strokes. Instinctively, at the rough grip, you lurch forward, but her forearm shoves against your chest, keeping you pinned against the bark of the tree. Your cock is dwarfed by her hand and her size. The wet, but rough handjob is far more intense than you could have expected. There is a slight discomfort from the roughness, the overstimulation, and tight grip of her hand. Undeniable pleasure has you squirming under her pin. Your eyes drift to her tits with a sullen, lusty gaze. Given their size, now that they are pressed to your thighs, they are spilling over. Your cock struggles to throb in her grasp, and a little moan escapes from your parted lips. When Seraphina detects your arousal reaching a new level she lets go. <<baron>>"Tell me you want me to ride you."<</baron>> She grips the trunk beside your head, glowering down at you with a warrior's intensity, one tusk digging into your cheek. <<linkreplace "This is what passes for royalty?">>\ <<include "serameet">>\ <</linkreplace>> [[No, get off me you twirl-tailed bitch!|seraphinares]] [[Please, Baroness, ride me.|seraphinalike]]<<baron>>She shakes her head. "So be it. I will take what I want."<</baron>> She exhales harshly, quickly doing away with her trousers and the soaked, simple cloth panties beneath. You turn your head in a frail attempt not to look between her legs. She begins kneeling over your crotch, descending herself upon your groin with a painfully slow speed, smug triumph on her face. The baroness grabs your face along the chin and directs you forward. Your eyes trace down the dark, black, tapering line of fur that runs from her belly button down to the object of many men's desires. Puffy, soaking wet so bad it could be seen it on the labia, and tucked tightly between a pair of thighs that could crush a man's bones. Instinctively your shaft throbs and the head swells, drooling a string of pre. The heat radiating off it makes your resolve wilt. After giving you a good look at her pussy, proud at how conflicted she'd made you, she hoists you up. A pathetic squeak croaks from your throat as you're positioned like a slut, your legs forced nearly all the way to the sides of his your head. Muscles you didn't even know you had are stretched and strained as she locks you into an Amazonian position against the tree. Her heavy and sweaty body presses up against you. You feel entirely smothered, her boobs obscuring much of your vision. If anyone was to take a look from the outside, they'd not see any hint of you given how her large frame covers you. As she fucks herself down upon your penis, grunting and squealing, you begin to lose your initial shock and focus on the feeling. Heavenly. At least, that's what your cock thinks. The rest of you crawls with a chill of disgust. Something incredibly wet and warm, and terribly loose, slid up and down your shaft. It feels so amazing your skin tingles. It feels so horrible you moan in distress. Her size makes you feel so tiny, physically, and the length of your 'sword'. But she doesn't seem to mind, in fact after just a few moments she is squealing like a whore. A low, heady whine of lust rolled from the forest as the baroness rapes <<if $virgin is true>>the virginity from<</if>> you. Her drenched, sloppy, sweaty cunt slams down so hard on your pelvis that bruising is surely occurring. Your dick is swallowed up repeatedly by her snatch, wet plapping ringing out as her thighs slam down upon yours. Held up by your back and butt, and using the tree as a support, you feel always on the verge of falling over. Your hands swap between grasping at the bark and pathetically pushing at her chest in a frail attempt at slowing or stopping this. Half-made words of begging croak from your throat. Suddenly, some wonderful feeling begins riding up your dick. The only thing that is keeping your orgasm back is the steady feeling of distress and disgust at her form. But that is nothing against the repeated assault on your nethers. <<if $virgin is true>>\ It's over anyway, isn't it? Your virginity is being roughly fucked from you, in the woods, by a filthy loop-tail. It is when you realize you'd be the laughingstock of anyone if they ever learned of this that your strength falters. You offer no more defense, no struggle, as she invades your mouth with her tongue, again. <</if>>\ Your orgasm is telegraphed but still, the moment you tip over the edge it strikes you with the same surprise Seraphina's assault did. You can't deny it, the feeling of pleasure and relief that overcomes your entire form as you empty your balls into the gaped pigpussy. <<if $virgin is true>>None of your rare masturbation sessions, or your wildest fantasies or guesses, could have prepared you for the feeling of cumming raw into a cunt. The absolute depravity of letting a sow take you only seems to intensify the feeling. There is no control to the counter-thrust your body does back at her weighty body, but even so, you thrash in her grasp. <</if>>\ You moan into her mouth and she squeals, constant reminders of just who is abusing you. Your orgasm isn't the end, she isn't done yet. She stops her fucking and forces your dick to hilt her fully. Overstimulation compels sore throbs from your shaft. She dips her hand to her clit and rubs, each rotating movement brushes her knuckles to your tummy and makes her pussy clench. A slick, short hiss sounds out her orgasm, and you feel your thighs get soaked. With as much ceremony as she'd defeated you the baroness drops you like a toy to the damp grass below the tree. She dresses, watching you idly as you sheepishly try to collect yourself. She seems plenty satisfied. <<baron>>“Enjoy your sojourn in Lytria,” she says mockingly, leaving you in a pool of her cum. Her ratling attendant rapidly helps her dress and remount her horse, and the carry-on.<</baron>> You reek of boar pussy, soaked with it, skin and clothes. With an awful shudder, you recollect just how powerful the orgasm she raped from you was... <<if $virgin is true>> <<set $virgin = false>> <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "the Baroness Seraphina Velomouth">> <</if>> [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $firstPassage to true>> <<set $seraStage to 1>><<baron>>"Now that's an obedient boy. Undress me."<</baron>> Only a second's hesitation comes before you reach out to help remove her pants. Between the distraction of her intoxicating musk, and repeatedly trying to steal looks at her chest, you fumble your task. "Never mind, novice," she barks, batting away your hands. There is harsness to her tone but you detect an enjoyment in her actions which has you shiver with anticipation. She likes what she's doing, clearly. She stands and pulls down her pants and panties, bending forward to hide her muff until she stands fully straight up. Your eyes trace down the dark, black, tapering line of fur that runs from her belly button down to the object of many men's desires. Puffy, soaking wet so bad it could be seen it on the labia, and tucked tightly between a pair of thighs that could crush a man's bones. Instinctively your shaft throbs and head swelled, drooling a string of pre. The heat radiating off it makes your spirit surge. <<baron>>"Beg for it," she growls lewdly, getting her snout right next to your face, sniffing with a horking sound at each inhale.<</baron>> How could you not? You plead for Baroness Velomouth to slam her pigpussy down on your cock and <<if $virgin is true>>pop your cherry.<<else>>let you breed her.<</if>> <<if $virgin is true>>\ "A first timer, huh?" You think you see her cunt flex and wink in anticipation. For once, that harshness she puts into her words gives way to pure lust. "I am forever lucky I took a ride this morning." <</if>>\ After giving you a good look at her pussy, proud at how aroused she's made you, she hoisted you up. A pathetic squeak croaks from your throat as you're positioned like a slut, your legs forced nearly all the way to the sides of your head. Muscles you didn't even know you had were stretched and strained as she locks you into an Amazonian position against the tree. But she pauses, she doesn't yet dip herself down onto your cock, throbbing and brushing against her soaked labia. Her heavy and sweaty body presses up against you. You felt entirely smothered, her boobs obscuring much of your vision. If anyone was to take a look from the outside, they'd not see any hint of you given how her large frame covered you. As she fucks herself down upon your cock, grunting and squealing, you begin to lose your initial surprise and focus on the feeling. Heavenly. Ravishing, you feel your wick practically melting in her. It's like arriving home after an exhausting day of hard work. The muscles of your body begin to relax as you grip to her biceps and let her take you. It feels so amazing your skin tingles. You call out moans of submission to the pig baroness. Her size makes you feel so tiny, physically, and the length of your 'sword'. But she doesn't seem to mind, in fact after just a few moments she is squealing like a whore. A low, heady whine of lust rolled from the forest as the baroness <<if $virgin is true>>snatches the virginity from<<else>>fucks<</if>> you. Her drenched, sloppy, sweaty cunt slams down so hard on your pelvis that bruising is surely occurring. Your dick is swallowed up repeatedly by her snatch, wet plapping ringing out as her thighs slam down upon yours. Held up by your back and butt, and using the tree as a support, you feel always on the verge of falling over. Your hands swap between grasping at the bark and pathetically pushing at her chest in a frail attempt at slowing or stopping this. Half-made words of desperate desire croak from your throat. Suddenly, some wonderful feeling begins riding up your dick. The only thing that keeps your orgasm back is the harrowing want for this abusive pleasure to last longer. But that is nothing against the repeated assault on your nethers. <<if $virgin is true>>It's over! Your virginity is being roughly fucked from you, in the woods, by a loop-tail. It is when you realize you're being taken like a woman by this burly boar that your strength falters and you can't hold your edge. The mere thought of finally having gotten laid, and in such a debasing way, has your spine-tingling. <</if>>\ Your orgasm is telegraphed but still, the moment you tip over the edge it strikes you with the same surprise Seraphina's assault did. You can't deny it, the feeling of pleasure and relief that overcomes your entire form as you empty your balls into her gaped pigpussy. <<if $virgin is true>>\ None of your rare masturbation sessions, or your wildest fantasies or guesses, could have prepared you for the feeling of cumming raw into a cunt. The absolute depravity of letting a sow take you only seems to intensify the feeling. There is no control to the counter-thrust your body does back at her weighty body, but even so, you hump up at her like an eager dog. <</if>>\ You moan into her mouth and she squeals, constant reminders of just who is ravishing you. Your orgasm isn't the end, she isn't done yet. She stops her fucking and slips down your dick to full hilt. Overstimulation compels sore throbs from your shaft. She dips her hand to her clit and rubs, each rotating movement brushes her knuckles to your tummy and makes her pussy clench. A slick, short hiss sounds out her orgasm, and you feel your thighs get soaked. With a surprisingly gentle touch, she lays you on the damp grass before the tree like a cherished doll. She dresses, watching you idly as you sheepishly try to collect yourself. She seems plenty satisfied. <<baron>>“You will visit me at my estate in Slopespine,” she says resolutely, leaving you in a pool of her cum.<</baron>> <<baron>>"Felip will give you a token of passage. No one will trouble you in Lytria if you show them that."<</baron>> Her ratling attendant rapidly helps her dress and remount her horse, and they carry on. Before leaving, the ratman tosses you a carved wooden figure a few inches tall. The figure is soft and worn, its details somewhat faded. A matronly looking boarwoman, with her hands over her tits and prominent tusks to match her rounded belly. You reek of boar pussy, soaked with it, skin and clothes. It's delicious, and the scent and thought of her already has you eager for a second round. With a spark of delight, you realize she neglected to take her soaked panties. A trinket. You make out like a bandit. And the only price was the bruising and shaky legs. <<if $virgin is true>> <<set $virgin = false>> <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "the Baroness Seraphina Velomouth">> <</if>> [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $boarToken = true>> <<set $boarPanties = true>> <<set $firstPassage to true>> <<set $seraStage to 1>> Begrudingly you fork over the appointed gold, and pass into boar country. [[Continue.|lyhighway]] <<set $playerCoins -= 40>>\ You decline to pay the fee and dip your head respectfully to the surly boars. Waiting in the wings, you size up the situation. Your compact build and nimble stature give you confidence that slipping past the border guards unnoticed should be well within your capabilities. It doesn't take long for a boisterous and bustling group to congest the entryway, creating the ideal distraction you were hoping for. With heart-pounding stealth, you navigate through the gaps in their formation, your silent steps carrying you effortlessly into the realm beyond the border. The land of the boars awaits. And the best part? This little maneuver didn't cost you a single coin. [[Continue.|lyhighway]] <<becca>>"Good job today, sweet thing. Comes to you like a natural."<</becca>> She sweeps you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. The gesture is quite welcome, the warm embrace does a bit to relax your sore muscles. <<becca>>"So, you want boring pay, or ya want something a bit more interesting?"<</becca>> [[Take the coins.|beccapaycoin]] [[Take the surprise.|beccahj]]<<becca>>"Suit yourself. Here ya are."<</becca>> She happily slaps a small coin pouch to your hand. Honest pay for honest work, and all that. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 10>> She chuckles in a deep, womanly way, and beckons you further passed her living room to her bedroom. Oh. That kind of payment. The blood begins pumping immediately. She sits on her bed with a big, springy squeak to it. The overalls she'd put on slip off, until they're flapped over her lap. Up and over goes her shirt, revealing a massive set of boobs, deliciously light pink nipples marking the white and black fur of her hide. <<linkreplace "Rewards from a dairy cow.">>\ <<include "beccareward">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <<becca>>"Take your clothes off, hun, get comfortable! You earned it."<</becca>> You scramble out of your equipment, bounding over to her lap like a jackrabbit. Your cock is sprung, hard by the time your underwear is sliding down. <<if $class is "wizard">>She looks at your panties with some minor surprise. <<becca>>"Cute knickers, dear."<</becca>> <<becca>>She beams at the sight of you, scooping your small, furry body into her lap. "Now don't you just have the cutest little pecker, oh my."<</becca>> <<becca>>You gulp hard, head feeling light at the gently delivered mockery. "Aw, don't look that way, I think it's cute. Smaller than one of my fingers."<</becca>> She measures your shaft against her pinky, barely half. Not to mention it being thinner too. She takes your little prick in two fingers and begins slowly stroking you, up and down. <<becca>>"That's a good boy. Like that, hm?"<</becca>> You're panting with desire already. She encourages you to grope her, so you do, grabbing at her breasts. She takes the handjob she is giving you low and slow. And thank the gods for it, you didn't want to blow your pay into her palm after just a minute. <<becca>>"Careful now. I feel your knot swelling. Don't cum too early." Although she tells you not to, that drives your dick mad, your hips humping up at her two fingers.<</becca>> <<becca>>She cups your head with her other hand and guides you to the closest breast near you. "Go on, nurse at 'em. I've raised six boys and two girls. I ain't shy."<</becca>> Your body runs down with a shudder, just imagining what growing up with Becca would have been like. You wrap your small, vulpine mouth around her nipple and suckle. It immediately tastes wonderful, a warm, fleshy nipple to nibble on. And in no time at all comes the milk, filling your mouth in slight squirts. Being milked, and drinking her milk, is divine. She looks down to you with doting doe eyes, and you up at her with lust-filled and eager ones. In no time at all, far shorter than you'd have hoped, you're pumping your seed out into her palm. She presents her cum covered palm to you with a smile. Does she expect you to lick it clean? [[Lick her palm.|beccapalmlick]] [[Refuse.|beccapalmrefuse]] <<else>> She beams at the sight of you, scooping your muscular form into her lap. "Now ain't that a nice healthy boy?" She admires the size of your cock. Her hand mostly covers it, when she wraps it in her grip, but her compliment is genuine. <<becca>>"I do love the feeling of a human's spear if you don't mind me sayin'. When I was a younger lass I never complained when a man would come knockin'. Not going out and making the claim I spread my legs for everyone with a shaven face and nice broad shoulders but... "<</becca>> She smirks, her handjob gentle and loving. It's clearly given with extreme experience. Despite how often she uses her hands for work they are silky smooth, and she has your breathing amped up in only a few minutes. She encourages you to grope her, so you do, grabbing at her breasts. She takes the handjob she is giving you low and slow. And it's working wonderfully. Your hips buck up at her hand, which she sometimes teasingly draws back. <<becca>>She cups your head with her other hand and guides you to the closest breast near you. "Go on, nurse at 'em. I've raised six boys and two girls. I ain't shy."<</becca>> Your body runs down with a shudder, just imagining what growing up with Becca would have been like. You wrap your lips around her nipple and suckle. It immediately tastes wonderful, a warm, fleshy nipple to nibble on. And in no time at all comes the milk, filling your mouth in slight squirts. Being milked, and drinking her milk, is divine. She looks down to you with doting doe eyes, and you up at her with lust-filled and eager ones. In no time at all, far shorter than you'd have hoped, you're pumping your seed out into her palm. She presents her cum covered palm to you with a smile. Does she expect you to lick it clean? [[Lick her palm.|beccapalmlick]] [[Refuse.|beccapalmrefuse]] <</if>> Weird, but in your post-orgasmic haze, you're swayed. With her milk's sweet flavor still on your tongue, you dive your face to her palm and lick up your own seed. Salty, as you've heard many times, and thick. But not awful, at least not as awful as you think. She moos gently with pleasure and in quite a surprise, drags her massive tongue against her palm to get the rest, before pressing you into a tongue kiss, snowballing your own semen with you awhile. She spills you out from her lap soon enough, slapping your bare ass. <<becca>>"Enough fun for now, boy. I got work to do. See ya round soon."<</becca>> You shakily dress, dick feeling spent and pleasantly flaccid. And mouth tasting a bit odd. [[Continue.|tapexit]] She shrugs and you detect some minor disappointment. She drags her massive tongue against her palm to get the spent semen. She spills you out from her lap soon enough, slapping your bare ass. <<becca>>"Enough fun for now, boy. I got work to do. See ya round soon."<</becca>> You shakily dress, dick feeling spent and pleasantly flaccid. And mouth tasting pleasantly sweet, remnants of her milk still on your tastebuds. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'rivercloak.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'beccareward.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'knight.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'yulha.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'seraphina.png']]</span> You buy a jar of Helarui's scent cloak. <<set $playerCoins -= 10>>\ <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'scentcloak.png']]</span> <<set $hasScentcloak to true>> [[Keep browsing.|helaruiitems]]<<if $hitailvisit is false>>\ The High Tail feels like home. At least, it tries its best to. Everything from the furniture to the lighting is hand-set to feel comforting, discreet, and welcoming. The front doors opened into a small foyer of sorts. The entryway leads in three directions. Left, right, and a set of stairs leading to the second floor. The walls are adorned in rice paper depicting alluring imagery, all inked with swirling blacks and deep reds with a rich beige cream color as the negative space. The marouflage gives a taste of all the pleasure available within the High Tail. Lots, and lots of lewd acts. There is a certain level of aesthetical opulence, cheap-richness. But it takes you no more than a moment's glance to see the poorly cleaned stains, the wear and tear, and how thin and cut-rate much of it is. To the left, you can hear the rattling of dice, and the highs and lows of high rollers and lowborns alike losing or winning it all. The clatter of coins and raucous conversation were muffled by a pair of doors shut tight, with a bouncer standing outside. An orc of broad and surly figure. His bald pate is wreathed with greyish hair tied in a short ponytail that lies over his shoulder. To the right, open doors revealed a lounge of sorts. Various anthros and other races mingled here in a smokey mire of water pipes, cigars, and the dense scent of alcohol. Many of what you identify as clients are quite relaxed and sedentary, while the working girls traveled between them in a delicate dance to keep them sedated and spending coin. You wonder briefly if you'll get roped into that same trap.<<if $virgin is true>> Given your inexperience, a certain level of trepidation and excitement fills you up while taking in the details. You're this place's perfect prey.<</if>> Before you can ponder it too long, an older panda woman approaches you to disturb your thinking. Her black hair is done in a tight bun, the bangs neatly lay just above her eyebrows. A pair of golden, circular earrings are plugged to her rounded, soft white white-furred ears. She has a pudgy, almost cute face that carries a feline smile. This cuteness is held back entirely by the severely mischievous aura she projected. Loosely draped on her is a silken, expensive-looking dress in a foreign style. Her cheongsam's patterning holds some floral design that seemed to shift and change depending on the angle and movement so that it could always be seen well. No matter how her curvy body positioned itself. She has an incredibly heavy posterior, impossible to ignore and only amplified by the way her clothes hang from her. <<ji>>"Another customer, and a new face. Welcome to my establishment. I am Madame Ji Stillblossom, and you are?"<</ji>> Her graceful tone is laden with a pleasing accent. The way her tongue twists the common she speaks is soothing in a way, and you already feel like you'd love hearing her speak on whatever topic she'd like to. You give your name, and feel her grasp around your arm to lead you further in.<<if $class is "fighter">><<ji>>"That armor looks exhausting to wear, why do you arrive in it? Expecting a fight? We make love here, not war, as they say," she says. Comedically, it's just as you pass by one of her bouncers.<</ji>><</if>><<if $class is "wizard">><<ji>>"This robe is sublime. Is it enchanted? I can practically feel the tingle of magic coming from it," she says, rubbing the material between her index and thumb.<</ji>><</if>> She leads you by the stairs, taking you aside just as a working girl comes down. They exchange a smile and nod, and then Madame Stillblossom turns her full attention to you. <<ji>>"What brings you to the High Tail, what can the mistress of the house do for you?"<</ji>> [[Ask about the place.|jiplace]] [[Ask about her.|jiher]] <<else>> The High Tail felt like home. At least, it tried its best to. Everything from the furniture to the lighting is hand set to feel comforting, discreet, and welcoming. The front doors opened into a small foyer of sorts. The entryway leads in three directions. Left, right and a set of stairs leading to the second floor. The walls are adorned in rice paper depicted alluring imagery, all inked with swirling blacks and deep reds with a rich beige cream color as the negative space. The marouflage giving a taste of all the pleasure available within the High Tail. Lots, and lots of lewd acts. There is a certain level of aesthetical opulence, cheap-richness. But it takes you no more than a moment's glance to see the poorly cleaned stains, the wear and tear, and how thin and cut-rate much of it is. To the left, you can hear the rattling of dice, and the highs and lows of high rollers and peasants alike losing or winning it all. The clatter of coins and raucous conversation were muffled by a pair of doors shut tight, with a bouncer stood outside. An orc of broad and surly figure. His bald pate iss wreathed with greyish hair tied in a short ponytail that lay over his shoulder. To the right, open doors revealed a lounge of sorts. A wide variety of anthros and other races mingled here in a smokey mire of water pipes, cigars, and the dense scent of alcohol. Many of what you identify as clients are quite relaxed and sedentary, while the working girls travelled between them in a delicate dance to keep them sedate and spending coin. Where will you visit today? [[The lounge.|hitaillounge]] [[The gambling hall.|hitailgamble]] [[Speak with Madame Stillblossom.|hitailjitalk]] <<if $prostitute is true>> <<set _psg to either( 'barwork', 'wizrimmed', 'wizhorse', 'wizcheetah', 'wizbirb', )>>\ <<link 'Work a shift as a whore in the High Tail.' _psg>><</link>> <</if>> [[Leave.|bottlehub]] <</if>><<ji>>"The High Tail is exactly as it seems, honey. A place to relax, and unwind. Somewhere secrets don't escape and passion is shared. Pleasure for coin. Whether it be physical, or otherwise. We have it. There is nary a taste we don't cater to, well... so long as it doesn't break city law."<</ji>> The Madame winks, tilting her head toward you slightly, and producing a folding paper fan. She holds a moment and examines you, subtly running her tongue over her lips. The gesture is half-hidden by her fan which makes it seem a bit more genuine. Being on guard is the smart move, she's likely just trying to butter up a potential customer. Though she's clearly experienced in just the right expressions and looks, tailor-made to make men weak in the knees. At this distance, being so close, it is easy to detect her very floral scent. It is a bit much, just as an older woman might wear. <<ji>>"So, what brings you here? Is it the girls?" She turns toward the lounge's entryway on your right. Soft pillows, half-naked men and women, alcohol and drugs. "So long as someone hasn't gotten to them first, any of those beautiful people can be yours. Prices vary based on skill and demand, mind you."<</ji>> <<ji>>"What appeals to you? Do you enjoy laying back and letting your partner do all the work? Submitting to them? Or do you enjoy taking the reins and exerting your every desire on a placated servant?"<</ji>> <<linkreplace "You're the dominant type.">>\ <<include "hitaildom">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <<linkreplace "You're the submissive type.">>\ <<include "hitailsub">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <<linkreplace "Ask about the other door, on the left.">> <<include "hitailotherdoor">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <<set $hitailvisit to true>> <<return>><<ji>>"Me? If you're wondering, I am not on the menu. At least not for you."<</ji>> She stands up straight and proudly puts a hand on her hip, round and wide, tilting a bit to show off her backside while she speaks. <<ji>>"I worked in the High Tail for a decade before becoming the Madame of it. If you can think of it, I've been paid to do it. And I loved every second of it."<</ji>> You ask if she ever misses the work. <<ji>>"Not really, I've had my fill for the most part. I enjoy the pleasures of retirement now," she fans herself.<</ji>> You ask where she's come from. <<ji>>"A far-off land very unlike this one. The home to my kind and cranes, among other ferocious and beautiful races." Her eyes twinkle with a sudden memory, "We employed a tigress from there once, she was a favorite."<</ji>> You wonder what could convince her to get to work again on your behalf. <<ji>>"Spend a lot of gold here. Perhaps I'd consider it."<</ji>> <<if $class is "wizard">> She takes a second to think, but you can tell she's playing this up to be a little coy. <<ji>>"Well, spend coin. Or earn it."<</ji>> Surely she means through gambling. <<ji>>She slowly shakes her head no. "It's easy, and you've got the body for it, I can tell. Just a bit of laying on your back is all."<</ji>> She looks over your uncertain expression with a probing glance. She knows just how to get girls to work, and she seems set on applying those skills to you. <<ji>>"You're wearing panties aren't you?"<</ji>> Your eyes flutter at her and you turn towards her a bit in surprise. <<ji>>"I could tell by the way you were walking, and just confirmed it by the way your fur bristled when I asked."<</ji>> You uneasily recoil from her, but she loops around your back, laying a hand to your hip and dragging it up across your torso. <<ji>>"So, what do you say, want to give it a try, handsome? I'll make it worth your while."<</ji>> <<ji>>"The pay is good. The work is safe. Our clients are... varied."<</ji>> [[Yes. What's the harm?|wizprostyes]] [[Absolutely not.|wizprostno]] <<else>> <<ji>>She chuckles softly and shakes her head. "Is that all?"<</ji>> [[Continue.|hitail]] <</if>> <<set $hitailvisit to true>> You explain you like being dominant with your partners, putting them in their place, and showing them who's boss. Or, at the very least, being the penetrating party. <<ji>>She nods in approval, it seems. "As a man should. Our Athani may be up your alley. Limber and submissive, likes to talk too. Real passionate when she gets into it. I personally trained her in oral, I'll have you know. Our Brandy also enjoys taking rather than giving now and then. She's a hermaphrodite, though, be warned. Some men enjoy holding onto her cock while they fuck her. Not to mention the facial."<</ji>> <<ji>>She taps her chin. "If you like older women, there is Florence, if you don't mind tobacco smoke and you're polite." She gives you an appraising smirk, seeing who appeals to you by your reaction.<</ji>> You explain that you like being submissive with your partners, letting them do what they will with you, and making use of you. She nods, "That used to be my specialty. Plucking apart my clients until they were simpering, desperate little messes willing to do anything I like." She just barely graces her fingertips against your chin. "We have Brandy, who's more than willing to lay pipe in novice and experienced bottoms alike. Though she isn't much of a mean dominatrix, she's quite gentle. There is Florence if you like a bit of mockery and bottoming both. Oh, and Minerva, though she may be a bit too rich for your blood. I'd avoid her unless you find yourself getting sprung at the idea of an empty coin purse for little gained."<<ji>>"Our gambling hall. Fair and balanced, of course. We've got most of your favorite card and dice games. And some foreign ones from my home you may be new to. I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but don't get caught cheating." The smile she offers is incredibly sinister, and her eyes flick to the Orc a meter or two to your left.<</ji>> Not far from the main roads leading out of Skeelhowl is a hut. The hut alone is eye-catching for the oddity of it being here on its lonesome. What snags your attention next is the garden surrounding it, and the low gate protecting that. Finally, moving out from behind the hut is a human woman. Trapped in her own world, she immediately bends over to tend to her items, you don't think she's noticed you. She's dressed in simple garments. A long flowing skirt of red, with a black tunic atop. Her long black hair was tied tightly in a ponytail, but its fluffy nature meant it flowed freely along her back and shoulder as she bent over. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'seletrix.png']]</span> <<if $class is "wizard">>By her scent you can tell she is an older woman, but her body gives little evidence of that reality. She, and her garden, smell quite similar. And no surprise considering. An earthy scent of vegetables is laid to her and her clothing. Along with all those delicate smells that marked her as a woman. Moreover, you detect a stunning level of arcane potency from her.<</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">>You nearly jump out of your skin when you take more than a moment's glance at her. It is Seletrix, a battle mage. The Yellow Stripes faced against her in the past, and so have you. She was a nightmare on the battlefield. A cultivator of fire and lightning both, slaughtering men with molten plasma by the dozen.<</if>> "Come only to gawk, or will you say something?" She calls, not bothering to turn her head. With a slight wave of her hand, a tiny set of storm clouds form above her vegetables and pour down a pattering of delicate rain. The leafy green shoots jerk and wiggle when met with the weight of the drops. The clouds darken and rumble with lightning before she quickly dismisses them. <<if $class is "wizard">>Curiously, despite the potency you detected earlier, her struggles to perfect this relatively simple spell is apparent to you.<</if>> Finally, she stands up, <<if $class is "fighter">>shorter than you.<<else>>about your height.<</if>>"May I ask why you've approached my home?" She puts a hand on her hip, cocking her head to the side. She has tanned skin, a bit richer in tone than you've seen mostly, with hazel eyes. Most stand out is her long, slender nose. In some ways, it disturbs the beauty of her face. In other ways, it is somewhat appealing. Traditionally witch-like. You explain that you were just traveling down the lane and stumbled upon her. She hums, thinking. "Well, what do you want?" [[She's hot. You were staring.|seletrixstare]] <<if $class is "fighter">> [[Mention the Yellow Stripes.|seletrixfintro]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Mention her potent arcane aura.|seletrixwintro]] <</if>> [[Leave her be.|skeelhowl]] Her home is sweet smelling, and draped with all assortment of dried and perserved items. Hanging from the ceiling are countless little ornaments you have to dodge to follow her. Leaves, vegetables, herbs, and who knows what else. The furnishings are all rustic and wooden. Little is new, everything worn with tender and prolonged usage. It's cozy and homey, inviting even. Although she is relatively welcoming, Seletrix projects a strange aura that sets you just a tad off ease. <<if $virgin is false>> "Unfortunately I don't have much use for men who aren't virginal. If only you could turn the hands of time back, eh?" She says with a sigh, settling into a chair with a creak. "For the time being, we have little to speak on." [[Leave her company.|skeelhowl]] <<else>> "I do enjoy helping initiate men into the myserious of their fairer counterparts. Would you like a bit of practice before you try the real thing?" She says with a smile, settling into a chair with a creak. [[Sure!|seletrixpracticehj]] [[Leave her company.|skeelhowl]] <</if>> She gives you an incredulous stare. "Really? Don't have anything better than that?" <<if $virgin is true>> She sighs heavily, rolling her shoulders and turning her waist side to side. "Guess it's not your fault. Still cherry, aren't ya?" You nod, a bit aghast. Is it really that noticeable? "Yes. You're better off trying something less forward with me." There is silence, but something about you or your expression makes her sigh and relent. "Come inside for a moment why don't you?" You eagerly accept!<<else>>"Horny little mutt, aren't we? You're better off trying something less forward with me." There is silence, but something about you or your expression makes her sigh and relent. "Come inside for a moment why don't you?" You eagerly accept!<</if>> [[Continue.|seletrixhome]] You relax yourself a bit, your hand resting on your pommel lightly. And, while presenting yourself at ease, not a threat, you explain you've seen her on the battlefield before. And not as an ally. Naturally, this makes Seletrix defensive, you're quick to assuage any issues by alerting her to the matter of you being your own man. "You'd be foolish to try anything on your own, anyway. You aren't foolish now, are you?" You shake your head no. There is something to be said for amnesty between mercenaries no longer in conflict. Seletrix smiles at the mention of this notion and relaxes further. "That doesn't fully explain why you've come to visit me." Pure chance as brought you before the witch this afternoon. With a slightly annoyed expression, she sighs. "There are guest friendship laws in Laytria. I'm obligated to offer you a little something." Although it isn't too needed, you accept. Seletrix gives a final check over her garden before inviting you in. [[Continue.|seletrixhome]] You raise your left hand up in a greeting, your ring finger curled down to the palm. It's a greeting shared by some learned arcanists, popular at your academy of Flakefeather. If she recognizes it she doesn't let on. "May I help you?" You explain you're just a traveling, studying wizard. "I can detect as much. Did you seek me out with some intent?" In truth not at all, just pure chance. Curiosity makes your tongue waggle, and you ask if she's encountered any Forlorn. "I have not. I make a habit of avoiding anywhere around Elsteron and I recommend you do the same. That includes Black Rook Pass." Her voice lowers to a mutter and she looks down to her vegetable garden. "Godsforsaken place." She's not seen one, so you refine your question. Instead, you ask if she'd heard of any making their way this far south to Lytria. This makes her recoil in a bit of surprise. "Absolutely not. I shudder to think... brutish they may be, but I'd like to think the boars would hold their boarders tight enough that one of those things wouldn't slip out of quarantine." You shrug, offering no more information. She does ask after why you're inquiring, but you brush her off enough that she relents. "I insist you join me inside to break bread. Lytria has strict laws on guest friendship. I wouldn't want to be fined now." She beckons you to follower her to the hut. [[Continue.|seletrixhome]] Halfplate armor; shaped metal plates that cover your important bits. The focus of the protection lay on the vitals. Beneath it lay a gambeson to soak up whatever blows the plate mail doesn't. You're able to retain a lot of dexterity and mobile, at the cost of some detriment to the protection on your legs. Longsword; while it has its drawbacks, your longsword is quite useful in the city limits of Tappahannock. Relatively easy to wield, useful against lightly or unarmored opponents, and familiar to you. It's served you well as a sidearm in your service with the Yellow Stripes. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'longsword.png']]</span> Baratier's dead drop; It's a small parcel wrapped in parchment and tied with string. Inside the jostle of something metallic. Your immediate thought is gold, coins, but there is definitely something else in there. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'deaddrop.png']]</span> Herb bundle; a bundle of herbs. <<if $class is "wizard">>Though some of these could be used in cooking, they would be wasted in a meal. These are of potency and graded for use in potioncrafting. Not your area of expertise, but any alchemist who practices would have use for these common ingredients.<<else>>You think they may be for cooking.<</if>> Arcane Tome; your arcane tome. Scribbled with runic marks drafted in enchanted ink, made from treated vellum. The margins are cluttered with small notes, adjustments, and commentary made over many long nights of study and experimentation. Refined over years of work at the academy, and your own travels. Your lifeline to the magical. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'arctome.png']]</span> Necromantic grimoire; a stolen necromancer's grimoire. It is cold to the touch. The wrinkled leather of the covers strikes you as unusually eerie. It was once locked away in the academy's library, until you liberated it from its bindings. You have a possessive urge to protect it, but dare not scribe anything to the pages. Much of its contents are a mystery to you. What little you do understand has been deeply illuminating. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'ngrim.png']]</span> Robes; Purple, silken robes. Fine, expensive, and fluid. Minor enchantments enhance your magical ability, and the comfort of the garb allows you the concentration and focus needed for casting. Held snug to your little cock, are a pair of matching panties. They simply feel more appropriate to wear under your trousers. Nothing else to it. Seraphina's used panties; dirty panties left behind by the Baroness. They smell incredibly potent, you only wish they were still warm with her body heat. The groin is stained with the marks of her arousal, and it reeks deeply of her rich musk. The scent alone is stimulating. You could masturbate with them... <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'serapanties.png']]</span> Dagger; A thin dagger, sometimes called a stiletto. The crossguard works more as a grip for better leverage. Useful for perhaps stabbing into a librarian's back, but not much else. You've opened letters and parcels with it in the past. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'stiletto.png']]</span> Scent Cloak; A herbal mixtures ground into a salve meant to be rubbed into one’s clothing and skin. It masks an individual person’s unique scent with a neutralizing mask. It also nullifies one's own sense of smell. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'scentcloak.png']]</span> You spot Clarissa resting on a bench in a public portion of the Botanical Gardens, inspecting her legs and rubbing the soreness from her bit. You decide to approach her, and with jubilance, she excitedly waves you over. <<courier>>"Hey, $name, did you visit Lytria?"<</courier>> You explain that you did and that you made use of her secret route. <<courier>>"That's great! Did it help? I know it sure does for me. I had a delivery up north just a little while ago. That one wasn't so good at all."<</courier>> You ask after what happened, giving a look over her and her legs. Her disposition gives you the hint that she perhaps was injured, but this is quickly dispelled. "Mhm, I only got half my pay because they said the item was damaged but I was careful with it the whole way. I am always careful with my stuff. Grr. Annoying bastards." You ask if she injured herself, is that why she's rubbing her legs? <<courier>>"Oh nah! I'm just making sure I'm in tip-top shape. Hey you're a $class right, what do you do to keep on top of your skills and stuff?"<</courier>> <<linkreplace "Overly excitable equine.">>\ <<include "clarissapic">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ She tilts her head toward you, her large and doe-like eyes blinking expectantly at you. Her long and broad muzzle is cute, naturally, and has some regal elements to it in a way. Something stately about the slight flexing of her nostrils. But, that austere veneer is wiped away by her goofy smile and empty-headed expression. <<if $class is "fighter">>You explain to Clarissa your routine to keep sharp with your weapons skills. But more than that, the care you put into your weapons and armor. They require maintenance, repair, and tending to. When it comes to your skills, you convey that many of them don't dull so readily, but improvements can always be made. Since you quit the Yellow Stripes, you haven't had much to cut your teeth against in a spar. <<if $boarmarker>>No wonder that Baroness got the better of you... You don't mention your encounter with the boar.<</if>> <<courier>>"Ya think I can be a warrior too or nah?"<</courier>> She springs up to her hooves with a clattering clap, proudly putting her hands to her sides and showing herself off. She already had the gear many scouts wear, a light cuirass. It's quite possible. You ask how strong her upper body is and she flexes her arms at you proudly, smiling widely. In truth, not so much. All of her muscle mass is in her legs and thighs, clearly. Before you begin foaming at the mouth gawking at them, you avert your gaze. Although she has some of the markers of definition on her arms and shoulders it isn't much. "Naw, what? I mean, how hard could swinging a sword be? Would you teach me? Would you train me?" [[Train Clarissa in the ways of martial combat.|clarissa3fa]] [[Taking on an apprentice is a bit too much.|clarissa3d]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">>You explain to Clarissa that your wit is sharpened with the whetstone of study and meditation and that plunging the depths of the arcane requires the utmost dedication and care. Her large brown eyes twinkle with the turning cogs of her mind, you get the sense she doesn't know many of the large words you're using. Her enraptured expression, simple as it is, prompts you to launch into a self-aggrandizing tirade regarding the stupid academy you left and its ridiculous policies. Truly, stunting progress with their incompetency and misguided efforts. It's clear to anyone with a brain you should have been awarded and lauded for your research into the darker subjects of the mystical. You're quick to cut yourself off before you get into the gritty details of the grave digging and reanimation, though. Through it all she's on the edge of her seat on the bench, rocking back and forth, hands to her folded leg as she listens. Her perked high ears twitch and she acts as a little chorus to your tale, with inserts of gasps and 'How could they!?'. Satisfied, you collect yourself and sigh, and in the quiet, she asks the question that was hanging from her tongue tip this whole time. <<courier>>"What if you took a magical apprentice? Could I cast spells? Do you think you could teach me to do that stuff?"<</courier>> You highly doubt she has the aptitude, it requires a lot of intellect to grasp even the most basic elements. Not to mention much willpower and dedication to bend such forces to your will. <<courier>>"Well I'm really good with figures and counting, and I used to do a lot of reading when I was a foal!"<</courier>> She springs up to her hooves, the metallic shoes clacking to the cobbles. She strikes what she thinks is a magical pose and goes 'pew pew' as she faux-casts some spells. With that stunning display, how could you decline her? <<courier>>"How hard could a fireball be? Would you teach me? Would you train me?"<</courier>> [[Train Clarissa in the ways of the arcane mysteries.|clarissa3wa]] [[Taking on an apprentice is a bit too much.|clarissa3d]] <</if>> Something about the notion of training an overeager equine girl to swing a sword brings you a smile and a bit of fear. She's liable to lop your head off if you aren't careful. You tell her to buy some supplies, a weapon she'd want to learn's practice copy, and maybe a potion of stamina too. She whips out a small notepad and begins scribbling something with a pencil. You notice the end of it is well nibbled. Satisfied with your answer, she giddily trots away, then turns on a hoof. "Oh! Right! Uh, bye! Meet me back here, yes?" You smile and wave as she clip-claps away, wondering what you've gotten yourself into. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $clarissaStage to 4>> Something about molding a fresh, eager mind to your own belives appeals to you. Technically you need a license to tutor, but who's telling the authorities? If she can't master your early instruction, she's liable to be disappointed when she can't produce much more than a spark. Worse, if she's too apt for it, she might torch you and herself. You shudder at the thought. You instruct her to take note of a long list of materials and supplies, including a potion of wits. To her credit she's a quick scribe, writing all you say as you say it to a small notepad. The scribble scrabble of her pencil to the paper reminds you of your time at the academy. With a squint, you notice the chewed tip of the utensil. Satisfied with your decision to take her on, she giddily trots away, then turns on a hoof. <<courier>>"Oh! Right! Uh, bye! Meet me back here sometime, yes?"<</courier>> You smile and wave as she clip-claps away, wondering what you've gotten yourself into. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $clarissaStage to 4>><<courier>>"Oh, okay! Yeah, I understand. We can still hang out and stuff though, right?"<</courier>> Her overeager expression is accompanied by her leaning in toward you, her tied-up tail swishing and flicking her own side. <<courier>>"Ya know if you wanna."<</courier>> You nod. Based on her body language you get the feeling the declining is a little upsetting to her. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] Clarissa still needs time to gather supplies! <span style="color: skyblue;"><strong>This is the current end of the route, come back again in the next update!</strong></span> <<return>> The Madame had mentioned in passing the equine hermaphrodite. Though a brief description did the girl no justice. She is terribly tall, with a midnight black coat of fur interrupted only by white 'gloves' and 'socks' to her fur. She is dressed in lingerie of red, light, and silky, made to compliment her fur. For your enjoyment, and that of the other clients, her cock and balls are nearly entirely exposed. Their only concealment comes in the form of a ball-bra and cock-sock. The tip of her flat-headed horsedick has dampened this penile lingerie with arousal. Something about that darkened fabric is enticing and frightening both, a sign she's ready to roll at the drop of a coin. <<linkreplace "Brandy, and her horsecock.">>\ <<include "brandypic">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ Her tail is let free, as long and luscious looking as her mane, laying over her firm butt. She catches you staring and smirks. No need to go to her, she approaches you. That is her job, after all, to make you as comfortable as possible. <<brandy>>"Hey there, I'm Brandy. You're a new face."<</brandy>> Given her height, your head is right by her melon-sized tits. <<brandy>>"Thought I saw you taking a look! Only thirty for an hour, darling. And I'm a horse who likes to ride and be ridden!"<</brandy>> She smiles at you, her tall ears twitching slightly, waiting for you to accept or decline her offer. <<if $playerCoins >= 29>> [[Get fucked by Brandy.|brandyride]] [[Fuck Brandy.|brandyridetop]] <<else>> ''You need 30 gold for Brandy's services.'' <</if>> [[Nevermind.|hitaillounge]] You tell Brandy you want her to dick you down, and she is more than happy to accept. <<brandy>>"You can pay after you're satisfied, darling. C'mon. Follow me."<</brandy>> She smirks, turning and leading you through the lounge to the staircase nearby. She waits for you by the foot of the stairs, the clip-clap of her hooves falling softly on the carpeting. Up and up she leads you, to the second floor and to her personal room. It's as well-decorated as the rest of the establishment. Fine-tuned to be comforting and give an air of luxury. <<brandy>>"Well get all comfy! Need help with your clothes?"<</brandy>> She offers and doesn't wait for approval. Standing more than a head over you, it is soothing to be doted on by such a large girl. She helps you out of each piece of outerwear you have slowly and carefully, until you're in naught but your undergarment. <<brandy>>"Oh my, what a body. You look exceptional, darling."<</brandy>> Her hands trace around your chest, going up and down them as she runs her fingers across you. You can feel her breasts press against your back, and her cock to your ass. It's a not-so-small reminder that she's about to slide herself inside you. <<brandy>>"Now then, this ol' boy's quite big. Sure you can handle it?"<</brandy>> You gulp and nod. You aren't so sure, now that you're watching her rub her half-flaccid shaft, the cloth covering her dickhead drooling pre. She pulls off the cock-sock and it's sticky with her arousal, giving it a little wiggle between her fingertips before tossing it aside. <<brandy>>"Get up on that bed for me, darling!"<</brandy>> Following her words, you clamber atop the soft bed and, lay flat to your belly. You look over your shoulder, watching in anticipation as Brandy gets up along the side of the bed. She strokes herself to hardness, slathering her cock with the precum oozing from her excited cock's head. You notice just how massive her balls are, they look heavy, and quite big compared to yours and any you've seen. She slaps her dick against your exposed cheeks, patting there. It's warm and feels quite alive and needy. <<brandy>>"Not always I get the pleasure of riding such a handsome guy! Exhale, and get real relaxed. Just breathe nice and steady."<</brandy>> Brandy mounts the bed as you take her advice, putting her weight on you as she gets ready to fuck you. Her leaking tip slathers up your asshole, lubricating it with her natural excitement. The size of her cock is quite large compared to your rear, and lots of uncertainty begins to fill you. <<brandy>>"Don't worry, I can feel you tense up. You asked for it, you can take it~"<</brandy>> You nod and hold to the bed sheets while she rocks forward for the first thrust, pressing against your asshole until her cock's tip pops in. There is a small wince of pain, but Brandy soothes you with hushed whispers of inspiration. Instead of the pain, you focus on the deliciously warm fullness of her cock as it gently works its way forward, and the feel of her soft and bountiful breasts on your back. The curtain of her mane brushes against your neck in a tickle, it makes you tense, clenching down around her dick. <<brandy>>"You're doing great~" She whispers.<</brandy>> She begins now to rock back and forth, some of her cock finally fucking your tender hole. You clutch at the bed as the pressure on your prostate arouses you, exhaling in soft moans to express your pleasure to her. She takes the reins like the professional she is, fucking you at a safe and comfortable pace. She doesn't make use of all her cock at first, exploring your limits to provide you the perfectly full fuck she can. It's so tight you can feel the throbbing and flaring of her dick as she excitedly continues to hump you. The pressure on your insides, and the compression of your prostate, coaxes out an orgasm from you. A subtle, full-body feeling of orgasm rolls from your cock outward in radiating spirals. Prompted by Brandy's claiming fuck, you dampen the sheets with a powerful few squirts of cum, spraying it out just in time for her flare to fill out and your insides to be flooded with her semen. You can feel the veins and median ring on her shaft pulse and bulge with each hearty pump. <<brandy>>"Whoa!" she calls, with excitement.<</brandy>> The bed rocks with her suddenly increased thrusting, thumping against the wall in a shaking rock. The warm injection of thick, seminal fluid up your rump makes you sigh a half-moan, craning your neck back in bliss at the feeling of being bred by the equine herm bearing down on you. She collapses atop you, her sweaty, overworked body lying against yours as she exhales heavily. <<brandy>>"Don't always have that much fun, but you were tight, darling." She pats your ass.<</brandy>> <<if $virgin is true>> <<set $virgin = false>>\ <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "Brandy">>\ <</if>> [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] <<set $playerCoins -= 30>> <<if $baratierStage is 7 and $hasJibook is false>> [[Try to sneak around and steal the book.|stealbook]] <</if>> You tell Brandy you want to dick her down, and she is more than happy to accept. <<brandy>>"You can pay after you're satisfied, darling. C'mon. Follow me."<</brandy>> She smirks, turning and leading you through the lounge to the staircase nearby. She waits for you by the foot of the stairs, the clip-clap of her hooves falling softly on the carpeting. Up and up she leads you, to the second floor and to her personal room. It's as well-decorated as the rest of the establishment. Fine-tuned to be comforting and give an air of luxury. <<brandy>>"Well get all comfy! Need help with your clothes?"<</brandy>> She offers and doesn't wait for approval. Standing more than a head over you, it is soothing to be doted on by such a large girl. She helps you out of each piece of outerwear you have slowly and carefully until you're in naught but your undergarment. <<brandy>>"Oh my, what a body. You look exceptional, darling."<</brandy>> Her hands trace around your chest, going up and down them as she runs her fingers across you. You can feel her breasts press against your back, and her cock to your ass. Bit close for comfort, that lower bit. She has no potent male intent, and so it's merely a reminder that she's packing a bit of everything. She grasps your hand and guides you to the bed, but, leans over it. She bends her legs slightly and swishes her tail back and forth. She has to get a little lower so you can fuck her, of course, but it makes her no less appealing. <<brandy>>"Well, come ride your pony!"<</brandy>> She waggles her butt, finally flipping her tail over her back, exposing her butt and nethers. Just above her fat, full black-furred nuts is a horsepussy with soft pink lips and a thick, winking clit.<<if $class is "wizard">> Her scent is intoxicatingly thick, and confusingly male and female.<</if>> She winks at you with excitement, flashing her clit. Sat above that is a large, dark-hued horse's asshole to round out her set of animalistic junk. Wasting no time, you get up and alongside her, aiming your cock for her pussy. <<brandy>>"Oooh! Warm!" She says, reaching back a hand passed her own dick to help guide yours in.<</brandy>> It's appreciated, and with her aid, you're able to sink in deep into her wonderful warm whorehole. For a second your fears are realized, she is incredibly loose! Perhaps it should have been obvious, you think, an equine and a whore. But, your negative thinking doesn't get a chance to take root, as Brandy tightens up with control of her pussy that shocks and awes you. She grasps and tightens around your cock in individual segments, massaging it with masterful control of her kegel muscles. A moan of pleasure you hardly recognize as your own escapes your lips as your dick is assaulted by her pussy. <<if $virgin is true>>There is something deliciously lewd about having your first time not with just a hooker, but a dickgirl at that. Patting your nuts against her own as you have you first experience with a pussy is maddeningly arousing. You wonder if females without cocks feel any better or worse. As is, she feels incredible.<</if>> You clutch tight to her soft, plush ass, plunging deeper and slapping your balls against hers. Her horsecock stiffens with the fucking you're smacking into her from behind, straining the fabric of her lingerie. She has to hastily move it aside to let her dick drool freely to the floorboards as you fuck her. <<brandy>>"Ahuh~ Hitting just the right spots now.<<if $class is "fighter">> Were you a-- ah~ cavalryman?"<<else>>Like that, darling?"<</if>><</brandy>> An answer can't break through your moans, bending over her to really get into the fuck you're giving. Before you even realize it, an orgasm is riding up your dick. <<brandy>>"Sounds like you're close! Go on, finish inside, that's all yours~" She reaches around and pats your lower back.<</brandy>> The angle makes the pat weak, but the guiding hand helps much to involve you. A last few triumphant pumps and you're nutting inside her, exhaling with shudders of pleasure. Brandy turns her head, tilts her head, and smirks. <<brandy>>"Good 'un, eh? Lots of people ignore it on account of the cock~ Thanks for giving the old gal a nice hard ride. You felt wonderful!"<</brandy>> You pat her butt in reply, catching your breath... <<if $virgin is true>> <<set $virgin = false>>\ <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "Brandy">>\ <</if>> [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] <<set $playerCoins -= 30>> <<if $baratierStage is 7 and $hasJibook is false>> [[Try to sneak around and steal the book.|stealbook]] <</if>> The lounge is exceedingly comfy. Passing through the doors, it's as if a soothing bit of spellcraft has been woven over you.<<if $class is "wizard">> The air is heavy with a variety of musks and pheromones, entwined with smoke. The arousal of the people around you sets a sedate mood. These are cut down with a potpourri or perfume smell. Sweet, floral, womanly.<<else>> The air carries some natural anthro scents, and that of smoking tobacco. These are cut down with a potpourri or perfume smell. Sweet, floral, womanly.<</if>> A plethora of girls await, some free and some conversing in lewd tones to potential clients. Among them, you spot a borzoi, an equine herm, an older raccoon, a serval<<if $class is "fighter">>and something else. You think they're a female at first, but upon closer inspection, you realize it is a fidgety male vulpine.<<else>>.<</if>> There is also a bar, tended to by a dapper-looking caprine, horns bejeweled with silver bands. He is idly chatting to both workers and clients as he serves. [[Get a drink.|hitailbar]] [[Speak with Minerva, the borzoi.|minerva]] [[Speak with Florence, the raccoon.|florence]] [[Speak with Brandy, the horse.|brandy]] <<if $baratierStage is 5>> [[Speak with Athani, the serval.|athani]] <</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">>\ [[Speak with River, the fox.|riverprost1]] <</if>>\ <<if $baratierStage == 7 && $hasJiBook == false>>\ [[Speak with Athani, the serval.|athani2]] <</if>>\ [[Return.|hitail]]<<bara>>"Have you got my information? No? Then go get it," he waves you away to dismiss you.<</bara>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] You find Madame Stillblossom idling by the stairs to the second floor, speaking with a working girl. The girl and her both smile at you, and she sends the pretty young human away. <<ji>>"How can I help you, $name? Enjoying yourself?"<</ji>> <<linkreplace "The experienced Madame.">>\ <<include "stillpic">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ [[Ask her about the place.|jiplace]] [[Ask her about herself.|jiher]] [[Ask about her home.|jihome]] [[Ask where her office is.|jioffice]] [[Ask her if she knows Baratier.|jibaratier]] <<if $coinSpent >= 1000>>\ Ask if her services are available to you. <</if>>\ <<if $prostitute is false and $class is "wizard">>\ [[Ask about working at the High Tail.|wizprostyes]] <</if>>\ <<if $bunnyStage > 0>>\ [[Ask about the Bunnymasks.|jibunny]] <</if>>\ [[Return.|hitail]] The gambling hall in the High Tail, just like the other portions, is lacking in windows. The light here is dull and seedy, and entirely magically provided. Dim mage lights twinkle along the walls and each of the tables. Private tables lay in a section of their own. High rollers only based on the amount of coins at play and their impressive garments. The public portion is a lot more varied, and dingy. The raucous laughter, spilling of drink and coins, and general revelry is balanced by the deeply vigilant guards and dealers. Being sober, and observant, you notice how free it looks. But how kept in line it really is. <<if $playerDex <= 16>>You don't think you could slip anything past the dealers or guards, if you wanted to cheat using your sleight of hand.<<else>>Casing the guards and dealers, you realize you might be able to pull a few fast ones and cheat. If you have the guts.<</if>> You could stand to make a bit of coin with some luck. [[Join a table.|hitailplay]] [[Return.|hitail]]<<ji>>"You could make a lot of money, it's a smart and easy choice. What's your name, boy?"<</ji>> Madame Stillblossom beckons you upstairs, into the den of pleasure where you might be working soon. A strange feeling overcomes you as you follow her up the stairs, eyes pinned to her broad backside. Are you really doing this? You answer a few of her small talk questions as you ascend, your mind elsewhere. At the top of the stairs, she pauses for just a second, to make sure you're following. She proceeds, pleased you didn't get lost staring at her rump. She leads you down the tight corridor, flanked with doors, and smelling of sex. All the way to the opposite end's double doors. She opens them up and urges you into a soft and comfortable-looking bedroom. It's not quite like any of the other rooms the workers use. Not just in size but in furnishing and presentation too. It strikes you as a mixture of a living and bedroom. Intended for audiences of many guests, as well as the Madame's personal lounging. A round and low to the ground mattress lies in a sea of throw pillows and blankets. The slight twinge of sex's scent clings to everything around you. The amount of semen shot here exceeds all you've blasted into your hand by gallons, surely. Madame Stillblossom leaves you to stare a bit as she prepares something in the room. She goes hither and thither, gathering up supplies in the form of clothing and a few tiny wooden boxes. <<ji>>"Come, come to the bed, $name."<</ji>> Walking over to her feels like climbing into the jaws of a shark. How an old Panda bouncing one leg over another could be so intimidating is beyond you. <<if $virgin is true>>Something about her smug smile tells you she can read your inexperience.<</if>> <<ji>>"Get out of those robes, you won't be wearing them."<</ji>> The breath you take has a death rattle of fear to it. The Madame has broken in dozens of girls, and she'll break you too. All it takes for now, is her staring, and the tap of her fingers on her thigh. Your enchanted robes are striped and folded. Then, your tunic and trousers. The panties you decide to conceal under your clothes remain, and with them the small bulge of your junk. <<ji>>"Not much to speak of. You won't be using it often, don't worry." The statement makes your eyes flutter. "You're a $class. Is that correct?"<</ji>> You're surprised she can tell. However, the garments make it a little obvious. Her commanding disposition makes you squirm. <<ji>>"I can't allow you to potentially harm, exploit, or otherwise influence our customers."<</ji>> Whatever could she mean? She answers not, instead, calling out for Minerva. Entering from a side room, with an extreme elegance that immediately makes you shrink away from her, is a borzoi. Minerva is dressed in a tight vest that allows her nipples to prod forward. Her chest is modest compared to the Madame's, but equally as provocative. Her regal figure comes into extreme contest with her filthy profession, enhancing her appeal. Her svelte appearance is as curiously attractive as it is a bit odd. The combined suppressive stares of the two women have your fur tingling. Minerva holds up her hand, and dangling from the edge of her index finger is a small contraption. A metal shape that doesn't register immediately. Minerva smirks with malice and approaches. She is taller than you by quite some, and taller than the Madame. <<minerva>>"You're looking at it like it is foreign to you. Don't worry, it will be familiar soon."<</minerva>> "It's a chastity cage, $name, and enchanted by Minerva herself to suppress your mana. It'll make sure you won't be penetrating anything. Or letting that silly little thing get hard." Madame Stillblossom, when she sees your shocked expression, tilts her head. Her grin broads. "So, will you put it on peacefully, or will Minerva have to convince you?" The borzoi swings the circular portion of the cock cage around and around her index finger's claw. She closes in on you, your eyes darting between Minerva and Stillblossom. [[Agree, submit.|wizchas]] [Try to resist.] ''This option will be available later. It will feature a route that places you in debt to the brothel if you fail a willpower check - forcing you to work off your debt, and perhaps even be transformed along the way.''<<ji>>"Tsk, well. If you ever change your mind you know where to find me."<</ji>> [[Continue.|hitail]] <<set $prostitute to false>> Athani doesn't have the same aura as the others, it is more reserved. Almost predatory. Her speckled spots give her a camouflage that bewitched and distracts the eye even here. Her languid stalling shows that she is not actively chasing after clients. She isn't the most buxom or thickly proportioned, the felid has a splendid body. Athani, Madame Stillblossom had called her. A name that rolls from the tongue as smoothly as her coat lays to her form. Her shoulders and most of her fur are a beige-cream color, with black spots along the shoulders and back. Her perked ears sport an array of golden piercings in keeping with those on her nose and nipples. She is slightly more modestly dressed than some of the others. Even so, her tits are still on full display. They would easily fill your palms, and staring at them has you wondering how pleasing they'd be to grope. She sees you looking and saunters over. Her hips swaying this way and that, with her long and thin tail balancing her quiet approach. Her backhand brushes against your cheek, wordlessly draping herself over you. Her long whiskers tickle you as her chin finds a place on your shoulder. <<generic>>"I saw you giving me a look, sir. Might I interest you in my company?"<</generic>> <<generic>>"I can contort myself into pleasurable positions you could only dream of. Did you know I can eat out my own honeypot? I could show you."<</generic>> The possibilities of her springy body do have you curious. <<if $playerCoins >= 19>> [[Get a room with Athani.|athanisex]] <<else>> ''You need 20 gold for Athani's services.'' <</if>> [[Nevermind.|hitaillounge]] You spot a borzoi sitting alone at a table in the lounge. Doting on her are a series of people you quickly realize are clients. If not for the color coordination of her outfit, and the shabbiness of her servants, you'd have guessed she was some type of client herself. Standing starkly against her snow colored fur is a big, fluffy boa of black, laid across a red cocktail dress. Though the dress is tight and revealing, the borzoi has an elegant and slender figure that dazzles with its demureness rather than its lewdness. It dawns on you that this must be Minerva for certain. <<linkreplace "She deserves your gold more than you do.">>\ <<include "minervapic">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ She curls her index finger at you, ordering you closer. Her eyes cannot be denied and you find yourself ambulating toward her with the same ease as a floating cloud. <<minerva>>"Are you here to tribute?"<</minerva>> <<if $playerCoins >= 100>> [[Yes, give her a coin pouch of 100 gold.|minervapay]] <</if>> [[No, you're too poor.|minervawash]] <<if $playerTribute >= 100>> [[Worship her paws.|minervapawwors]] <</if>> <<if $playerTribute >= 200>> [[Masturbate before her.|minervacens]] <</if>> <<if $playerTribute >= 400>> [[Ask for a special reward.|minervareward]] <</if>> You've given Minerva $playerTribute gold. Florence isn't what you expected up close. Not particularly in a bad way either. She has an older woman's body, and the fur reflects that. Greyed at the tips, the black stripes fading. She looks incredibly soft, her fluffy raccoon fur just begs for your hands to be run through it. Her body is a bit pudgy and a bit saggy, her tits looking larger given that they hang slightly. Full and rounded, with darkish pink nipples obscured slightly by fur. The mask of her facial fur gives her a constant mischievous look. She holds all the confidence of a woman who knows exactly what she wants and has plenty of experience twirling men around her finger. Like the other working girls, she is only in very sparing clothing. Lingerie that keeps her nude and 'on display'. But not out of control. Few men dare approach her once she informs them that 'she' will be riding them with the assistance of a strap-on. You haven't seen her go more than a minute without taking a drag from a cigarette. <<if $playerCoins >= 29>> [[Get fucked by Florence.|florenceride]] <<else>> ''You need 30 gold for Florence's services.'' <</if>> [[Nevermind.|hitaillounge]] The bartender is dressed in a classy doublet. Floppy ears sit below a pair of curved, ridged horns. The sharp and attentive pair of eyes that track your features are about as unsettling as the rest of him is welcoming. He introduces himself as Osco and suggests you help yourself to the bowls of seeds and nuts on the bartop. They're free. He reminds you small snacks can be ordered from the kitchen at a reasonable price. And, if you like his service, to drop a gold in his tip jar. A bit of a blunt sales pitch, but the irreverent delivery is a little charming. <<if $playerCoins >= 3>> [[Alcohol! Something mild, a beer. (1 gold)|smolalchyhi]] [[Alcohol! Something stiff, a shot of Aquavitae. (2 gold)|bigalchyhi]] <<else>> ''They don't do tabs here.'' <</if>> [[Return.|hitaillounge]] You grasp at his thin wrist and make the maid take you to his room. His lewd feminine form is arousing, of course, but something more is fizzling in you. Some innate human desire to ram your cock down a sassy sissy fox's throat to treat him to a lesson in dominance. After all, it's your place as a man to show lesser males their station in life. This little fantasy has a smirk across your lips and by the time you're undoing your belt, you're absolutely radiant with smug. And yet, this upstart vulpine has you beat in that department. <<river>>"Why are you smiling like that?" He asks, with a blend of uncertainty and aloofness on his short muzzle.<</river>> He crawls up on the bed a bit, but you don't want him there. No, he talks too much. You'll have his mouth. <<linkreplace "A nearly vixen like figure.">>\ <<include "riverbutt1">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <<river>>"I'll try my best, but may I remind you I am quite new here. I am not exactly what you would call proficient in fellatio." He snorts a nerdy little, superior giggle, sinking to his knees and putting his hands on his thighs. "Although if we were to speak about my oral skills I was a teacher's aid at my academy. Tsk, it's because I knew the course's content so well, the professor and I were practically—"<</river>> Gods. Shut up. Stop talking. You grasp him by his jaw and stroke your cock to its complete erectness. Not that you'd know, but internally, he's comparing your length to his own locked-up dick. It's not just height and martial prowess you've got him beat in, suffice to say. With as much politeness as you can manage for this snooty fox, you warn him not to use any of those teeth. And, you dive your dick down his throat like you're trying to scrap his tonsils. Pushing the back of his head to the matress' corner, you really begin moving your hips forward. The brush of soft cheek fur and the warmth of his mouth provide all the physical sensory pleasure. But what gives you that special, internal satisfaction past the sexual, is his pin-prick pupils. Some look of shock on his face, 'How could this happen to me?' perhaps. And when that surprise has worn off and the taste of your penis has been rubbed all over his tongue, his drool on your balls, the stare he gives you speaks volumes to his silenced anger. Good, maybe this will be a nice lesson. Who pays a crossdressing fox for sex and wants to hear about his time at 'the academy'. Snoozefest! When you feel an edge really approaching, you grasp him by both of his ears and really begin humping at his face. You fuck some humility into him, the wet and sticky remains of the saliva and pre stuck to his cheeks. Soon to be joined by your semen. With some final grunts, you blow a few ropes down his throat, pulling out just in time to get the last few streaks of nut across his face. Mostly the snout and lips, but he's forced to wince an eyelid shut, a sticky string of cum laying across it now. A broad grin plasters itself across your face and you can't quite shake it. With silence between the two of you hanging thick in the air, you clean off your shaft with a nearby towel and chuckle a goodbye to him. [[Continue.|hitail]] <<set $playerCoins -= 30>> <<if $baratierStage is 7 and $hasJibook is false>> [[Try to sneak around and steal the book.|stealbook]] <</if>> You follow behind Athani, she grasps your hand and leads you up a staircase to the private rooms on the second floor. Smiles are cast over her shoulder as the sway of her tail hypnotizes you into a pleased lull. "Like this thing? Imagine it wrapped around your shoulders while I'm swallowing your cock," she growls, the black-furred tip tracing one of your cheeks. Athani opens the door to her private room and rattles her claws on the nightstand. The sound beckons the clink of coins to follow. You pay up, as per custom, and find yourself instantly being unraveled by Athani. You pause and tell her to slow down, mentioning that Baratier sent you. She freezes and looks very relieved, exhaling and falling back to the bed. She leaves you with your shirt half untucked and collar flared, abandoning her undressing of you. <<generic>>"Why didn't he just come himself?"<</generic>> You can't speak to that, but something tells you he doesn't do his own chores. Athani flees with haste from the bed to fetch something, a letter folded but not sealed. Her claws pinch the paper and she waggles it at you. "Take it." Looking it over, back and forward, the parchment feels well-worn and crumbled many times over. You ask what it is, and Athani seems a little cagey, and annoyed. <<generic>>"A lot. Little rumors, the ledger books, stuff I heard. Did he say I am done with this assignment?"<</generic>> He didn't mention it to you, and the look she gives makes you wish he had. A snarling, fang-baring hiss. Her twitching whiskers settle eventually and she shakes her head firmly. [[Ask if she'll still fuck you.|athanifuck]] [[Take the letter and leave.|athanitalk]] <<set $playerCoins -= 20>> Athani scowls at you something fierce, the energy of a cat who's decided her belly is done being scratched. Nevertheless, she takes a deep breath and nods. <<generic>>"Undress and lay on the bed, and be quick about it."<</generic>> Excited to get what you paid for, you follow her charge. She climbs atop you like a pummel horse, the points of her claws just barely nicking your chest. Athani grasps at your junk with fervence. It scares you a moment, just how she intends to handle your package. Her butt, she plants squarely on your face, patting down her nether lips on your <<if $class is "wizard">>snout<<else>>nose<</if>> and mouth. "All this and you still want your money's worth is that it? Oh, I'll give it to you!" Athani snarls, and you suddenly feel the fear of death - what with her grappling your cock and balls. Her scrubber-brush of a tongue rolls around and around <<if $class is "wizard">>your sheathe, coaxing your cock from it<<else>>your penis <</if>>with a bizarre mixture of pleasure and pain that has you pushing at her hips. <<generic>>"Stay put you filthy mutt! Pent up, are you? I'll satisfy you."<</generic>> She grinds her butt against your face with passion, her tail circling around your neck like a noose. It doesn't tighten, not at all, but the tickling has you on the back foot. What's more, the ravenous suckling at your dick is draining the strength from your arms. Overstimulation would be putting it lightly, the spines of her tongue tickling the delicate nerves of your frenulum and glans. The pleasure is unbearable, so white-hot, you aren't sure if you want to beg her to stop or plead for her to continue. You couldn't one way or the other what with her muff muffling you entirely. She grinds this way and that, slathering your maw in her fluids, getting her tang across your lips and tongue when you moan out against her fur. <<if $class is "wizard">><<generic>>"You call this a cock you runt? It's a stub, you couldn't get a girl to look at it without waving a coin bag around, could you?"<</generic>><<else>><<generic>>-"I bet you think you're really something, hm? That all of us anthros love human cocks. Well, not me." <</generic>><</if>>She grasps at your balls, lightly squeezing them. And then the squeezing gets heavier. Once more Athani is hellbent on giving you a hellish mixture of pain and pleasure. The tender feeling makes the throbbing and impending orgasm all the more dire. Just as you try pushing her off again, you nut. Her sucking and bobbing reach an extreme tempo that compels you to finish down her mouth. And she swallows greedily, the gluk-gluk'ing of her throating not pausing a moment. The pleasure, the pumping of your hips up at her feline lips, is awash with this overbearing stimulation. The swirl and roll of her rough tongue stops not once through your nutting. Not until she's having to hold you down with her butt because you wish for it to halt. You roll your <<if $class is "wizard">>footpaws <<else>>feet <</if>>at the ankles in some attempt to exorcise the feeling. Finally, with an awful pop, she suddenly throws her head back. She tumbles off you, her tail swirling free from your neck. <<generic>>"Now go on, take that damn letter."<</generic>> Time is up, and Athani hurries you out, urging you to ask Baratier when she can leave this assignment. You clutch at the letter and redress yourself with haste. [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] <<set $baratierStage to 6>> Athani insists you wait a while to make it look more legitimate. And, to preserve the honor of your stamina. You nod, it's a good idea. <<generic>> After some awkward silence, she breaks the ice. "So how did you start working for him?"<</generic>> You regale Athani with the tale of how you fell into Baratier's service. She questions you about if there was anything odd about signing onto his employ. But you can't quite recall anything in particular. Why she is asking, and how she joined, is what you probe her on next. <<generic>>"Something about it was just funny, I'm not sure. I guess I was drinking but..." She cups her forehead. "Anyway, if you must know, I had a few debts he agreed to pay off. Going from dancing in a court to this." She frowns deeply.<</generic>> Time is up, and Athani hurries you out, urging you to ask Baratier when she can leave this assignment. You promise to do so, and give her your farewells. [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] <<set $baratierStage to 6>><<ji>>"Well, what is there to know? Have you ever heard of Shi-jia?"<</ji>> <<if $class is "wizard">>You have indeed. In your studies at the academy, you read a few passages about that distant territory and its foreign customs. Home to pandas, cranes, and tigers. Supposedly coexisting in harmony. You express some doubts about that. <<ji>>"More right than you know."<</ji>> You allow a self-satisfied smirk to part your lips. <<else>> The empty expression on your face when she says that complex word clues her into your lack of knowledge. <<ji>>"It's a shady place filled with posturing, pathetic nitwits. Constant bickering between factions all trying to maintain face. All stagnating and resting on past laurels to prop up current decadence."<</ji>> <</if>> <<ji>>"I moved here when I was a young girl. I was 'taken in' by the previous Madame. She had a special liking for me. Taught me everything I know which I passed onto the girls here." She exhales with an almost nostalgic lilt.<</ji>> <<ji>>"Running a place like this back home would be impossible. Here it is a breeze, and I can do it so openly too. I can only imagine the bribes you'd have to dole out. No, no." She waves her hand to emphasize, shaking her head.<</ji>> A malignance falls over her features, and her tone becomes one rife with mocking falsehood. <<ji>>"And what a tragedy befell her, poisoned some say. I think she was just getting old. Good fortune had me in the right place at the right time to inherit the business. Didn't even need that many bribes. Just a few blowjobs to the right men."<</ji>> She licks her lips with an exaggerated flair, but doesn't spoil her lipstick at all. <<ji>>"What else can I help you with?"<</ji>> [[Continue.|hitailjitalk]] You join a table with a free space. The smell of sweat, fear, and booze is rich here. The grubby-looking cohort around you pays you little mind. And given their state of being you're inclined to return the favor. The dealer is a lithe cat in a dapper dress done up to highlight her figure in a tasteful way. She deals the cards to all those present with dexterity and speed that gives you pause, her claws grasping and flicking them toward you. They land, face down and perfectly straight, before you and the others. Inspecting your cards, it seems like you have a decent hand... <<if $playerCoins >= 14>> <<set _psg to either( 'results1', 'results2', 'results3', 'results4', )>>\ <<link 'Bet 15 gold on a hand of cards.' _psg>><</link>> <<else>> ''There is a 15 coin minimum buy-in to play.'' <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Try to count cards and cheat.|hitailplaycc]] <</if>> You've got a mind like a steel trap, nothing gets passed you. Why should 'gambling' be any different? You bide your time, waiting and calling through a few hands until you've got the perfect setup. You bet big, and win big! A whole pot of fifty gold. You best not try something like that for a while. ''Currently, there are no ramifications for repeated card counting. There will be in the future.'' [[Return.|hitail]] <<set $playerCoins += 50>> You just barely eke out a win, having drawn a better hand than the dealer by a long shot. Another player at the table almost edges you out, but Lady Luck is draped around your shoulder this hand. The drunkard closest to beating you, at the other end of the table, slams his hand down on the wood and stands. The bloodshot look he gives you has more than an ounce of aggression to it. His shoulder is quickly grabbed and he is shoved back onto his stool by a nearby bouncer. That takes the piss and vinegar out of him, and you're left to enjoy the success. You won your bet back and more! [[Continue.|hitailgamble]] <<set $playerCoins += 15>> You barely lose, someone else cinches the round with a better set of cards. The jesters on your cards seem to be smirking tauntingly at you, the bastards. You lose your bet. [[Continue.|hitailgamble]] <<set $playerCoins -= 15>> You win by a landslide. Another player pats you on the back in congratulations. The dealer's tired, sore expression gives you a bit of amusement, but you wonder why she cares at all. Do they get penalized if players win? Tossing a glance over your shoulder at the door, you consider the lounge and prostitutes across the hall. If the dealer lets too many gamblers win, is her ass on the line - literally? You won your bet back and more! [[Continue.|hitailgamble]] <<set $playerCoins += 15>> You lose in a complete blowout. The hand enrages another player so bad they storm from the table, leaving behind a few coins they hurriedly return to collect. The winner looks very smug. [[Continue.|hitailgamble]] <<set $playerCoins -= 15>> With hesitation you submit, allowing Minvera to bend down between your legs. She grasps your ball pouch and strokes it down, away from your body. With needed roughness, she slides the ring around your testicles and then the sheath itself. You're too slow to get hard but there is arousal in seeing her place the contraption on your sheath and seal it away. The second the cage is clicked together with the base, there is a slight arcane spark. A magical lock. By instinct, you go to probe it with an identifying spell and find that nothing comes. Your mana is sealed and locked! A tingling tickles your perineum, making the fur there stick out in reply. Minerva smiles and rises above you, tall and proud of her craft. <<minerva>>"I laid the runes to the metal, they'll suppress your arcane arts wholly. Do you feel naked without them, $name?"<</minerva>> <<ji>>"Whatever nakedness he feels it won't be for long," the Madame cuts in, patting the garments beside her.<</ji>> At a glance, it's a uniform much like many of the girls that work here wear. A maid's outfit, of sorts. Your tail curls between your legs to hide your caged shame. The Madame insists you wear your new uniform, and you're no longer in a position to refuse. The material is a little lacking compared to your expensive usual garments. Not a surprise, you are a hooker now. And not a high-class one. You begin dressing yourself under their watch. Stockings go over your footpaws, with a stirrup on your pawpads that leaves your claws free. The sheer black material holds to your fluffy fur and gives a pleasant indentation that men will surely like. Up next is a skirt that is far too short on the end of a maid's blouse. The traditional white is replaced with a light red to better fit the aesthetic of the club, offering a darker look to it all that betrayed any innocence a maid's uniform may have brought. The skirt is long enough only to obscure some of your cock's cage, revealing the tip of your junk to any customers or people you may find. <<ji>>"I assure you the work is easy, the clients will mostly do what they want to you. But for the time being, you'll just work the floor with Osco."<</ji>> You squint, and she clarifies. <<ji>>"The goat, the bartender."<</ji>> [[Continue.|barwork]] <<set $prostitute to true>> The din of combat carries through the woods. The ruined roads marred by frost heaves suddenly feeling foreboding. You brace yourself and take a second to place the sound. The air is still and carries no particular smells of blood or otherwise. You detect the sound is coming from further down the path. If you are feeling fiesty you could investigate it. However, it's a real skirmish. There is more than a few people fighting. Summoning up some courage, you keep yourself low and scout forward. Off the beaten path and into the woods, you're not surprised when the treeline begins to shift with the movement of people. A battle! A minor one, at least. A screen of scouts clashing with the enemy. A mercenary corps, from the Yellow Stripes, is crossing blades with native boars. It isn't looking good for the Yellow Stripes, their dead and injuried strew between bushes and rolled down hills. Madame Stillblossom leads you up to your room and alerts you that you've got a special client. What could be more special than the usual, you wonder? Sitting on the bed and being idle starts to wear on you. Over and again you fidget with the corset and stockings the Madame has you in. Worse yet, the squeezing of the cage on your sheath. Without any thought behind it, your hand slides down your thigh and begins cupping for the cage. The magical tingling is driving you up the wall, scrambling your thoughts, and putting you in an irritatingly juvenile haze of arousal. The door creaks open, and all that special pomp becomes clear. It's Minerva. Her slender, imposing presence silences you immediately. With the door quickly shut behind her, she hushes you with a finger over her lips. Her lips are painted with a deep red you've not seen on her before. <<minerva>>"Turn around, on all fours."<</minerva>> You linger on watching her for a moment but no longer. Her glare is withering, and you're in no place to defy her. The sound of a bag of coins being placed on the table makes your ears twitch. So she's paying for the time, is that it? Possibilities loop through your head, what did she want you on all fours for? It occurs to you suddenly you've not seen her in the nude. Is she packing heat, like Brandy? You shudder to think. When her hand comes to your ass to spread it, you're expecting the worst! Wincing your eyes shut and clutching at the bed sheets, you expect penetration. Not tonguing. Without any build-up, Minerva begins making out with your asshole. Wet, warm, her slippery tongue running circles around your puckering hole. The sensation is sublime, and it has your throat singing tunes. Moaning and growling. The feeling is so intense you naturally pull away from her. Minerva barks an order to stay put, grasping at your hips and tugging you back on her muzzle. The chalky feeling of her lipstick painting the tender flesh of your tail hole gives you shivers. The depravity of knowing she is the one eating your ass, and paying for it, only amplifies the wonderful work she's doing back there. Your prostate is demanding more, and as your cage begins dripping pre, your prostate gets its request. Minerva gently snakes her tongue a bit further in. You can feel your flesh indented by the grasping of Minerva as she buries her muzzle close. <<linkreplace "Does lipstick stain fur?">>\ <<include "riverbutt2">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ The torment goes on and on, part of you praying she'd try these techniques on your cock. Your urgent panting cuts short whatever meager thoughts your mind tries to drum up. Minutes, seconds, you can't keep track of them with your sensitive asshole being attacked by a professional. The tickle of her sniffing and wiggling of her tongue has you whooping in pleasure, an orgasm feels like it's right there. She just needs to move faster, harder, just a little more. A bit more tongue-fucking of your rear and— <<minerva>>She stops. "That will be enough."<</minerva>> Minerva stands, and without her propping you up, you fall to your side panting as if you've run a lap. The edged-out arousal has you humping at the sheets and looking at her with begging eyes. She pats gently pats the lipstick from her lips with a handkerchief, and tosses the bit of fabric at you. Without another word, Minerva leaves. [[Continue.|madamepayout]] At the end of your 'shift,' you report to the Madame's office, eager to collect what you worked so hard for. Moreover, to get the chastity cage off your dick. Madame Stillblossom arduously counts out a meager sum from what you earn, pushing it over to you. A half-defeated, half-exasperated expression falls over your face. The Madame drinks in your discomfort. <<ji>>"If you don't like it, I can keep the gold and your key. How does that sound?<</ji>> Hurriedly you say it's fine, unlocking yourself and dressing in your normal clothes. All in all, you made twenty gold. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 20>> <<if $baratierStage is 7 and $hasJibook is false>> [[Try to swipe the book before you leave.|booksteal]] <</if>> Osco is incredibly forthcoming. However, something about his floppy ears, horizontal pupils, and foreign accent have you on the back-paw. Most of your duty is looking pretty, flashing your bits if a client tips, and fetching items. The majority of the drink mixing and fraternizing, Osco does. What you get to silently grit and bare through is every attendee commenting on you, the new 'girl'. It makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment under the fur. They stare at you, some hungrily, some with disinterest, and all talk about you like you're not there. More than once an old, balding human male gives a tip to grasp and squeeze under your skirt, while you have to smile and endure. Osco gives you your cut of the tips, a small portion compared to his. And a few parting words. <<generic>>"Not so bad today, boy. Try to smile more, and when you reach for things really stretch for them. Remember this. You're always on display."<</generic>> He smacks your ass and sends you off to the Madame, leaving you to contemplate if this line of work is really for you. <<ji>>The Madame sees you out. "Good work today. Why not try working out from behind the bartop next time, see if you can lure some men away from the coin, hm?"<</ji>> She hands you a small fistful of coins. You made fifteen in total. She almost 'forgets' to give you the key to your chastity cage. And she takes her time unlocking you. She takes far too much pleasure in you being locked up. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 15>> Your next client is a horse. Tall and broad, covered in muscles apparently earned from years of hard work in local quarries. He's saved his gold and bided his time, eager to have a hard-earned fuck. It dawns on you that your prostate will be the punching bag he beats all his anger out on. You aren't sure he'll fit, but the Madame nor the client wants to hear any of your complaints, and you're practically strong-armed up to your room. After undressing, the equine strokes himself to hardness and rubs his dick's tip all over your cage, his head throbbing and flaring with expectancy. His harsh, basic attempts at being flirtatious go completely past your perked little ears. They twitch in some strange mix of arousal and fright. You feel like a kit under the touch of his rough hands, exploring the lithe form of your chest and nudging you back onto the bed. His clear cock-slime slathers your chastity cage, the runes glimmering on the contraption with each of your dicks stirring motions. The slap of a massive rod of horse meat against your tummy makes you nervously spring forward a few degrees. But the equine miner's hand is there to keep your shoulder parallel to the quilt, holding you there. <<generic>>"Relax, I'll be gentle."<</generic>> The miner pulls his hips back and holds your thighs up, pointing your asshole at his cock tip. Taking one hand off the ginger fur of your stocking-covered thighs, he guides himself in. Your eyes go wide and whole body clenches, no way he'll fit! But, by some madness, he does. He pushes his flared, massive flat-tipped cockhead into your rear with relative ease. Then, it dawns on you. What clues you in is the tickle of your fur. That cage was not only restraining your mana but also rerouting it. Pouring it into an enchantment that must surely make your asshole easier to fuck. Your scholarly interest in the mechanics doesn't have time to blossom, because as much as it may make it easier, it removes none of the feeling. You look down at your tummy with fretful surprise as the bulge of his horse cock rolls in and out of your guts to extremely sublime accolades from your nethers. The pleasure bead buried in your butt makes your caged dick tingle with excitement as it's compressed by his twitchy meat. Your client's thick, wide cock produces a soothing fullness in your backside you wish for more of. Before you know it, you're grabbing at the sheets and getting into it, the miner neighing over you. Loud, horsey huffs blow exhales down at your mane as he gets closer to filling your belly with his seed. By the time he does, you're begging for it and he's loving every second. What snaps you out of your daze is the sudden flare of his dickhead and the rush of warm, gooey semen in your ass. How you managed to get so 'into' servicing another man gives you a small amount of discomfort. What's more is just how close you were to busting in your cage. With a rough pat on your hip, he leaves you alone and oozing cum onto the sheets. You look over to the pile of coins on the table. Was it worth it? [[Continue.|madamepayout]]<span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'clarissa.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'minerva.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'brandy.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'florence.png']]</span><span class="img800">[img[setup.img + 'stillblossom.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'riverwhorehousekm.png']]</span><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'riverwhorehouse.png']]</span><<if $class is "thief">>\You pay your due and are presented with a full bodied mug of beer. Your short and triangular nose gives a few sniffs of the beverage before you gives the barkeep a suprised, pleased coo of approval. You take your time with your drink, enjoying it slowly and savoring each gulp. Cold, just sudsy enough. And with plenty of salty, savory nuts and seeds on offer to enjoy it with. The beer may have been good, but is it worth paying for? Fuck. No. When the time is right, you take your coin back. And one from the tip jar. It isn't your responsibility to subsidize the wages of underpaid servers. [[Continue.|hitailbar]] <<set $playerCoins += 1>> <<else>>\ You pay your due and are presented with a beer. You take a few drags of it, the foam catching to your lip. It's cold, refreshing and not too carbonated! A woman comes up behind you, a human, and bumps into you. Her hair is bouncy and bright with a reddish hue to it, falling on her pale cheeks and outlining her amused and slightly dazed expression. She gives you a sincere sorry and smirks. She pays off her tab and gives a tip to Osco before lingering and staring at you. You don't mind, you'd say something but you're distracted by her form. A purple silken tunic tucked tightly into black trousers barely conceals her breasts. The outline of piercings on her nipples is visible, a bar through each. She catches you looking and dips forward a bit, giving you a better peek at her cleavage. "Haven't I seen you before? You look very familiar." She turns her head, looking you over like you're a marble statue in a forum. "I always remember the handsome men I bump into. I wish I had time to chat but I was on my way out. Enjoy yourself!" Just as quickly as she presents herself, she disappears. She had quite a liberated disposition. <<set $playerCoins -= 1>> [[Continue.|hitailbar]] <</if>><<if $class is "thief">>\ It is no surprise that you see the barkeep pull up one of the lovely decanters of alcohol from Galendoria to the north. The frosted bottle appears half full, the clear liquid flowing smoothly from the thin neck. He pours you a shot. The perfect drink for an establishment like this. You drain it in a single stroke, admiring the taste. Clear, harsh flavor that settles to the tongue for only a second. The buzz would be along soon, if you were a lightweight. Sadly it takes a few more than that to get you going anymore. <<set $playerCoins -= 2>>\ [[Continue.|hitailbar]] <<else>>\ The barkeep pulls out a fancy bottle of frosted glass, with a fat bottom and long, thin neck. He sloppily pours out a shot, just a dribble being wasted to the wood. You take the shot glass tentatively to hand and down it. Harsh, burning, pungent alcohol taste fills your mouth and nose. That would be enough for now, you think. A buzz should briefly settle in soon. <<set $playerCoins -= 2>> [[Continue.|hitailbar]] <</if>> She looks at you appraisingly, and then at the bag of coins behind you. Payment is placed on the dresser's top, as per proper etiquette. For being next to a woman who is undressed, you feel quite exposed. The environment does put you at ease a little, a well-adorned hotel room. A large bed with comfortable enough sheets. Good a place as any for what you're about to experience. She strikes a match, lighting a hand-rolled cigarette, and taking a drag. The smoke swirled with the noon-day sunlight peeking through the curtains behind her. <<generic>>"So," she says, her throat husky and rough, "getting your ass fucked."<</generic>> You clarify by adjusting her statement to the far less blunt term 'pegging'. She smirks, her thin snout and rounded nose turning up as she looks down on you. <<generic>>"You want me to put a strap-on around my waist and ride you like a bitch, don't be shy about it~" She cackles, her throat raspy with years of nicotine.<</generic>> <<generic>>She takes another drag and exhales, the scent of burning paper and tobacco washing over you. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle enough."<</generic>> She flicks her cigarette, ashing it in a nearby tray. This is all rote, common, and normal. It makes it a little more exciting, just how cheap and dirty it all is. <<generic>>"Undress and sit on the bed for me, will you?"<</generic>> You nod and do so. Popping your butt on the bed meets you with a weird texture, lumpy and rough. You sit up to find it's a towel, weirdly enough. You move that aside for now. While stripping down to your birthday suit, you cast a glance over at Florence to see what she's doing to prepare herself. She isn't trying to be enticing, but you can hardly decline to appeal of seeing her bend over. Her fuzzy rump doesn't offer you any delicious details aside from the curve of her posterior, but that's enough. She steps into and pulls up a strap on that she tugs tightly along her waist. Leather straps and buckles get tightened along each hip, indenting to the fur lewdly as the harness is affixed. When she turns her body, she takes a drag of her cigarette, pointing the smooth and featureless cock now hiding her pussy toward you. <<linkreplace "Intimidating tools.">>\ <<include "florencepic">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ It's about the size and thickness of yours which makes it a lot less intimidating. She must have noted your inspection of her, as she strokes it a few times She turns and grasps something from the dresser top beside her, a jar. Holding her cigarette by her lips alone, she unscrews the top. When she opens the small glass container, the scent of it fills the room. It's quite pleasant, your nose can detect the viscosity and the pleasant notes which remind you of tea curiously enough. She scoops a healthy amount into her hand and strokes it onto her artificial cock, slickening her entire shaft with the glistening stuff. Each stroke, and each step she takes towards you, makes this all the more real. She puts out her cigarette on a tray next to you. "Looking a little pale, having second thoughts? It's only a fake dick, don't sweat it~" She gets alongside you beside the bed, her soft fur grazing your inner thighs as she confidently gets between your legs. "So, how do you want it? On your back so I can stick my tongue down your throat, or on your belly like a dog?" Before you can answer she's already nudging on your shoulder with her hand, guiding you to lay back on the pillows. "We can do both. See which one you like more." You agree, happy to get to watch her work for this first try. She spreads your legs, slowly, getting them spaced out, and running her clean hand up your <<if $class is "fighter">>smooth legs.<<else>>furry legs.<</if>> With the excess lube not on her strap-on, she tenderly rubs some to your asshole, even the pressure of her padded fingers makes your eyes flutter. With her other hand, she begins caressing your half-hard dick, getting up to full erectness soon. "It'll hurt a little, right at the start. Promise it ain't bad after. Now relax, and push a bit, eh? It'll make this easier." You push past the odd feeling of having to push, turning your eyes away from her in the slightest flash of embarrassment. Florence sticking her finger up your ass makes you look right back at her. There is a slight bit of pain which makes you wince, but not bad enough for you to do more than exhale. And, it doesn't feel too bad. She presses the digit in deeper, and then another. The slightly filling feeling only makes you want a bit more. Her skilled probing of your prostate alongside her handjob has you tingling from shaft to tip in moments, and relaxes what tension was built up in your body. "You feel calmer, looser, that's good. Now I can fuck you proper." She withdraws her fingers and brushes off the lube with that towel on the bed. Before you can protest too much, in slips her affixed dildo, thrusting herself forward slowly by without pause. And it hurts! There is pain, enough to wince and want to wiggle, but she soothes you with graceful tracing of her fingers to your thighs and belly. "Relax, relax," she says softly, leaning forward to smother you with fluffy tits. She's fully hilted in just a second and remains there, resting. The pain passes, it's more an intense dullness than anything else, and despite that the sensation of her cool shaft quickly warming felt quite nice. When she thinks you're ready for it, she tries pulling back and thrusting. The smile on her exposes her own personal joy at breaking you in. Even if she is being exceptionally gentle. You clutch at the sheets with one hand, the other taking the time to rub up her pudgy belly and grope one of her tits. The feeling of her strap-on gliding in and out in controlled, evenly-paced thrusts is just as exhilarating as you intended it to be. Her weight upon your body, picking your legs up to get a deeper angle, rolling the smooth shaft against your prostate again and again. "Now you know how we feel~" A short breathless chuckle comes from you, before you can make a remark, her humping knocks the words from you. "Hush, boy, momma is fucking your ass." Oooh, very good. That felt good to hear. She gets a handle on your joystick again and begins more urgently tugging you off. A firm and thorough handjob that when combined with her perfectly aimed thrusts, made the feeling of an orgasm ready to burst just sit at the tip of your dick. The tip tingling of the prostate stimulation was delightful enough that you couldn't hold back the moans slipping from your lips. Watching her body shake and thrust against yours, her tits flop forward and back as she fucks your ass, it's a unique and refreshing sight. She leans over, keeping pace with her hip motions, and grabs for her cigs and matches. With the strike of a match, she lights another smoke, shaking out the fire's tip and tossing it to the ashtray. Florence inhales and exhales her smoke, all while stroking you off with the other hand and rutting your rear with a tempo bourne of two decades of experience. You could lay back and enjoy the ride like the pillow princess she was making you into. The pudge of her tummy and flop of her tits while she rocked her lower half juxtaposed against her stiff and superior expression. She leans over and ashes her cig, tapping the end of it. "Alright, kid. How about we get a little rougher?" She withdraws herself with a wet little plop. And pain isn't on the mind, but desire. Your ass suddenly feels empty, and a bit lonely. That strange pleasure in your cock is fading quick.. As you savor it, you think on its unique notes. More internal than the surface level brought about by more conventional stimulation. Reaching over you, your instructor in this new field of pleasure fetched a collar linked to a leash. The leash was thin, a strip of leather attached to a leather collar, both dyed black. She nudges you with her hands and hushed orders to roll on your belly, which wins you a 'good boy'. Around your neck, the collar is clasped, and she tests it with a few tugs, forcing you to produce a hiccup sound as the air is squeezed from you. "That's cute, be sure to make that sound when you cum." Then, Florence put her weight on you. That feeling of her atop you is followed by that lube-covered faux-dick slipping between your cheeks again. Your eyes go wide not with fear nor distaste but anticipatory apprehension. Your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths as she slides herself in. The pain this time isn't even worth noting, and in due time Florence was back to her medium pace but you get the sense she's going to ramp it up. She tugs on your collar, pulling your neck back. Through half-parted lips, talking past her cigarette, she says, <<if $class is "fighter">>"Why don't you bark for me, slut? Go on, throw away that humanity like you're throwing away your dignity."<<else>>"Look at you, getting defeated, slut. Aren't you meant to be a prey animal?"<</if>> Your skin falls flush, and the rocking of her body from this position is massaging your prostate with even more directness than before. In addition, your cock is pressed between your belly and the soft sheets, stimulating you atop everything else. <<if $class is "fighter">> "I don't hear a bark, go on!" She yanks the collar again, cutting your breath short. "Look at you, a hole for me to bury this strapon in. Mmm, I do love seeing a human put in his place." You obey her command to bark, not just to follow her lead but also because you cannot deny the building pleasure of submitting to her. On your belly, it's hard to, but you try your best now and then to turn your head back to look at her. <</if>> The soft, fluffy feeling of her fur and fat against your thighs, butt and sides is wonderful. It was like being cuddled while having your butt filled. And the groping of your body, your ass, your shoulders, it all makes you feel very much like the slut she's saying you are. Her hands, when not holding your hips for stability, run up and down your back. Tickling, claw-tapping touches roll up your shoulders and spine. A possessed, owned feeling overcomes you. "Now howl, nice and loud, so everyone can hear you. Let them know you're giving your ass up to some old Raccoon." Your howl is cut in the middle as if by a sneeze, with your orgasm creeping up on you out of nowhere. A feeling like you're going to piss is replaced immediately with the tense, squirting feeling of an orgasm, shooting your seed against the sheets. To her credit, not that you have the brains to thank her as the prostate orgasm rolls through you, Florence reacts to your release. She backs up a bit, not pausing that fucking of your backside for a second, and reaches around to stroke your cock and squeeze out every milliliter of nut your balls see fit to shoot. She makes a few final tugs and then pulls out, sitting on her butt, and helping you roll over. You splay your legs out on the free space, looking up to her with satisfaction plastered on every detail of your face. She pats your belly with her clean hand and puts out her cig with the other. She brushes clean your cum now on her towel, but on you, rubbing her hand across your belly. "I believe that's yours, I'd tell you to lick it up, but we're short of time." She stands, strap-on bouncing between her legs in a slight jiggle as she does. "Up ye get, you okay? No pain?" With a satisfied smile and silent nod you clue her in that you're alright. Despite the flush face and panting. You get yourself together and leave, feeling a bit 'used' but also quite relaxed. [[Continue.|hitail]] <<set $playerCoins -= 30>> <<if $baratierStage is 7 and $hasJibook is false>> [[Try to sneak around and steal the book.|stealbook]] <</if>> You recall Becca mentioning a faulty enchantment on her larder and ask if she'd be willing to pay for a repair. <<becca>>"I don't have too much gold. If you've got the know-how on fixing up that old thing... Well, I'd be mighty grateful. Bit of gold and how's about a ride from an old cowgirl?"<</becca>> That sounds enticing, you could go for that. A cooling enchantment is well within your ability. <<if $virgin is true>>And the notion of getting some time between Becca's legs is making you swoon, you haven't had the pleasure of a woman yet. <<else>>And the notion of getting some time between Becca's legs is making you swoon. <</if>>While mulling over what the problem might be, you give an appraising look at Becca's body. She sees you looking, and hoping to entice you further, tugs down her tunic to reveal more of her cleavage. Soft, milky white fur splotched with prints. <<if $virgin is true>><<becca>>"I'd be happy to have such a handsome little vulpine between my thighs. I've given plenty of young men their first times."<</becca>> You give her a shocked look, how could she tell? <<becca>>"A lady can always tell. Don't be shy, I think it's adorable."<</becca>> <</if>> <<if $virign is false>><<becca>>"I'd be happy to have such a handsome little vulpine between my thighs. I've given plenty of young men good times."<</becca>><</if>> You ask if she can take you to the larder, and she's happy to show you over to it. It's, at first glance, nothing but a larder. The dazzling invisible twinkle of the mystic arts lays over the area though. Enchanted, just as she said. You kneel to get a closer look at it all. Jugs of chilled milk, cheese, produce, and even meat are all being kept safe and cool. Becca catches you looking at the bits of steak and explains they're treats for Herrold. <<becca>>"He's a great help, even if I gotta tell him what to do again and again."<</becca>> The larder's enchantment, you begrudgingly admit, is crafty conceptually. An infused mana gem collects ambient chill on cold nights and days, storing it and emitting it in a controlled manner during times of heat. It's faulty, hastily made, and probably produced en masse. Commercial magic, in many ways, makes you downright sick. Applying your mystical skills for what? Petty profit and favors. You shake your head, just the thought of it irritates you. Your eyes flutter, catching your thought and the hypocrisy of it. With a turn of your neck, you look up at Becca, as if she can read your mind and judge you for your contradiction. Luckily she isn't a psychic and just gives you a little smile. The repair won't take any time at all. Seems the gem itself needed a refreshing of its enchantment, you tell her it should last a few more months but it's only a patch job. If she wants something more permanent, she'll have to explore other options or cough up a few more coins. She nods through all of your technical jibberish with a glassy-eyed expression. Probably the same face she gave the original craftsman. <<becca>>"So, it'll work now?"<</becca>> It'll work, and it'll hold through the summer, or it's your tail. Her large, but gentle hand gives you a comforting rub between the ears. <<becca>>"So you want your gold now?"<</becca>> [[Just the gold, thank you.|fridgerepairg]] [[The gold, and the extra.|fridgerepairf]] <<set $fridge to true>><<becca>>"Alrighty, if you say so."<</becca>> Becca is a bit disappointed, and she offers to let you empty your balls in her two other times. But you really just want the coin and move on. For your trouble, she gives you a few more gold for a total of twenty-five. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $playerCoins += 25>> She is overjoyed to get you that second prize. She lifts you up by the wrist and leads you to her bedroom. Not one for careful teasing, she gets herself in the nude quite readily. Her firm body is wonderful in its bare form. The scent she's carrying is splendid too, the calming scents of mown grass, milk, and farm work. All with the subtle musk of an older bovine woman. Before you can set any pace, or really say much of anything, Becca sticks her hands under your arms and throws you on the bed. She pulls up your shirt, and sticks her hands down your pants. <<becca>>"Where is that cute little thing?" She says with a mischievous smirk, fondling your junk with her hands that put its size to shame <</becca>> Greedily, you clutch up at her tits, which she appreciates. She puffs out her chest for you, a slight ebb of milk dripping from her nipples with just the smallest amount of stimulation. Once she's gotten you out of your sheath and to hardness, she slips your cock between her legs and slams her whole weight down on your pelvis. It's such a shock you almost don't feel the initial penetration, a whole bovine bitch sinking your small fox body into the bed. She apologizes, noticing how she's knocked the wind from you. But she doesn't take it slow, not at all. The bouncing of her big butt up and down your dick creaks the bed loudly, almost matching the slick plapping. She coos, mooing in pleasure at the feeling. <<becca>>"My, don't you got a lot of life in you for such a little thing."<</becca>> Before you can say anything, she's got her long, luscious tongue down your throat. A lewd, open-eyed make-out session runs concurrently with her bronco-like ride of your shaft. Her huge body, at least compared to your own, casts you entirely in shadow. The juxtaposition of her massive frame compared to your eager-to-fuck, nerdy body, gives more than some passing stimulation. The wetness and warmth on your member make your dick feel like it's lost between her legs. Throbbing in the bottomless snatch of this dairy cow. You dig your claws into her thighs and pump up at her, a fever-pitch stirring in your hips as you rampantly try to push her weight off you. She breaks off the kissing and gasps, half-managing a sentence complimenting you. You're hearing none of it. Your goal is to hump up at her with such speed that you can make her hips move with your own. She's too heavy, and you're too light, but that won't stop you from giving it your damnedest. A futile effort of course, and you know it, but you put every ounce of power your frail academic form can muster into banging this slutty cow. This is your reward and you're going to make use of every heavenly millisecond. You hardly recognize your own moaning as she begins to moo with ever-increasing loudness. In a surprise that catches you off guard, your entire lower abdomen, thighs, and dick are drenched in the orgasmic exaltation of her pleasure. The satisfaction and shock of managing to bunny-fuck her into an orgasm elates you and you quit holding on. Your knot swells and tries to seal her overly gaped bovine cunt and you blast ropes deep into her. The amazing feeling of shooting, really squirting your semen up into her makes you nearly flat-line, your arms drained of strength and lungs burning for air. A bit of afterglow kissing helps resuscitate you back to the land of the living. <<if $virgin is true>><<becca>>"Congratz on your first time, proud I could snatch it from ya. You did good, boy."<</becca>><</if>> After the sex has concluded she rolls on her side, catching her stamina back up in due time. She's able to escape your knot without trouble given her far larger pussy. She turns to you and with some strokes of her hands through your fur she offers a lewd suggestion. <<becca>>"Why don't you be a good boy and get between my thighs with that tongue of yours? It's bad manners not to clean up a mess you've made."<</becca>> <<if $virgin is true>> <<set $virgin = false>>\ <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "Becca">>\ <</if>> [[No, thanks. You aren't too inclined to drink up your own cum.|fridgerepairnocei]] [[That sounds like a perfect ending.|fridgerepaircei]] You politely decline, and she doesn't press the matter at all. <<becca>>"Suit yourself."<</becca>> When the two of you are ready, you redress and she hands you over a few coins for your trouble. When it's all said and done, you made 15 gold and got your rocks off. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 15>> You think that sounds splendid, and you crawl between her spotted thighs with just that very idea driving you forward. Like a cat drinking from a bowl of milk, you sup and slurp your own seed from her pussy. You did a wonderful job fucking her, and it produces some unique pride to see your nut leaking out of her. The combined taste of her womanly slick and your virile cum is frankly quite good. Leisurely you lap at her until she's as clean as she can get by just your tongue. Doesn't hurt to give a few more drags of your tongue to her bovine labia. The lusty expression she gives you while you work is thanks enough. When the two of you are ready, you redress and she hands you over a few coins for your trouble. When it's all said and done, you made 15 gold and got your rocks off. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 15>> The fox draws your attention, he is absolutely out of place. He looks pretty uncomfortable in his fur. His bright ginger coat provides a nice contrast to the otherwise black and red maid's uniform he is forced to wear. You aren't sure how you feel about the divergence from the traditional black and white, but it does keep in line with the rest of the working girls. Aside from Brandy, this one is the only whore with a cock. Well, mostly. The poor fox has his junk locked up in a tight, small metal chastity cage. The slickened, pre-drooling tip of which is just barely visible under the hem of his skirt. He catches you staring and gives you a judgmental look. He who lives in a glass house shouldn't cast stones, you think. You approach the tod that looks far too much like a vixen and introduce yourself. <<river>>"I'm River. The pleasure is mine," he replies, with a sassy inflection to his tone that makes no effort to conceal the disingenuous reality. His trained accent makes him sound learned and intelligent. You aren't sure why he's in a place like this.<</river>> <<river>>"Discussion regarding the terms of my employ is not a topic I am strictly required to extrapolate on."<</river>> Well, that's enough out of him. You ask him if he's available for some time together. He exhales and looks you up from your boots to your chin, which he barely comes up to. The diminutive fox is reluctant to say but he admits he is free. <<if $playerCoins >= 29>> [[Fuck River's mouth.|riverprost2]] <<else>> ''You need 30 gold for River's services.'' <</if>> [[Nevermind.|hitaillounge]] You draw from your belt a heavy pouch of 100 gold and lay it before you. She looks at it with an aloof interest, pulling open the drawstring and looking between the glittering coins and you. "You think this is enough for my attention?" Before you can answer she shakes her head, "No. It isn't. This is a minimum. A tribute to my grandiosity. A ticket for the privilege of being considered worthy of my time. Do you see all these men around me?" You do indeed. You can't tell if they look happy or if they're in pain with how they wince and grovel around her. The nails on her footpaws are being painted by a very excited-looking cat boy. Another hungry looking individual cools her with a palmiform fan. The swoosh of the feathers on the fan makes Minerva's fur shift in the breeze slightly. "Each of them devotes their time, money, and health to mine. They live to serve me." She smiles at the one doing her nails. "And if they're good, perhaps they get a little time with my paws. Understand?" She tells you you'll get nothing with her words, but with her body she's signaling you'll get it all. Is that a trap? A trick to part you from your hard-earned gold? Her nipples perk up against the brush of her sweater, one of her hands traveling up her side to brush at the underside of her left breast. She swipes the pouch of gold and hands it off to someone behind her, who adds it to a small coffer by the leg of Minerva's chair. The clink of your coins rattling against her own, making your wealth hers, rings out. A strange shudder runs down your spine. "Leave me for now. Perhaps you'll be worth something soon." [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] <<set $playerCoins -= 100>> <<set $playerTribute += 100>> She looks you up and down with a slow and judgmental glare. Her beauty requires your attention and so you're loathe to break off looking until she dismisses you. <<minerva>>"As expected of someone so shabby looking. Begone, and don't return until you've got what you owe me. Boy."<</minerva>> She dismissively waves her hand, turning to an attendant who offers her a drink. You leave her to her minions. [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] You buy one of her potions. Uncorking it, you drain the cool pinkish fluid. It tastes more like cold air than a fluid. You feel a little more clear minded, you suppose. <<set $playerCoins -= 25>>\ <<set $hasClearpot to true>> [[Keep browsing.|helaruiitems]] You cup your head, and shake off the persuasive magics Baratier is sedating you with. He smirks, looking both surprised and impressed. He reclines in his chair and lays his hands on the table. <<bara>>"Not many have the fortitude to maintain their composure under pressure like yourself. In this line of work, it's essential."<</bara>> [[Continue.|barablkdone]]"So you're a novice when it comes to the pleasure of women, then? I could tell at first sight. I've always been good at sussing out virgins." She reclines to her chair, the wood of it creaking as she applies pressure to the back in order to shift and recross her legs. The hem of her dress lifted up not enough to expose anything but certainly enough to entice. Being called out is always a bit uncomfortable. In just the right way however. And Seletrix made use of this information every way she could with her posturing. Slowly hiking her skirt up her leg to show off her thighs and smooth, long legs. Slender by the calves and fatty by her thighs, it is almost a little intimidating. "How about a little practice before the real thing? Just to make sure you know how to do it, if you ever lose your purity." Practice, what the hell could she mean? At that, she stands, and drops her skirt, the fabric falls to the ground about her feet. And beneath, her unshaven pussy is laid bare. Dark black hair hides the exact details of her nethers, but only serves to make her snatch more enticing. <<if $class is "wizard">>You think you detect a hint of arousal coming from her. Her rich, human scent has some notes of something closer to a lizardkin for some reason. Perhaps that is just what human women smell of.<</if>> "You can't very well fuck with your clothes on, though we only need your cock out for this... dry run." She snickers, covering her mouth as she laughs, her prominent nose looking even more stand out. <<if $class is "wizard">>You couldn't get a better invitation than that. You drop your cloak from your shoulders and, free your lower half from your trousers and panties. The purple under-things make Seletrix smirk judgmentally.<</if>><<if $class is "fighter">>Your armor doesn't offer many options for partial removal, and no matter how you manage you'll be a little uncomfortable unless you undress fully, but you don't want to squander this chance by taking overly long. She watches, nods, perhaps having expected this, and comments, "Perhaps if you show promise, I'll want to see you entirely out of that plate mail."<</if>>She leaves you be while she sets herself on the bed, sitting on it and spreading her legs. It is painfully inviting to see a woman expose herself in such a way, and makes you weak in the knees. What's more is her beckoning hand gesture, curling a finger at you to lure you in like a baited hook. <<if $class is "wizard">>Seletrix gives an inspecting look to your smallish sheathe with a perked eyebrow, you can already feel the judgmental sentiments forming. When you mount the bed and get betwixt her legs she grasps your entire package with a single hand. "This may explain your lack of expertise in this field. Sporting a dagger instead of a sword are we." You can do naught but exhale and watch as your body betrays you, growing in arousal and stiffening in her palm. Your cocklet's shaft swells from your sheath to barely reach the end of her hand. Her full-fisted grasp switches to just three fingers. Her slender digits run up and down the length of what you can muster. The expectancy is that of mockery, but none comes. "Tell me. Does it twitch more when it's talked to lovingly, or with cruelty?" [[Cruelty|meanhj]] [[Kindness|kindhj]] <</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">>"Get atop the bed and between my legs, $name. Must be a little uncomfortable in all those clothes. This is for your education, I don't mind waiting for you to disrobe." Seeing as she's given the word, you definitely take your time. Of course, given your excitement at this opportunity, you fumble a bit. Seletrix is in no rush, and makes herself comfortable as she watches, idly rubbing herself between her legs. That is a gesture you've seen in passing, but not up close, and it catches your eye. She's accommodating, of course, lowering a knee for a better view. She rubs mostly the upper portion, her clit, though its hidden by her pubic hair. Each rolling of her wrist pulls the labia. A refreshing and enticing sight, that when coupled with her alluring gaze, serves to stiffen you up. "Aha, the soldier standing at attention. Now, up on the bed, as I ordered before." You comply, crawling up between her legs and sidling close. Her left-hand pushes against your chest to have you keep your distance. "Tut-tut, that's close enough. We're only practicing today." A few grumbling complaints are quickly silenced. "It's for your own good. Imagine how much easier and more enjoyable it will be with some safe practice. Now! Listen, and learn." She grasps around your cock with both hands, giving a few testing strokes and providing a space for you to thrust down into. Your hips sort of just, naturally thrust forward, as you get into position over her, the pleasure you're feeling drives your motions forward. "Oh, see, you're already getting it. Just try to control yourself better, find a good pace." That is the hard part, clutching at the sheets and fucking down at her grasp, while she strokes up. The whole time, aimed directly for the object of your desire. You could just do it, push down enough, enter her, fuck her. But, her hand stops you, keeping you at a torturous distance. "Aw, I can see on your face it must be hard. Poor thing. If it makes you feel any better, it's a bit difficult to hold back myself. You said you were a member of the Yellow Stripes, no? I've defeated your company on the battlefield before." Your brow furrows and your thrusting becomes a bit more irregular. How is this the time for going over previous victories? She tilts her head up, smiling with lewd dominance. "Imagine how could it would feel to pin down and fuck the woman who defeated you repeatedly on the battlefield? Avenging all your losses by fucking my snatch into submission? I'm sure your fat cock would have me squirming, clawing at your back." Hearing that does it, coaxing a moan from your throat, having you more eagerly and pointedly thrust down into her waiting grasp, sliding against her palm and fingers as they perfectly wrap around your length. Just the slightest amount of natural lubricant from her masturbating and your pre providing ease to the friction. "Oh, like that idea then? Keep fucking as you are, that pace. Putting the bad witch in her place? Breaking her in with your dick? Soon then, boy. As soon as you paint my pussy with your seed." The order to nut is what brings it, hurriedly and accurately you fuck down towards her. And with a few healthy throbs, you ejaculate your ball's contents against her pussy, the slight scent of sex hanging in the air. She pats your back, spreading her legs a bit more, and curling a knee up. It gives you a place to lean your side against as you collect yourself. There is a burning desire in your chest, even with your orgasm, that potent need to penetrate - now tempered by sexual exhaustion. A curious and delicious denial. Next time, she'd said. [[Continue.|seletrixhome]] <</if>> The depraved expression of glee she makes nearly has you regretting your decision. She grasps your shoulder and puts you into position, guiding you with pokes and prods until finally, your member is aimed straight for her pussy. With a few more centimeters you'd be kissing her lips with your cock's head. Blocked by her hand's grasp from anything more than this fake missionary. However, all you could feel at the moment was her fingertips. "I will now guide you through what I hope you will never feel." The twitching was beginning. "No woman should be subjected to such a useless little thing." Instinct does take hold a bit, at her words and your position, humping at her hand slightly. You clutch the bedsheets on either side of her hips, trembling. "Ah, trying to fuck already? Get used to hearing this: I can't feel you." Those words hit like a flash, especially with this reality of being held back, only having access to her hand - despite her nethers being so close by. It is quite natural, this feeling, plunging forward at her pussy and imagining what all of that feels like. "I can feel your knot swelling, you're going to cum already? You've only just started." You gulp, feeling an edge and realizing just how close you are. She's right, you're going to nut, way too early. You try pulling back or slowing but her hand, just those three fingers, torments your little shaft. "Pathetic. I knew I had you pegged for a runt. For your kind's sake, I hope you never mate with a vixen." That's it, you can't take anymore. You're going to cum! But, just as you gasp, moan, and squeeze your eyes closed in a pleasure flutter, it's all cut off. She shifts further up the bed and retracts her hands. Leaving you confused, and ruining your orgasm not at her pussy - but at the bed sheets, squirting your seed uselessly like the runt she knows you are. You quickly try to save your orgasm, shifting, pulling a hand toward your junk, but by the time you get it there it's too late, the final few pumps of pleasure are all deadened and ruined. She slides her fingers through the muck of your sperm and flicks it at you. "Felt good, pup? Then off my bed." [[Continue|seletrixhome]]"But of course. Such a splendid little prick must be held with care, no." A fourth finger joins the other three, running back and forth along the underside of your cock in a soft and steady motion. Her free hand runs through your mane, over your ears and down your back, pulling you closer in this snuggly faux-missionary spot. "Now thrust forward, move your hips back, and then down." Her gentle words make your ears twitch above your head. You follow her guide, doing as she says, trying to fuck her hand like you imagine a cunt might feel. Even though it's naught but her hand, and in theory no different than masturbating, it's a divine experience. The sight of her nethers, this treasured object of desire, exposed, makes it all the better. "Imagine dipping your wick there. Wet, warm, welcoming. You're small, aren't you?" Your nodding head answers before you can restrict yourself. "That means your entire cock gets to feel every detail of it swallowed up by my pussy, no?" You begin humping faster, exhaling harshly. "Ah, liked that did you? Well, it's true. Such a cute thing, and so needy. Plugging my hole with your knot will be good training for when you breed a vixen. Won't it be?" Your breathing gets more intense, and the thrusting more erratic. However, her skilled hand keeps a firm and steady grip, pleasuring all that she strokes. "Go on then, make a mess of my pussy. Empty your balls across my cunt, just like you're actually fucking." Before she's even done talking you're moaning like a girl and ejaculating over the hairy snatch before you, streaking her dark nether-fur with stripes of white as you blow your load, imaging what the real thing might be like, tasting the warmth of her pussy's heat. She pats your back, spreading her legs a bit more, and curling a knee up. It gives you a place to lean your side against as you collect yourself. There is a burning desire in your chest, even with your orgasm, that potent need to penetrate - now tempered by sexual exhaustion. A curious and delicious denial. "Not so bad for a practice run. You moved your hips correctly at least." [[Continue.|seletrixhome]] <<ava>>"Very good!"<</ava>> She slips her arm around your own, her hand's talons rattling against the metal of your gauntlet. She has not a lick of strength to her grip, and even here you feel how light and weak she is. Perhaps it is to be expected as an avian being. <<ava>>"Why don't I give you a little tour of my office? You can see where you will be working."<</ava>> She adjusts her umbrella to protect the both of you from the rain, and leads you forward toward the city's eastern gate. Unsurprisingly, this is the mercantile area. Few people are out on the streets now given the rain, but you can see some workers in the windows, looking out. Many of the buildings here have large windows, now all pelted with rain. Magically powered signs twinkle out shop names, deals, and other myriad advertisements, making the water-slick streets glitter with their prismatic lights. Ava takes you to a horizontally challenged building, squeezed between two others in a tightly packed location. Notably, none of the windows, fanciful adornments, or anything that draws the eye. It is multistoried, you can tell by its height, though you can't imagine the inside is very roomy. <<ava>>She offers you the umbrella, "Hold this a moment, $name."<</ava>> Once she has her hands free, she dips one into her robes to reveal a key, inviting you into the gloom of the interior. As you step inside, the room unfolds in a mesmerizing display of enchantments and secrecy. The amount of magic catches you off guard. It conjures memories of the war rooms you've had the privilege of visiting regarding the level of concealment. Much of it is over your head, but at the very least you know potent stuff is at work. The chancery walls are cloaked in a velvety reddish hue, shimmering with subtle magical sigils that pulse with a faint, ominous glow. These runes seem to whisper secrets to those who can understand their arcane language, and they protect against unwanted intrusions. Immediately Ava invites you up a set of walnut stairs, leaving the unlit hallway a mystery as you follow her up to the second level. The stairs creak slightly under your weight, and when you reach the top, Ava guides you to the center door in this very minute hallway. The room is sparsely furnished with ornate, antique pieces that seem to belong to a different era. An intricately carved, chestnut desk stands at the center of the room, its surface cluttered with parchments, scrolls, and mystical tomes. Oddly, the table is incredibly low. And looking over it, you see a small but comfortable-looking crimson pillow. And when you look down to that you realize the flooring is not wood, but some time of soft mat. Ava gets behind the desk and sits herself on that pillow, looking like a lavishly adorned, foreign empress. Her regal form is accented by the careful way she descends to rest. <<ava>>"Small, but all the comforts of my home. As many of them as I could manage, at least."<</ava>> Ava lowers her kimono slightly, the loosening of the fabric exposing more of the fluff of her chest and the very top of her bust. "It isn't a complex job I will have you doing, $name." <<ava>>She taps her desk with a talon, a signal to approach. "And kneel."<</ava>> You do so, shifting your stance down to a single knee, resting your forearm over your thigh. She says nothing immediately, savoring the time to examine you. And that feeling of being observed, especially by such a beautiful woman, is comforting. Her knuckles brush against your backhand, tapping the leather there. Her beak clicks slightly. The exhale from her breathing can be both heard and felt and added to this subtle moment she is entwining you in. <<ava>>"All you have to do is guard me, and make sure no one I don't approve of gets through the door."<</ava>> Sounds simple enough. <<ava>>"Well, want to work your first shift?"<</ava>> [[Continue.|work1]] <<set $avaStage to 1>><<ava>>"Very well," she curtly accepts your decline. "If you change your mind, why don't you come visit my office?"<</ava>> Ava gives you some directions for where you could find her, and it's not too far from the eastern gate, alongside other mercantile services. She gives you a small pat on the forearm and decides to leave you for now. You aren't certain if you'll follow up to protect her, but at least you know where to find her. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $avaStage to 1>><<ava>>"Well, what's your desire?" Ava asks with a soft coo.<</ava>> [[Ask some questions.|avatalkmenu]] [[Leave the office.|tappahannockhub]] <<set _psg to either( 'work1', 'work2', 'work3', )>>\ <<link 'Work a shift with Ava.' _psg>><</link>> With very little in way of a lead, you ask the roadhouse's owner if she has any information on Yulha. "Oh, she left a note for a fox boy. Guess'un that's you?" You are in fact a fox boy, and you're thankful she didn't confuse you for a vixen. The gruff, wet nose and jagged tusks of her jaw catch your eye. <<boartender>>She snorts and reaches under the table, "Here. Now buy something will ya?"<</boartender>> She slaps down a sealed letter, and a key as well. It's a small brass thing. Thankfully you're not compelled to buy something, as another patron catches her attention with an order. Leaving you alone with the letter and key. The red wax of the seal was stamped with some heraldry you can't recognize. It's most certainly human given some of the details, though you don't know enough to name a house. It's of a knight's helm, facing to the left, on a checkered field. Some sort of sprouts, likely wheat, cross under the neck of the helm. You pocket the key, slipping it into somewhere hidden, and crack open the seal. '$name, Skeelhowl isn't too hard to navigate. What follows are some directions to my location. I trust you realize you should operate with the utmost discretion when carrying these out. And I trust you realize that if you appear with anyone other than yourself, you and them will be unfortunate victims of my magic. With that out of the way... You're at the Split Hoof Roadhouse, exit, and travel southwest down the main road. It will splinter off into a variety of small side streets. Ignore these. You are looking for a signposting labeled 'Greyam Lane'. The first left passed Greyam Lane, walk down it. It will appear as a dead-end after some hundred paces or so. There is a loose drainage grate down that alley. Descend. I will be waiting. If you find sewers offensive might I recommend the purchase of a scent cloak from a shop in town.' A damn sewer. Why? Why is it always there? You roll your eyes and clutch the key. She made no mention of it or its use. Odd. <<if $hasScentcloak is false>>\ Buying one is imperative. Your senses are delicate enough that the abhorrent stench of a boar's sewers would drive you mad without it. You know for a fact they can be purchased at most alchemy shops. <</if>>\ [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $yulhaStage to 2>> You decide to follow her directions and travel down the main road for Grayam Lane. Skeelhowl, as you've come to see, is surprisingly filthier than Tappahannock. The boars love their muck, and the roads are hardly paved. You reckon its on account of their cloven hooves. Your paws serve you well enough, but you can do little for your cloak's edges but mourn as they become dirty. The towering figures of boars obfuscate much of the roads, and given your height with their genitals on some, the roadways are exceptionally musky and irritating to push through. <<linkreplace 'Do you sort of like it?'>>\ <<include "kindalike">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ In no time at all you're right where she directed, a dingy alley with little of remarkable note. Unless you count the awfully brutalist masonry of boars worthy of attention. There was the grate, staring you down. Even from here, several paces away, it smells. You sigh. <<if $hasScentcloak is false>> You absolutely refuse to go down there without a scent cloak to mask the nightmare. You know for a fact you can buy one at a shop. [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<else>> You've got a scent cloak on hand, and now is the time to use it. Normally, these are used to hide one's scent, but they're strong enough they neutralize one's sense of smell. Bit of a double-edged sword for anthros such as yourself. Hide yourself, while also nullifying a great asset for detecting others. Unscrewing the jar, the scent that strikes you is overbearing. But, filled with nothingness. A bizarre, alchemically concocted strength. It reminds you not of the scent of mint or menthol, but of the power those materials have in their olfactory profiles. Regardless, you dip your hand into it and smear it across your neck, to your shoulders, under your chin. Some is applied to your wrists, and finally for extra protection a slight dap to your nose. There is still plenty to make use of for future endeavors. With a deep intake of breath, you notice that it's worked! That sewer scent isn't noticeable at all, but nor is that of the street, any boars. Or anything at all really. With hope this alchemical cloak would do some to prevent your clothes from being too hampered by the waterways. You remove the grate and descend the rough, iron handrails to the sewer below. Dark, of course, with little light for your eyes to draw on. As you replace the grate behind you, you make sure to keep your eyes down so they can keep adjusting. By the time you cast your glance around again, the area is somewhat more recognizable. Your animalistic night vision serves better in these tight areas than a magelight, and so you scan the cistern. The smell is null, but the soundscape is curiously noisy. The plinking of water to puddles, to heavy bodies of water, to stone and metal, all of that mixed with the sloshing and plodding of liquids both filthy and not. The environment is mostly brick and mortar, with a thin layer of slime and furtive moss in some places. Looking along to your left, you spot a cross in the path. but to your right, a closed shut gate and door. Your mind goes to your key, and you try it on that pathway. With a dull clink, the latch opens, success! Deeper in the gloom of this path a wavy, blurry set of red dots slide into view and retract. Your heart sinks in terror at that quick disappearance, steeling yourself for some disaster. <<yulha>>"You look as if you've seen a ghost," the red dots make themselves visible again, and the rasping voice of Yulha echoes from down the path.<</yulha>> You exhale in relief, you should have known, but even so... such a sight... <<yulha>>"Going to stand there smelling the roses or come along? We have a short walk."<</yulha>> You plod forward, closing the gate behind you on her command. The prospect of continuing to walk down here doesn't please you, and your paws feel slick and gross already. Nevertheless, you follow your necromantic tutor along into the darkness. Was this a mistake? [[Continue.|yulha1meet]] <</if>> With a bit of uncertainty you welcome yourself to the Split Hoof, and with a sigh of relief, no one cranes their neck to gawk at you. Doesn't seem like they're too concerned about a foreigner visiting. Unlike Tappahannock the majority of patrons at the bar are still boars. Brutish and loud, you stick out like a sore thumb among them. You catch a few wayward glances but keeping a stiff upper lip seems to calm them down enough for you to transact your business. Unlike the other establishments you've been to, there is a surprisingly relaxed atmosphere. Far less spitting, smack talk, and argumentative posturing than you may have expected. Perhaps it's the on-going conflict nearby, or the reality of the big tusks on their faces keeps them civilized. [[Speak to the barkeep for a drink or information.|splithoofbarkeep]] [[Leave.|skeelhowl]] It's begrudgingly nice... now and then when a thickset female or male passes, you find yourself stealing sniffs of the air to taste the scents. Thankfully, for your own sake, they don't notice. The rich scent is nearly overbearing, and certainly covers that other 'city smell' prevalent everywhere. What she leads you to, perhaps is a bit predictable. Carved from the earth and cistern, a laboratory and hideout of sorts. It glitters with a magical, purple light from illusory flames set to braziers time would never snuff. Surgery tables with wood so stained red with blood it has simply deepened the brown. The tables that wreathed the walls are stuffed with alembics, decanters, ingredients, and books. The workspaces are organized, but among those myriad gloomy shades of liquid and items, is organization. Lived in, but organized. The entire laboratory feels in media res. Yulha leads you further in, though there isn't much to see. A singular room whose overflowing contents reduce it into an intimate environment. <<yulha>>You ask if she made it herself and she, quite plainly, says, "Of course not!"<</yulha>> She turns, presenting with her hand a figure you'd completely glossed over. Cloaked in shadow, her details only occasionally coming through in the mire of purple gloom, is a re-animated creature. <<yulha>>"And that is why you are here. I will show you how to construct your own minion. If you wish to plunge into the depths of thanatology, this will be your gateway."<</yulha>> Tall, taller than you or Yulha for certain, and possessing an incredibly muscular figure. It is feminine in shape, her head that of a she-wolf's, while her torso could have been something else. Patch-work fur laid over rippling muscles and a pair of heavy breasts only meagerly concealed by a ripped tunic. Brownish fur gives way to grey, giving way to a hide of cream colors. Stitchery connects all of these odd ends and bits, and it boggles the mind how such varied items could have been brought together to form this. In particular, your eyes drift down and down, past her exposed and tensed abs, to the large flaccid bulge laying against one thigh, hidden behind the loose trousers she wore. Her eyes are closed tight, as if at sleep, while standing stiffly. Almost like a horse in its stable. You make your surprise clear. Which causes Yulha to rattle out a sonorous laugh, breathless and raspy. <<yulha>>"She was my first creation, and I've changed her much over the years." Yulha approaches and her minion's eyes open. The milky, dead sclera winks to illumination with a sickly yellow. <</yulha>> Yulha answers you promptly and proudly when you ask after her name. "Stride. She's not very limber, but her long legs help her maintain mobility. I built her for strength, but that is also a lot easier as a beginner. I've found making a dexterous, careful revenant isn't as easy as making a brutish and simple-minded one." Yulha stands beside her beast, Stride, who turns her head slowly at the call of her name. By your estimation, whatever capacity for thought this being had must be quite low. Makes you wonder why Yulha saw fit to add a cock to her servant. <<yulha>>"So. Your first lesson will be in the collection of pieces to make your servant. Try to keep the sizes mostly within the same range. The more alike they are, the better. You can find suitable donors in fresh graves, battlefields, morgues... I recommend the roads around here. The recent battles have provided me many specimens."<</yulha>> You nod hurriedly, but you're wondering where to bring them, what to do with them, you've investigated corpses before and animated some things briefly - but nothing like Stride. <<yulha>>"Aye, I suspected as much. We'll make use of your grimoire to channel your power. Bring back here four limbs, a torso, and a head. I will guide you in the stitchery required. Understood?"<</yulha>> You understand that much but wonder about anything else you should know. Are some parts incompatible? As if you'd reminded her of something vital, she makes an 'aha' sound. <<yulha>>"Good question." She pats Stride's arm, rubbing her talon-bone fingers through the fur. "Stick to fur or scale. Do not mix them. It will be more difficult than you can manage to breathe life into a mismatched creature. A creation of lupine and boar pieces or lizardkin and kobold pieces will do a lot better than mashing those all together."<</yulha>> Taking that to heart, you consider your options. The notion of your own servile undead minion is just the next stepping stone on the path of your research. That which you had been ousted from Flakefeather for. <<yulha>>"Return here when you have suitable materials. In the meantime, you're welcome to rest and study here if you like. Though part of me doubts you'll want to spend too much time down here in the sewer." Yulha cackles bitterly, her mask shifting as she does.<</yulha>> <strong>This is the current end of content with Yulha.</strong> [[Ask her some questions before leaving.|yulhatalkmenu]] [[Continue.|skeelexit]] The gruff barkeeper has a tuft of reddish mane that juts out wildly from her otherwise spotted, brown hide. Her tusks are on the shorter side and notably clean and unworn. <<if $class is "fighter">> She gives you a curious and inviting look. [[Ask why she is staring.|anatalkfighter]] <</if>>\ <<if $yulhaStage is 1>>\ [[Ask her about Yulha.|yulharoadhouse]] <</if>> <<if $playerCoins >= 3>> [[Alcohol! Something mild, cherry grog. (1 gold)|cherrygrog]] [[Alcohol! Something stiff, a shot of corn Bourbon. (2 gold)|brownalchy]] <<else>> ''They don't do tabs here.'' <</if>> [[Walk away from the bartop.|splithoof]] <<boartender>>"Mysterious. Ain't nothin' for it."<</boartender>> <<return>> If she could blush, you think she might now. <<boartender>>"We don't get too many human men around here," she says, with all the subtlety of a fireball she licks her lips, her wet snout, and tusks in one 'seductive' swipe. "Antalya is my name."<</boartender>> Antalya pours you another shot, and speaks to you now in a whisper. <<boartender>>"Let's say you come round this counter, we go in the storeroom and my snatch gets familiar with your tongue. And after, maybe you root around with your cock. I'll even let you finish inside."<</boartender>> You think for a moment if the Baroness is a jealous type. [[Decline. You don't want to pork this hog.|anadecline]] [[What's the harm in a quick and dirty fuck?|fuckana]]<<boartender>>"You won't find much of that here in Lytria. Calm 'cept for that business at the border and such. What with the Yellow Stripes."<</boartender>> <<return>> To say the boar-woman looks fuming would be an understatement. You have a fear she might leap over the counter and tackle you. What is it with barkeeping and anger issues? Must be the clients. <<boartender>>"Buy something or fuck off."<</boartender>> [[Continue.|splithoof]] Antalya growls with a lusty and worrisome energy, before grabbing your forearm and leading you around the back. She barks at one of her coworkers to man the bartop while she's away. This doesn't arouse any suspicion, but those salacious looks she's giving you sure are arousing something. Swiping her tongue across her tusks, lips, and piggy nose as if to invite you into her big and dangerous maw. Pulling you from the vague light of the inn to the dark gloom of the storeroom sets the scene. Muffling the sounds of the store, tucked away behind barrels and with the door slapped shut behind you, it isn't too likely you'd get caught. Even if you figure everyone outside just knows... Ana pulls open the strings binding the bodice of her tunic before tucking her hands at the hem and tossing it off her. Her dark-nippled, brown-furred hog tits bounce as she does. She reveals them with immense pride, brushing down the furry tuft of reddish hair between them as it had become bristled up in her display. <span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'boartender.png']]</span> Her biceps, abdomen, and chest are all defined with muscle, a stark contrast to the more pudgy Baroness. Where she was bulky and muscular, Ana keeps herself lean and muscular. She runs her hands up the six-pack at her belly. <<boartender>>"Fancy jizzing against my cum-gutters, human?" She roars a snorting, piggy laugh.<</boartender>> <<boartender>>"Come on then, lad, play with them while you think, what next?"<</boartender>> You step forward, hardly inclined to not do your thinking while fondling her teats. You grab each one and roll them over in your hands, palming the nipples, feeling their hefty warmth and rough-furred softness. Squeezing and pulling forward, you coax her breasts as if to milk her, ending with pinching her nipples between your thumb and pointer. It makes her moan in a repressed, lip-bitten manner. [[Go head to tail on each other, 69.|ana69]] It's another bar service with Osco, it could be worse. Better than getting spunked in. Although that isn't always the worst. You try to take some of his advice and stretch and show off. Not too much, you're not doing this for fun after all, right? It's just for the coin! Your cage gets quite uncomfortably watching one of the erotic dancers provide a surprise show, tumbling and teasing the lounge audience with her flighty feline movements. The spots on her contribute to the dizzyness of her passionate blur between the tables. She casts up and off her silks, draping them over customers, flashing her snatch for only the smallest of glimpses. The appeal and desire are unavoidable, and the denial of your device only worsens it. You often find yourself idly clutching at it while she prances around. It's nice to get a break, what with all the clients focused on her. Damn shame it's so distracting to watch for you too. The jingle of her golden bangles on ankles, the jiggle of her tits as she cartwheels, the splay and bounce of her paws as she dances. Osco smacks your ass firmly, more to get you to refocus than his pleasure. <<generic>>"Focus, little fox. You're not paid to tug at your cage. You don't want to know what the Madame will do to you if she catches you with your hand down your skirt."<</generic>> His sly, but commanding tone gave you a bit of worry and it is just what you need to refocus on serving. Eventually, the cheetah and her agile spots have pulled a john, and the show is done. The rest of your shift goes well enough, but you keep thinking of that cheetah. As you carry down the back halls, you hear the lusty and put-on moans of many girls and the creaks of many beds. But on the way to the Madame's room, you catch an ajar door. A little peek at the cheetah getting her back blown out by some wolf. [[You could steal a look.|wizcheetah2]] [[Or hurry off for your wages and forget it.|madamepayout]] You stealthily peek through the crack in the door. They're making the beast with two backs for sure. Each one writhing in need as they gently bite and digger their claws into each other. The curve of her back is delicious, the snap of her tail around his, tugging the dock of it to make him howl. You can't hear it over the wet, plapping sound of the canine plowing her pussy, but you can tell she's egging him on to fuck her harder. The firm muscular body of the wolf is in exact contrast to her feminine and svelt form. Her sultry looks make your knees weak. Watching them fuck, even when the male is covering much of her up, is delicious. The sight of his tail hole and balls cover most of her pussy at some angles but you can't pry your eyes off their backsides, shuddering with want at the glimpses of her cream-colored fur and spots, her tits, her cheeks getting clapped by a customer. You go knock-kneed, grasping at your cage and pulling on it. Oh! If only you had your damn key. You tug and whine, hips thrusting up at nothing in urgent and selfish need, drooling pre from the tip of your cage. It nearly gives you a heart attack when you're grabbed from behind, muffled with a palm, and caught in a headlock. It eases up quickly, switching to a grab of your head between the ears - once you've yelped into her palm. It's Minerva. She caught you! Osco's words return to you. Would she rat you out to the Madame? <<minerva>>"What do we have here? A nasty little voyeur?"<</minerva>> The hand she isn't holding your head with drifts over your girly clothing to your cage, where she taps her claws to the metal. Your breathing accelerates in worry as she shushes any of your attempts at explaining. Instead, she begins to stroke off the air before your cage, the slight touch of her fingers to the cage as she begins pulling on it giving you conniptions. You shiver against her, held by her as she keeps your eyes forward and watching the cheetah get bred and filled with wolf cum, their sweaty escapade coming to an end. <<minerva>>"Don't you wish you could do that? Or at the very least feel my hand on your cock? Tsk. Cock is a strong word, isn't it? For this little needle~"<</minerva>> The whimper you make causes her to snicker, which only makes the arousal deepen. It's bad enough you can feel your paws claw into the wood beneath you. Minerva clutches you tight and spins you around, turning you toward her predatory eyes, shaded with purple eyeshadow. Smart that she does it too, keeping the two of you looking casual as the wolf gathers his clothes and exits. The male doesn't give either of you more than a parting, satisfied smile. [[Continue.|wizcheetah3]] Minerva pushes you in after the wolf leaves, guiding you by the shoulders like her personal little toy. The room's air is heavy with the sexual passion the cheetah and her client had just shared, and you find yourself stealing huffs of it as Minerva urges you closer and closer to the bed. Spread eagle on it, is the dancer who just got fucked. Her legs open wide, her snatch oozing the creamy filling of the wolf that had just left. <<generic>>"Oh! Minnie, how's it going?" the cheetah asks breathlessly, laying her backhand against her forehead and trying to lower her heartbeat.<</generic>> Hearing that pet name makes the dominatrix borzoi holding you dig her claws in. You wish she wouldn't do that, but you don't have much of a say. Without 'Minnie' answering, the feline goes on. <<generic>>"A soldier off duty from up north. Always so rough, those ones."<</generic>> She looks forward more, meeting your eyes with a smile. <<generic>>"Oh! It's one of the new girls, right? $name? How are you, cuteness? I'm Sheba, have we met?"<</generic>> For being freshly fucked and exhausted she sure talked a mile a minute. You are not a vixen! You begin to tell her that you are not one of the 'new girls' and are a male. But Minerva clutches your cage and presents your trapped prick to Sheba. <<minerva>>"This says otherwise, $name. Now. I caught this strumpet spying on you, and I cannot allow such uncouth behavior to go unpunished. Especially when committed by one of the 'girls'."<</minerva>> You don't need to turn your head to hear the cruel smile that comes across her face. You feel your ears go flat in worry. <<generic>>"Punishment?" Sheba sits up more. "I don't know if all that is needed."<</generic>> <<minerva>>"You don't? Good thing I wasn't asking you."<</minerva>> You feel a harsh but sudden whack to your back leg, sending you immediately to your knees at the edge of the bed. Inches from your face was the sweet-scented, honey-leaking pot of the cheetah dancer. From your low angle, you couldn't see much past her tummy, her knees naturally hemming you in on both sides. And as the borzoi steps up to make sure you don't escape, you find yourself pinned by all sides. She grabs your head firmly and forces it closer and closer to Sheba's cum-filled cunt. <<minerva>>"Lick."<</minerva>> <<generic>>"Oh, I would love that, $name. Nothing like a bit of head to help cool off. Would you, cuteness?"<</generic>> <<minerva>>Minerva pinches one of your ears between her claws and whispers. "Eat that wolf cum out of her pussy or your dicklet won't ever see the light of day."<</minerva>> You can't wriggle free, you can't cast magic. All you have is your cramped sheathe throbbing with a locked-away erection, and your nose twitching at the curiously arousing scent of a creampie you didn't make. <<if $virgin is true>>How good her pussy must have felt for that client. And you still haven't wet your wick in anything...<</if>> With a shy, tentative lick you drag the cum across your tongue. Then another, and another. You can feel the taste of wolf semen sink against the top of your tongue and roll down your throat. The taste isn't too awful. Thick, salty, masculine. Cut with the girl cum of Sheba, a thinner and more tangy taste. Slowly, but persistently, Minerva makes sure you clean up the cum from Sheba's kitty snatch, drinking it down with winced eyes. All while you find your hands drifting to your cage to squeeze on your denied cock. The soft sounds of pleasure the cheetah makes spurs you on more. This feels good for her, that's a bonus! Even if you're pleasuring her post-fuck pussy with your mouth. <<minerva>>"No chance for sloppy seconds today, whore," Minerva says once she believes you've done enough.<</minerva>> With a rough tug she pulls your head back, scooping under your arm to bring you back to standing. <<minerva>>"Good?" The white-furred hound asks Sheba.<</minerva>> The cheetah offers a whispered confirmation, and tacks on a 'thanks' for you as well. <<minerva>>Pleased with herself, Minerva shoves you toward the door. "Collect your wages from the Madame."<</minerva>> [[Continue.|madamepayout]] No clients grab a hold of you immediately, so Madame Ji puts you behind the bar with Osco. All is well in the world of mixing drinks until another new face is shuffled behind with you. It's an avian of some assortment. A curved, carrion-picker's beak with a lightish clay-red pate in contrast to otherwise inky black plumage. Obscenely girly thigh highs cling tight to his feminine body from his talons up to his legs, stirrups holding them in place. A too-short skirt exposes his genitals for viewing, and his chest is bound in a turtleneck crop top that exposes his belly. Squat, tight, and glistening with leaking fluid is a strange flat-capped salt-shaker-like cage. The seemingly horrible contraption makes you gawk at it for a moment and count your blessings. He can only smile in half-worried shame about it. You get some time alone together as Osco handles an order, and get a chance to exchange a few words. It's flighty and brief, as both of you have to appear busy as you do so, but you simply have to know why he's in such an awful contraption and not a normal chastity cage. <<generic>>"Ah~, punishment for escaping," he explains with a joking tone that hides the mournfulness.<</generic>> It makes you stammer in concern, escape his cage? Is his chastity permanent? <<generic>>"I have a nice release every few months," he adds with a nod and clack of his beak. You notice then his chest is, fuller than you'd expect. Plumage you think, but as you watch him move around you realize he has very small, budding breasts.<</generic>> <<generic>>He catches you looking and, as if he's been asked it many times, says, "Oh, you can touch them if you want." He turns to you and puffs his chest out.<</generic>> You look around to make sure whatever clients and coworkers around aren't looking, and cop a feel of your new and mostly masculine helper. Just as you figured, actual tits. If small, something not exceeding a B cup for certain. The nipples in particular feel puffy and the shiver he makes speaks to how sensitive they are. <<generic>>You ask if they're natural and he shakes his head and looks down shamefully. "A different punishment for escaping."<</generic>> That thought lingers with you through the rest of your shift. The Madame unlocks you at the end of every shift, but how long until that changes? You hurriedly collect your money, your key, and take your leave. Redressing yourself makes you tremble with some small nervous arousal. Not to mention the hard on. And the feeling over your own chest, just wondering what that would be like. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 20>> She seemingly ignores your question, asking one of her own instead. <<boartender>>"Hey, human, what's your name?" The gruff barkeeper asks.<</boartender>> She's smirking and leaning in, what little pudge on her body not enough to hide her muscles. Handing over your name to strange boar women has had questionable outcomes in Lytria. With some hesitation, you offer it to her and she pours you a shot of brownish alcohol. The thin color catches what little light is in the establishment and highlights the amber. You drain the shot and feel the harsh run of it down your throat and tingle against your tongue. <<boartender>>"So, $name, what brings you here to Skeelhowl?"<</boartender>> [[Wealth, fortune, adventure. Something like that.|wealth]] [[None of her business, keep tight lipped.|secret]] [[You came for the wonderful women of Lytria.|blush]] You order a dose of Lytria grog. It's thick, soppy with suds, smells rank and hits you like a mallet. You can't say it tastes good, vaguely cherry-like. But immediately after draining the last heady bubbles you feel your head get a bit loopy with drunkenness. [[Continue.|splithoofbarkeep]] <<set $playerCoins -= 1>> She pours you a short, sloppy shot of dark brown alcohol. It's harsh, smokey, and lingers on your tongue after you drain it. The glass claps to the wood when you settle it back down. [[Continue.|splithoofbarkeep]] <<set $playerCoins -= 2>> She smirks with a malicious intent that darkens her features and beckons you close for a whisper. <<minerva>>"How about a go at my wet hole?"<</minerva>> Her wording seems oddly specific, but you can't deny the lewd tone she uses. [[Yes, you'll do it.|minervarewardts]] [[No, but a tribute will do.|minervapay]] The time had finally come. You had given Minerva a small fortune, and you of all people finally got to have sex with her. The air about her is different now that you've asked. Withdrawn even with the seduction, aloof but only a pace away. She guides you up to her room, a private place you've spent some time in. The lavish fixings and adornments you realize are all afforded to her simply because she exists. You and many other men pay her way and make her life cushy and comfortable. Not only did this act, getting to fuck Minerva, cost you a ton - it cost a ton to earn her trust enough to be allowed to ask. And for awhile it seemed touch and go. <<minerva>>"This is an exceedingly rare opportunity. I only spread my legs for the absolute best of the best. You are not that. Well, you are not the best I usually allow to feel the warmth of my pussy."<</minerva>> Her serene tone has you in a state like soft clay. Ready to be molded this way and that. Ready to be drained of your money, and by way of your money, your time and life. The very idea gave you shivers of pleasure. <<minerva>>"You won't be having the same sort of sex those men do. To me, you aren't a man, not the best like them. You're the best wallet. A coin purse. A pouch of gold with an insignificant willy. Some, guttural, low-born nub."<</minerva>> That guttural nub she referenced began to swell with an erection, tenting in your trousers. She leads you past the bed, past it. This is confusing, where are you going? A closet? Some side room? No, a bathroom. Fancy in truth. A small private water closet. Wooden fixtures made up the designs. Dark wood, illuminated only in part from the candles of the adjoining room. The commode built into the wall was of a box design, with a dark hole in the middle. <<minerva>>"Close your eyes, $name. Close them. If you open them you will regret it."<</minerva>> You lid your eyes, and turn your head to avert your gaze. With only your other senses to go on, your hearing alerts you to the undressing of the bourgeoise borzoi, the scent of the room is nothing but vaguely floral. With nothing to touch or feel on your skin but the rubbing of the fabric of your pants on your thumbs and the twitch of your cock against your undergarments, what few seconds pass feels like far longer. <<minerva>>"Open your eyes, kneel before me undressed."<</minerva>> [[Comply.|minervarewardts2]] [[Decline, leave.|hitail]] Turning and looking, a most divine sight greets you. Minerva, sat upon her latrine, with her soft white thighs spread and nude. Such a wide, lewd opening was hampered only by her hand covering her pussy from view, blocking its sight and access with her backhand. She had taken her top off but not her bra, a purple bit of lingerie obscuring her nipples and cupping her breasts. <<minerva>>"Enough gawking, kneel. Clothes. Off."<</minerva>> No further command is needed or wanted, fear grasped you. Best not press your luck with this chance! You disrobe and get on your knees, the discarded clothes offering some padding from the unpleasant wood. <<minerva>>"You'll stroke off at my latrine. This is my private toilet. But for you, you can consider it my pussy. Any sex we have will be through this proxy. You will never penetrate anything but your hand when I am in this state of undress."<</minerva>> The very thought! The humiliation! It drives you to masturbatory relief immediately. Her snatch is right there, nothing but her hand protecting it. But that purple-lidded gaze and her dominion over you keeps you sedate, jerking and on your knees. Just like she's said, you're a bitch. Each time you submitted your coin purse to her, you showed her that you were a bitch. <<minerva>>"You're going to spurt your seed into my latrine like a cherry boy and thank me for the privilege. Repeat to me: You will never fuck anything but your hand. This toiletsex is the only sex you deserve."<</minerva>> Panting with pleasure you mutter it back to her, thrusting up at her knees. You'll never fuck anything but your hand. Cumming into her toilet is the highest honor you can receive. <<minerva>>"Enjoying the feel of that pussy?" Minerva asks.<</minerva>> <<minerva>>She teasingly raps her fingers against her cunt. It's bare, right under her hand, exposed. You can almost smell it. It probably feels like heaven compared to your hand.<</minerva>> You blurt out that you're close. <<minerva>>"Aim it inside, Any on the seat or floor you lick up, bitch."<</minerva>> You lean up a little bit, hustling forward desperately, humping your own hand and imagining it as Minerva's snatch, and in no time at all you're shooting your semen against the inside of that dark wood. The quiet splash of your seed being wasted utterly. <<minerva>>"This will feel even better than the orgasm, ready?"<</minerva>> You nod, the washing waves of breeding's reward tingling your brain. <<if $sneed is "feed">>Alt: Minerva lifts her hand off, still shielding her pussy from view but allowing herself to piss. The trickle of her urine sharply splashes to the water in a tingle, completely destroying and sterilizing your already wayward seed. But, you see this as a reward, a bonus.<</if>> Minerva's free hand reaches over, and pulls on the cord. The flushing sound of the bowl draining your ball's waste away, useless... <<minerva>>"Leave the room. Dress. Clean yourself somewhere else."<</minerva>> [[Continue.|hitail]] <<set $playerCoins -= 100>> <<set $playerTribute += 100>><span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'avasaves.png']]</span> [[Tell me about your homeland.|avahome]] [[What exactly do we do here?|avahuh]] <<if $bunnyStage is 1>> [[Ask Ava about the Bunnymask you have.|avabun]] <</if>> [[Nevermind.|avaoffice]] <<ava>>"I'm not expecting anyone today," Ava begins, not looking up to you as she scratches some words to a parchment. "If we get any visitors, turn them away."<</ava>> She instructs you to guard her close, watching outside her room's door directly, and that people may freely enter from the door below. Simple enough, you're not a nitwit and you've done watch before with the Stripes. So, you post up outside her door. Boring, very boring. Painfully boring. She expected no one, and no one came. Sadly you see little of Ava and much of the wall - staring forward at it. In time she exits, and dismisses you. She slides her arm around yours and walks you down the stairs while telling you all about her exciting day cooped up in a tiny room writing reports, letters, and organizing offers. With a comically despondent sigh, she pays you for the day when you reach the foot of the stairs and bids you fair well. ''You receive 30 gold for your time.'' [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 30>> Ava pauses a moment to think, her beak opens slightly. Then it closes. She sighs and turns her head to the side, looking at the books and scrolls wistfully. The remorse, homesickness, and regret are palpable but she doesn't elaborate why. <<ava>>"It's a beautiful place," her smooth voice betrays how much she's fighting back sadness. "Tappahannock has green forests, tall trees, and farmlands. It is a dull green. Imagine a countryside of vibrant emerald, clear blue skies, and rolling fogs. Cities older than you can imagine with stone masterworks lining every street. Milk and honey."<</ava>> You tilt your head and try to imagine it. Sounds splendid. You wonder how much of that is accurate, and how much is nostalgia. <<ava>>"What about you, $name, where are you from?"<</ava>> [[Galendoria.]] [[Elsteron.]] [[Bellaforat.]] She gives you a sly smile. <<ava>>"It's nothing malicious. Magical trinkets, scrolls and items are my trade. Importing them, selling them, occasionally buying them from locals."<</ava>> That explains all the adornments on the walls. It makes sense why she'd want a bodyguard then, that's a lucrative and risky business. <<ava>>"Exactly. Among other reasons," she coyly covers her beak with a fan of her talons.<</ava>> [[Continue.|avatalkmenu]] You tell her of your home in Galendoria. The countryside is home to farmers and the cities to overly wealthy merchants, just like anywhere else. Bitter winters but balmy summers, and a shared border with bother Keiferhetzen and Elsteron. War and skirmishing are common given Galendoria's neighbors, so joining the Yellow Stripes to see the world and leave behind poverty seemed like a good choice. At the time. [[Continue.|avatalkmenu]] She knows enough that she recoils in surprise when you mention the very name. <<ava>>"Really? Is that true?"<</ava>> It is, sort of. You were too young to remember any of it, but just as the plague broke out you and your family had enough money and connections to escape through Black Rook Pass. It bankrupted your family's coffers and left them destitute. To say nothing of the pariah status of anyone from Elsteron was given in the years after the plague. To leave your past behind and earn some coin and fame, you joined the Yellow Stripes. Seemed like a good choice at the time. [[Continue.|avatalkmenu]] A land that runs on wine and dyes. Beautiful, warm, and situated on a western archipelago, it's far from many of the problems local to Lytria, Tappahannock, and the hotbed of strife around Elsteron. Given its relative neutrality, and difficulty to attack, Bellaforat gained a reputation as a country of mercenaries. The Yellow Stripes recruit from it often, and you joined up. It seemed like a good choice at the time. <<ava>>"Perhaps I will visit there sometime. Wine and dyes? Coastal views, pleasant winds? You make it sound like a paradise. I'm not sure why you'd ever leave for... this place."<</ava>> [[Continue.|avatalkmenu]]<<ava>>"I'm not expecting anyone today," Ava begins, not looking up to you as she scratches some words to a parchment. "If we get any visitors, turn them away."<</ava>> She instructs you to guard her close, watching outside her room's door directly, and that people may freely enter from the door below. The door at the foot of the stairs opens and a disheveled-looking man enters. His clothes look like they were expensive at some point but are now full of holes and stains. <<generic>>He croaks, and smells of alcohol, when he speaks. "I've got a thing or two to show and trade. Do I speak with you, or?"<</generic>> [[Guide him in to Ava's office.|work2a]] [[Turn him away. No visitors.|work2b]]<<ava>>"I am expecting a buyer today. It may be them, or perhaps an agent of theirs. So you may see some gruff types. Let them in, alright?"<</ava>> You nod and comprehend. The morning passes, and when noon arrives the suspect in question comes. A large, sleek, black-furred panther with a ghastly look to him. He mean mugs you the entire trip up the stairs, and once he reaches them you realize he towers over you by a foot. Not just that, but he's quite broad in the shoulders as well, chest crossed with bandoliers of knives, strapped close to a leather cuirass. <<generic>>"Move, I'm here to see a woman named Ava. Unless you're her?" He snarls a laugh, whiskers perking up in a self-satisfied smile.<</generic>> [[Politely and meekly allow him in.|work3a]] [[Allow him in, but keep a stiff upper lip and a stern expression.|work3a]] [[Turn him away.|work3b]] You allow the slob through, right into Ava's office. When you open the door and she sees you, and who is entering, she casts a baleful eye at you, already red with frustration. A polite and put-on smile replaces her surprise. Oh right, she said no visitors. There is some muffled awkwardness and soon enough the man is turned away looking downtrodden. A moment later, once the man had returned to the streets from whence he came, Ava exits her office. She looks a you with mild anger, standing on her tip-claws and smacking your head once with a scroll. Lightly, of course, not that her frail bird body could produce much strength. <<ava>>"No visitors means. No smelly hobos, $name. Here is your pay for the day, you're dismissed. Thank you!" Her voice strains with the irritation she's trying to conceal.<</ava>> ''You receive 30 gold for your time.'' [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 30>> Ava said no visitors. So you turn him away. He tries making a stink about it but putting your hand on your sword's hilt gets him to shut up and back off. Simple as that. He grumbles back to the street where he belongs. In time, Ava exits from her office smelling of ink and incense. <<ava>>"Good work today, $name. We're all done for now."<</ava>> ''You receive 30 gold for your time.'' [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 30>> He bumps into your shoulder as he passes, giving you a disingenuous thank you. Ava seems a little surprised at the glimpse you catch of her, but she closes the door behind the panther. Quiet talking between them ramps up, and as you stand guard you can sense the tension in the room elevating. You can't quite hear what they're saying but the conversation is getting heated. She's a shrewd woman, she can likely handle herself. Then again, your job is to bodyguard and assist her. Sometimes assisting means making sure things don't escalate. [[Leave it be. Ava can handle it.|3a1]] [[Enter the room to check up on her.|3a2]] You inform him Ava isn't available right now, and that he should find a milk bucket to suckle from somewhere else. He rolls his eyes but relents, throwing his hand up and exiting. At the end of the day when Ava asks if anyone arrived, you lie and tell her no. She accepts it and shrugs, paying you out for the day. ''You receive 30 gold for your time.'' [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 30>> You take a deep breath and decide to let her be. She can handle it. Besides, that panther looked like a rough customer. The heated talk quiets, which makes you think it was all nothing. Until a new sound comes from the office. The shuffle of tables and paper, the creak of floorboards, the sharp and unsure hints of Ava's voice, and the grunts of the masculine panther. Sounds you try to pretend aren't moans seep through the walls. After another period of quiet, the panther exits. This time he's readjusting himself and his gear, giving you a smug and confident glower as he carries on down the stairs. You slip into Ava's room after he leaves to find her out of sorts. She looks disheveled, her robe and clothes ruffled up, feathers fluffed, and catching her breath. The air smells slightly of something familiar. You think it could be semen. In a tired, annoyed tone she acknowledges you. <<ava>>"Thank you for letting our guest in, you can collect your pay from the coffer and take your leave."<</ava>> She gestures to a small lockbox on her desk with a claw, trying to get her robe back around herself properly. You notice that her thighs and nethers are covered by the robe's ends, but her legs are spread wide. You collect your pay and retreat from her. ''You receive 30 gold for your time.'' [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 30>> Things can't get too heated, you decide, and enter unannounced. Immediately the panther growls and throws a look over his shoulder at you. Ava seems relieved and smiles slightly, the feathers on her head's crest settling down. You notice the ne'redowell's hand drifting toward the short blade at his hip, but you quickly match his disposition by immediately drawing your sword an inch from its blade. The tension is thick, it feels like you'd have to cut through it before even reaching him. You've fought bigger than him and won, you can handle this. That familiar beat of adrenaline just means you're alive and excitement is around the corner. He relents, thankfully, turning back to Ava. You sheath your weapon, satisfied. <<generic>>"Fine, the agreed price then." The rogue procudes a coin pouch and after your crane employer thanks him with overly smug courtesy, she hands him a small palm-sized parcel.<</generic>> He collects it, stands, and dusts himself off with a grumble. Off he goes, past your watchful eye and out the building. <<ava>>"Great work today, $name. Thank you!" Ava practically tosses herself into your arms, giving you a hug. That's a surprise!<</ava>> <<ava>>Her warm beak brushes against your neck and cheek briefly before she lets go. "Your pay, I've got it. I'm closing shop for the day to retire to my quarters. Good evening~"<</ava>> ''You receive 30 gold for your time.'' [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $playerCoins += 30>> Her eyes light up before you even finish, and she grabs and tussles your hair. <<boartender>>"Out of that armor, lad. I call top bunk."<</boartender>> Fast as you can for a man in a warrior's kit, you undo your defenses. Something a bit treacherous about stripping down to your skivvies with a woman who has tusks. Never know when you say the wrong thing, she might gore you. What strips away all that fear and makes the neurons begin firing is when she pulls off her own bottoms and panties, revealing a lewd, sweet-scented hole she intends to bury your face in. With her hand she spreads the labia, pulling forward a bit to flash the delicious, soft pink walls to you. <<boartender>>"On your back, on the double," she hisses, stepping forward to close in on you with a clop of her hoof.<</boartender>> Ma'am, yes ma'am, you stop yourself from blurting out, laying on your back and shivering at the first touch of the cold stone. <<boartender>>"Worry not, this will warm you."<</boartender>> Her shadow looms over you menacingly as she gets into position, a glistening thread of silvered, clear arousal hanging down from her cunt as she looks past her tits at you. She doesn't ask if you're ready and probably doesn't care, before squatting down and burying your mouth and lips to her pussy and your nose right against her asshole. The raw, unfiltered scent of a ripe boar woman clouds your mind with each panicked lungful. The muffling of your whole face between her thighs gets the survival instinct going and you feel yourself cup the underside of her ass to nudge her off. Until she barks a command that reminds you of your place. <<boartender>>"Lick you duffer, it's not going to eat itself!"<</boartender>> Yes, right! Lick! And so you do, brushing your whole tongue and mouth against her cuntlips, nudging against it and grinding your whole face against her boar-snatch. It isn't long before your tongue is soaked through with her bitter hog tang, and shorter still before she's hollering up at the ceiling. The act, the scent, and the weight of her upon you is all enough to make your cock rock hard and pointed straight up to the ceiling you have her saying prayers to. But where is your end of the bargain? In a single gulp, she dives forward and causes a shock just as potent as being face-sat by her. Your whole shaft is swallowed up by her to the balls with not so much as the hint of a gag. Even with your ears being muffed by her cheeks you can hear the gluk-gluking sound of what feels like the sloppiest toppy a man has ever been treated to. She gets her long and broad tongue curled around your cock and practically strokes it while letting you thrust and fuck up against the back of her throat. Do boars lack a gag reflex? This one must, with how your moving hips do nothing to halt her. The wet, tickling sensation of her porker nose against your balls, when she goes all the way down, feels splendid, each sniff of your genitals like she's hunting for truffles giving you a feeling of dominion over her. She seems enamored with your dick and you're more than happy to oblige her further by sucking pussy. Your efforts become more ragged as an orgasm builds, and panting and licking entwine as you feel an edge ride up your dick's length. Ana slams down on you firmly with her ass, grinding left and right and squealing like the pig she is, the shock and smothering between her thighs does you in. You slap your balls against her nose as you empty their contents into her mouth, across that long torturous tongue, and down her throat. All the while you're drowned in pig-slick as she squirts an orgasm against your face, letting you drink in all that tangy, tingling girlcum. The two of you spend a few moments in a dazed afterglow, before shakily putting yourselves together. You agree she should go out first, and then you a few minutes after. This way no one suspects anything untoward occurred in the back. Where all the moaning, squealing, and wet sounds were coming from. [[Continue.|splithoof]]<span class="img600">[img[setup.img + 'boartender.png']]</span> Baratier takes Athani's letter with a nod of thanks and splits it open with a nail immediately. You watch as his golden eyes trace whatever words are on the page with a myriad of emotions. His expression runs the gamut between mild amusement, joy, confusion, and irritation. The subtle shifts in the skin of his ophidian features and the twitch of his obsidian scales clue you into his thoughts if only a little. <<bara>>"You didn't read this?"<</bara>> You shake your head no, of course not. <<bara>>"It's all Athani's collected regarding rumors and secrets on those in places of power in Tappahannock. Not exhaustive, but it's a start. The Madame, more than just a brothel, is running a rumor mill. That's a valuable asset."<</bara>> His tongue snaps as he speaks with a viperous, almost angry intent. <<bara>>"I intend to persuade the Madame to put that rumor mill to my use. Athani's letter mentions a little black book that Ji keeps in her office. I want you to steal it from her, and bring it to me. It'll be our bargaining chip. I'd rather it not come to blows, so let's see if we can't coerce her with her own blackmail."<</bara>> Satisfied with his scheme and your ability to carry it out, Baratier reclines in his seat and flexes his wings in a singular proud beat. <<bara>>"Think you can handle a task like that? They'll be a fat purse of gold and promotion in it for you. Lots of risk though. I can't come save you if you get caught, $name.<</bara>> <<if $prostitute is true>>\ A sly, treacherous smile plays itself across his lips and his eyes become a dazing glitter of gold. <<bara>>"By the way, it's come to my attention that you have worked for the Madame before, I'd like to speak with you about that."<</bara>> <</if>>\ [[Accept the job, steal the Madame's book.|baratier6accept]] [[Give it some thought first.|baratier6decline.]] You accept Baratier's task. He finds this pleasing and lets you be on your way, imparting on you a need for hasty completion. Hiring a prostitute would let you get into the back end of the brothel, which might be a path to finding the book. <<nobr>><<if $prostitute is true>>You've worked at the High Tail before, you could try sneaking the book from the Madame after a shift?<</if>><</nobr>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $baratierStage to 7>><<bara>>"I can't wait around forever. If you don't do it, I'll get someone else to." His features warp into a small snarl before shooing you away.<</bara>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]]<<ji>>The Madame gives you a withering glower, examining you a moment. "Where is my office? Why do you care?"<</ji>> You try to play it off as being interested in her and her services, ones of the amorous variety. <<ji>>This makes her mood turn around, smirking. "Well, I appreciate your patronage in the High Tail, but I am retired, young man."<</ji>> [[Continue.|hitailjitalk]] <<ji>>"Annoying little skink that one is. Thinks he's so high and mighty because he's got a bit of gold and jewels."<</ji>> She wafts her hand at the air, as if fanning away his pretension. Amusingly, you spot a large gold ring on her finger. <<ji>>"I know him, and some things about him he doesn't want me to know. Like his right-hand girl's political maneuvering, or how he came into all that money campaigning in the west."<</ji>> <<if $class is "fighter">>\ You wonder if she means the petty kingdoms west of Tappahannock. A revolving cart's wheel of warlords, half-baked claimants, and revolutionaries. The Yellow Stripes had their heyday there, though you've only heard the tales secondhand. The wealth has all long since been drained. The prize of ruling over a pile of dirt appeals to some. <</if>>\ You thank her for that tidbit, and don't press it further. Better to not test your luck. [[Continue.|hitailjitalk]] After you and the courtesan share a passionate, paid fuck, you linger. The rooms upstairs have a decent flow of johns and whores alike. You know you can't stick around too long, but you try your best to scout. Standing a bit awkwardly outside your room, you look left and see the stairs that you were led up. And right, to the bend of the hallway continuing on. The worn, red carpet below you muffles the sound of your boots, but not the giggles and moans of the hookers in their rooms and from the lounge. The doors all had a sort of wear to them, as did the faded wallpaper and carpet. Fake-glam, its luster lost to time and daily use. Reminds you of the Madame. The smell of pussy and cum hangs heavy in the air. The Madame is downstairs playing her part of host, probably,<<if $prostitution is false>>but where is her office?<</if>> You peer around at the end of the hall and spy a set of stairs leading down, and catch a girl going down there too. <<if $prostitution is false>>Shaking free of observing her furry kitty butt, you realize you have no clue where those stairs lead.<<else>>That leads down to the private areas, and the Madame's office!<</if>> You could head down there to look, or keep searching your current floor. [[Current floor.]] [[Down the mystery stairs.]] You ask for Athani's services, and before she can really scowl at you and give you the what for you reveal your designs to her. Understanding your conspiracy, she takes you up to her room. <<generic>>"The Madame's book, right? I've tried swiping it myself but she's around it like a hawk. I don't think she trusts me."<</generic>> You press her for any ideas. Sat cross-legged on the bed, the serval sways a bit as she thinks. Her tail whaps left and right, opposite whichever way she's tilting. She's dressed in a bit of a shawl to cover her body more than her uniform usually allows. <<generic>>"I might have something. The Madame doesn't care about a damn thing except when clients hit her girls. She doesn't tolerate it." The serval's considerate and appreciative tone suddenly becomes hush and a snarl rumbles from her throat. "Unless they really pay for it."<</generic>> The idea ferments a bit. Pretend to get into a scuffle with Athani, get into the Madame's office to resolve it? <<generic>>"It could work. She doesn't like me much, but she'd love to chew you out I'm sure."<</generic>> With that plan in mind, you and her act your best. A tussle, a tumble, and a bit of shouting. Given her fur, there isn't much of a need to make any visible marks, but Athani gives you some superficial scratches to your cheek. The play here being you'll deny hitting her. Gives the two of you an excuse to be with the Madame together. Athani storms down the to lounge, with you in tow, making a big stink about the whole ordeal. [[Continue.|athani3]] You fumble around a bit aimlessly. Each door is closed, dead empty or producing the sounds of ecstasy. Testing each one by ear and touch, you find your efforts frozen up by indecision and uncertainty. While looming by a door that sounded silent, you find it opening before you can pull back. A short little bunny girl, cum across her belly, thighs and mouth, gasps up at you. Her beige fur is accented with the white of someone's ballsnot. <<generic>>"Aaaaah! Gah! You scared me you big lug!" She pushes past you, shaking her head and heading off. No clothes and covered in semen, average for a bunny. <</generic>> Before you can fully appreciate that and divest yourself of the rush of adrenaline, the borzoi from the lounge stalks up to you. <<minerva>>"Can I help you?" Minerva asks with a cool but accusatory inflection. She knows you're up to no good, for one reason or another.<</minerva>> She hushes up your excuses and hurries you back to the lounge. <<minerva>>"If your paid time is up, pay for more or scram. No freebies, and for the love of all that is holy don't start with some 'I love her' sob story." She is already preemptively rolling her eyes, but ushers you away all the same.<</minerva>> It has to be down those other stairs, where the cat went down. [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] With care and as much stealth as you can muster, you follow along down this 'secret' path. Notably the decorations here are quite bland, and you realize soon that the stairs lead to the back of the lounge's stage. By good providence or dumb luck, no one questions you probing around. Good. You act like you know what you're doing and where you're going. The girls must have a bath or washing area here, as you find a few of them soaked to the fur and wrapped in towels. They give you a funny look but can't be arsed to speak more to you. You feel a firm tap on your shoulders. Two, probing fingers, poking you. Spinning around you find the borzoi from the lounge. <<if $prostitution is false>> <<minerva>>"You're not supposed to be back here," Minerva declares through bared teeth. She knows you're up to no good, for one reason or another.<</minerva>> She hushes up your excuses and hurries you back to the lounge. <<minerva>>"No excuses, no clients are allowed back there."<</minerva>> [[Continue.|howto]] <<else>> <<minerva>>"Picking up a shift?" Minerva looks over you. "You don't have your cage on. You can't work without it."<</minerva>> [[No, just got in.|declineshift]] [[Yes, you're here to work.|barwork]] <</if>> How are you meant to get around back there? You stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe Athani could help you. You're on the same team, right? [[Continue.|hitaillounge]]<<minerva>>"Clients aren't allowed to be here. More than that, you without your cage isn't allowed back here."<</minerva>> Minerva grabs your junk judgementally, squeezing it and making you meep. <<minerva>>"Get lost. You know your way out."<</minerva>> [[Continue.|hitaillounge]] You stick around, chatting with the Madame and seeking a time to search her office. She pays you little mind, focused on some letter and her own business, enjoying the small talk for a little bit. Eventually she stands, and just leaves. Freezing up, you watch with hopeful apprehension as her wide butt disappears from her door's threshold to beyond. You hear her hollering after a girl down the hall, her voice trailing off as she must be walking away. Now is your golden chance! You search the room with your eyeballs, keeping yourself from the urge to toss the place. A little black book, just like described, is tucked inside the first drawer of her desk. You swipe it, and stow it. The walk from her room has bullets of sweat trickling down your brow and snout but she and Minerva are nowhere to be seen. Feeling like you've pulled off an excellent heist, you swiftly exit the brothel. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $hasJibook to true>> <<set $baratierStage to 8>><<bara>>"Have my book?"<</bara>> You shake your head no, no luck. <<bara>>"Try asking Athani for help if you haven't already. The rest is in your hands."<</bara>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] It draws some eyes that you're unsure about, but seeing how it is disturbing the other clients, Madame Ji is quick to hush you both up and drag you to her office. <<ji>>"What is it all you're saying?" the Panda woman asks, squinting at you with an accusing gaze.<</ji>> Athani, for her part, is an excellent actress. Owing mostly to her being a rageholic, once she gets into her performance she is bouncing off the walls. <<generic>>"This slack-jawed, heavy-handed, scum-sucking, limp-dicked groveller gets his jollies putting bruises on girls and I bet I'm not the first one!"<</generic>> The serval points a claw at you, her animated hands and arms flailing about as she emphatically pantomimes her complaints. Madame Ji looks to you now, giving you a moment to speak. Before you do, you scan the room and find her black book, on a shelf behind her. Looks very worn down and well-used. The edges are battered and frayed and the binding is cracked and manhandled. [[You may have hit her, but she used her claws first!|athani4]] [[You didn't hit her at all. She's a complete nut.|athani4]] Madame Ji doesn't seem too impressed by what you have to say, standing up and getting herself interposed between you and Athani. With her attention on you, Athani snakes further behind her broad-beamed backside and tries to finagle toward the shelf. <<ji>>"Athani has been a troubled girl since she joined but I don't think she'd lie about this."<</ji>> The older woman pokes your chest with her finger. For dealing with someone who supposedly hits women she's quite confident. You wonder if she has some tricks up her sleeve. Your serval ally, crafty as ever, swipes the book while the Madame has her eyes on you. Professing your innocence, you try to hold the panda's attention until Athani can get back to a reasonable position, the book having disappeared into her loose clothing. <<ji>>"It's he-said, she-said, and I'm going to have to trust the word of my girl. She's unhurt enough to be bellowing, and I see you've got some scratches on you. Did she put up a good fight?"<</ji>> There wasn't a fight, you continue, she's just a psycho! Which, so far as you can tell, is true. <<generic>>Athani pipes in. "Maybe I overstated the severity of things, Miss Ji. Maybe he can just, pay a little fine?"<</generic>> <<ji>>The Madame smirks, "that'll do."<</ji>> Satisfied by gold, the Madame extorts you for some coins, which Athani pays you as the two of you depart. <<generic>>She entrusts the book to your care and once more asks, "See if Baratier is letting me quit this assignment, will you?"<</generic>> Book in hand, you exit the High Tail - assuring Athani that you'd ask. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $hasJibook to true>> <<set $baratierStage to 8>> <<if $seraStage is 1>>\ You travel from Skeelhowl further east, and north, along the main road. By foot, it doesn't take too long. The barony of Slopespine is aptly named. The territory's village is worked into the side and bottom of a particularly pointed hill. The perch of which sits the keep of the town. Among the visible population is a collection of mostly boars but with a noticeable number of gnolls. One of the local Baroness' titles did mention a gnoll uprising, now they appear to be part of the populous. The town itself is quaint, with a sprawl of townhomes fanning out into a partial countryside. It's peaceful here, detached from the busier and disrupted border with Tappahannock. Invited by the baroness herself, you make your way through the town and up to her home. The walls of the keep are tall and aged. The marks of war have marred its face, perhaps some left over from that gnoll uprising. Turrets and parapets look down at you with foreboding, black slits for eyes. The guards at the gate allow you passage once you announce who you are and what you're there for. The fort's courtyard isn't drab but has few amenities, following a spartan and militaristic design. There, the baroness Velomouth waits in casual clothing. A fountain's soft trickle sets the background sound, with the twitter of birds here and there as they come to bathe and drink from the water. Outside of her armor, her hefty and rotund body is plain and heavyset but firm with muscle. Her snout sniffs at you, tusks held high in pride at herself and her station. A prickling runs through your body as you recall your first meeting with her. <<baron>>"So, you've accepted my invitation. Prostrate yourself before your baroness. Plant a kiss to my hooves." She clasps her hands behind her back.<</baron>> [[Accept, kneel and kiss the baroness' hooves.|seraKisshooves]] [[Stand up tall and refuse.|seraRefusehooves]] <<else>>\ The barony of Slopespine is aptly named. The territory's village is worked into the side and bottom of a particularly pointed hill. The perch of which sits the keep of the town. Among the visible population is a collection of mostly boars but with a noticeable number of gnolls. One of the local Baroness' titles did mention a gnoll uprising, now they appear to be part of the populous. The town itself is quaint, with a sprawl of townhomes fanning out into a partial countryside. It's peaceful here, detached from the busier and disrupted border with Tappahannock. You have liberty to explore the grounds as you see fit. [[Return to Skeelhowl.|skeelhowl]] [[Visit the kitchens.|ssKitchens]] [[Visit the guards.|ssGuards]] [[Visit Seraphina's room.|ssRoom]] [[Rest at Slopespine for the day.|seraExit]] <<set $seraLink = 'sera' + $seraStage>>\ <<link 'Visit Seraphina in the main hall.' $seraLink>><</link>> <</if>> You accept. You'll submit in such a manner. The heat of humiliation burns in your cheeks but it ripples pleasantly in your loins. It's hard not to feel so burdened by the impressive, imposing aura of the baroness of Slopespine. She stands tall and proud as you sink lower and lower. Once you're past her hip, kneeling, you detect the scent of her breechcloth. Ripe with delicious, addictive, heady boar-bitch musk. Even your weak senses are enthralled by the pheromones she is slick with. Is this arousing her? She shifts her right hoof closer, the cloven thing taps to the cobblestones until your lips get close. <<baron>>"That's right, $name. Kiss. Obey."<</baron>> With a forward tilt you do, giving a kiss to her hoof and showing her you're below her in every sense of the word. The taste of earth lingers on your lips as you press them deep, a slight wet sound barely audible with your mark of submissive fealty. <<baron>>"You may stand, up."<</baron>> With a tremble you do so, dimly aware that you're bricked up. ''Kissing her hooves makes you more submissive in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespineTour]] <<set $boarSub += 1>> You refuse. Tilting your chin up, you cross your arms and declare you won't bend the knee. If she wants your presence she should respect you. Her eyes flare and widen in consideration, simmering. She leans forward, her imposing height lowering to meet yours. Her wet, piggy nose sniffs close to you, the threat of her tusks to your face real and present. <<baron>>"Is that so?"<</baron>> [[Waver.|boarHooveswaver]] [[Hold strong.|boarHoovesstrong]] Satisfied with your greeting, she gives you a rough pat on the shoulder and leads you past the fountain and into the great hall of the fortress. Given there is no great threat and the day is still young, the doors remain open. The hall and architecture around is quite boarish. That is to say, a bit brutal and to the point. Some trappings of comfort adorn the walls of the main hall, but boars do not take to displays of wealth like humans and others do. Accomplishment in battle is their reward. To that effect, the Baroness' walls are beautified by all manner of weaponry. You realize quickly that much of it is captured. Some things are disordered, not repaired nor maintained. Others are clean and humbling to look at. Envy strikes you at the sight of some of the blades and maces on display. Working with the disheveled state of some items, the items have been placed to tell a story of sorts. Progressing deeper into the hall, you feel like the blades and bows culminate in a crescendo of violence. You wonder if it is boar or gnoll blood on the red rusted edge of the weapons. She analyzes your expression closely. She feels no need to hide the amusement and pride she feels at having you observe. The weaponry is most certainly from gnolls, at least the lesser pieces are. <<baron>>"What do you think, $name?"<</baron>> [[You're impressed. Beauty and strength in one package.|slopespineToura]] [[It's a testament to her skills as a warrior and leader. Stirring.|slopespineTourb]] [[You offer her a reserved reaction, keeping your feelings close to your chest.|slopespineTourc]] A slight tremble rumbles your lip and at the sight of that, she grins wildly. Simultaneously she sweeps one of your legs and catches your head as you tumble forward. Your hands go out to brace yourself, grasping at her pudgy and fat tummy. She holds the back of your neck and forces you down to your knees, burying your head under her musky breechcloth. The smelly, sweaty scent of boar pussy chokes you, unable to pull away and in small part not wanting to. She rubs and shoves your face between the fat of her thighs to her mons and lower still to her pussy, trapped only by some fabric. <<baron>>"Breathe deep, and learn your lesson 'under' me, not alongside me, $name."<</baron>> She holds you a moment more before pushing you back. You stagger and rebalance yourself, gasping for fresh air, your nose tingling with the power of her scent. ''Your weakness makes you more submissive in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespineTour]] <<set $boarSub += 1>> Stalwart, resolute and unflinching, you steel up your position. You dig in your heels and refuse to budge. Her scowl cracks at the edges of her lips, the crease of a smile spreading across her snout. Finally, the mask falls to a full and firm laugh. <<baron>>She slaps your bicep roughly, "Strength and dignity even after a defeat?"<</baron>> A defeat in battle isn't the end of the war, you remind her. <<baron>>"We might make a boar of you yet."<</baron>> ''Your determination makes you more dominant in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespineTour]] <<set $boarDom += 1>><<baron>>She is mildly surprised by your answer but clearly enjoys your words, saccharine or not. "Keep talking like that and we'll get along."<</baron>> <<baron>>"You're likely wondering why I invited you here. So I will be plain."<</baron>> The Baroness steps closer to you, having to look down at you past her breasts. You wonder for a second what it would be like to be smothered there. <<baron>>"I want you to be one of my liebgarden. But I need you to earn my trust more completely. Do you know that tradition and what it entails?"<</baron>> Of course. Being a veteran of a few battlefields, and a human, you know the role well. Liebgarden are guardians of nobility. Sometimes an honorary position, other times closer to a housecarl. If a liebgarde is on the battlefield, their focus should be protecting their liege. <<baron>>"We boars offer the position to those we trust and like. You're an attractive man, and I detect you have an honest heart. Perhaps you could prove useful to me. If not on the battlefield, then the bedroom. I always have need of a sweat rag." She chuffs a deep, salacious laugh, but her voice holds no notes of play. She means each word.<</baron>> [[You can't accept that position, you aren't interest in being beneath her.|seraRouteDeny]] [[You'd be overjoy to work as her sweatrag. It's what human men are for anyway.|seraSweatrag]] [[You'd be honored to serve the Baroness. Your life and steel are hers.|seraSteel]]<<baron>>She stands tall and proud, examining the walls once more. "We felled ten of those mangefurs for every one of our men."<</baron>> <<baron>>"You're likely wondering why I invited you here. So I will be plain."<</baron>> The Baroness steps closer to you, having to look down at you past her breasts. You wonder for a second what it would be like to be smothered there. <<baron>>"I want you to be one of my liebgarden. But I need you to earn my trust more completely. Do you know that tradition and what it entails?"<</baron>> Of course. Being a veteran of a few battlefields, and a human, you know the role well. Liebgarden are guardians of nobility. Sometimes an honorary position, other times closer to a housecarl. If a liebgarde is on the battlefield, their focus should be protecting their liege. <<baron>>"We boars offer the position to those we trust and like. You're an attractive man, and I detect you have an honest heart. Perhaps you could prove useful to me. If not on the battlefield, then the bedroom. I always have need of a sweat rag." She chuffs a deep, salacious laugh, but her voice holds no notes of play. She means each word.<</baron>> [[You can't accept that position, you aren't interest in being beneath her.|seraRouteDeny]] [[You'd be overjoy to work as her sweatrag. It's what human men are for anyway.|seraSweatrag]] [[You'd be honored to serve the Baroness. Your life and steel are hers.|seraSteel]] Whatever she feels about your cold words she hides. It's just as well. <<baron>>"You're likely wondering why I invited you here. So I will be plain."<</baron>> The Baroness steps closer to you, having to look down at you past her breasts. You wonder for a second what it would be like to be smothered there. <<baron>>"I want you to be one of my liebgarden. But I need you to earn my trust more completely. Do you know that tradition and what it entails?"<</baron>> Of course. Being a veteran of a few battlefields, and a human, you know the role well. Liebgarden are guardians of nobility. Sometimes an honorary position, other times closer to a housecarl. If a liebgarde is on the battlefield, their focus should be protecting their liege. <<baron>>"We boars offer the position to those we trust and like. You're an attractive man, and I detect you have an honest heart. Perhaps you could prove useful to me. If not on the battlefield, then the bedroom. I always have need of a sweat rag." She chuffs a deep, salacious laugh, but her voice holds no notes of play. She means each word.<</baron>> [[You can't accept that position, you aren't interest in being beneath her.|seraRouteDeny]] [[You'd be overjoy to work as her sweatrag. It's what human men are for anyway.|seraSweatrag]] [[You'd be honored to serve the Baroness. Your life and steel are hers.|seraSteel]]<<baron>>This hits her as a deep insult. She turns her snout up at you. "Then be dismissed. Go from my lands. Don't return."<</baron>> [[Leave.|skeelhowl]] <<set $seraStage to 0>><<baron>>She licks her lips and snout wetly and leans down to you. "I love a man who knows his place. You'll start right now. Huff my armpits, get used to it. You'll be spending a lot of time there."<</baron>> Without asking, she grabs your head. She lifts her arm up and immediately the scent of femboar sweat hits you like a cloud. Firm and strong, there is little you can do before your nose and lips are brushing wetly against her perspiration-soaked underarm. <<baron>>The saline and stink of her stuffy pit make you moan against her side. Satisfied, she pushes you away. "Fuck your hand to the memory of that scent later, boy."<</baron>> ''Your eagerness makes you more submissive in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespineTourend]] <<set $boarSub += 1>> <<set $seraStage to 2>><<baron>>She seems inspired by your words, and in admiration of your spirit. "It comes with a heavy wage and rights. That is, if you prove yourself useful."<</baron>> ''Your firm attitude makes you more dominant in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespineTourend]] <<set $boarDom += 1>> <<set $seraStage to 2>> She carries on with her tour of the grounds, showing you the kitchens, her private chambers, and the barracks. <<baron>>"For now, explore my home a little. No one should give you any trouble."<</baron>> <<baron>>She pats your butt and gives you a tusky smile. "Return to me when you're ready, and we can talk more about your position below me."<</baron>> [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] The kitchens are large, staffed by a boar at the head and lots of gnolls as his assistant. The head chef pays you little mind outside of a glance. He's too focused barking orders at his gnolls. They cackle and scurry around, looking a bit like mice found out by a cat. They scramble around collect ingredients and ferrying pots around. The scents are dense with spices that make your nose crinkle. You wonder why the kitchen would be producing so much food. They're definitely cooking in bulk. Bubbling pots of soup, and trays of bread and roast vegetables. Perhaps the kitchens serve both the barracks and the Baroness' home. Not wishing to disturb the cook and his men, you turn back to the main hall. [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] You wander the grounds to the guard's posting. The gatehouse is kept open it seems, but watchmen are still posted. You could introduce yourself and try to ingratiate yourself, or just carry on. First introductions are important. [[Speak with them, and act tough.|ssGuardtough]] [[Speak with them, and act gregariously.|ssGuardnice]] <<if $firstRoom is false>>\ The Baroness' room is shockingly girly. The tapestries on her walls depict cute, woodland creatures on green meadows. Stuffed dolls of a variety of sizes and shapes lay scattered about her bed and desk. Will you have to learn all their names someday? Aside from a stately, four-posted bed with curtains, the Baroness' has a desk, closet, private water closet, and a few lounging chairs in her room. The chairs sit beside a bear skin rug. You wonder for a moment who the sorry fucker was. Her room is an absolute mess. You could clean it. [[Clean her room.|ssRoomclean]] [[Leave it be.|slopespinehub]] <<else>>\ The Baroness' room is shockingly girly. The tapestries on her walls depict cute, woodland creatures on green meadows. Stuffed dolls of a variety of sizes and shapes lay neatly organized about her bed and desk. Will you have to learn all their names someday? Aside from a stately, four-posted bed with curtains, the Baroness' has a desk, closet, private water closet, and a few lounging chairs in her room. The chairs sit beside a bear skin rug. You wonder for a moment who the sorry fucker was. Her room is clean, thanks to your efforts. [[Return.|slopespinehub]] <</if>> With a fair bit of military experience under your belt, you know just how to straighten your back out to appear tough. A bit of posturing and pomp is common amongst mercenaries, fighting men and soldiers like these, and boars respect might. Given their unfamiliarity with you, and how you're presenting yourself, they're a little cold at first. You introduce yourself, your purpose here, and your relation to the Baroness. <<generic>>"The Baroness' new plaything?" One asks, a long scar across her eye and lip, culminating in a missing tusk. She side-eyes you with a mean look. "Humans get too big for their britches I think."<</generic>> <<generic>>"Aye! They do!" Another pipes up, his voice a bit blubbery with a portly affect. "Why don't you come by during the evening? We drink and play dice. We'll see what you're made of then."<</generic>> <<generic>>"You can hang, can't you?" A second male asks, surprisingly slim for a boar, wiry with muscle under his tanned hide.<</generic>> You certainly can, and you assure them you'll drink them under the table. But, it'll have to be when they're off duty. [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] Boars can be surly, but they can be quite riotously comedic as well. You approach the group with an amiable tone, open-armed and as equals. They're a little cold at first but begin to open up as you speak. You introduce yourself, your purpose here, and your relation to the Baroness. <<generic>>"The Baroness' got herself a boy toy?" One asks, a long scar across her eye and lip, culminating in a missing tusk. She gives you a sly smirk. "And what did you do to get into her pocket, eh?"<</generic>> <<generic>>A gurgling laugh comes from a portly male. "You reckon he is familiar with the Baroness' pocket yet?"<</generic>> <<generic>>"She'll have your tongue speaking like that," A second male elbows the fat one. He is surprisingly slim for a boar, wiry with muscle under his tanned hide.<</generic>> <<generic>>The scarred female refocuses on you. "Why don't you come by during the evening? We drink and play dice. So long as the Baroness doesn't need you for any nightly duties." She cackles.<</generic>> You certainly can join, and you assure them you'll drink them under the table. But, it'll have to be when they're off duty. [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] Before beginning a few thoughts run through your head. Why had no chambermaid done this? Perhaps she likes the chaos, and purposefully asks for it not to be clean. That would be bad. Secondly, how would cleaning her room make you look in her eyes? You contemplate these matters while gussying up her room. There is little dust or trash, thankfully, and mostly just a certain level of disorganization. Her stuffed animals you assemble around her desk, and the chairs, with a few on her bed. The bed gets made up, of course, and the curtains are drawn for ease of access. A few garments of hers are disregarded, and you assume unclean, so you gather them into a basket to deliver to the washerwoman. That's when you realize there is a pair of panties, worn of course, that you could exploit. [[Resist, you really shouldn't touch them.|ssCleanroomRes]] [[Indulge yourself, sniff them and jerk off.|ssCleanroomJerk]] You resist the tingle in your loins and decide not to. And good that you did. You grab the basket and make for the door only to find Seraphina blocking your path. Her features are dark, shaded partly with the doorway. Her hands on her hips, elbows producing a set of wings for her. <<baron>>"You cleaned my room?"<</baron>> With a small nod, you confirm that you did indeed clean her room. <<baron>>Her face breaks into a smile and she closes the distance. "That is very cute. Aren't you a good boy?" She assails your cheeks with the pinch of her fingers. "Handsome and hard-working, heaven above aren't you a prize?"<</baron>> She gives your bicep and grasp, feeling the muscles of your arm, while her free hand slides down your back. Your butt is given a little pat and you're pushed toward the door. <<baron>>"Get those dirty clothes to the washerwomen, go on. Good work by the way. I love it, $name."<</baron>> ''Your actions make you more submissive in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <<set $firstRoom to true>> <<set $boarSub += 1>> The intrusive thoughts win, and you find yourself kneeling by the wicker basket as you press the Baroness' used panties against your nose. The scent of her is deliciously arousing. A musky, familiar smell you've been inoculated with. Anytime you've drawn in the scent of Seraphina, pleasure has followed. Your body, well attuned to this, reacts in kind. Filling your hand with your hard cock, you stroke and stroke, thinking about your sexual experience with her. The fuck on the road in particular returns to your mind. <<if $cardPuncher is "the Baroness Seraphina Velomouth">>The thought of Seraphina ravashing your virginity from you makes you shudder. <</if>>A matronly, strong boar, riding you like a living dildo. You could feel your orgasm twitch up your spine already, the cloth kiss of the panties fabrics against your lips spurring it on. <<baron>>"Now what is this?" The Baroness' voice cuts through you like a blade.<</baron>> Your eyes flash open wide, peering at her darkening the threshold of the room. The great boar woman approaches; each hoof fall makes more goosebumps rise on your skin. <<baron>>"Couldn't resist the temptation? Or maybe you thought to reward yourself for your maidly duties?"<</baron>> She looks around at her cleaned-up room, seemingly pleased. But there is a sly sort of smile on her lips that tells you she's going to snatch this as a chance to dominate you. <<baron>>"What are you doing? Go ahead, finish. Finish *on* them."<</baron>> She draws in closer, standing over you. Her thick legs are right by your head as she watches you jerk off. Your hand has been moving on its own, moving up and down your dick while you watch her move. Being observed and commanded brings with it a whole juicy new lewdness to your activity. The ribbons of lust animate your masturbation. You move the panties from your nose and lay them across the floor, passionately aiming yourself over them with the promise of cumming just around the corner. <<baron>>Seraphine brushes your hair, "Good boy. Go on, have your treat. Cum for me."<</baron>> That does it, with a soft moan, you pant and spurt your essence onto the silky fabric of her used panties. Your seed squirts across where her pussy was once snugly held. <span class="img1000">[img[setup.img + 'jizzpanties.png']]</span> <<baron>>"So much. My, if you weren't already so busy with my panties I'd have asked for it on my face or tongue. For the time being, turn to me. Give me a kiss here." She taps at the spot between her legs, her snatch.<</baron>> Looking up at her feels a little comforting like you're being cared for. Her tapping and encouraging look prompts you to kiss right between her legs. Warm, and familiar; the pleasure of submission crafting the perfect afterglow. <<baron>>"Go on and take the rest of my garments to the washerwoman. Leave the panties though. I might wear them."<</baron>> [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <<set $firstRoom to true>> <<set $boarSub += 2>> The Baroness is caught off guard by your approach. Is it not a good time, perhaps? <<baron>>"I have a meeting with the military governor of the Axline," she lets the statement hang a moment, before adding with a tusky smile, "You have your choice of leaving the room or being between my legs for her visit."<</baron>> [[You won't be going anywhere, you'll stand beside her while she has her meeting.|sera2d]] [[Eat her out under the table.|sera2s]] Her face does nothing to hide her surprise, aghast at your upstart ways, but just then the doors of the meeting hall creak open. You stand as if you are at parade, hands clasped behind your back, boots heel to heel, and chin high. The military governor of Axline is adorned from clavicle to belly button with medals, cresting over her breast and down the tunic on her tummy with ribbons, awards, bars, and all assorted ornaments. Her status afforded her some wealth and comforts clearly, enough to put weight on to such a degree. That sort of fertile girth the baroness possessed this woman did too. <<generic>>She looks at you with suspicion and no respect. "A new assistant, Seraphina?"<</generic>> The Baroness merely groans, moving past it into greetings. The two of them talk with familiarity and rapport hinting at an older friendship. Standing watch while the upper crust bullshitted isn't new to you. It was a common occurrence among the Yellow Stripes, it is merely the reality of being a soldier of a lower rank. You operate on their time, not the other way around. With your hands clasped behind your back you're party to their conversation is silence, reduced to an ornament beside them. For the most part at least. Whether it's annoyance or suspicion driving it you can't tell, but Seraphina steals looks at you often which you fight not to return. Their talk is largely political and serious once it gets going. The current state of gnoll serfs, the border with Elsteron, and trouble with the Yellow Stripes. Now that one catches your ear. It is strange that the Yellow Stripes seem to be milling about in the territory of Tappahannock, using it as a base to raid Lytria. You could pipe up and mention you're a member of the Yellow Stripes, but perhaps it's best you hold your tongue. Interrupting a pair of nobles speaking, when you're a peasant and a human at that would just be inviting disaster. After some internal deliberation, you keep quiet... you can tell the baroness later at your convenience. <<generic>>"And who is this little toy you've picked up?"<</generic>> <<baron>>The baroness drags her eyes across you, pointedly examining you. "This bite-sized snack? Found him on the road, liked him. Pressed him into service."<</baron>> The governor thinks for a moment. You're certainly thinking too. Was the Baroness just lying to cover your presence there or did she really want you under her ownership? <<generic>>"He any good with that sword?"<</generic>> <<baron>>"Good enough," Seraphina says with a lick of her snout. The low, bassy grumble of her words hints at a double entendre which the governor cackles at.<</baron>> <<generic>>"You sly cunt, Seraphina. You'll make the other sows jealous. Such a pretty pet this one is."<</generic>> Is that a blush creeping across your skin? You feel your cheeks and nose heat up with their words. Talking about you so plainly and casually feels tingly. It is always curious to hear a CO speak well of you as if you aren't there, better yet with erotic undertones. Some which way the conversation slips away from you as the center point, and you breathe a soft sigh of relief. When their talk comes to an end, the governor stands. <<generic>>"I'll linger in Slopespine a while, you can give me a tour of the grounds proper once I've settled in."<</generic>> She gives you a cutting look as she leaves, exhaling heavily against your cheek. You remain unflinching, she seems to take that well. The baroness says her goodbyes, and once the door is shut behind her noble friend she storms up to you with clacking hooves. "Think you're worthy of being privy to my conversations, human? If I didn't like the look of you so much I'd have gored you. Talks between nobles like that are only shared with the closest of bodyguards. Is that what you'll be now?" What at first appears to be blistering anger turns into a strangely aggressive arousal. She grabs between your legs, rubbing your junk with her hand and groping you forcefully. <<baron>>"Lot of balls disobeying me and staying in the room. I'll give you that."<</baron>> ''Your actions make you a little more resolute and dominating in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <<set $boarDom += 3>> <<set $seraStage to 3>> Before the governor of Axline arrives, you scoot under the hem of the tablecloth. It's a bit dark there, of course. The shielding from outside observers is quite tenuous, the skirt of the table only extending three-quarters of the way to the floor. The Baroness raised an inch from her seat to unbuckle and remove her pants, sliding them down her brown furry thighs to her hooves and spreading her legs. Best of all was the sight of her sitting back down, and moving aside the curtain of her breechcloth. Your mouth salivates at the steamy sight of her boar-cunt. Her coochie was already a little slickened, dampening itself in anticipation of your service. How could you decline that? Shimmying forward on your knees you rest a cheek to her thigh and take a shuddering, appreciating sniff. The intoxicating smell of her superior presence lulls you into a submissive state. The door creaks with an opening, and you realize the governor has just entered, the clap of their hooves on the cobbles. As a final signal, Seraphina taps her labia with a finger before you see the cast of her shadows change as she turns to face her guest. <<generic>>"Seraphina, it's been too long!" A reserved, but distinctly boar-like, female voice says.<</generic>> You give a listen to their greetings, but dare not dally on your duty. You're down here to lick the baroness to make her meeting all the more bearable, so you get to it. With an opening set of kisses, you savor the slightly tangy, salty taste of her labia and wetness. Soft smooches and tender nuzzling, your nose buried in her mons fur, leads finally into tonguing. The governor and Seraphina begin catching up. Nothing more interesting to note, aside from the fact that their conversation hints they are at least somewhat familiar with each other socially. You don't focus much on that, with the sound being muffled by her thighs, it's a strain to hear anyway. Instead, you drag your tongue from the bottom of her cunt to the clit, rolling around in laps around her labia and diving further past her lips to her pussy's internal walls. Warmth kisses you back as your passions pick up. The strain in your pants tightens further, the arousal of her scent and this risky public play overwhelming you. Sucking the baroness' pussy becomes a hypnotic effort, diving deep into service your mistress and taking pleasure from her pleasure. As your work carries on, you can hear her voice get a little more strained. She becomes ever so more winded, sliver by sliver. Incrementally your suckling at her clit, or swirling of your tongue, coaxes more arousal from her honeypot. And lapping up her excitement just ignites the vicious cycle of more, and more. Minutes pass as their meeting carries on. You're sure the topic is very serious, but that's not your place to worry about. You wonder if it's time to change things up... [[Make your cunnilingus obvious, throw caution to the wind.|sera2s1]] [[Keep a slow and steady pace. Relaxed, not intense.|sera2s2]] You get a fire in you that demands you make this the wettest, sloppiest session of pussy-eating the Baroness ever has or ever will experience. With your hands on her thigh and knee, you tuck in. Suckling, licking, worshipping her hole with all the vigor you could muster. The high-pitched inhales from the baroness drive spur you on. She palms your forehead, trying to keep you off, to signal you to stop. No, forget the governor, this is your appointed task and you will keep to it. She squeezes your head between her thighs to muffle the sound but also from overbearing pleasure. There was no mistaking it, no matter how Seraphina might try to speak louder or fake a cough. There is the unmistakable sound of her getting head on the table. And what's worse, her huffing and puffing culminates with a sudden grab of your neck's nape. She cups you against her pussy as she cums across your lips and tongue. <<generic>>"What is that... sound?" The governor said, pulling up the skirt of the tablecloth to look.<</generic>> Finally coming up for air, splattered in girlcum, you gasp. A few glistening strings of Serophina's orgasm connect the two of you. <<generic>>"Seraphina! Have you had that human between your legs this whole time?" Her tone is thunderstruck but gravelly with curiosity and excitement.<</generic>> The baroness says nothing, panting and trying to find her words. You give a sly smile to the governor, and she gives one back, but sits up again. <<generic>>"Is he any good?"<</generic>> <<baron>>"Very good."<</baron>> <<generic>>"You'll have to loan him out to me."<</generic>> Seraphina nudges you aside with her knee as she pulls her pants up. In a musky daze, tired from your efforts, you just lay your cheek to her thigh and wait as they finish talking. Occasionally sniffing from her intoxicating scent. Soon enough the meeting comes to an end. She stands, leaving you under the table for a moment. They perhaps hug or shake hands, what little you can see isn't clear. She walks her guest to the door, and after a moment or two more of goodbyes, shuts the hall again and gives them some privacy. <<baron>>"Out from under the table, you slut," the Baroness growls, but it's with a lovely twinge of appreciation.<</baron>> When you do crawl from your hiding spot, she helps you to your feet roughly and aggressively. Her focused eyes have a blaze in the black of her pupils. Is she angry? She holds you with firm force, saying nothing but looking steaming mad. She grasps you by the biceps and with sudden force, presses you to a kiss. Her warm tongue laps up the flavor of her pussy from your mouth, and rolls itself against your tongue, forcing past your lips. <<baron>>When she stops, she speaks, "Thought that was a cute little trick did you? Liked being seen supping from my snatch?" Her angry facade is only thinly masking an intense arousal. "Careful who you do that around, the governor is a friend, but others wouldn't take it as kindly."<</baron>> Her strong, firm grip traverses your back and then lowers to your butt, groping you like you're a little toy. Well, not 'like', you are her little toy now. ''Your exhibitionist behavior makes you more submissive in her eyes, but your brazen behavior makes you more dominant in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <<set $boarSub += 5>> <<set $seraStage to 3>> The thought to amp your pussy-eating to something more intense crosses your mind but is hastily moved aside. What could be added is a few fingers. Nothing intense, your role is to provide the baroness with relief so she can focus, and be at ease. If she orgasms, that's a cherry on top, but not a direct goal. At least, not in the presence of the governor. Best not to risk it. With your right hand, you slip just two fingers into her depths, tracing the inner lip slowly and methodically, while your lips wrap around her aroused clit and begin nursing it. Her hand, when you do this, shoots under the table to the back of your head. Her breathing hastens. "Something wrong, Seraphina?" "Not at all, continue what you were saying. The gnoll serfs, acclimating well?" "Not exactly..." Seraphine pets the back of your head, firm and approving pats on your neck, brushing back your hair. Your fingers and mouth collaborate in service to her pleasure, searching for and giving attention to her textured g-spot. Your service continues until your jaw is sore, lips slobbery with her girlcum, tongue strained. The governor pushes her chair back and stands. The scratch of the chair to stone rouses you from your haze, how long have you been worshipping her piggypussy? "I'll linger in Slopespine a while, you can give me a tour of the grounds proper once I've settled in." Silently and discreetly as possible, Seraphina shoves your face away, making you gasp. She tugs her pants back up and buckles her belt stealthily, standing with her guest to see her out. "At your leisure, anything to make you feel at home you will have." They perhaps hug or shake hands, what little you can see isn't clear. She walks her guest to the door, and after a moment or two more of goodbyes, shuts the hall again and gives them some privacy. "Out from under the table, bitch," the baroness growls, but it's with a lovely twinge of appreciation. When you do crawl from your hiding spot, she helps you to your feet. Her focused eyes have a blaze in the black of her pupils. "You did wonderful, that tongue of yours is such a treat." She grasps you by the biceps and with sudden force, presses you to a kiss. Her warm tongue laps up the flavor of her pussy from your mouth, and rolls itself against your tongue, forcing past your lips. Her strong, firm grip cups your back and then lower to your butt, groping you like you're a little toy. Well, not 'like', you are her little toy now. ''Your dutiful work makes you more submissive in her eyes.'' [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <<set $boarSub += 3>> <<set $seraStage to 3>> Whilst touring the castle grounds and idly discussing battle strategy, apropos of nothing, Seraphina tackles you into a nearby wall. The empty halls thud with the sound of your back's impact to the stone. The fiery look in her eyes heralds doom for the cum in your balls, you can already tell. The big, handsy she-beast begins groping you. Her tusks press to your face as she conscripts you into making out with her. Her large hands grab your butt, your thigh, your back and neck. Shifting and rubbing across your body with a sensation that makes you feel small and possessed. You can't help but return the favor, your tongue twinning wetly with hers. The rough texture of her tongue and lips grating against your own. The sloppy sounds of your kissing and breathing grow louder as the intensity grows. You grab and cop feels of her chest, her ass, sinking your grip into her fluffy, firm, and thick body. <<baron>>"Stay still you runt," she growls.<</baron>> You have no intention of that, and she doesn't want you to stop feeling her up. The two of you become disheveled in short order, as bits of clothing come off here and there. The added scare of being caught has you constantly checking the hallway, but the baroness seems unfazed to say the least. She takes a deep whiff of your neck, licking across your shoulder to your chin. Kissing down and down, her piggy nose huffs the scent of your body as she squats deeply and comes tusk to hip with you, trapping your bulge between her curved stabbers. Roughly she unleashes your prick, your stiff human shaft flopping out to her muzzle. The drip of pre cum across her muddy-toned fur causes you to throb in excitement, thrilled at the sight of her kneeling before your dick. [[Give in to her.|sera3sub]] <<if $boarDom > 4>> [[Try to take control of her.|sera3dom]] <<else>> [[Try to take control of her.|sera3domfail]] <</if>><<if $class is "fighter" or $class is "thief">>\ Madame Ji's book is written entirely in her native tongue. Fluid and smooth strokes of ink across the wrinkled yellow parchment strike you as pretty, but incomprehensible. Hopefully, Baratier knows someone who can read this. <<else>>\ Madame Ji's book is written entirely in her native tongue. Fluid and smooth strokes of ink across the wrinkled yellow parchment strike you as pretty, but incomprehensible. Thankfully, you're an accomplished mage. With a bit of privacy and preparation, you're able to cast a spell to fathom foreign tongue and script. The notes within are much like you'd expect. The perversions and secrets of all the Tappahannock city council, big local merchants, and other significant players. Of particular amusement is just how much money a certain Councilman Harrow has 'donated' to Minerva. You pray he's gotten his dick wet for this fortune he's spent. There is also a note about 'Helarui', a name you recall from the potions shop sign. Banned for debauchery and some sort of unspecific violence. The Madame has no kind words for her. <<if $tribute > 0>> A blush falls on your cheeks when you realize you've got an entry. Ji has made note of the $tribute in gold you've 'donated' to the church of Minerva. <<if $cardpuncher is "Brandy">>There is a note regarding how Brandy was the one to take your virginity. <</if>> <</if>> <</if>> <<return>><<if $bunnyStage is 0>> While perusing the streets of Tappahannock, you verge closer and closer to Bottlesip Way. A chance at some red torch district fun crosses your mind, but it's quickly dashed. The sight of something far more immediate and alluring gets your attention. A female hare, with soft white and fluffy fur and a bright smile. She waves to you immediately. Politeness dictates you wave back, and whimsy has you twiddle your fingers with it. Something about her look makes you just giddy. She's short but stacked. A short stack, as it were. Top and bottom heavy not like you've seen a bunny before. Where they normally keep a slim and thin figure, this bunny looks absolutely fertile. If ever there was a case for the perfect breedable figure. To say she is dressed wouldn't be appropriate. Skimpy, see-through garb covered her most important bits. Her clothing matched almost that of a dancer's. To be out so flagrantly, dressed so skimpily, takes a lot of balls—theoretical ones. She appears all female. [[Approach the bunny-girl.|lekomeet2]] [[Bad bitches are bad news. Leave her be.|tappahannockhub]] <<else>> You feel as though you should have met with someone, but as you search, you find nothing but a pleasant walk around the city. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <</if>> Following the invitation's directions leads you to a cellar by the side of an establishment. 'The Leaky Vial.' Shops are closed at this hour, dark, dusty and derelict. But outside, folding his arms, was a tall and bleak looking stallion. He was dark of fur, potent in his masculinity. And oddly concealed by the white porcelain of a bunnymask. It lay strangely on his long snout, ears against his own tall one. He looked like a bulk of mean masculinity. Though, the bunnymask wasn't helping his brutal image. <<generic>>"Hello handsome, do you have an invitation?" He queries with a chipper voice. "And, a mask."<</generic>> You do indeed, you present the invitation to him and he looks it over. From the bridge of his long snout he exhales. No negative emotions are carried with his breath—moreso contentment. <<generic>>"Nice to see a $class of your stature joining the festivities. I can tell it's your first time. You don't have your mask on."<</generic>> You ask if it's expressly needed. <<generic>>"Absolutely is. You can't enter without it."<</generic>> You fetch the bunny mask from where you stowed it, and lay it over your face. It fits like a glove, resting gently on your ears and nose and feeling light as a feather despite the porcelain-like material. The feeling it gives you is one of equal lightness. Your head swims with a drunkenness already. <<generic>>"You look ready to play. You can leave your things anywhere you like. No thieves or miscreants here. Promise you that."<</generic>> You give the doorman a parting nod, and descend into the cellar. [[Continue.|bunnymask1-2]]<<ji>>"Know them? I hired a few bunnies from their number. Madness, it was. Complete madness. Hard workers, but insane. Customers always felt sore and tired after fucking them. But they'd come back to hit it again like they were possessed."<</ji>> The Madame shivers. You probe her a little more. <<ji>>"How else can I say it? The regulars who fucked those cultists - that's what they are, cult members - never walked away from it unchanged."<</ji>> You ask her if there are any in her employ currently. <<ji>>"Haven't you been listening? No. And you're better off leaving them alone."<</ji>> [[Continue.|hitailjitalk]] You sidle up to the bun and intend to find out what she was doing on this street corner. <<generic>>"Oh just looking for a good time, handsome!" She says, her voice twangy with a peasant accent. "Now tell me, did one just walk up to me?"<</generic>> [[No, you hate fun.|hatefun]] [[You're a ton of fun.|lekomeet3]]<<generic>>"Well, then get lost, dickless."<</generic>> She sucks her teeth and gives you a crude look, already looking elsewhere for a new person. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<generic>>"Just what I wanted to hear cutie. What's your name? $name. Oh my, I have a cousin named $name!" She chuckles and shakes her rump, her short little tail twitching. "I'm Leko."<</generic>> An apt name for a little sex gremlin such as herself. <<generic>>"Let's cut down to brass tacks, okay, $name? I want to be ejaculated in. Can you handle that?"<</generic>> <<if $virgin is true>>You pray she doesn't realize your lack of experience.<<else>>You have in fact ejaculated in someone before. And by the good grace of fate, you intend to do it again.<</if>> "I know a nice, quiet place where we can have some privacy. But if you want this wall behind me is pretty sturdy!" She chucks a thumb over her shoulder to the storefront behind her. Appealing as that was, you aren't looking for a fine for public lewdness. <<generic>>"Say, have you ever heard of the Bunnymasks?"<</generic>> You shake your head no, not a lick. <<generic>>"A lick? Well, we can do some of that if ya like!" She chuckles and waggles her butt a bit as she leads you along.<</generic>> She takes you at first deeper into Bottlesip Way, before making a sudden and sharp turn to the right. [[Continue.|lekomeet4]] Leko keeps looking over her shoulder at you, checking your impressions of the place. How Bottlesip Way leaked so seamlessly into a grove is beyond you. Stone pathways continued on into a small, neglected park. Overgrown and marked here and there with litter, the natural environment offered a secluded and hidden locale. Springy bushes shift with a breeze you can't feel and don't seem to be affecting her fur. Above you, tall and willowy trees brought only shade. They shield from sight all light from the sun and leaving only seductive gloom. A peculiar sense of being watched overcomes you. As you go deeper, some sense of uncertainty joins that observed feeling. But, any time your arousal begins to get beaten out by your concern, Leko is primed to bend over deeply in the path. Her thick ass parted with the motion just enough to get you a look at her leaking, glistening pussy. The intense yearning that arises when she flashes her sweet spot is unlike any pulse of arousal you've felt before. And far more connective. <<generic>>"Ready to be transported to another plane of existence?" Leko asks with glee. "Why don't we start with what my tongue can do for you?"<</generic>> [[Try her mouth.|lekomeet5]] It is with excellent elation you declare you want to drive your prick down her throat. <<generic>>"Oh boy, here I go sucking cock again!"<</generic>> Leko slipped her top over her head, tits bouncing down, delicious and bright pink nipples already budding with excitement. You take a quick look around, but find no one to observe your wrongdoings in this overgrown park. You undo your pants and let them fall to the side, simultaneously, Leko gets her knees down to the grass. <<if $class is "wizard">>Her immediate reaction to your stiff penis is underwhelming.<</if>>She grasps the base of your penis with her hand, stroking forward a few times with delicate and practiced efficiency. That is until a single droplet of prespunk develops at your tip. Her cute, triangle little sniffer twitches and perks up. And she dives your entire length into her throat. The sudden feeling makes your eyes bulge, and her throat swells with your cock. You grasp at her ears, stroking them, wincing at the splendid feeling of her throat choking down on your cock. The rocking of your hips becomes metronome-like, the pleasure flowing down from the top of your spine down to the base. A cold chill of pure, animal pleasure. It feels like her blowjob is rooting you to the ground its so good. Leko and you become woven together, the short stack bunny girl looks to you with a pleased smile. The smirk of a slut indulging herself in depravity mixes with the smile of a professional at work. All too soon, it's over. With a gasp and curl of your toes, you empty your balls down her throat. Leko moans and shakes, seems she got off as well. She'd been working her clit over with her free hand while sucking you off. Leko slurps down your semen and exhales with a loud 'aah' like she finished a cold beer. <<generic>>"That was great! Want the full course along with that appetizer?"<</generic>> You feel a certain lack of control overcome you, and you agree to more. A haze falls over your eyes and a pleasant cowl of warmth settles on your cheeks and shoulders. <<generic>>"Then come visit us again."<</generic>> Us? She nods, standing to her footpaws. With a flick of her wrist, a paper envelope appeared in one hand, and a bunny-shaped mask in the other. <<generic>>"Any night you feel like taking a deeper plunge, go to the place on that invitation. And wear your mask. Or you'll regret it."<</generic>> You look over the invitation. It's nothing fancy, a bit of furled paper with some handwritten words on it. The mask on the other hand straddled the line between ornate and cheap. It seemed to be some porcelain, or a material like it. It was a half-mask, with high ears and a bunny's nose. Black paint helped mark all that which made a rabbit's face, bunny-like. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $bunnyStage to 1>> Past him, immediately the din of conversation, sex, and music fills the air. Bleak and dim stairs give way shortly to a gloomy and sensual firelight keeping a large and well-ornamented cellar illuminated. An attendent urges you for your items and clothing. The thought of resisting doesn't cross your mind, and with a serene placidness you strip down to your natural state without shame. The room was lined with soft splendor. Throw pillows, rugs, bedding, and lounging chairs. But more important than the furniture was the fucking. Any denizen, any race you'd seen was plugging rod A to slot B. The air is heavy with the scents and sounds of sex. An enraptured feeling catches you from your feet to your calves. It roots you in the ground. The cellar exit seems roughly a million miles away, and so do all the rest of your problems. Here, you should focus on the carnal pleasures. Wet, slick plapping. Guttural, heavy pumping. Positions you'd not even conceived of, bodies twisted into such pleasure it makes you dizzy. You look around for Leko but see no sight of her. You're keen enough to notice an array of openings. Male, female, and otherwise. [[Hyena Shemale.|bunnymask1yeen]] [[Equine male.|bunnymask1horse]] [[Vulpine female.|bunnymask1vulp]] [[Leave.|exitattempt]] Sipping on a refreshment, you spot a hyena woman. With something extra between her legs. Half-hard, and swinging by her taut, muscular thighs, is a fat cock. It's with some surprise you find it is in a human shape. A bolt of fuzzy blondish fur rises up in a treasure trail to her belly button. Her fur is mostly a greyish brown, with deeper brown spots. These spots were central to her shoulders and thighs, but you suspect her back had some too. The white of her bunnymask clashes with the darker tones of her fur, and just like everyone else gives her an anonymized look. She catches you staring and curls her finger to lure you closer. Her siren gesture is too much to resist. <<generic>>"Leko initiated you, right?" She asked in a short, slight whisper.<</generic>> How did she know? <<generic>>"Leko told me all about you. Said she had a good time."<</generic>> How could she tell with the mask on? Isn't part of this being anonymous? She snickered and nodded. <<generic>>"That's true but I smelled you on her, and smell you now. Forgive me for breaking the veil of secrecy. Truth is I was hoping to catch you here. You sounded like a real prize."<</generic>> <<if $class is "fighter">>\ [[Continue.|bunnymaskyeenfight]] <</if>>\ <<if $class is "wizard">>\ [[Continue.|bunnymaskyeenwiz]] <</if>>\ The equine you approach waved you in. His fur is a deep black, and so are the soft parts of his body. His nose, nipples, and cock are all a deep ebony. Despite his dour and strong body, he carries himself with carefree pomp. Muscles have been chiseled into his form from years of heavy labor, and he looks in peak shape. You notice an odd glint upon his stomach when your eyes drift down to examine his meat. Some sort of tattoo, magical, glimmering beneath the thin fur. He is adorned lightly in criss-crossing leather dyed red. It gives him a look that reminds you a bit of a mount ready to be ridden. A pointless thong of red holds his testicles tight to his form, but let his flaccid horsecock spill over the side. <<generic>>"Hello there. Still looking handsome. Can I help you with something?"<</generic>> [[What is that mark on your belly?|horseask]] [[Proposition him.|bunnymaskhorsesex]] [[Leave him be.|bunnymask1-2]] The vixen speaking with a companion gently nudges them aside at your approach. <<generic>>"Why hello, who do we have here? No, don't tell me." She chuckles, touching the cheek of her mask with a coy demureness.<</generic>> Her body is on plain display, but a sheer nightgown is draped over her shoulders and arms, accenting the deep ginger of her fur with black. She is pleased with you examining her body, and lifts a paw to accent her butt a bit more. Her height is diminutive, and although her curves aren't bountiful they're splendid for her size. <<generic>>"Want to pass some time together?"<</generic>> [[Lay with the fox.|bunnymask1vulpfw]] [[Decline.|bunnymask1-2]] <<generic>>"So, want me to lay on my back and move my balls aside?"<</generic>> You blink at her with a flabergasted expression. <<generic>>"I've got a pussy too, if you want to feel it. Usually spend my time filling holes, mine feels a little neglected."<</generic>> The mental image of her moving aside her heavy set of furry nuts so you can plug her pussy is appealing to a degree. <<generic>>"So, wanna try? No ill will if you don't."<</generic>> [[Continue.|bunnymaskyeenfight2]] [[Decline.|bunnymask1-2]] The hyena pulls on her cock a few times, stroking it to a proud hardness from its sleepy state. The peeling back of her foreskin and the motion of her hand on her sweaty shaft makes her balls tense. The ripe scent of her musk makes you pleasantly woozy. <<generic>>"So, want to help me empty these?" Her free hand gives her left nut a playful pat.<</generic>> [[Continue.|bunnymaskyeenwiz2]] [[Decline.|bunnymask1-2]] The masked hyena grasps her junk and moves it aside. There is something erotic to watching her penis be so casually handled and moved away. Hidden beyond the curtain of her testes is, just as she said, her snatch. The lips of her labia are dark and slaver arousal. The naughty peek of her feminine bits under her masculine ones illicit a peculiar lust in you. Your cheeks fall flush with the touch of your bunnymask. Before you can make a decision, it makes it for you. Roused to hardness, you assume your spot between the yeen's legs, coaxed on by her hands grasping you in a hug. The heat of your body joins with hers, pressing close together. She takes a heavy lead, wrapping you in a deep, open-eyed kiss. As your hips move with their natural desire to fuck deep into her, your skin tingles with the touch of her fur. The welcoming velvet of her feminine slot is combined with the tickle and padding of her testicles with each forward thrust. Her cock wobbles just as her tits too. Both drooling liquid. Pre leaks over her tummy, and milk down the sides of her tits. Her erect nipples seem to twitch excitedly with the rest of her. Time's flow seems to wane as you get lost in being connected with her by way of genitals, tongue, and your entire body. Both of your minds frazzled with the pleasure you're bringing each other. The overbearing feeling of sexual expression tingles across your entire skin. Something feels wrong, but far too delicious to consider that wrongness. Your orgasm creeps up on you, catching you unawares. You nut deep inside the hyena futanari, jizzing while plapping against her thighs and balls. With a few quick pumps of her hand, and the impact of your body on her nuts, she too ejaculates. Thickened spurts of seed splatter across your chest and her own, dabbling down on the fur with a thick sound. The passionate, grateful moans you both make can hardly be heard over the symphony of the rest of the orgy... [[Continue.|bunnymask1-3]] You look over your shoulder. Something isn't right here. You... You don't want to leave. You want to stay right here. You want to be lost in the pleasure of the mortal form. <<return>> The day's events have exhausted you, and it's time to seek food and shelter. You have no permanent roots here yet, so temporary lodging will be needed. In Tappahannock, your best bet will be The Anxious Pigeon. But if you can't afford a room and board, or don't want to pay their fee, there is always the cold hard street. Three gold will get you a warm meal, cool water to drink, and warm water to bathe with. Best of all, the beds are cozy. <<if $playerCoins >= 3>> [[Buy a room at the Pigeon.|pigeonsleep]] <<else>> Even three gold is too pricy for you. A reclusive alley will be your sleeping spot. [[Continue.|streetsleep]] <</if>> You pay the ornery innkeep his due and get a simple meal of stewed meat and bread. After tending to yourself, your gear, and reflecting on the day, you sleep. The calm din of inn winding down offers a pleasant background noise to settle you to sleep. Safety, warmth, and comfort. Well worth three gold. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $playerCoins -= 3>> The air is cold, the floor is hard. Sleeping outside without a bedroll is a pain. Worse, loitering in this way is technically illegal. The idle threat of your items being pilfered, and the uncomfortable conditions keep you awake. Your stomach rumbles in complaint to its empty state. At some point, exhaustion wins out against your paranoia and hunger pangs. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] The day's events have exhausted you, and it's time to seek food and shelter. You have no permanent roots here yet, so temporary lodging will be needed. In Skeelhowl, your best bet will be The Split Hoof. The current conflict in Skeelhowl has made many minor items more expensive. But if you can't afford a room and board, or don't want to pay their fee, there is always the cold hard street. Five gold will get you a warm meal, cool water to drink. In Skeelhowl, inns don't often offer baths. The beds are large and incredibly comfortable. <<if $playerCoins >= 5>> [[Buy a room at the Split Hoof.|splitsleep]] <<else>> Five gold is too pricy for you. A reclusive alley will be your sleeping spot. [[Continue.|streetsleep2]] <</if>> The air is cold, the floor is hard. Sleeping outside without a bedroll is a pain. Loitering doesn't carry a fine, but with how filthy Skeelhowl is, that's punishment enough. The idle threat of your items being pilfered, and the uncomfortable conditions keep you awake. Your stomach rumbles in complaint to its empty state. At some point, exhaustion wins out against your paranoia and hunger pangs. [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] Sleeping at the Split Hoof isn't terribly charming. Without a bath the general ick of the day doesn't leave you. The spicy, vinegar heavy scraps that compose the day's meal leave you a bit ill at ease. The flavor is pleasant, but far too heavy for your palate. After tending to yourself, your gear, and reflecting on the day, you sleep. The rowdy din of the inn winding down offers a nagging background noise to your to sleep. But, the bed does have safety, warmth, and comfort. A bit of a mess for 5 gold. [[Continue.|skeelhowl]] <<set $playerCoins -= 5>><img src=images/ddctitle.png style="width:335px;height:225px;" class="banner"> After your encounter, your body demands rest. But it is short-lived. The revelry demands you join it, and something not quite yourself compels you to action. Wine and sex, spinning between different partners in a flurry. The line between reality and daydream blurs, as a lust-drunkness grips you. You, and everyone else in the orgy, release themselves to a greater power. A great energy brought about by the writhing mass of salacious forms... When you wake, your head pounds. Your muscles feel sore and drained. Down below, your nethers haven't been spared from this soreness. Aside from the headache, the feeling is somewhat soothing. It's as if you've got an excellent session of exercise. The greatest mystery, aside from what happened in your daze, is how you got back to the Pigeon... You spend some hours convalescing before setting out for the day. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $bunnyStage to 2>> A slight twinge of apprehension hits you. You look left, and right, and then realizing that no one knows you, the feeling wanes. You're in a mask! It's all anonymous. You eagerly accept her proposal, and her jagged teeth once again come out to play. <<generic>>"Excellent," she says through a bitten smile.<</generic>> Swooping you up like a ripe apple from the market she catches you in both hands and whisks you away to a nearby wall. You grasp onto her forearms, feeling how tight and firm they are. Your input is no longer needed, as the herm decides you will be tonight's fleshlight. She turns you to face away from her. Without warning shem in reply to your prostate being twitched at. The hyena doesn't take you for a novice, and once she's carved out her path, treads it with a rapid pace. The plapping of her hips to your ass, and her balls slapping against yours, seems deafening. Time's flow seems to wane as you get lost in being connected with her by way of genitals, the sense of submission and fullness. Both of your minds frazzled with the pleasure you're bringing each other. The overbearing feeling of sexual expression tingles across your entire skin. Something feels wrong, but far too delicious to consider that wrongness. The passionate, grateful moans you both make can hardly be heard over the symphony of the rest of the orgy... aims her cock with one hand, and holds tight to your waist with the other. With those being your only points of contact, you easily slip down onto her shaft. The tight fit of your ass makes her grunt, working to weasel in each and every inch. Your backside forced to take every bit of her and handle it. You clutch back at her waist with one hand, twisting to look back at her. A mischievous look of lust is painted across her face. She pumps forward to jam the final bit of her dick in. The feeling makes you croak a moan of discomfort. But the fullness's pleasure can't be denied. A sense of rightness falls over you, and your prick dribbles pre-cum in reply to your prostate being twitched at. The hyena doesn't take you for a novice, and once she's carved out her path, treads it with a rapid pace. The plapping of her hips to your ass, and her balls slapping against yours, seems deafening. Time's flow seems to wane as you get lost in being connected with her by way of genitals, the sense of submission and fullness. Both of your minds frazzled with the pleasure you're bringing each other. The overbearing feeling of sexual expression tingles across your entire skin. Something feels wrong, but far too delicious to consider that wrongness. Your orgasm creeps up on you, catching you unawares. Your p-spot having been banged fiercely, the poor defenseless spot begging your balls to release your seed. The hyena's grip changes often, really whipping her nuts at you as she fucks into you as deep as your girly butt can take it. With one final effort she plows her load into you, jizzing deep in your ass. Your tummy feels a little stuffed, the heavy feeling of her seed pooling in you. The lewdness of being so manhandled, the fullness of her dick breeding you, it culminates in an orgasm that has you cross-eyed and nutting against the wall. The passionate, grateful moans you both make can hardly be heard over the symphony of the rest of the orgy... [[Continue.|bunnymask1-3]] He smiled behind the mask, and brushed at his abdomen. The sigil made itself more known, glittering in hues of pink and a rose red. "This? It marks me as an initiate. I was brought in last month." Dark wings flank a heart shape of red in the middle, under his belly button. It almost seems to pulse and shift under examination. <<generic>>"Maybe you'll get one of your own soon enough."<</generic>> [[Continue.|bunnymask1horse]] The stallion squeezes his testicles. <<generic>>"Mind if I go first?"<</generic>> His turgid, semi-hard cock is already getting stiffer. There is something captivating about watching the long and thick pole of dickmeat completely flop free of his thong and twitch at you. The head, almost a triangular shape, flares as it drools pre. Seeing how much of the show you're taking in, he gets the picture that you don't mind. With a few pointed strokes of his prick he aims it properly at you, letting you watch every ridge and vein pulse with virile potency. Given its prodigious size, there is no way you'd be able to throat this entire shaft. But you could try. Taking a kneel, the massive pole shadows over you. The horse takes himself to hand and lays it across your visage, obscuring half of it and blinding you with dong. You begin at the base, kissing his leathery and taut sack of nuts and the underside of his cock a few times. The harsh exhale of a pleased equine sounds out above you serve as a guide to your exploratory side-blowjob. Brushing your mouth across his cock, the taste of him settles on your tongue and lips. Something earthy, alive, your nostrils flare taking in his hints of musk. By the time you return to his flared head, he's shot a few ropes of pre to the pillows below, and a thick cord of the clear-cum lay hanging from his dicktip. Slurping it up, you try to wrap your mouth around his head at least. <<generic>>"Easy does it, no need to rush."<</generic>> He pats your head, no rough pulling or forceful grabbing here. There is no way you'd be able to get it down your maw, forced or no. So, you settle for a side-blowjob. Maybe the ebony equine is familiar with such things, as he doesn't seem too disappointed. He strokes himself off a bit, working more pleasure from the experience. Seeing just how much of him is left unsucked, you buckle down and press your efforts. You can try! It's the best you can do. A strange lust washes over both of you, getting serenely lost in the act. Your own sex stiffens aggressively, straining against your leg as you drool pre to the floor. Sneaking a hand down there, you begin teasing yourself but devote most of your attention to servicing him. You weasel his turgid, pulsing shaft down your throat to the median ring. Tears roll down your cheeks. And for a second, seeing the horse whiney and huff in pleasure, you imagine what you look like. Cheek puffy, lips drooling, throat bulged with the black-toned horsecock threatening to asphyxiate you. What a slut, kneeling before this masked man you've never met and offering to suck him dry... Time's flow seems to wane as you get lost in being connected with him by way of genitals, and mouth. Both of your minds frazzled with the pleasure you're bringing each other. The overbearing feeling of sexual expression tingles across your entire skin. Something feels wrong, but far too delicious to consider that wrongness. <<generic>>"You ready?" He asks in a firm a forward tone that makes it clear it's not a question. <</generic>> The dick choking you makes it so you can't even nod, and with a flare of his penis that makes your throat strain and eyes bulge in surprise, you feel the liquid lust of the pent up horse squirt down your throat. Your tongue and hard sucking works in concert, with his strokes to what portion is still outside your mouth. He stomps his hoof and moans in adoration. The first few jets fill your tummy without giving your tongue much more than a taste of his spit-slick phallus. When he withdraws enough that a few globs of salty, thickened ballsnot glue themselves to your tongue and lips, you surprise yourself with your own orgasm. His seed got to find its home in your stomach, mouth, and across your lips and chest. You ejaculate with a potent rush at his hooves and the pillows, a spray of spunk joining the other sexual juices you two had dripped. [[Continue.|bunnymask1-3]]<<if $class is "fighter">> <<generic>>"Lay back and let me ride atop you!"<</generic>> The fox pushes at your torso, urging you to a soft and bouncy pile of pillows. Not taking complaint to the comforting resting spot. You lay your back against the mound, sinking into the softness a bit. You're treated to a lavish look at her prowling toward you. Her small hands trace up the skin of your thighs. The padding of her fingertips and claws tickling the skin until she is teasing your sensitive upper thighs. Exciting apprehension breaks out in your groin. A heavy need to slot into her cunt rises in you. The brush of her furred body to your bare skin as she gets ready in your lap makes your skin prickle with goose bumps. And the look in her eyes behind her mask has your heart thumping. She grasps at and strokes to hardness your excited manhood. Leaning forward, she braces herself with a hand to your chest, while the other works your junk over. Her small form compared to your larger size makes you look and feel huge. And she takes great pleasure in feeling your firm muscles. The vixen leans back and skillfully aims your sword to her sheath, slotting herself down on it with one firm stroke. <<generic>>"Ghh! Wow. Fuck. Human dick is always a treat," she hisses, biting down on her lip as she picks up into a ride.<</generic>> The bulge of your meat marks her tummy, and the tightness of her pussy makes you wince with how potent it is. You reach over and cup her hips, easily grasping her entire waist. <<generic>>"You know how to make a girl feel like a doll don't you?" She comments with a purr, holding onto your wrists and encouraging you to take charge.<</generic>> The constricting feeling of her monosyllable is all you need to begin pumping. She bounces up and down your dick, and you make sure she continues to move with your hands. The titillating size difference becomes more apparent as she bounces faster, her small tits flopping to her fur with each potent pump. The shrill squeals of pleasure she makes cut over the din of moaning in the background, and you reply with your own grunts of potent pleasure. <<generic>>"Right there! Go fast now!" She growls, leaning down into you, clutching at your pecs.<</generic>> Her claws dig into your skin and she moans with the vibration of your pumps wavering her voice. As you speed up, she begins to lose it, her furry butt taking your pounding with a champion's stamina. Both of your minds frazzle with the pleasure you're bringing each other. The overbearing feeling of sexual expression tingles across your entire skin. Something feels wrong, but far too delicious to consider that wrongness. But even so, you can sense she is going to cum. Unfortunately, she's quite the catch. Her cunt has been milking your phallus with increasingly potent clenching. Despite trying to hold back, you feel your edge tip over into an orgasm. <<generic>>"Oh my fuhh, breed me, you lummox!" She cries out, the feeling of your seed injecting into her vulpine womb causing an orgasm of her own. <</generic>> The lewd, shuddering sound she makes heightens your pleasure. Though the mask conceals it, you get a glimpse at her astonishingly pleased face, pride, and a feeling of success welling in your chest along with your potent orgasm. [[Continue.|bunnymask1-3]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> <<generic>>"I want you to breed me with everything you have. Let's see if you can pump some kits into me." <</generic>> Her eyes flare with desire and she spins on a paw and walks away. Her tail swishes across your chin, inviting you to follow her. She slows when she approaches a pile of pillows and bends over, getting to a knee and crawling to them. She sways her butt and lifts her tail, her night gown shifting with it. A delicious string of arousal webs her tail to her pussy when she lifts it. Her alluring look and seductive ways had you sprung to hardness before she lifted her tail, but that sight makes you ravenous. Never before has such a potent want to fuck overcome you. Like a thirsty traveler finding a desert oasis you crawl after her. Gone are any worries of performance or size. This vixen is made for you! With confidence you mount her, aiming yourself at her waiting labia and driving deeper into her hole once you're done kissing your tip to her folds. <<generic>>She looks back over her shoulder, spreading one of her cheeks for you to make it easier, cooing on your entry. "Hmmff, you're the perfect size!"<</generic>> You grasp around her waist and shoulder, hunched over her as you pump forward. Those encouraging words drive your hips. Her tits fill your hands as you passionately plow your dick into her snatch, savoring just how tight and right she feels. <<generic>>"I want you to knot when you're ready and don't pull out!"<</generic>> Her words make your loins burn with tension and need. An urgency makes your balls throb. She grasps one of your hands and guides it lower to her nethers, putting your fingers over her clit. <<generic>>"Here, r-rub here while you work, mmmff! Keep that pace!"<</generic>> Taking her guidance, you follow her command. It's a bit difficult to do both, move your hips and roll your fingers, but you try. The slickness of her cunt drools down your balls and lubes your fingers. Using her moans as a lead, you alter your touch and angle, trying to bring her the most pleasure possible! <<generic>>"It's just right, fhhh! Keep going!" She arches her back at you, tensing her muscles around your shaft.<</generic>> You want to, but you can't! It's just too good. Lost in it, your eyes flutter closed and you raise up your snout. The rising orgasm in you helps solidify your coordination, feeling like your hips and hand are moving as one. Both of your minds frazzle with the pleasure you're bringing each other. The overbearing feeling of sexual expression tingles across your entire skin. Something feels wrong, but far too delicious to consider that wrongness. Trying your best to make her cum too, you find success! The vixen howls out a high toned cry of pleasure just as you feel your knot swelling. It plugs the two of you together as you pump her womb full with your seed. A deep feeling of ease and rightness falls over you. You lean over her, the two of you falling to your sides to cuddle in the knotted afterglow. [[Continue.|bunnymask1-3]] <</if>><<widget "ava" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/avaport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "brandy" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/brandyport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "courier" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/clarissaport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "minerva" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/minervaport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "minervac" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/minervaportcen.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "yulha" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/yulhaport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "boartender" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/boartenderport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "river" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/riverport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "bara" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/baraport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "genericw" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/genericwport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "generic" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/genericport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "becca" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/beccaport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "baron" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/baronport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\ <<widget "ji" container>>\ <div class="say-box">\ <img class="say-image" src="images/portraits/jiport.png">\ <p class="say-text">_contents</p>\ </div>\ <</widget>>\<<if $class is "wizard">> <<linkreplace "Portrait of a studious wizard.">>\ <<include "riverpic">>\ <</linkreplace>>\ <</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">> <<linkreplace "Portrait of a common sellsword.">>\ <<include "knightpic">>\ <</linkreplace>> <</if>> Herrold hefts a hay bale upon his shoulder, but at your approach, drops it to the ground again. He pants and waves enthusiastically. <<genericw>>"Howdy! Working today, $name?"<</genericw>> His accent screams hick, and he has an eternally giddy, retriever-brained expression plastered on his lupine visage. His shoulders are broad, and body built with daily labor. A light tunic of white and beige trousers sit loosely and comfortably on his golden coat. His ears and snout twitch occasionally at sounds he picks up on. You explain you're just there to say hi. [[Ask him how he's doing.]] [[Ask him what he does for fun.]] [[Ask about his injury.]] [[Leave him be.|beccafarms]]<<genericw>>"Working hard."<</genericw>> He looks down at the hay bale by his paws, hands on his hips. His fur is a bit ruffled, blades of grass and hay are stuck to him. His underarms have marked his shirt with a bit of sweat. And no surprise, working in the sun all day. <<genericw>>"Glad to have an excuse to just stand for a second and rest my paws." He smiles toothily.<</genericw>> <<genericw>>"And how's life for you?"<</genericw>> [[Fine and dandy!]] [[You are feeling down today.]]<<genericw>>"Chase sheep."<</genericw>> Isn't that his job? <<genericw>>"Well if you do what ya like, you never work a day in your life."<</genericw>> What about outside of work? <<genericw>>"Welp. Let's think a minute here. I do like me a nice bit of ale." He makes an almost perverse moan. "A lightly seared steak. Nothing beats a nice blowjob, huh?"<</genericw>> He smirks at you, sticking his tongue out, bumping you with his elbow a few times. [[Ask if he wants one now.]] [[Ask if he wants to give one now.]] [[Nevermind.|herrtalkmenu]]<<genericw>>"I like to hear that!"<</genericw>> He slaps your bicep with his big hand, giving you a well-meaning but bone-headed grin. [[Continue.|herrtalkmenu]] <<genericw>>"Aww, why's that? Something happen?"<</genericw>> His voice and expression are overly sympathetic, but you don't detect a smidge of insincerity. <<genericw>>"You know what helps me on bad days? A big hug!"<</genericw>> Before you can really react, having taken just a single pace back, he grasps you in a tight squeeze. He crushes you to his furry, strong chest, brushing your cheeks to his pecs. His firm body grasps at yours and despite the sudden attack hug, and the smell of saline sweat, you appreciate the gesture. He lets you go soon enough and ruffles your head with his hand. <<genericw>>"Chin up, it's a new day tomorrah!"<</genericw>> [[Continue.|herrtalkmenu]] His eyes go glassy for a second, his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. He leans forward and shows you his left ear, brushing aside the fur. A nasty pale scar in a jagged half-crescent is visible. The dots of stitching lines mark either side of the scar. <<genericw>>"Eyup. Rowdy stallion smelled a mare or something and kicked back at me. Had awful headaches for the first couple of months. Becca took care of me and let me take it easy until I could get back to work."<</genericw>> You ask him if there are any lasting effects. <<genericw>>"Welp, let's see. Real hard for me to count and do figures in my head. But I can write just as fine as before."<</genericw>> You're a little surprised he can write at all. <<genericw>>"Plenty of folks in Tappa can write! How else you gonna get on living and doing business?"<</genericw>> You ask him if it's made work or life any harder. He gets pensive and thinks a moment, striking a thoughtful pose. You feel like you can hear the gears in his head grinding as he drums up his thoughts. <<genericw>>"Mmm, well at first yes. But I took it all real slow and got back to chasing wool after a few months. Was hard on Becca, happened during the busy season. But she's always taken great care of me. So I try to give it my all now that I'm better."<</genericw>> [[Continue.|herrtalkmenu]] He bats his eyes, looking left and right as if to check for Becca. <<genericw>>"You wanna?" He beams at you with happy excitement.<</genericw>> You nod your head yes and he pumps his arm, whispering under his breath 'score'. <<genericw>>"Come follow me over to the barn, we can get out of the sun."<</genericw>> Herrold picks up the haybale he'd dropped earlier and carries it over to the old barn. The paint was chipped on it, and inside there was nothing but old equipment and grain. Seemed more like a big storage house now. He found a milking stool and sat his ass right on it, his tail swooshing back and forth on the floor in big long swipes. He puts his hands on his knees with goofy anticipation. <<genericw>>"Wow! This'll be grand!"<</genericw>> You ask him if he would undo his pants, and he nods as if he'd almost forgotten. Hard and bursting from his sheath already, a big feral dog dong greets you. He's... [[...surprisingly clean, prim and proper.]] [[...musky and sweaty. Heavy with perspiration and delicious cockstink.|herrbjmusk]] Herrold tilts his head, panting and wagging his tail. The heavy intakes of air palpitated with excitement. His wet, open maw looked particularly inviting. A small drip of saliva fell from his long, pink tongue. Without any further instruction or wait, he kneels before you. Huff-huff-huff, warm exhales fall flush on your groin. His dopey, endearing, expectant eyes glitter up at you. Not wishing to leave the poor boy waiting, you unveil your stiffening phallus. Before you could clasp his chin and guide him, he's already dived his throat down your knob. His slick and warm mouth seals itself around your dick, the suction of his waiting throat draining the early pre-spunk from you. You aim yourself down, hilting yourself and properly maw-fucking the retriever-slut. Grunts of pleasure croak from your gritted teeth as the farmhand gives you killer head. He takes your throat-fucking like a country boy should, making do with the lack of air in exchange for the pleasure of getting to slob your knob. His hands hold tight to your thighs, letting you take the lead in brushing his tonsils with your glans. <<if $class is "fighter">>\ Your knotless cock seems to be a novelty for him, as he continuously slurps at the base of your penis repeatedly as if he were trying to wrap himself around a bulge there. His dreamy eyes flutter and flap closed as he savors sucking the pre and sweat off your meat while groping his own. <</if>>\ <<if $class is "wizard">>\ His tongue takes your undersized shaft and toys with it to a torturous degree. It's a pleasurable, enveloping bit of sloppy toppy that makes your shaft feel like a melting bit of butter. <</if>>\ The soft moans he gives, signaling his enjoyment, shift in pitch as you hump his mouth-hole. After some time you clutch his ear and grit your teeth, the sensitivity in your sex ascending to a new height that threatened an orgasm. Taking that as a signal, he kept up the pace, wet and squelching suckling loud enough to alert Becca filled the barn. The salacious sounds culminate in your breathless declaration of orgasm. With a heartbeat pulse of vigorous pumps, you ejaculate down his throat, stepping on his thigh to get a deeper and more angled fuck down his esophagus. He accommodates, his muscles tensing and bracing for your seed as it empties into him. As your dick relents its torrent, and your voice gets sharp with overstimulation, he doesn't stop. A long, wet, pink tongue 'cleans' your groin of every trace of semen, wicking it away into his mouth. Eventually, you manage to pry the eager boy off your groin. It leaves you with a wet, slick set of balls and a completely drained dick. Herrold, slavering from his chops, merrily boofs up at you. <<genericw>>"That ought to set you right."<</genericw>> [[Continue.|tapexit]] It's no surprise his dick is dripping with sweat. His red pole glistens in what little light the barn has from the salty water of his hard work. <<genericw>>"Sorry 'bout all that."<</genericw>> You shake your head, it's fine! What did you expect with such a big strong dog? The compliment makes his dick twitch and he shimmies slightly. His tail accelerates its sweeping of the barn as you grasp his penis and get ready to place it in your mouth. The smell is strong, but wonderfully so. The radiant heat of masculine musk makes your nose crinkle from the strength of it, but your body is practically vibrating with desire. You kiss his tapered tip and then lower yourself to smooch at his sweaty balls. Lewd want claims you and you roll your tongue over his orbs again and again, kissing and licking until they are more spit than sweat. Your mouth tingles with the sodium from his genitals, your breath tangy with his ball smell. Finally, you bop your head on his cock. Just a few inches at first, but it has him spurting pre-spunk into your throat immediately. He chuffs in pleasure, grasping at the back of your head with his hand but not being too forceful. The wet, lewd sounds of your blowjob mix with the sweeping of his tail and moans rumbling from his lungs. His paws clutch at the dirt as you really work his shaft, letting him feel just how good your mouth can be. Neglected, you feel your dick tense in your clothing, twitching at the act you're performing. Kneeling below the wolfy farmboy, giving him a treat for being such a strong helper. You suckle down his liquid excitement, and as your fingers feel the swell of his knot, you get ready to take his load. With throat and hand both you bring him to orgasm, his hooting howl and rump-shaking in his stool tell you just how good it is. And your reward is a nice, ripe, musky cumload. Your mouth will taste like wolf spunk for a while, thick globs of it being blasted into your maw and down your throat, enough you cough a bit back up on his cock. <<genericw>>"Oh, d-damn! Sorry... there was a lot. Been a bit, heh."<</genericw>> You don't tell him it's alright, you show him! With a firm swallow, you gulp down his seed, and then lick up what sticky extras remain. His dick throbs and hums with life in the afterglow tongue bath you give it. And when it finally softens completely, you give him a kiss on the sheath before he redresses. <<genericw>>"Wow! Thanks a whole ton. I should probably get back to work though..."<</genericw>> [[Leave him to his work.|tapexit]] Herrold surprises you with a splendidly pristine prick. You nuzzle up close to it, running your lips up and down his girth with a multitude of kisses. You descend, smooching at his balls and your delicate touch brings moans to his throat, dollops of pre oozing down his shaft and to your cheek. Finally, you bop your head on his cock. Just a few inches at first, but it has him spurting pre-spunk into your throat immediately. He chuffs in pleasure, grasping at the back of your head with his hand but not being too forceful. The wet, lewd sounds of your blowjob mix with the sweeping of his tail and moans rumbling from his lungs. His paws clutch at the dirt as you really work his shaft, letting him feel just how good your mouth can be. Neglected, you feel your dick tense in your clothing, twitching at the act you're performing. Kneeling below the wolfy farmboy, giving him a treat for being such a strong helper. You suckle down his liquid excitement, and as your fingers feel the swell of his knot, you get ready to take his load. With throat and hand both you bring him to orgasm, his hooting howl and rump-shaking in his stool tell you just how good it is. And your reward is a nice, ripe, cumload. Your mouth will taste like wolf spunk for a while, thick globs of it being blasted into your maw and down your throat, enough you cough a bit back up on his cock. <<genericw>>"Oh, d-damn! Sorry... there was a lot. Been a bit, heh."<</genericw>> You don't tell him it's alright, you show him! With a firm swallow, you gulp down his seed, and then lick up what sticky extras remain. His dick throbs and hums with life in the afterglow tongue bath you give it. And when it finally softens completely, you give him a kiss on the sheath before he redresses. <<genericw>>"Wow! Thanks a whole ton. I should probably get back to work though..."<</genericw>> [[Leave him to his work.|tapexit]] When you revisit the Leaky Vial, a great wave of pacifism overcomes you. A pleasant sleepiness clouds your thinking while your body becomes amped with energy. You almost feel a little drunk. Is it the anticipation? The butterflies of repeating that oh-so sublime experience of last time? As you descend and disrobe, your mind tumbles over who you will lay with. What new body will you explore and connect with? And why just stop at one? The 'pillow room' is a little sparse. A few bunnymasks are knocking boots, passionately entwining their bodies just as before. It's a surprise there are so few. Singling you out, surprisingly, a cadre of bunnies approaches. Proper bunnies, masked still, but they are rabbits. You have the vague notion one is Leko, but it's hard to tell. <<generic>>"You, you have been chosen," the lead bun says with a sultry tone.<</generic>> Chosen for what? <<generic>>"Initiation into the rites. A whole new world of pleasure and change."<</generic>> The alluring, nude forms of the bunnies weaken your will, but something seems off. It nags at you. Like a hex upon the entire place. You feel as though if you take this step forward, you might not be able to go back. [[Resist this advance, something is wrong here.|bunnymask2-d]] [[Pleasure is never wrong.|bunnymask2-1]] You try to politely refuse their request, and seeing your hesitation, seem to call off their plans. <<generic>>"If that is the case, that you would refuse our gift, you must go and never return."<</generic>> The warmth has drained from the motherly bunny's voice, and from the faces of her cohort. Not wishing to risk your hide, you take this chance to turn tail and flee the cult. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $bunnyStage to 31>> You consent to go with them, and they take your hand. Being enveloped in a swarm of fuzzy buns is gift enough. <<if $class is "wizard">>You are hardly taller than them, your chin just barely reaching above their heads. Their ears block your vision.<</if>><<if $class is "fighter">>You tower above the bundle of bunny girls like their alpha male as they lead you forward.<</if>> They take you past the curtain of beads and silks you had missed last time, and the room beyond is a shock. Dusty glass ceilings provide the dim glow of moonlight in the room. Artificial mage lights illuminate the darker corners with a sedating, dull purple. The room is lush. The walls are choked with kudzu. Leafy vines weave into the brickwork, moving with an unfelt breeze. Bountiful and unnaturally large flowers sleep in heavy, sagging bells of bright colors. You wonder what glorious color and scent they provide given appropriate sunlight, but in the shadow of the eve they rest. The room was essentially a large greenhouse, with warm and humid air and plentiful plants. The air was accentuated with the smells of nature, and the sounds of running water. Cut into the floor are trenches that run the length of the room, flowing water creating an artificial river and a pleasing soundscape. A round daybed with a canopy sat in the middle of the room. Dark, luscious sheets twist and turn around a bundle of impatient-looking bunnies in the nude. A whole warren surrounded you, touching your arms and body, nudging you forward. The lead bunny turns and faces you, asking you a question with a pointed and direct stance. <<generic>>"Do you pledge to maintain our secrecy? Do you pledge to devote yourself to our cause?"<</generic>> [[Ask her some questions.|bunnymask2-ask]] <<if $class is "fighter">> [[Take your vows, and accept the initiation rites.|bunnymask2-2f]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Take your vows, and accept the initiation rites.|bunnymask2-2w]] <</if>>[[Who does she swear devotion to?]] [[Ask her about herself]] <<if $class is "fighter">> [[You've heard enough, accept their offer.|bunnymask2-2f]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[You've heard enough, accept their offer.|bunnymask2-2w]] <</if>> You decide to remain at Slopespine for rest, and the Baroness is all too eager to have you stay overnight. It's a little unclear if your desire even mattered, with how intensely the Baroness urges you to repose with her. You're treated to a splendid and filling meal of roast meat, seared and gravy-soaked vegetables, and a fitting wine. Conversation with the Baroness over dinner comes surprisingly easy, and once the servers are gone, speaking to her feels like speaking to a friend rather than a noble. Her brash and bawdy ways remind you of your ex-Yellow Stripe comrades. <<if $boarSub > $boarDom>> When it comes time for bed, she carries you to her baronial dormitory and viciously undresses you to the nude. She likewise disrobes, and treats you like an oversized body pillow. Clutching you close, she buries you between her heaving tits and lets you hear the deep rumble of her snores. If there was a blanket atop of you, the warmth of her would be stifling. But her body temperature mixed with the room's cool air provides a delicate and drowsy balance. Sleep calls to you sooner than you would have expected, and in her grasp, you get an excellent night's rest. [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <<else>> When it comes time for bed, you find her sizing you up. Certain she's aiming to make a move on you, you stand firm and take the reins. Her eyes glitter, acting stuck up and resistant but craving your dominance over her. You tell her to lead you to her chambers and she does, each hoof-clap to the stone bringing a wider smile between her tusks. When you finally arrive, you tell her to remove her clothing. Naked before you, there is a delicious feeling of ownership over her pudgy, sexy, sow body. You give her pussy a firm and pleasing pat, rubbing her labia over with her palm and clutching her feminine spot to confirm your status as the top between you. Undressing yourself, the two of you cuddle for awhile before finding yourselves snoozing peacefully together. [[Continue.|slopespinehub]] <</if>><<minerva>>"I suppose you are worthy enough to kiss my paws. But, do not think for a moment I will allow you to pull on your vile little pole in my presence. That is for you to do on your own time."<</minerva>> With a tense swallow and welling anticipation, you follow Minerva to her quarters. With a snap of her fingers and a point to the floor, she orders you to kneel. Unable to resist her demand, you do so in an instant. Something about submission felt so liberating, especially in her austere presence. Without much ado, she sits atop the bed, crossing her legs, resting one atop the other, and bouncing her paw in wait. Just like the rest of her, there was an earned sort of pretension about her paws. They were beautiful, effete and shapely. The very picture of a lady's footpaws. The nails were painted a soft purple, the black of their natural tone adding an undercoat that deepened the shade. The nail polish matched her eyeshadow, and played off well against the groomed white of her fur. <<minerva>>"Well? I don't have all day, cur. Get worshipping."<</minerva>> She spread her toes, curling them and showing off the spotted beans below. A piebald pattern of pinkish played off the black that surrounded it. Your mouth ran dry with the lewdness inherent to kneeling before your suzerain. Desperate to make a good impression and wishing to make the most of what your tributes have earned, you delicately take her ankle to hand and smooch her pawpads. As earnestly as you might bestow a kiss to your future bride you kiss her paws. Looking up at her past her legs, you find her glowering back down at you with an arrogant demeanor. You can't help but detect just how light her scent is. The barest hint of sweat, dewdrops of salt touching up the otherwise placid and sedating scent of her paws. It is addicting, not harsh or repugnant but still with a destinctively pawpad-like aroma. <<minerva>>"Getting a good whiff, you worm?"<</minerva>> Something deep within you nods your head before you have awareness enough to stop yourself. She covers her mouth with her backhand, turning her head away a bit and concealing her smug smirk. "Revolting." With a splay of her toes, she clasps your face, clutching your nose and forcing your lips between her toebeans. She waggles your head, controlling the movement of your face for a few thrashes before kicking you off. <<minerva>>"I am feeling generous today, pissant. I will allow you to ejaculate for a mere fifty gold. I'll even watch you jerk off. What do you say?"<</minerva>> <<if $playerCoins >= 50>> [[Accept her offer.|minervapaypaws]] <</if>> [[Decline.|minervapaypawsdecline]] You'd have paid a hundred, but better not to tell her that. With a wholehearted agreement, you begin freeing your dick from your pants. <<minerva>>"Bup, bup, bup." She waves her finger 'no' at you. "Gold first."<</minerva>> You relent, swallowing and apologizing. Painstakingly you count out fifty gold. Those hard-earned tokens of wealth given up for the privilege of spitting up your seed in the regal borzoi's presence. Minerva collects your coin purse and lays it beside her. She rolls a coin back and forth along her knuckles while she looks at you expectantly. <<minerva>>"What? Go ahead, piss out that filth you call semen. I'm not doing anything special for you. And if you get a single droplet of that waste water on me you will regret it dearly."<</minerva>> An annoyed, needy, defeated feeling overwhelms you. But you've already paid, so you get to it. And fast, there was no telling if she'd decide time was up. You jerk yourself off while gawking at her paws, occasionally kissing them when you have gotten a healthy eyeful. Her half-disgusted, half-amused expression spurs you on, making you feel like nothing more than a mud pile in her opulent company. As your breathing accelerates, and you feel an orgasm rising, you lock eyes with her splayed pawpads, soaking in each desirable detail of her footpaws. The footpaws that defeated your wallet, pillaged your coin purse, that are owed your worship. <<minerva>>"Spurt, hinderling."<</minerva>> Along with her firm and snide comment comes a singular gesture that hits you like a warhammer. From up on high, she flips her middle finger up at you. Casting the rebuffing and demeaning hand sign down at you. With a warble to your voice and a passionate moan, you declare your pleasure's peak and ejaculate. Carefully not to get your jizzum on her, you aim it all at the floor. <<minerva>>"Right where it belongs. Good pet. Now. Fetch a rag and clean that before you go."<</minerva>> [[Continue.|hitail]] <<set $playerCoins -= 50>> <<set $playerTribute += 50>><<minerva>>"Hmm? Have I drained you dry already? Fine then. Be gone. You've had your time."<</minerva>> She swipes her pawpads against your mouth a final time and stands, 'delicately' kicking your thigh to spur you to exit. [[Continue.|hitail]] The entryway to the Merchant's guild is as opulent as you may have expected. Serving as equal parts community chest, cartel, and bank, more coin has been exchanged here than you can even conceive of. The air is cool, unnaturally so. With a bit of surprise, you notice that the chandeliers are not only enchanted for light but for temperature control. A crystalline mist of blue ebbs from each flickering wick of arcane fire. By the time it is a quarter way down the high domed ceilings, it has evaporated to be invisible to the naked eye. You shake off the wonderment of their climate control magic and approach the receptionist. She is a regal, prim and proper canine. Behind a set of large and round spectacles lay a pair of icy blue eyes. Beige fur with a few blonde highlights clings to her with a short-hair coat. Long and fluffy ears were blended close to her shoulder-length hair. Between her long and slender muzzle, short coat, and fluffy ears, you find yourself uncertain as to what she is exactly. It's not helped by her odd, smokey accent. Like the whisp of wind across dunes, her words have a throaty rumble that speak to a guttural sound masked by the common tongue she is speaking. <<generic>>"Welcome to the Merchant's Guild. I am Farah. How may we serve?"<</generic>> [[Ask her some questions.|farahtalkmenu]] [[Visit the Hall of Legendary Merchants.|patrons]] [[Return to the city center.|tappahannockhub]] <<generic>>"I can escort you to the memorial hall. Follow me."<</generic>> Farah stands from her desk and comes out from behind the counter. The clack of her heeled boots on the marble floors rings out in the otherwise silent chambers. Her exposed toe heels are alluring on her slender and effete frame. She guides you to a passageway along the left-hand side of the building. Taking a right corner, you find yourself in another high-vaulted hall. Magical illumination brings to life the rich tapestries and portraits on the wall, displaying all those who give their blood, sweat, tears, and semen to the Guild. [[Pay your respects to the many members of the Merchant's Guild.|patronslist]] You look upon the engravings on the plaques. The names appear carved in no particular order, presented with the egalitarianism of equals. ''Smiss. CyberTaco. Drake Breen. Raven398. Cuminkleenex. And perhaps even you...'' If you wish to join the honorable ranks of these gold hoarders, you can <a href="https://patreon.com/CaretakerPublishing">here</a>. [[Return to the lobby.|merchantsguild]][[Ask where she is from.|farahorigin]] [[Ask about what they do here.|merchantsexplain]] <<if $farahFuck is false>> [[Ask for a loan.|merchloan]] <<else>> [[Ask if she needs any help with her work.|farahfacesit]] <</if>> [[Enough questions.|merchantsguild]] She smiles, brushing one of her ears against her back palm and looking at you with something that verges on bashfulness. <<generic>>"I am a saluki. I hail from Tilmal-kal in the south."<</generic>> She ponders the question for a second, letting the trill of her thoughtfulness rumble her esophagus. <<generic>>"It's a land of cold nights and hot days. Tall reeds on thin rivers, great works of sandstone. Bartering and rules. Strict laws and honor-bound warriors."<</generic>> Farah adjusts her glasses on her muzzle and two fingers come to rest upon her chin. <<generic>>"Were you born here in Tapphannock?"<</generic>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Tell her where you are from.|farahanswerwiz]] <</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">> [[No, in Galendoria.|Galendoria.]] [[No, in Elsteron.]] [[No, in Bellaforat.]] <</if>> You ask Farah to clarify what the Merchant's Guild does in the city, exactly. <<generic>>"The Merchant's Guild was first established as a cohort of traders and caravaneers wishing to bargain collectively for independent trade in Tappahannock. As they pooled their gold and resources together, they've become a prominent cartel with its fingers in nearly every aspect of commerce in the city. Although we don't have a presence on the city council officially, we are consulted when it comes to relevant decision-making."<</generic>> You ask her if they do anything that benefits people aside from themselves. The comment rolls over her back like water off a duck. <<generic>>"The guild magnanimously offers loans and economic opportunities to ventures we find worth of such things. All for reasonable and equitable fees. In keeping with a desire for open and fair trade, of course."<</generic>> The guild propaganda goes in one ear and out the other... [[Continue.|farahtalkmenu]] <<if $virgin is true>> Farah sizes you up and deems your experience lacking. From behind the curve of her spectacles, you can feel her search for what amorous encounters have made their mark on you. <<generic>>"We aren't currently offering loans to outside parties at the moment."<</generic>> [[Continue.|farahtalkmenu]] <<else>> "We aren't currently offering loans to outside parties at the moment. But perhaps I might be able to service you in another manner?" the sultry lilt she puts on 'service' sends a tingle down your spine. [[Accept her offer.|farahsex]] [[Politely decline her sexual advance.|farahtalkmenu]] <</if>> You briefly describe your experience at Flakefeather Academy, but you leave out the portions about being expelled. <<generic>>"A very prodigious school, following in your kinsmen's stereotype of magical potency? Where I come from, Wrens fill that role. Then again, we don't allow magical practitioners the freedom to act outside of an official capacity."<</generic>> You ask her to elaborate on what she means. <<generic>>"Well, if you aren't a sanctioned caster in a vizier's stable or assigned a place in court, you are not allowed to study or cast. Under penalty of death."<</generic>> You furrow your brow, something stirs in you, and unsettled distaste of Farah's homeland and their treatment of their superiors. Spellcasters. Those small-minded, controlling insects. Before you find yourself ranting and raving you stow those thoughts. All in due time. [[Continue.|farahtalkmenu]] She purrs in curiosity when you mention the name. <<generic>>"Even in my home we've heard the stories of the dead slaughtering the living." Her overly curious and engaged voice is in direct contrast to the brutality of the history she speaks on.<</generic>> You were too young to remember any of it, but just as the plague broke out you and your family had enough money and connections to escape through Black Rook Pass. It bankrupted your family's coffers and left them destitute. To say nothing of the pariah status of anyone from Elsteron was given in the years after the plague. To leave your past behind and earn some coin and fame, you joined the Yellow Stripes. Seemed like a good choice at the time. [[Continue.|farahtalkmenu]] You tell her of the land that runs on wine and dyes. Beautiful, warm, and situated on a western archipelago, it's far from many of the problems local to Lytria, Tappahannock, and the hotbed of strife around Elsteron. Given its relative neutrality, and difficulty to attack, Bellaforat gained a reputation as a country of mercenaries. The Yellow Stripes recruit from it often, and you joined up. It seemed like a good choice at the time. <<generic>>"I adore their wines. These glasses were made by a craftsman in Bellaforat. It is a and of artisans. Either by blade or tool. I am unsurprised a comely specimen such as yourself calls it home."<</generic>> [[Continue.|farahtalkmenu]] The Saluki leads you to a side room. On the way, you get a chance to fully appreciate her garb. It's tight to her body, a dress with a buttoned blouse tucked into a long skirt. The clack of her heels can be heard clearly but only the barest hint of them appeared from the hem of her skirt. The soft, pale blue tones reminded you of a cloudless sky. It plays off pleasantly with her sandy-toned fur. She unlocks the door with a long and heavy key, slipping the item back to her keyring after that satisfying and loud clack rings out. She pushes open the wooden door with a pleasing creak groaning from the hinges. <<generic>>"After you, $name."<</generic>> It appears to be some sort of conference room, with an ornate table and rug between a set of chairs. <<generic>>"This is where optimates meet with prospective members and settle deals. It will be suitable for our purposes."<</generic>> With the door shut tightly behind you, Farah feels free to liberate herself from her clothes. However, what is revealed isn't to your expectations. With the tug of a few laces on her neck, her blouse loosens and she removes it from herself. Your eyes follow her neckline immediately to her breasts. Perky and soft, darkish nipples with a tan tone, perk from moderately sized breasts. Lancing her both nipples and keeping them ever-erect is a thick barbell of gold. The extra nipples that dotted her midsection and tipped her flat teats are spared the gold adornments. Even stranger than those piercings is what is between her legs. Ringed piercings have been set to her labia, connected by a long looped lock. The shackle of the padlock ended at her clit, hooking into a piercing that held it tightly in place. There is no way she could have any vaginal sex without the key to that padlock. And even then you wonder if it's pleasurable at all. <<generic>>"As a part of my employment contract, I am anal-only I am afraid. Is that a problem, $class?" If you are concerned about pleasing me, I've been trained to orgasm from anal penetration. And I am thankful too, four more years without being able to even rub my clit properly would be torture without it."<</generic>> Despite how extreme that restriction is, nothing in her voice hints at anything other than mild annoyance. [[That is too much for you, decline her offer.|declinefarah]] <<if $class is "fighter">> [[Accept her offer, anal is fine.|acceptfarah]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> [[Accept her offer, anal is fine.|farahsexwiz]] <</if>>[[100 gold.| "That is well within possibility. However when the Merchant's Guild gives out a loan, we require collateral and a signed agreement to return the amount. There is, also, vig." Vig? "Vyigrysh." She explains, a sly and empowered smile creasing her lips. "Interest. It's a resonable figure. Applied daily. And, it is compounding." [[That is too rich for your blood.| [[Agree to proceed.| [[200 gold.| "That is well within possibility. However when the Merchant's Guild gives out a loan, we require collateral and a signed agreement to return the amount. There is, also, vig." Vig? "Vyigrysh." She explains, a sly and empowered smile creasing her lips. "Interest. It's a resonable figure. Applied daily. And, it is compounding." While comprehending if you will follow through, Farah adds another detail. "An amount of this caliber will also require something given as collateral." You can feel the joy she has telling you that. Does she really take that much pleasure in her job? [[1000.| Without being impolite, she gives you a disarming smile. "I am afraid such a figure can't be given out to someone who isn't a member of the guild, our bank, or preapproved by the loan officer. I may be able to offer you a smaller amount to fund your endevour?" ([[Send to 100 or 200.|<<generic>>With a slight growl of disappointment, Farah turns her snout up at you and begins redressing. "Very well. I trust you can see yourself out? I must return to my post."<</generic>> You nod, and waving her a goodbye, close the door behind you. As you depart, you hear some annoyed grumbling from her. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]]<<generic>>"I am very pleased to hear that. You can just pull the plug out and begin whenever you're ready."<</generic>> The Saluki turns, and lifting up her lengthy and fluffy tail, shifts it aside. The curtain of fur hanging from it twitches with a suspended desire to wag. What appears to be a cut sapphire encrusts the buttplug she is holding tight to her plump cheeks. She clutches the back of a chair, one knee resting on it to give her some balance. You lower your trousers, her enticing display stiffening you uprightly. The straightforward and direct offer of being able to blow your load up her ass stirs excitement in you. She makes a feminine, needy coo of excitement feeling your manly hands grasp her ass and spread it. <<generic>>"My, humans are such a treat."<</generic>> Leaning forward, you put your entire body across her back, one of your hands grasping around her throat and squeezing it tightly. Something in you telling you to make her feel like the piece of prey for once. With your other hand, you hook two fingers around her plug and pull it out, first slowly to test the tightness. Then, when you feel her really gripping at it, you yank the silver bulb out. <<generic>>"Fuck! Grrrrhh.<</generic>> Her throat rumbles in your hand as she growls in pain and a hint of primal aggression. The curl of her lips trying to find themselves between a snarl and a smile gives you some satisfaction. Guiding yourself in, you see her claws dig into the maple of the chair's back as you penetrate her properly. Her ring is tight, and gives some fight, but the moment your cock's head is pushed past it she opens up. Her ass is warm and welcoming. At first, you'd call it loose, what with how little natural resistance meets your shaft as you hilt properly. But your thoughts are silenced when you try to back-stroke. You feel her clench and milk at your cock with her well-trained asshole, tightening around you like a cock ring and grasping with her walls. <<generic>>"Satisfactory?" She purrs, sultry eyes peeking past her shoulder at you.<</generic>> You nod, ramming yourself forward enough to make the chair clack on the floor. She groans and pushes back with her hips. The two of you find a dirty, passionate rhythm to this ass-fuck. Your balls whip against her chastity-locked cunt, meeting the sweet kiss of her wet pussy. She licks her lips now and again, groaning in the forceful pleasure only anal can particularly bring to a woman. As for you, your cock is plunging exciting new depths, savoring each pillowy pump against her rump. All that experience she's had going into pleasing you. It makes your eyes roll back, feeling an orgasm rise up from within you. Trying to make the most of it, you pick up the pace. The rattling of the chair becomes louder. Her pushed-aside tail whips your hip rapidly. <<generic>>"Do not stop!" She harshly whispers, her brow furrowed with desperate pleasure.<</generic>> You don't let up, a new vigor rising from your tensed thighs. She makes a sharp, shrill cry you worry for a moment will carry throughout the whole guild. You take hold of her neck and pull her head back, making her look back at you, her glasses shifting off her muzzle. <<generic>>"I am going to—"<</generic>> She finishes before her sentence. Her potent and lewd orgasm silences her words and melts them into a rumbling, thigh-shaking orgasm. Her toes clench down in her heels and she tries not to tip you and the chair over as the pleasure makes her go a bit limp. Seeing the canine turn into a simpering slut from the power of your meat, you with great satisfaction and a potent feeling of dominance, ejaculate in her. Your pumps speed up, before tapering down as you stroke out each droplet of semen you can produce. When you pull out, a healthy glob of white nut oozes from her abused ass, sliding down her quivering cunt and dripping to the floor. <<generic>>She takes a long time to catch her breath, waving her hand at you a few times. "Ahem, thank you, $name. A worthy meeting of entrepreneurial minds. If you'll excuse me I must freshen up." She looks down at the pool of cum she is leaking. "Myself and the room. Please, do you mind seeing yourself out?"<</generic>> Head a little dizzy with elation, you hardly care at all. You wave Farah good day, and saunter off from the Guild. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $farahFuck to true>><<generic>>"Ah," She silences herself, a look of mild disappointment clouding her visage. "I should have known a vulpine would be so... modestly endowed. Perhaps earlier in my term of chastity I would have welcomed such a furtive pygmy, but I worry neither of us will find much pleasure in the other's forms. However, I did offer."<</generic>> Her words and expression only make your eagerly twitching cock ebb pre further, spitting up a thin shot of excitement at her name-calling. The blank and to-the-point way she dissects your dagger spurs you on. The Saluki turns, and lifting up her lengthy and fluffy tail, shifts it aside. The curtain of fur hanging from it twitches with a suspended desire to wag. What appears to be a cut sapphire encrusts the buttplug she is holding tight to her plump cheeks. She clutches the back of a chair, one knee resting on it to give her some balance. You lower your trousers, her enticing display stiffening you uprightly. The straightforward offer of being able to blow your load up her ass stirs excitement in you. With one hand she spreads a cheek, her fingernails pulling on the stretchy and experienced pinkish asshole she is offering you. Something about her expectant look tells you not to just jam yourself in dry, so, you get behind her and ready your tongue. Lashing out from your muzzle, you lap at the financier's asshole, brushing your palette across the slight vinegar tang of the little sweat that had collected itself on her rear. Spurred on by the soft moans she purrs from her pursed lips, you nuzzle your maw deeper. Affectionate kisses come alongside toying with your shaft as you keep your excitement going. <<generic>>"Not so bad at that. I am certain you would become quite proficient given a long enough period locked up."<</generic>> You push aside those thoughts, and when you can bear the arousal no longer, you stop. Given the minor height difference, Farah has to accommodate by 'sitting' down on your lap more than you do mounting her. Slipping your dick inside her is quite easy. No struggle or strife, her tight ring parts readily for your slender probing. <<generic>>"Hmph."<</generic>> Her dispassionate and waiting expression causes you to pump fast to see about rousing some pleasure in her loins. Each potent thrust of your hips and slap of your nuts against her piercings edges you closer to your orgasm with hers nowhere in sight. <<generic>>"Go on. Squirt your load in my ass so we can both continue our day." She commands, dryly. Her tone is so mellow, that if you weren't nuts deep in her tailhole you'd have thought she was trying to get you to sign something.<</generic>> A creeping feeling of inadequacy puts down tinder on the fire of your excitement. A race between keeping yourself from cumming, and trying to prove yourself, creates a vicious cycle. Your efforts produce little more than a shake in Farah's body, rocked by your 'ferocious' humping. Finally, despite muttering that you need to hold on just a bit more, you ejaculate. A sigh of relief comes from her as she feels you, at last, empty your marbles. <<generic>>"My. Well, now that's done." She comments, already pulling off your knot mid-orgasm.<</generic>> You try to savor what expression of pleasure you can get, the throb of your needy dick getting quelled by her merely tugging off your thin knot. More potent than that is the radiant, internal humiliation of the exchange. <<generic>>"I will need to clean myself. I suggest you find your own way out. It is best if we are not seen leaving together."<</generic>> [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $farahFuck to true>> Accepting the initiation ritual feels like a no-brainer. Really, you hardly feel like you've thought at all since you entered the Leaky Vial and joined the orgies here. The mother bunny begins the preparation. Incense is lit, and the air becomes smokey with a sweet smelling floral fragrance. It joins the earthy and damp smell of cut grass to produce a mellowing effect on you. Your eyes become half-lidded, and you feel like you're floating as they guide you through the process. Chanting tingles your scalp and makes your finger tips feel numb, the low hum of feminine cantillations setting the backdrop for your marking. With dabs of red and blue paint, your bare skin is given an intricate web of sharp and aggressive lines. Each swab of the cool paint another step deeper into submission to the process. You turn yourself over to the ritual, and the untold pleasures that would be bestowed onto you soon. When they are done, you look down at your body and find the battle-hardened form you're familiar with masked with tribal calligraphy. A certain masculine virileness is depicted with each curved stroke of paint, all centering on your manhood. Mother bunny snaps you from your self-reflection by prompting you to drink from a wooden bowl. The liquid within is warm and viscous, but she urges you to chug it. It's unpleasant at first, but the thick formula gives way to a healthy sweetness. Before you can ask what it is, your body answers the question. A surge of lust wracks your body, the pangs of arousal buzzing on all your erogenous zones. As the flood of testosterone pumps through your veins, a desire to breed something, anything, overcomes you. Perhaps having expected this, you blink and find before you the mother bunny, her legs spread, inviting you to the bed. There is no need to think, you leap atop her like an animal. Without aiming yourself, you thrust your cock into her wet and welcoming netherlips and grunt with the suddenness at which her heat hits you. The world melts away with her inviting cunt acting as a portal to a realm of serene and all-encompassing pleasure. Your comparatively large body completely eclipses the small, motherly rabbit. Each potent pump of your form into hers makes her jiggle and yelp in pleasure, her hands clutching to your shoulders. Before long you're covered in them. Rabbit girls, who you briefly wonder might be her daughters, drape themselves off you. One turns your cheek to press you into a kiss. Another suckles at your balls, two more yet play with your pecs and tease your nipples. Each soft fingerpad, tongue, and kiss the plant on your skin setting off a small but deeply delectable feeling. <<generic>>"Fill me with your seed, $name! Breed us!" Mother bun commands.<</generic>> You oblige, holding her down with a ferocity born of orgasmic desire. A vigorous surge of relief follows the release of your seed. The pleasure is mind-addling, but instead of the familiar wind-down, the unclenching of your tense muscles, you find yourself still hungry. And hard. If it is the work of the aphrodisiac, you don't know, and don't care. One of the other bunnies leans forward a bit, bending over on all fours for you. Dripping cunt fluid and cum from the freshly creampied mother bunny, you press your shaft into the next girl's waiting depths... The orgiastic commune of lapines has you as its centerpiece. A human bull each and every one is hellbent on being bred by. Each shot of spunk you pour into, onto, or at them no less potent than the first. If you could think of anything more advanced than which you will fuck next you'd wonder just how you're producing so much. You take them two at a time, fucking one atop the other, while fingering a third. A fourth plays with your nuts to make sure her sister is bred proper. You roll to your back, plucking up a fresh bun like a toy and thrusting her down on your dick. A yet-unused, cheeky rabbit whore mounts your face, grinding herself on your lips and nose while you buck up at her partner. The feeling that courses through you is unlike any other. It's a sort of transcendent pleasure that binds you and all these buns together. And bends them to your will. Their fur bristles and their cunts dampen at your touch, any playful defiance melting at the grasp of your hand to their hips. This sense of being on top of the world strikes you. A potent masculinity tightens each muscles, strains the throb of your cock with a life-giving need to plunge into the next bun. Your form is large enough to encapsulate an entire one in a tight hold. The intimacy of the act exists only for a moment before you find a new womb to make your own. You feel like you could do this forever. That you could knock up every bitch on the planet. A blur of carnal expression passes, melting together in a spinning mess of white furred rabbit ass. By the end of it, a heap of bunnies lay upon you. All purring is sedate pleasure, leaking your virile essense. Your eyes flutter closed and you find yourself snoozing. The soreness in your muscles and body a pleasing strain that keeps you still in your slumber. [[Continue.|bunnymask2-3f]] Accepting the initiation ritual feels like a no-brainer. Really, you hardly feel like you've thought at all since you entered the Leaky Vial and joined the orgies here. The mother bunny begins the preparation. Incense is lit, and the air becomes smokey with a sweet smelling floral fragrance. It joins the earthy and damp smell of cut grass to produce a mellowing effect on you. Your eyes become half-lidded, and you feel like you're floating as they guide you through the process. Chanting tingles your scalp and makes your finger tips feel numb, the low hum of feminine cantillations setting the backdrop for your marking. With dabs of pink and prple paint, your fur is given an intricate web of soft and curved lines. Each swab of the cool paint another step deeper into submission to the process. You turn yourself over to the ritual, and the untold pleasures that would be bestowed onto you soon. When they are done, you look down at your body and find the soft form you're familiar with masked with tribal calligraphy. A certain feminine fertility is depicted with each curved stroke of paint, all centering on your soft, unstirred sheath. You wonder a moment why you haven't managed to get hard yet. Mother bunny snaps you from your self-reflection by prompting you to drink from a wooden bowl. The liquid within is warm and viscous, but she urges you to chug it. It's unpleasant at first, but the thick formula gives way to a healthy saltiness. Before you can ask what it is, your body answers the question. A surge of lust wracks your body, the pangs of arousal buzzing on all your erogenous zones. As the flood of estrogen pumps through your veins, a desire to be bred by something, anything, overcomes you. Your vision warbles and you shutter your eyes, holding tight to the feeling of aroused emptiness in your ass. You need something there, to fill it. And it wouldn't hurt if you could have your throat filled too. There is a small commotion that rouses you from your daydream, you blink and find before you an array of males and shemales. Their origins are not important. Their cocks are. And if they can solve this sweltering heat that's fallen on your fur. Standing small and eagerly, you scooped up like a toy by the most eager among them. It's a shebull, a cow with curved horns and a fat bovine cock. Gusts of air exhale from her nostrils as she sets you belly down on the bed. Her hoof lands square on the mattress by your hip, hemming you in beside her. Her first entry into your ass makes you holler for joy, the feeling of emptiness giving way to slick and lubricated fullness. Your ass, in its entirety, spread and clenched tight around her cock. No erection stirs between your legs, but your dick tingles. As do your nipples. Buzzing with the pleading question to be touched. With no one but yourself to fulfill the demand, your hands shift under your form to pull and toy with your own boy-breasts, finding them perkier and fuller than you expected. The very notion their magic has warped your body so makes your brain swim with erotic chemicals. A vulpine male with a smug aura about him mounts the bed before you. You look up at him in wonderment, seeing him marked not with the pinkish and soft womb tattoos on your fur, but something sharper and of a deeper red. His prick surprises you, stiff and large, brushing it across your face. You can't do anything but hum and buzz with curiosity at the scent of his nuts muddying your muzzle. He pushes himself entirely across your face, as if to remind you that no all foxes are as small as you. It gives you a pleasant spine-tingle, a sense of rightness, and joy that spikes suddenly. As the back of your body is subjected to a numbness delivered by each virile pump of the cowgirl ramming her cock up your ass, you orgasm. Without even the most remote of stiffness, you have a musk and prostate forced ejaculation. Streaks of surprisingly clearish semen closer to a girl's ejaculate than your normal cum stains the bed sheets. The hot spurts of the girl unloading her balls into your backside keeps your radiant, warming orgasm going. The vulpine pulls open your mouth as the cow pulls her cock out. Someone else mounts your ass soon enough. Hands grip your hips, your throat and cheeks. Dick slides into both of your holes. Your hands. Your paws. From every direction a blurry rain of cum in shot across you. All you can do is giggle and bounce. Riding dick, throwing your ass back into the laps of strange men. Begging them to get more cum on your lips and chest. The warmth, the connection, the submission. It hangs like a feverish halo above your brow. The room spins with it, that feeling of service. Throwing yourself into the panting, sweltering, musky, sweat-slick void of breeding, becoming the toy you never knew you wanted to be. After sometime exhaustion sets into your very bones. You look around and find nothing but pleased partners, a perfect cuddle pile with you at the lauded centerpiece. You may be sticky with nameless fluids, but satisfaction is inhaled and exhaled with each breath. [[Continue|bunnymask2-3w]]<<generic>>"I am Mother Jeanotte, leader of this branch of Bunnymasks, and mother to some of our members. Including one you've met, Leko is my daughter."<</generic>> Jeanotte is pudgy. Her body has a particularly flabby look to it, a lifestyle of hedonism and giving birth having left their marks on her. However, each mar of age and effort only amplifies the allure of her. Her tummy has the accent of stretch marks around her muffin top, mostly concealed by white fur, but just barely offering a look at the proof of her childbirth. Hiding among the marks and fur appears to be some sort of ornate womb tattoo. Her tall ears have bent down with the sag of age that has also made her breasts look excessively ample. Her pussy is puffy and looks like it has known the pleasure of dozens of cocks. A certain wonderment hits you as you fantasize just how excellent she must be at sex. She's made her entire life devoted to breeding and banging, surely she is a professional. [[Continue.|bunnymask2-ask]] When the morning comes, the Mother Bun offers you a bath. Her attending horde of bunny girls are overly pleased to bathe you themselves, saving you the trouble of lifting a finger. Considering the state your body is in, you happily take it. Washing the cyprine and sweat from you feels quite pleasantly ritualistic. The reddish and blue paints bleed from your fur to the bath water and drain away to the piping. The soaps smell peculiarly like nothing. <<generic>>"Oh, it saves a lot of trouble. Not everyone wants it known they showered or bathed somewhere in particular. A scent-less soap lets you remain anonymous," the Mother Bun explains.<</generic>> <<generic>>It's then you completely forgot your mask. You touch your cheek in search for it. She chuckles and waves it at you. "You're one of us, officially. No need to hide."<</generic>> Taking a look at yourself reveals a form you're not entirely familiar with. Through the soreness of your experience, there is some pleasant feelings. Your body feels more robust from head to toe, and your figure reflects that. Though they aren't bulging, nor obscenely cut, your muscles have most definitely gained excess vigor. A flex of your hand and tensing of your bicep You look between your legs to find a full and throbbing hard-on. Like the rest of you, it feels more potent, and perhaps a bit longer. Undoubtedly it's harder, and despite how much it was used yesterday, you feel like you could go again this instant. Before you can really acclimate to these changes and ponder their nuances, you find yourself whisked away. The bunnymasks give you a meal and send you on your way. Even with their aid, you feel yourself in desperate need of a rest. You take a day to yourself and reflect on the experience. ''Your ability to resist influence has degraded. Your Willpower has decreased!'' ''Your body is more alluring, and confidence in your form lends you charm. Your Charisma has increased!'' ''Your body has become more robust. Your Strength has increased!'' [[Sleep.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> <<set $playerStr += 1>> <<set $playerCha += 1>> <<set $bunnyStage to 3>> When the morning comes, the Mother Bun offers you a bath. Considering the state your fur is in, you happily take it. Washing the semen and sweat from you feels quite pleasantly ritualistic. The pinkish paints bleed from your fur to the bath water and drain away to the piping. The soaps smell peculiarly like nothing. <<generic>>"Oh, it saves a lot of trouble. Not everyone wants it known they showered or bathed somewhere in particular. A scent-less soap lets you remain anonymous," the Mother Bun explains.<</generic>> <<generic>>It's then you completely forgot your mask. You touch your cheek in search for it. She chuckles and waves it at you. "You're one of us, officially. No need to hide."<</generic>> Taking a look at yourself reveals a form you're not entirely familiar with. Through the soreness of your experience, there is some pleasant feelings. And new additions. Your chest appears ever so slightly more full. The barest, budding forms of breasts cast a shadow over the rest of your torso. It's with a tentative hand that you touch them. Sensitivity makes the nipples perk to hardness with just the slightest touch of your fingertips. You look between your legs to find a full and throbbing hard-on. But, it seems a bit more modest than before. Is it possible that it's smaller? Before you can really acclimate to these changes and ponder their nuances, you find yourself whisked away. The bunnymasks give you a meal and send you on your way. Even with their aid, you feel yourself in desperate need of a rest. You take a day to yourself and reflect on the experience. ''Your ability to resist influence has degraded. Your Willpower has decreased!'' ''Your body is more alluring, and confidence in your form lends you charm. Your Charisma has increased!'' ''Your body can endure more punishment and use. Your Constitution has increased!'' [[Sleep.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> <<set $playerCon += 1>> <<set $playerCha += 1>> <<set $bunnyStage to 3>> You investigate near the Leaky Vial and find it shuttered to you, the guard shakes his head no when you approach. Despite his mostly nude appearance, you have the feeling he could handle himself in a scuffle. To say nothing of whatever help he could summon from below. Not wishing to risk a fight for little gain, you turn away from the Bunnymasks and return to the city center. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<ava>>"Where the hell did you get this?" Ava turns the bunnymask over in her hand. She looks at it with concern.<</ava>> You explain a woman, a rabbit, gave it to you. <<ava>>"Do you know what this is?" She asks in a manner you detect is partly rhetorical, but you answer anyway.<</ava>> You tell her you what little you've been told, and what you experienced with it. <<ava>>"This mask is enchanted with lust amplifying magic, it also saps one's willpower and focus. Donning this would turn you into a slave to your baser instincts over time. These bunnymasks are dangerous."<</ava>> You ask her to tell you what she knows about them, and the cult. <<ava>>"They worship some awful snake-god. Once upon a time, they caused great distress in my homeland. Thankfully they were culled before they got out of control, but at great cost. Many men and women were irreparably altered, to say nothing of the damage it did to the city. There were even murders! They had embedded themselves at nearly every level of the city's government and social strata."<</ava>> She turns the mask over in her hand again. <<ava>>"We must go to the guard with this, have them raid the cult, and dispose of them before it gets out of hand."<</ava>> [[You implore her to consider the possibility of the guard being infiltrated.|avabunsolo]] [[You agree, take your concerns to the city watch.|avabunguard]] She becomes very pensive, but can't deny the possibility. She admitted herself, in her home, they'd infected everything before being rooted out. <<ava>>"Going to the city watch could be dangerous indeed. Perhaps we could..."<</ava>> Her voice trails off but you encourage her to go on, curious as to her idea. <<ava>>"Perhaps we could infiltrate them ourselves? And solve the problem with a bit of subterfuge?"<</ava>> A smirk plays at the edge of her beak, the thrill of danger making her feathers bristle. Her smile is just as insidious as the cultists, and you find its reflection mirrored on your face. It could be thrilling, and what better way for you and her to bond than to take down a cult just the two of you? <<ava>>"So how should we do this?"<</ava>> [[Discuss a plan.|avabunplan]] [[Reconsider.|avabunout]] With a sigh of relief, she agrees, smiling. You and her close up shop for the day, and make haste for the barracks. It takes some convincing, and a bit of coin from Ava, but you eventually get them to investigate the issue. The guard lieutenant offers you some coin to join the sortie. It could be risky, but it might be a good way to pick up some experience and curry some favor with them. You agree and join the raid they plan at midnight. You take them to the Leaky Vial, and storm the place. Swords and cudgels raised, you easily push your way past the stallion watching the door. The basement of the Leaky Vial opens up into a gloomy den of depraved sex. Bodies and lewditity of all shape, manner and form sprawl out before you. It's breathtaking, almost, just how enthrallingly vile the sex before you is. To your shock, the debauchery and orgy blend seamlessly into violence. Some combination of shame brought to light sparks defiance in the naked revelers you and the guards try to apprehend. Little blood is shed, but as if driven by a higher power, the cultists put up a strong fight. Many members of the city are caught, captured, and unmasked. Some escape, despite your best efforts. The sharpened blades and blunt ends of blackjacks amusingly dissuade very few erections, and many of the caught worshippers remain hard as ever in their manacles. With the ringleaders deposed or in chains, the shadow of the Bunnymasks can begin to leave the city. You and the men share a round of drinks and some extreme amusement at all you have seen. Seemingly lacking any insight or self-reflection, some of them express a desire to blow off some stress at the High Tail by Bottlesip Way. [[Continue.|tapexit]] <<set $bunnyStage to 30>> The Leaky Vial remains empty and desolate since the guard's raid on the Bunnymask hideout. Like rats exposed to the light, the cult has fled and left nothing but a derelict building. You turn away from the abandoned building and return to the city center. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] The pair of you burn the midnight oil, discussing potential routes of entry. Taking out a whole cult alone isn't exactly easy. But Ava has plenty of magical tricks hidden up her sleeve. And with your brawn, you can get her right where she needs to be to safely. If your cover is blown that is. There is one major issue, though. What of Ava's mask? Looking at her slender, beautiful crane's beak you struggle to figure how a bunnymask would even fit on her. <<ava>>"Aha, that's the genius of it. I have one. Ahem, before you ask. No it is not 'mine', and yes it is magically inert. It is a souvenier from home. Its technically for sale."<</ava>> She ruffles around in some of the boxes in her office. <<ava>>"Where was... aha! Right where I left it."<</ava>> You amusingly counter with it's always the last place you look. She scuffs a laugh and when she twirls around, she has donned a beautiful and small bunnymask. The porcelain of it is a vibrant, captivating crimson that plays dangerously well off her plumage. The mask cover only a portion of her beak, resting on it and concealing her face save for her eyes. The bunny ears themselves curve up strangely, but fittingly. <<ava>>"Inventive design for a crane, no? They turn down no members, so long as you are willing to devote your body and bodily fluids to their god."<</ava>> She chuckles, demurely covering her mouth. <<ava>>"I hope it'll be enough to get me in, even if it's different than the others. Before I forget, I will disenchant the effect on your mask as well, so you keep a straight head on your shoulders."<</ava>> But now, you must hatch a plan... [[Continue.|avabunplan2]]<<ava>>"It's better not to rush headlong into an endeavor like this, but we shouldn't wait too long to act. Come see me at once if you change your mind. I would be loathe to see Tappahannock suffer from these cultists."<</ava>> Ava gives you a warm, but concerned smile. She understands your need to think on it. [[Continue.|avatalkmenu]] Ava gives you a sly smile at the mention of hatching a plan. <<ava>>"Bird. Egg. Hatch. Very witty." She snickers at the weakness of the joke rather than the joke itself, tapping a claw to her beak in thought immediately after.<</ava>> <<ava>>"I believe I have it. These cults operate on getting their members to succumb to their baser urges. Worshippers become addicted to the pleasure, and will do anything to experience it again. What if we made it impossible for them?"<</ava>> She stands and once more inspects her office, searching for something. The fluff and flutter of her tail feathers give you an insight into the busy thoughts in her brain. You ask her to clarify what she means, aren't you already doing that by splitting up the cult? <<ava>>"Well yes, but, what I mean is this!" She holds aloft an ugly and small red vial with a cork stopper.<</ava>> Inside a viscous fluid makes itself known. There is something about the very sight of the vial that makes your stomach tangle itself into knots. The poor work on the glass vial, spotty and beaten, and the red dye on it combine to make an unpleasant object. <<ava>>"This is a potent anti-aphrodisiac. We just need to slip it to them! Can't fuck if your naughty bits are limp and dry."<</ava>> Her chest rises and falls with a nervous laugh, rolling the vial back and forth over her claw. <<ava>>"The best part, and this is where it really solves the problem, it works for a few weeks. A droplet will make a man turn away from his wife no matter how desperate she is."<</ava>> You wonder how she came across such a potion, but she has all manner of odd artifice in her possession, so you let it go. You do ask if it would be a good idea to take the potion yourselves, to remain immune to the cult's effects. Ava considers your suggestion for awhile, the debate in her head playing across her features as she weighs it in her mind. <<ava>>"I don't believe it would be smart. The potion would do a lot more than disrupt our desire for sex. It would make us repulsed by it. There would be no way to conceal our disgust. It would be impossible to blend in."<</ava>> You express surprise at how potent the effects are, but accept her words. <<ava>>"This is a dangerous proposition. If we're caught, it'll be bad." She thinks aloud, looking to you for comfort.<</ava>> You nod, that is true. Her tale of the cult from her home sounded quite violent. The Bunnymasks here might not hesitate to cut the throats of any dissenters. You bolster her mood by reminding her that you're her bodyguard, and no harm will come to her while you are in her service. <<ava>>"Let's go this evening then. One after the other. And once we're inside, we'll meet and find a way to slip them this potion."<</ava>> [[Continue.|avabunplan3]] You and Ava wait until night, when the invitation says to arrive. With little idea of what to expect, the night is filled with an oppressive level of tension. Following the invitation's directions leads you to a cellar by the side of an establishment. 'The Leaky Vial.' Shops closed at this hour, dark, dusty and derelict. But outside, folding his arms, was a tall and bleak looking stallion. Dark of fur, potent in his masculinity. And oddly concealed by the white porcelain of a bunnymask. It lay strangely on his long snout, ears against his own tall one. He looked like a bulk of mean masculinity. Though, the bunnymask wasn't helping his brutal image. <<generic>>"Hello handsome, do you have an invitation?" He queries with a chipper voice. "And, a mask."<</generic>> You do indeed, you present the invitation to him and he looks it over. From the bridge of his long snout he exhales. No negative emotions are carried with his breath—moreso contentment. <<generic>>"Nice to see a $class of your stature joining the festivities. I can tell it's your first time. You don't have your mask on."<</generic>> You ask if it's expressly needed. <<generic>>"Absolutely is. You can't enter without it."<</generic>> You fetch the bunny mask from where you stowed it, and lay it over your face. It fits like a glove, resting gently on your ears and nose and feeling light as a feather despite the porcelain-like material. The feeling it gives you is one of equal lightness. But after just a second, you realize it's all in your head. The mask has been disenchanted, none of its foul magic play on the harp of your mind. <<generic>>"You look ready to play. You can leave your things anywhere you like. No thieves or miscreants here. Promise you that."<</generic>> There is no way he'll let you through clothed, and there is no place to stow a weapon. You don't think you have the time or skill to slip a dagger into your prison pocket, so you agree to the terms. [[Continue.|avabunplan4]] Past him, immediately the din of conversation, sex, and music fills the air. Bleak and dim stairs give way shortly to a gloomy and sensual firelight keeping a large and well-ornamented cellar. An attendant urges you for your items and clothing. The room was lined with soft splendor. Throw pillows, rugs, bedding, and lounging chairs. But more important than the furniture was the fucking. Any denizen, any race you'd seen was plugging rod A to slot B. The air is heavy with the scents and sounds of sex. Wet, slick plapping. Guttural, heavy pumping. Positions you'd not even conceived of, bodies twisted into such pleasure it makes you dizzy. You look around for potential guards or enemies but see no sight of them. Upon entering you loiter near the entrance to meet with Ava. As to not arouse suspicion, she delays her entrance. But as more new guests filter in, you begin to get a little worried. Just as you begin planning to abort the mission, you see her. Ava's red mask makes her look stunning. To say nothing of her supple and willowy nude form. She moved with as much grace as she did clothed, but now all that made her a woman was bare. Her chest isn't too heavy, breasts that could comfortably fill your hand hang from her chest, obscured by plumage. Ava's robe oft conceals the curve of her hips when she sits or walks, but now nothing could dissuade curious eyes from the rump Ava sported. Ava didn't seem fazed by her nakedness, if her movements were anything to go off of. She drifts toward you with disarming grace. But, her first words dispel the confidence her body projects. A low whisper tickles your ear, her beak hardly moving as she speaks. <<ava>>"Excuse my nudity, it was necessary."<</ava>> You likewise, needlessly, apologize for your state of being. Though you have to admit, a chance to be nude beside such a beautiful woman is a boon. Her mask hides her bashful expression. Ostensibly to blend in, but truly to cop a feel, Ava drapes herself over you. The touch of her downy feathers to your skin is tantalizing. She brushes her leg up and down yours, touching your thigh and hip with her knee. Her talons trace the creases of your muscles. <<ava>>"You have a body befitting a bodyguard. A warrior should be so trim. My, my. The human form is beautiful. Are your women as gorgeous as this?"<</ava>> You remind Ava that most women don't have bodies or bits like yours. It isn't something you desperately fought against, but between your legs, a hard-on points right to her dripping nethers. The touch of her warm body to your own, and the miasmatic lull of the mask, seem to be working in tandum. But wait, didn't she disenchant the masks? <<ava>>She swallows. "It must be the air here. There is nothing but sex all around us. Excuse me. Though. Perhaps we should... just to blend in? What better way to make ourselves hidden than in joining the revelry? So long as we strike later."<</ava>> You ask her if she still has the vial. <<ava>>"I do, it is hidden in my plumage. Quite inventively if I say so myself. Ah, but what about what I said? What I said a moment ago?"<</ava>> [[Agree, a quick fuck should clear your heads.|avabunfuck]] [[Lust-addled or not, you need to resist the urge and focus.|avabun5]] It takes no more than that statement to convince Ava. Compelled by the tension the air is laden with, the two of you make to fuck standing up against the wall. She grasps your cock and aims it at her slit. The warm feeling of her arousal coating your glans makes your heart surge. The elegant crane you met on that rainy day now passionately keeping back a moan as she descends down your cock. <<if $virgin is true>>An internal worry about your lack of experience is quickly shushed when you feel yourself move on instinct to enact your masculine want upon her feminine beauty.<</if>> You could ask for no better a feeling than holding onto her hips and feeling the downy of her feathers on your palms as you help lead her down. She adjusts and readjusts her raised leg, clutching the wall behind you for support. An expert level of stabilization and skill from Ava surprises you, but you're a little too distracted to think on it much. You cup one of her boobs to your hand and roll the nipple around your tongue. You lean forward to bury your face by her chest, exhaling warm moans that ruffle her feathers. <<ava>>"$name, this... this feeling."<</ava>> Ava's voice is heavy with arousal, and the two of you feel connected not just by the flesh but by something deeper. A pleasing and connective force wraps both of you in its tender grip. It feels seductive, and as you share glances with Ava and her body, you can tell she is enveloped in it too. The slow, almost romantic meeting of your nethers devolves into something more frenetic as your orgasms approach. Ava slows, you hasten. She hastens, you slow. Both of you silently amping each other up with the intent to cum just at the same time. The toying of your cock in her tight, slick passage is almost too much to bear. But you hold on to see her turn her head away, beak parted in silent moans as you hit her deeply with your shaft. You aren't certain how long it takes, but eventually the two of you orgasm. And when it happens, you aren't even certain where you are. The feeling is sublime, holding each other close and calling out lustful declarations of appreciation and jibbering moans of climactic energy being released. The squeeze of her cunt on your cock and the throbbing spurt of your seed against her ovaries feels more intimate than <<if $virgin is true>>you could ever imagine.<<else>>any sex you've had before.<</if>> [[Continue.|avabunfuck2]] Ava swallows and nods, covering her face with her hand to hide her embarrassment. <<ava>>"Excuse me, the energy of the room caught me a moment."<</ava>> You give her lower back a gentle grope, reassuring more than lewd. Turning your head to the side, you notice the refreshments offered. And, among them, a vast bowl of jungle juice. The perfect transmission method for the potion. With a sly signal you prompt her to look where you are. Ava follows your eyes and smiles. <<ava>>"Good catch, perfect place to start this party off wrong." She inhales nerves and exhales confidence. "Alright, watch my back. Let's do this thing, bodyguard."<</ava>> Ava approaches first, trying to weave through the crowd of sex crazed revelers. Both you and her have to endure lusty and inviting looks and gropes, trying your best to play them off as casually as possible. It's good providence that most of these sex fiends are so needy they're quick to find a new partner. A scan of the room nets you little. That is to say, you can't identify any potential guards or lookouts. Even the most suspiciously placed or posed individuals are busy engaging in the bacchanalia in some manner. The coast seems clear, so you give Ava the signal. From a hidden spot between her breast plumage she reveals and uncorks the vial. It's an impressive show of legerdemain, she pours the entire contents out as she pours herself a cup, concealing her act with the collection of strange wine. You notice how she dares not take a sip of it. <<ava>>"Let us linger a moment, and make certain our plan is effective."<</ava>> You nod in agreement, and the two of you return to your previous position. It's awkward, but not unpleasant, to need to cuddle in this way. Despite the nudity, there is a certain level of intimate innocence and pleasing apprehension to the touches you two share. Ava is undeniably beautiful, and she clearly takes joy in your masculine form. It's with a pleasant coolness you appreciate the demure and coy looks she gives you now and then. [[Continue.|avabun6]] As time passes, more and more people partake of the spiked drink, spreading the potion around further. The aura of the room, the sounds of passion, and your continued heavy petting draw forward an almost unbearable arousal. Occasionally you're movements have her labia brushing the glans of your cock, and the flutter it gives her eyes takes all your willpower to not act on. If it weren't for the risk of succumbing to the salacious magic here, you'd be attempting to knock Ava up repeatedly. And by the look her eyes are giving you, it seems like she'd be raking her talons across your back and begging for another round each time. Just as the temptation becomes almost too much for mere willpower to halt, the two of you begin to hear grumblings. Annoyance, anger, disappointment. Not everyone supped from the wine, but enough have now to cause a disruption. The pair of you share a discreet chuckle at the sight of those horny bastards coming to their senses. Not to mention the amusement of the limp noodles and bored women that now dotted the room. Like a ritual spell disrupted, the cosmic haze of lewdity seems to fade, and the usual feeling cowling your mind and eyes lifts. Before you and her can celebrate too much, you notice something that pushes you to action. A set of men, partly dressed, cutting their way to the crowd to approach you. Their partial nudity makes them no less threatening, and in your current state, you cannot protect yourself or Ava. So, you urge her to leave with you as casually as possible. Most are too distracted by the effects of the potion bringing them to their senses, and grappling with post-nut clarity, to notice you. From the hostess who collected your items, you reclaim your possessions and dress swiftly. Only enough for decency so you can slip away into the city. Ava responds remarkably well to your orders, following your every word. You keep close watch on the men as they approach, but once you're out of the Leaky Vial they hesitate to chase. That doesn't stop you from keeping a vigilant look around until you and Ava return to her office safely. [[Continue.|avabun7]]<<ava>>"We did splendidly didn't we?" Ava asks with excitement. Her robes are still a little disheveled from the quick dress-up.<</ava>> You consider her form, still amped from the unreleased lust developed earlier. Her robe isn't tied properly, showing a lot more cleavage than normal. <<ava>>"With trust in their operation unsettled, I am confident the Bunnymasks in Tappahannock will scurry off to find some new hovel to hold up in."<</ava>> Her words land late, and she catches you staring. Her coy smile returns, and with the shrug of her shoulders, the robes covering her breasts fall to the sides entirely. The fabric bundles under them, draped over her forearms now. Her nipples are stiff and pale pink, perky and alluring. <<ava>>"Perhaps we ought to blow off some steam, before we find ourselves tempted by outside forces, what do you say?"<</ava>> [[Accept her offer.|avabunexit2]] [[Decline her advance.|avabunexit]] Once your orgasms subsides, you feel the strength drain from your body. Suddenly, a dour-looking and very nude mature bunny woman arrives, with a pair of burly men. Hemmed in by them, naked and lacking weapons, the will to fight flees your form. Ava likewise goes weak in the knees, met with the oppressive aura of the trio. [[Attempt to flee.|avabunflee]] [[Attempt to fight.|avabunfight]] Moving, and thinking, as quickly as the sludge of your thoughts allow, you grab Ava. With a tight hold around her bicep, you lead her away from them, cutting a path through the revelers. Many of them are too busy getting their peckers sucked or holes filled to really pay you or the toughs any mind. But, unfortunately, your one exit is blocked by that black-furred stallion from earlier. Heart sinking, muscles tensing, and options narrowing, you search the room hurriedly. But it's all too late. You and Ava are grabbed and wrested from each other with force. The crane gives up quickly, unable to defend herself with her frail form. You would have liked to put up a valiant effort, but the haze of the Bunnymask's den, and your recent revelry make your body sluggish and ineffective. You're as easy prey as Ava is. [[Continue.|avafuck3]] Despite the wobbliness your recent orgasm brings, and the disorder of being in the nude, you stand your ground. You interpose yourself between Ava and the others. What follows is hardly your best showing. The unease of having to protect your nude body, coupled with the sludge your thoughts have to trudge through to make each motion happen, makes you easy prey. You're seized by the arms. And your best efforts to bodyguard Ava are for naught as she is likewise scooped up. With no one caring or noticing, you two are dragged to a side room. [[Continue.|avafuck3]] You are brought to your knees, your arms tied tight behind your back. It's humiliating and uncomfortable to be naked before your captives. It's a small grace that they are mostly unclothed, with a few scant scraps covering their important bits barely. Ava is set to kneel before you, likewise tied. She gives you a regretful sideways glance, sympathetic and guilty both, but not angry at you. You and her both are patted down, despite your nudeness. The guards find and turn over Ava's potion. Her short stature and motherly figure is a fitting match for the disappointment upon the mature bun's face. Her body has a particularly flabby look to it, a lifestyle of hedonism and giving birth having left their marks on her. However, each marr of age and effort only amplifies the allure of her. Her tummy has the accent of stretch marks around her muffin top, mostly concealed by white fur, but just barely offering a look at the proof of her childbirth. Hiding among the marks and fur appears to be some sort of ornate womb tattoo. Her tall ears have bent down with the sag of age that has also made her breasts look excessively ample. Her pussy is puffy and looks like it has known the pleasure of dozens of cocks. She produces and waves Ava's potion before the two. <<generic>>"It is regretful that sometimes we have people who don't see how unifying and purifying our message can be. And these people seek to destroy us, rather than embracing the great joy Svethra can bring."<</generic>> <<ava>>"How did you know?"<</ava>> The bun laughs in an almost condescending way. <<generic>>"The first sign was the red mask. But you two lovebirds boning gave me time enough to detect that both masks were disenchanted. That was a pretty big indicator something was off."<</generic>> <<ava>>"What now?" Ava growls, testing her binds, and looking to you shiftily.<</ava>> You give them a try too, but find them more than adequate. Succeeding only in making them more constricting, you relax yourself and listen for a moment. "Both of you will be shown the light. I assure you we have a one hundred percent conversion rate." She snaps her fingers and her helpers force open Ava's beak. She squeals and struggles, looking to you for help. You thrash and tug at your binds, trying to do something to stop what they're doing to her. With a pained grunt, you fall to your chin, watching in horror as you expect them to violate her throat. But, they don't. They force down a pill, a set of them. The medicine pellet is large for what you have seen in the past. They hold her beak closed now, and put a hand over her nostrils until she can bear it no longer and is forced to swallow. With a dry gulp, you see the lump of medicine roll down her throat. And then they turn to you. Ava gasps and gags now that her mouth is free, trying to spit up the medicine but not succeeding. <<generic>>"You won't want to do that in a moment. Those are incredibly potent aphrodisiacs. In just a bit, you won't want anything other than a relief from the heat it'll inflict on you."<</generic>> Holding shut your jaw like a steel trap only works for so long. With persistence and patience, the two guards manage to wrench open your mouth and press you to consume the same medicine Ava had. It sits in your throat like a rock, rolling down to your stomach. The sensation of it is largely psychosomatic, but it makes you repulsed to think of what it will do to you. A crushing sense of lacking control dawns over you, and dread ties your guts in knots. <<generic>>"Take them to the cells and let it work on them a bit."<</generic>> [[Continue.|avafuck4]] You are brought another layer deeper into the earth. The walls and cells here seem far older than the Leaky Vial. If you weren't currently in chains, you might be interested to know who built this or how they gained access to it. As it stands, you are sporting a potent and unwanted erection while being manhandled to a prison cell. Hardly the most comfortable, you're placed on your back to a padded slab and chained in place. It's immediately obvious that the position allows your body to be poked, prodded, abused and your cock is free to be ridden or touched. The distress of captivity isn't culled at all by the highly sexualized nature of your bondage. But that stress is increasingly displaced by a potent and urgent need to fuck. It strikes you first as if you haven't gotten off in a while. Then, it feels like a long while. By the time you are fully secured and the guards have left you alone, you feel like a sailor just making port after a year at sea. You need a woman. Hell, you need a hole. Any. A voice that grows quieter each second keeps trying to remind you to remain focused on escape. Or at the least resisting. A reminder that these feelings are unnatural, compelled by that medicine, and not your own. ''Your ability to resist influence has degraded. Your Willpower has decreased!'' Looking past yourself, you see Ava is being placed in the cell across yours. It's difficult to see each other, but she is strapped down much like you are. Her arousal is so potent you can smell it, or perhaps that's just your horny imagination. Either way you can certainly see how her leaking cunt is making her feathers glisten. The guards wish you a good night, and leave you alone. After a period of quiet interrupted only by heavy breathing, Ava speaks. <<ava>>"I am so sorry for getting us into this trouble."<</ava>> [[Accept her apology, but assure her it's not her fault.|avafuck5a]] [[Tell her to take heart, inspire her. It's not done yet.|avafuck5i]] [[Tell her you're horny.|avafuck5h]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> <<ava>>"Oh no," she says, her voice laden with disappointment and concern. "Try to resist it! It's merely an aphrodisiac, it will surely wear off. Don't let them win, alright, $name?"<</ava>> She tries to sound encouraging, but it's clear in the tremble of her voice that she's likewise suffering from that need. It's not exactly the most fortifying thought to know your fellow captive is in such a way, and Ava mumbles nervously. ''Giving in has reduced your ability to resist influences. Your Willpower has decreased!'' [[Continue.|avafuck6]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> Best as can while trying not to imagine yourself fucking Ava's brains out and slamming your balls against her ass while nutting into her cunt, you give an inspiring speech. You have heard your commanding officers give rousing rallying cries dozens of times. Sometimes they even worked to rile the troops. Other times it was just a decent distraction from the threat of death. Against this threat of captivity and sex, it is a little harder to muster the right words, but you seem to do well enough. <<ava>>"M-my, $name. Nothing keeps you down, huh? That's a very admirable trait in a man. You're right. It's not done! There is still a chance for us!"<</ava>> [[Continue.|avafuck6]] You accept her apology but let her know it's not needed. The two of you planned, worked, and got caught together. It was merely poor judgment to allow yourselves to be wrapped up in the bacchanalia. <<ava>>"It is kind of you to say, but still my heart is heavy with shame. Let us try our best to think of a way to get out of this."<</ava>> [[Continue.|avafuck6]] It is late into the night, when the drugs enter their full swing. Unable to relieve yourselves, Ava and you both fitfully moan into the silence. The feeling is feverish, dizzying. The room spins with distracting, all encompassing desire for pleasure. It feels like if you don't get off, if you don't reach down and jerk your dick to an orgasm, you'll die. You salivate at the very imagined feeling of simply touching yourself. The sensation that you'll ejaculate instantly hits you, and it's hardly a bad thing. Your entire body is poised to cum, tensing and ready to do so. Looking down at yourself occasionally you get a vague notion that your penis is larger. It's quite possible the excessive arousal is causing it, but its not an insignificant increase. The wordless suffering you're enduring is interrupted by a cadre of bunny girls flooding your cell, and Ava's too from what you can tell. Trying the bonds to escape and run away doesn't occur to you. However, you put all your power into breaking your chains so you can pin down one of these bunnies and knock them up. You're practically frothing at the mouth, any higher function evaporating and dedicating its powers toward accessing those exposed, on-display holes the bunnies are teasing you with. The several buns in the room giggle and tease you, bending over and presenting themselves just out of range of your form. Some paint you with, something. It's hardly important. The cool touch of paint on your bare skin is centered mostly around your lower abdomen, around the belly button. The intricate patterns they apply to you hardly register. What has your entire attention is the bun double-fisting your cock. With both of her small hands she wraps your dick in her grip and strokes. You've done nothing but twitch and leak, the pre cum flowing from you in excessive globs of clear-colored excitement. She coos and mutters sensual nothings to you. The words themselves hardly have meaning, but her tone and look tell you it all. She's torturing you, licking clean your dick and sucking the head. But where was that instant orgasm? You clench your hands, white-knuckling and thrashing in depraved passion but it just doesn't arrive. It's an eternal, drawn out, time dilated edge. <<generic>>"Don't worry, she's getting it bad as you are." Her voice is soft and serene, youthful and chipper.<</generic>> Who? Oh! Ava! Ava, Ava's pussy. Fucking Ava. Breeding Ava. Your hips buck hard up at her hands, but she slackens her grip so you can't take advantage of it. Through the blur of your dazed vision a tawny bun approaches. She presents her fingers, slick and wet with what is obviously pussy juice. ''Your ability to resist influence has degraded. Your Willpower has decreased!'' <<generic>>"Oh yeah. She's down bad alright. I mentioned your name and she started trying to fuck herself on my fingers." The tawny rabbit's smugness bleeds into her hoarse voice, recognizable as a taunt even in your addled state.<</generic>> You let her know exactly what you're going to do to her throat and ass the very second you get free of these chains. She merely chuckles and opens her mouth wide, letting you see her slick and waiting maw. <<generic>>With a slap to her ass, she adds, "Be nice. You two are almost ready for your breaking. We'll take you to see Ava, alone, unbound, in just a little bit okay?"<</generic>> [[Continue.|avafuck7]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> Hours, or perhaps days pass. You can't be sure. You are sure of nothing but the sweat of brow, and the pulsing, throbbing veins in your cock keeping you hard and desperate. The bunnies tease each portion of your body, running their tongues across you, kissing, touching and stimulating all of you. When they bring you to your feet, you're locked tight in a rope harness that keeps your arms bound. You hardly notice. What you do notice is the drips on the floor leading forward from Ava. They carried her away first somewhere deeper in. You've entered an almost primal state, a feral need to release your semen in a fertile female compelling you to obey those that would make it happen. The bunnies say something, who cares. You're focused. ''Your ability to resist influence has degraded to animalistic levels. Your Willpower has decreased!'' Where you are hardly matters. It's a room, and people are around you. But in the middle, is Ava. She's been put on her back, and a falconry hood blinds her. The twitch of her hood and feathers when she hears you approach causes her to spread her legs, holding them up with her hands. <<ava>>"$name? Is that you?"<</ava>> You feel the ropes slip from your arms, and you don't reply. You leap atop her. The collision of your form to hers makes her shake, of course, but moan too. The slide of your hot, throbbing cock, to her teased nethers makes her hiss and dig her talons into herself. <<ava>>"Fuck me for fuck's sake, please! Breed me! Right this—"<</ava>> Right that instant you nudge her beak aside, pushing her head down. You kiss and lick and bite at her neck, growling with an expression of your determination to do just that. Without needing your hands or guidance you thrust up, thrust in, and begin fucking. Your member finds the sweet spot easily. Ava feels molten hot. Almost too warm, and it dawns on you just how cold being outside her was. You'd been enduring the icy chill of not having her warm, loving pussy on your cock this entire time. Unfortunately, any potential passion or romance is impossible when succumbing to your beastial urges. Your hindbrain moves your hips, all with the intent of pumping seed into her womb and making new life. She, likewise, does nothing but rock herself to better support your breeding. Her words fettered by moans and devolving until she is singing a whorish bird song of lust. [[Continue.|avafuck8]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> It doesn't cross your mind that a human can't impregnate a crane. All you think of is getting your nut and implanting offspring in her. Your first orgasm is quick, ejaculating deeply and unprotected into an Ava who has already been squirting across your cock several times. How could she not? Your prick has been heightened to the peak of human masculinity. The affliction of their drugs and spells has warped both you and Ava into the picture perfect breeder and bearer. But you can't really think much about how tight and strong your muscles feel. Or how much deeper you are reaching into her, or even how much larger her breasts are. You just know you need to cum, again. The onlookers were astounded, pleasantly. After all, they just witnessed a man who very much did not want to be captured succumb to Svethra's will. You didn't even notice your possessions freely accessible on the sides of the bed, did you? To your right, your blade and armor sit ready to be taken up. And to the left, Ava's robes and her dagger. A free chance to have cut your way to freedom ''Your ability to resist influence has degraded to animalistic levels. Your Willpower has decreased!'' But you needed to ejaculate into her. And she needed to feel you pump her full of hot, thick seed. The world fades around the two of you as you join in debauched matrimony, devoting yourselves and energy merely to chasing the high of orgasm and the propegation of life. Hours melt to weeks to months... Ava becomes heavier with her pregnancy with each day. Her breasts lactate freely, and you have to help her stay steady if you fuck her anyway but on her back. But the two of you hardly mind. The motion of her egg-carrying form brings you great joy when you dive your rod into her. This conjoined copulating the only form of expression or self-determination either of you want, or can, produce. Tongue-twined, sweat and pleasure-wet, moaning sex fills your days. Your personality and ego are lost to the id, turned over to the higher power that has wrapped its tainted roots around your persona and devolved the both of you into little more than beasts in rut. Your lives are spent now in celebration of each other, and of pleasure. The matters of the outside world reach you not, your entire scope is shrunk down to the shared bedroom. Ava gives birth to many clutches of eggs. The sight of her warped and over-feminized form laying her eggs fills you with a depraved sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. And a fresh need to knock a new set into her. The Bunnymasks keep the both of you as prime examples of what their cult offers. The end goal of every reveler, to sink the entire world into bacchanalia. <h3 style="color:pink;">Ending D: Lost to the revelry.</h3> [[Credits.]] <<set $playerWill -= 1>> If you enjoyed this project you can explore my other games, or support me at <a href="https://patreon.com/CaretakerPublishing">patreon.com/CaretakerPublishing.</a> Other titles: <a href="https://www.av.caretakerpublishing.com/"><img src="images/avtitle.png" alt="Altered Vision Link" style="width:250px;height:45px;"></a> [[Play again?|cleanslate]] The slate is wiped clean! [[Begin again.|classselect]] <<set $playerStr = 5>> <<set $playerDex = 5>> <<set $playerCon = 5>> <<set $playerCha =5>> <<set $playerWill = 5>> <<set $playerCoins = 0>> <<set $virgin = true>> Baratier turns his head to you, rolling a coin across his fingers. <<set $baratierLink = 'baratier' + $baratierStage>>\ <<link 'Ask about some work.' $baratierLink>><</link>> [[Ask him some questions.|baratiertalkmenu]] [[Leave him be.|tavern]]<<if $prostitute is true>> [[Mention your work at the High Tail.|baraprost]] <</if>> [[Where are you from?|baraorigin]] [[Are you a fighter or a talker?|barapers]] [[What do you know about Madame Ji?|baraji]] <<if $bunnyStage > 0>>\ [[Do you know anything about the bunnymasks?|barabun]] <</if>>\ <<if $baragoalask is false>>\ [[What is your goal here?|baragoal]] <</if>> [[Enough questions.|baratiermenu]]<<bara>>"In Tappahannock? Same as my goals anywhere else, the acquisition of wealth and power to my person and the proliferation of that loot among those that serve me. Yourself included."<</bara>> He inhales audibly and reflects on the glimmer of his gemstone rings for a moment. <<bara>>"Tappahannock is ripe for dominion. Its position as a neutral, racially dissevered territory makes it a prime target for individuals like myself."<</bara>> <<bara>>"Do you fancy yourself one of them? Someone powerful enough to seize control?"<</bara>> [[Yes. You could snatch command of a kingdom and make it your own, given the chance.|superego]] [[Yes. The thought of controlling the fates of so many gives you great pleasure.|ego]] [[No. You have no desire for such grandiose things.|humble]] [[If you did, you wouldn't tell him.|smart]] <<set $baragoalask to true>><<bara>>"How would you like plying that skill on my behalf instead of the Madame's?"<</bara>> Baratier's lusty smirk makes your head a little fuzzy. <<if $gaveBJ is true>>Your tongue suddenly tastes like semen, and your mind flashes with the hazy visuals of giving the reptile a blowjob.<</if>> <<bara>>"No need to answer for certain just yet. Give it some time."<</bara>> [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]] This question gives him pause for a second. And he thinks about it far longer than you would expect. <<bara>>"From deep within the earth, like many of my kin."<</bara>> You suppose lizardkin do burrow sometimes, don't they? [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]] <<bara>>"One can be both can't they? I've done my fair share of bloodletting. And now I have others act as my hands. Like yourself, $name."<</bara>> <<bara>>He rattles his claws to the table. "And what about you then? Do you fancy yourself a wielder of the pen more than the sword?<<if $class is "fighter">>If you don't mind me saying, I feel as though your vocation speaks for itself.<</if>><<if $class is "wizard">>Surely a scholar feels more at home with a quill in his hand?<</if>>"<</bara>> [[You use your tongue when you can, not everything has to come to blows.|baratiertalkmenu]] [[Hard, fast and concise action is the best way forward. That usually means violence.|baratiertalkmenu]]<<bara>>He takes a moment to get his story straight, looking past your shoulder to the middle distance. "I know she is a tough nut to crack. I also know whatever fancy story she says about her homeland changes."<</bara>> You prod him for a little more. <<bara>>"I admire her work ethic and craftiness," he says with a firm and resolute tone. "But there is room only for me in this city."<</bara>> [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]] <<bara>>"The what? I'm sorry I am not familiar."<</bara>> [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]] His eyes flash a second and then simmer off. <<bara>>"Ambition is a useful trait."<</bara>> The sudden and abrupt display of emotion in his eyes had little clarity to it. Is he pleased at your answer? Does he dislike competition? [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]] He cuts short his own cackle with a shake of his head. <<bara>>"I will need to introduce you to Helarui for certain."<</bara>> [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]]<<bara>>"There is no harm in knowing one's limits." <</bara>> There is a smug lilt to his voice that illustrates he sees himself as above you. [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]]<<bara>>He snorts a little laugh. "Smart."<</bara>> [[Continue.|baratiertalkmenu]]<<generic>>"We are worshippers of Svethra. A great snake deity. A goddess of fertility. Bounty. Wine. And poison."<</generic>> You ask where Svethra originates. <<generic>>"They are a goddess from the distant south. Her virtues align exactly with those of hares and rabbits, and we number proudly among her most common worshippers."<</generic>> [[Continue.|bunnymask2-ask]] She whispers a few words of appreciation and prompts you to disrobe yourself. You'd not donned your full kit to flee, and removing what little you tossed on for modesty is easy. Ava leans back, spreading her legs and parting her kimono entirely, allowing you the full and wonderful appreciation of her elegant avian form. Her lissome body carries with it a painterly regalness as she displays herself erotically. Leaned to her side, with the folds and soft silk of her robe drawing the eye to her now revealed intimate parts. She lifts a leg, and with her talons, covers her pussy. However, she spreads her asshole, giving you a peek at the delicately pink and tight back passage. <<ava>>"Do you mind if we indulge in a preference of mine?"<</ava>> After the debauchery of the day, this is such a tame request it hardly registers. You find yourself stiff as stone before you've even laid a touch to her. Kissing, with her long and pointed beak, is out of the question. But, she does nip your shoulder. You return in kind with the cupping of her neck and smooching of her head and shoulders, descending downward. You drape your body over her own, aiming your penis for her ass, probing it and finding it slickened with the arousal from her obfuscated cunt. She toys with her snatch slightly, rubbing it with one hand while the other digs its digits into your back to draw you in. First entry has you both gasping deeply, and exhaling a mutual lust, and exchanging a hazy-eyed stare. You push into Ava, finding her almost woefully tight. With a bit of effort, and the continued work of the both of you, she relaxes herself such you are plunging in and out of her without struggle. Despite the difficulty in entering, Ava shows no signs of pain. Quite to the contrary, her face and voice act out the pleasures your domination of her ass is bringing her. As constricting as her ass is around your cock, it seems you are equally as fulfilling and thick. Neither of you can last long, sharing this brief and frenetic passion for just awhile. As she detects your coming orgasm she becomes more focused on her own. She begins fingering herself and grasping your butt to draw you. <<ava>>"I—hah, bet you've never got to shoot your load in an employer's ass as a mercenary," she jokes.<</ava>> You chuff a laugh, interrupted by the tension of pleasure wracking your body. No, you haven't. And most times you'd not want to. This is a rare and excellent exception. To show your appreciation, and make certain the conclusion is fantastic, you hold tight around her in a hug and put every portion of strength and energy you have today into fucking her ass. The sudden and explosive force makes her croak in surprise, nipping at your neck and wincing as her voice trembles with a moan. Against your tummy you feel her hand frantically and erratically continuing to jill herself off. The pleasure from having her ass filled making it harder and harder to do so. With a final and surprisingly melodic moan, Ava cums. The pleasure of feeling her wetness soak your cock, balls, and lower abdomen is matched only by how her ass spasms and milks your dick. Pleased with her pleasure, wishing for your own, and unable to resist the siren grab of her bird butt on your junk, you bust into her. Thrusting out every ounce of your orgasm, until the two of you collapse into a panting pile on the floor of her office. [[Continue.|avamornexit]]<<ava>>"Oh, excuse me. I didn't me to be presumptuous."<</ava>> It is with a bit of awkwardness that she conceals herself again and smiles. She clears her throat, and a stale silence hangs over the two of you as she occupies herself with examining the intricate details of the floor. <<ava>>"It is quite late. Perhaps we should seek our dens for sleep and convalesce after our victory in solitude. Thank you again for your exemplary service."<</ava>> You nod, and with a curt bow, give your good nights. No bird sex. [[Continue.|tapexit]] The two of you must have fallen asleep on the floor, as you wake to her snoozing beside you, nuzzled to your chest. Your neck, back and legs feel stiff and you need a rinse off, but otherwise, you feel splendid. Ava prepares you a strange but filling Eastern breakfast. You're not certain it's your style but it tastes good and it is free. She also allows you to bathe in her facilities, leaving you clean and fed for the rest of your day. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <span class="img1000">[img[setup.img + 'anxiouspigeon.png']]</span> The city center is clustered and disheveled. The remains of whatever city Tappahannock originally was built upon by newcomers, and it could be seen in layers. The clash of masonry, wooden scaffolding, bizarre banners from neighboring kingdoms and plenty of merchants shouting into the wind. Lots of color is present in the form of people's furs, dyed clothes, and products. The air holds a calm, quiet sensation to it. Warmth, but not oppressively hot. It smelled a bit unpleasant, the mixture of animal scents, a cityscape, and the flickers of savory and sweet foods. <<if $class is "fighter">>Distracting enough to make even your unskilled human nose twitch.<</if>> Joining the density of the crowd in being overbearing is the sound. The hoarse croaks of Orcish joins in with the high-pitched and short squeals of the Boar's damnable tongue. There is a half circle of fruit and fresh food sellers that occupy the center during the morning. By noon they're replaced by prepared street food vendors, and those willing to do minor magical tricks, massage your neck, shave your fur. The faces of the crowd are a menageric blur. There is a slim human majority, but given the city's status as a haven and its varied neighbors, there are many others. Orcs, boars, wolves, jackelfins, and lizardkin are just among the most common. You give a look around, pausing and taking stock of what there is to see and do. [[Visit the busy, seedy Tavern half embedded in an alley, The Anxious Pigeon.|tavern]] [[Visit the potion shop, Helarui's Tinctures.|potions]] [[Visit a local farmstead.|beccafarmsintro]] [[Visit the Merchant's Guild.|merchantsguild]] <<set _psg to either( 'rainfallcity', 'wolfgirlapples', 'nothing', 'notmuch', 'beggar', 'coins', 'couriergirl', 'lekomeet', )>>\ <<link 'Give a look around and browse, not searching for anyone or anything in particular.' _psg>><</link>> [[Visit the Anxious Pigeon.|tavern]] [[Visit Helarui's Tinctures.|potions]] [[Visit the local chirurgeon.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] [[Visit the local farmstead.|beccafarmsintro]] [[Visit the Merchant's Guild.|merchantsguild]] <<if $cathBanned is false>> [[Visit the local cathedral.|sommnecath]] <<else>> ''You're banned from the cathedral.'' <</if>> <<if $bottleOpen is true>>\ [[Visit Bottlesip Way.|bottlehub]] <</if>>\ [[Travel east to the nation of Lytria.|roadtoly]] [[Nevermind.|tappahannockhub]] <<if $clarissaStage > 2>>\ <<set $clarissaLink = 'clarissa' + $clarissaStage>>\ <<link 'Look for Clarissa, the courier.' $clarissaLink>><</link>> <</if>>\ <<if $baratierStage > 2>>\ [[Visit Baratier in The Anxious Pigeon.|baratiermenu]] <</if>>\ <<if $avaStage >= 1>>\ [[Visit Ava's office in the merchant's quarter.|avaoffice]] <</if>>\ <<if $bunnyStage >= 1>>\ <<set $bunnyLink = 'bunnymask' + $bunnyStage>>\ <<link 'Visit the Bunnymasks.' $bunnyLink>><</link>> <</if>>\ [[Nevermind.|tappahannockhub]] The interior of the tavern has a pleasingly gentle din of murmuring, glass clinking, coins, and cards. The murky and smoky air is harder to cut through than the crowds outside, and likewise, the place is packed. Without a hint of music, the background sounds become the dozens of conversations being held. All of which buzz in your ears. The design of the tavern is quite dark. The woods all of a dark and rich brown. What few windows the building possessed are cloaked with tobacco stained beige drapes. The light of the place was provided by a scant few lanterns, the light from which the umber furniture seemed to absorb and wick away. The air is thick with the nose-crinkling scent of tobacco being burnt, barely winning out against the rancid smell of cheap ale and dirt. <<if $class is "wizard">>There was a confusing myriad of scents to say the least.<</if>> There is the bartender and barmaid. A gruff man with hair everywhere but the top of his head, and an apron messy with stains. Supporting him is a caprine woman with breasts larger than your head that catch your eye on sheer size alone.<<if $class is "wizard">>You catch the scent of the surly bartender on the barmaid, the hint of human persperation and sexual expenditure, and likewise, her on him. Not too surprising, if they work together.<</if>> Among the more interesting patrons is a Lizardkin with an unusual amount of gaudy jewelry. He exhibits a striking blend of either remarkable self-assurance or blundering naivety, donning such an abundance of wealth in a setting like this. Of special note is the set of wings tucked on his back. Occasionally he flexes them, shrouding his shoulders and sides with them almost like a bat. A rare trait for his kind. He has a corner all to himself, almost hidden away. Prime real estate in a place like this. Around a cluster of three tables dragged together you see the faded, yellowed armbands of the Yellow Stripes. <<if $class is "fighter">>It's hard to tell at a distance if you could recognize any of them. Whether saying hello to them would be a good idea is dubious.<</if>> Aside from those, the bar is otherwise filled with all sorts of drifters, losers, cutthroats, mercenaries, ne'er-do-wells and ruffians. All lamented that the tavern wasn't a geometrically impossible shape that allowed each darkly clad individual their own corner. As such, many have to share tables and socialize with each other. [[Return.|tavern]] The potion of Altered Vision. The liquid inside is still with small bubbled air pockets frozen within the blue and jelly-like fluid. A static swirl of purple streaks up in a corkscrew around the material. A bit of parchment tied to the wax-sealed cork reads, 'Potion of Altered Vision - imbibe and absorb the world unimpeded by the concealment of garments. Uncover your friends and neighbors' closest-held details. Reveal all that is secret!' It costs 25 gold. <<genericw>>"Curious about that brew?"<</genericw>> You nod, wondering if it's a joke or not. <<genericw>>"No, but its effect is quite short and quite limited. One might say it's something like a novelty potion. Made for a bit of cheeky fun more than anything else."<</genericw>> You ask if it would allow you to see her nude. By her laugh, you get your answer, but she elaborates. <<genericw>>"I only reveal myself to those I find worthy. Sorry to spoil the surprise, but anyone with even a basic ward would be immune to these effects. Myself included."<</genericw>> You ask her what you see if there is a ward. <<genericw>>"I suppose you'll need to buy it and find out."<</genericw>> <<if $playerCoins < 24>> You can't afford it. <<else>> [[Buy it.|purchasedpotion2e]] <</if>> [[Keep browsing.|helaruiitems]] Helarui happily takes your coin. <<if $virgin is true>> [[Drink the potion.|avpotv]] <<else>> [[Drink the potion.|avpotnv]] <</if>> You notice Helarui is also stocking scent cloaks. Herbal mixtures ground into a salve meant to be rubbed into one’s clothing and skin. It masks an individual person’s unique scent with a neutralizing mask. It also nullifies one's own sense of smell. They cost 10 gold. <<genericw>>"It will keep you hard to detect, and it'll make sure you don't smell a thing."<</genericw>> <<if $playerCoins < 10>> You can't afford it. <<else>> [[Purchase the scent cloak.|purchasedcloake]] <</if>> [[Keep browsing.|helaruiitems]] In particular among the many glittering baubles and potions you notice a swirling purple liquid constantly in motion. The bottle it's held in, a squat onion dome shape with diagonal engravings, helps promote this sense of wispy motion. By the tag, you read its a Potion of Lucidity. It costs 25 gold. <<genericw>>"That will keep you sharp and thinking clear. The added benefit is, you'd be able to rebuff anyone attempting to sway your thoughts."<</genericw>> <<if $playerCoins < 24>> You can't afford it. <<else>> [[Buy it.|purchasedpotione]] <</if>> [[Keep browsing.|helaruiitems]] You make the purchase, and uncork it. The scent is somewhat offputting. It has a certain 'ick' feeling to it, but not a food disgust. More like personal disgust. It is the smell of social anxiety. <<genericw>>"You'll only have a few moments with it. I recommend you go to the city square if you really want to see some women."<</genericw>> With a nod and a hasty necking of the potion, you dash off. From Helarui's potions, you take a turn onto the main road, and look out upon the crowd. It's strange, fuzzy. It looks as though the center of your vision, what you were most focused on, could turn clothing to a translucent sheet of fabric. The exposed bodies of those all around you, at least a portion of them, flash before you as you wildly look around. It's with a bit of confusion and mild discomfort that you find every female attribute nothing but a blurry black cloud. Like an ink splotch on canvas, a wiggling and ebony blotch obscures their breasts. Their pussies. Their asses! It makes no distinguishment for male organs though, letting your eyes drift between the legs of a particularly onery-looking bear, and his flaccid member. But the skinny sheep girl beside him had a dark cloud about her nethers, obscuring all detail. You feel Helarui's presence beside you, and baring your teeth you look at her with anger. <<genericw>>"Feeling cheated? Are you inexperienced by way of the bedroom?"<</genericw>> How could she know? <<genericw>>"Well, those who are unspoiled have their sensitive eyes protected from the potion's effects. If you had made yourself a man before buying it, you'd be getting your fill of every feminine detail."<</genericw>> Asking for a refund just has Helarui laughing in your face and returning inside. With a final look out to the city square, the effect of the potion fades, and your vision becomes unaltered. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] You make the purchase, and uncork it. The scent is somewhat offputting. It has a certain 'ick' feeling to it, but not a food disgust. More like personal disgust. It was the smell of social anxiety. <<genericw>>"You'll only have a few moments with it. I recommend you go to the city square if you really want to see some women."<</genericw>> With a nod and a hasty necking of the potion, you dash off. From Helarui's potions, you take a turn onto the main road, and look out upon the crowd. It's strange, fuzzy. It looks as though the center of your vision, what you were most focused on, could turn clothing to a translucent sheet of fabric. The exposed bodies of those all around you, at least a portion of them, flash before you as you wildly look around. A sort of juvenile joy comes over you as you take in all the exclusive details of the men and women around you. Seeing them all exposed is almost more comedic than arousing, peeping on passersby as they go about their day. As expected, many of those you see aren't exactly worth seeing. Average bodies, nothing to write home about. Here and there though, some real gems stand out. Whether it be with their immense beauty and voluptuous forms, or with their humorously grody bodies. Chuckling to yourself in dirty delight, you feel your cheeks a bit sore with the childish smile plastered on them. After a few minutes, the potion's effects fade, and once again your eyes see normally. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] The group of mercenaries invites you over for drinks, and against your better judgment, you consider it. Throwing back shots with a rowdy group of up-jumped brigands sounds like a good way to get your coin purse snatched or worse. Among them you see a human man with chipped blue war paint glowering at you. His severe face isn't exactly inviting. Beside him, a snarling hyena beside him spits at the ground and cackles, she certainly seems like the life of the party. An orc among them sports hair streaked with grey, but he looks quite young. You could turn away now... [[Have a good time with them.|ywgangbang]] [[Ignore them.|tavern]] As you approach, a few introduce themselves. A hyena girl wraps an arm around your shoulder, dragging you closer to the long table of mercenaries. "I am Sable," she snickers into your ear. <<generic>>The paint-struck man nods and raises his mug as a hello. "Caleb."<</generic>> "And who is yous?" A snickery cackle follows her beer-breathed question. The shake of her laugh is enough to shiver your fur. You introduce yourself while trying to keep away from Sable. <<generic>>"$name? Welcome then, care for a drink with the fearsome Yellow Stripes?" An orc asks. "I am Gilmar. The beauty of the ball there is Sable."<</generic>> Sable snickers and gekkers yet again, breaking into a half-slurred song in your ear. <<generic>>"Her war cry," Gilmar said with a roll of his eyes. "Come, grab a mug. Ye can't sit until you've knocked back at least two mugs."<</generic>> He snatches a beer horn and twists the spigot of the miniature cask on the table, filling the horn with a pleasing, hissing slosh of beer. You inhale, drain the thing in nearly one gulp, and exhale, sputtering. A laugh-heavy cheering and clapping comes from the men. <<generic>>"Another!"<</generic>> Reeling from the first, and already up to the gills, you aren't too sure. But, despite your general social awkwardness, you find yourself caught up in the bawdy energy of the men, and their cheers urge you onto another. Knocking the beer horn back, you feel the suds drain past your lips and to your chin. This time, when the horn lowers, you find yourself in possession of a lovely buzz and a new urge to join the cheering. Melding with the Yellow Stripes is easy enough, especially with some social lubricant. You find yourself amazed that the grandiose posturing you employ is met with approval and return fire. None dare question your prowess, too used to unneeded brawls, but they most certainly try to one-up you. Gilmar apparently beheaded a bear with a blunt garotte. Sable killed the general of Galendoria in a one-on-one duel. No matter that he is still alive, so far as you know. Caleb, a blue-paint dashed human, butts in with a yarn of singlehandedly dispatching a scouting party after being caught out for a piss. Strangely enough, Caleb's story gets what you can only perceive as earnest reverence. Drinks are downed, pipes smoked, piebald jokes told, and laughter had until you feel your throat sore from the efforts. It comes as no surprise to see the sun had faded. Gilmar invites you to join them for a bit of food and refreshments at their barracks in town. [[... but first you take a stop in the alley, lots of drink has led to the call of nature.|ywgbpiss]] [[... but the mercenaries stop suddenly, and a wicked, lewd energy falls on them.|ywgbbj]] Gilmar takes the lead, but behind you the snicker of Sable tickles your ears. The scuff of Caleb's feet and a few other men too join the soundscape. <<generic>>"Is bad luck to piss on the wall of the bar who's beer ya drank," Gilmar grumbles, stopping.<</generic>> <<genericw>>"How come?"<</genericw>> <<generic>>"Runs off into the kegs in their storeroom, fool. Ends up what you drink next time."<</generic>> <<generic>>"Guess you'll have to piss next door."<</generic>> "Nah! Hyehehehe! We have a toilet right here. A urinal even, nyehehehe!" Sable grasps your neck and shoulders in a quick and 'playful' headlock. It feels like a dormmate at academy asserting dominance over you. Drunk as you, and the others, are, you struggle. The playfulness was quickly evaporating as Sable's joke began to take shape in reality. She grabs ahold of your arms, locking them with hers and knocking your paws out from under you with a kick to your the back of your knees. The knock of stone to your knees punctuates the half blurry sight of Gilmar removing his cock from his trousers. The double vision duplicated every sordid detail of his green, thickened prick. His dick was nothing to admire visually, but he maintained the orcish stereotype of having sizeable members. His dick was bumpy and warty, with a furtive bush of tangled black hair along the base of the shaft. The pubic hair threatening to smother you with the dense scent of masculinity hardly made him more inviting. But your thrashing and discomfort was silenced by a knee to the spine from Sable. <<generic>>"Hush now, $name -toilet, nyeheheh! It'll just taste like ale, fyehehehuh."<</generic>> <<generic>>"Open up, or it'll be bad luck for you," Gilmar said with a sluggish smirk, made sly by his drunkenness moreso than with purpose.<</generic>> Caleb makes sure his friend doesn't need to burden himself, holding your nose open with a hook of his fingers. Digging into your nostrils, you feel your throat opened up by force, exposing your tongue and lower jaw to serve as a urinal for the foul orcish cock. You hear his sigh of relief before you feel the hot, acrid, salty urine. It's densely yellow, and just like Sable suggested, held with it a wispy scent of beer. That didn't make the bitter pill any easier to swallow. The yellow fluid quickly begins to pool around your tongue and teeth, soaking your entire tastebuds in the saltiness. However, it isn't the salt of semen or precum that pervades Gilmar's piss. It's heavy and moisture-draining like gulping seawater. Your throat convulses and tries to reject it, forced to swallow in order to breath. And in order to spare your chest from acting as a drip tray. With a final shake and wipe off of his dick tip to your cheek, Gilmar is done. Leaving you dazed, dizzy, and with a nose prickling with ammonia. But your trial isn't done. Sable digs her knee in deeper, and Caleb releases your nostrils. He needs to go next. The stare-down he gives makes your fur stand on end, for some reason, his tall tales of brutality come back to mind as you regard the fading blue paint on his drunk-red face. With your tongue not knowing if it should rear back or lay flat, you open your mouth gingerly. The ammonia still hanging in the air from the now satisfied-looking Gilmar. Caleb fished out his prick, and much like you'd expect from a mercenary on the road, it was a bit heavy on the scented side. The potency of human pheromones couldn't be understated, and when combined with the gratuity of it all, you feel your panties strained by your stiffening dick. Caleb, mercifully, is only as bad as Gilmar and not worse. But you have just enough time to be horrified by the line forming. As the golden trickle threatens to scour your throat of feeling, the man behind Caleb yanks his prick ready to use the lucky urinal. <<generic>>"There's a lot, eh? Fuhuhuhuhu!"<</generic>> Lucky indeed... Caleb 'misses' your mouth, apologizing but not stopping his stream as he runs it across your chin and chest. The warm streak of urine clings to you, the wafting vapor of the hot liquid evaporating against the cold night catches your eye. The humiliation and defilement comes with a sensation of deep-seated arousal masked only partly by your attempts to pull away. But with Sable holding you close and chuckling, you have to endure all of what Caleb gives you. The grip on your arms doesn't slacken until each one of the Yellow Stripes at the Anxious Pigeon have emptied the beer in their bladder across your muzzle and face. By the end of it, your cheek fur has been patted down with urine. Your chest has been crisscrossed in sprays of yellow, and a small pool has collected between your thighs. [[Continue.|ywgbbj2]] Gilmar takes the lead, but behind you, the snicker of Sable tickles your ears. The scuff of Caleb's feet and a few other men to join the soundscape. <<generic>>"Could go for a nice mouth to warm my prick on this cool night," Gilmar says with a guffaw, heavy with an orcish accent.<</generic>> <<generic>>"We got a cock warmer right here! Hyehehehe! A pretty boy even, nyehehehe!"<</generic>> Sable grasps your neck and shoulders in a quick and 'playful' headlock. It feels like a dormmate at academy asserting dominance over you. Drunkenness hampers your efforts to resist, falling into her grasp more easily than you'd like. The playfulness was quickly evaporating as Sable's joke began to take shape in reality. She grabs ahold of your arms, locking them with hers and knocking your paws out from under you with a kick to your the back of your knees. The knock of stone to your knees punctuates the half-blurry sight of Gilmar removing his cock from his trousers. The double vision duplicated every sordid detail of his green, thickened prick. His dick was nothing to admire visually, but he maintained the orcish stereotype of having sizeable members. His dick was bumpy and warty, with a furtive bush of tangled black hair along the base of the shaft. The pubic hair threatening to smother you with the dense scent of masculinity hardly made him more inviting. But your thrashing and discomfort was silenced by a knee to the spine from Sable. With a few stiff pumps, Gilmar gets himself hard. Not wishing to miss a moment, Caleb and the other men do too. In short order, you're facing down several cocks, the dense scent of masculine arousal overpowering your sense. First to reveal, and now first to fuck, Gilmar steps closer to you. He rubs his green cock across your snout and lips, testing the waters. Resistence ebbs, but you try to put up a good front. Threatening with your teeth would be fruitless, you're on your knees around a handful of hardened mercenaries. You doubt they'd do anything too violent, but the implication tempers your need to resist. He holds tight to your lower jaw to 'ease' your mouth open, and with your inebriated state you feel yourself drooling. Or perhaps it was the potent orcish musk working its magic on your naturally submissive psyche. Blood drains from your brain and stiffens your prick, tenting your panties. Not that Gilmar or the others give much of a fuck. He jams himself forward with a sottish vigor, thrusting his pipe down your gullet to the bush carelessly. You find yourself muffled by his pubes, and your tongue is forced to feel the bumps and grooves of his pulsing sausage. Gilmar grunts and ruts, holding your head down and guiding you there. The scrape of his pre-spitting dick tip to your uvula produces a beer-twinged gag. Sable has nothing except giggles for you, and Gilmar nothing but throaty groans. The feel, and taste, of his dick is nothing short of humiliating. Whatever sanctity your mouth held before has been thoroughly stripped away by the invasion of this thick orcish pole. His hips pump, and his ass tenses, the muscles tightening across his body as he preps to empty his balls into your maw. Thinking nothing of your oxygen-deprived lungs, he rapidly fucks into your mouth until with a final roar, he's jizzing into your mouth. Warm ropes of thick, globby semen make their saline viscosity known across your tongue. It ebbs from the corners of your mouth, and Gilmar gets a final rope across the bridge of your snout. Rapid gasps force you to swallow most of his ballsnot, and before your lungs have even a second to recover, Caleb is getting his balls comfortable on your chin. The plap of his testicles against your jaws holds your attention, somehow cutting through all the other discomfort. You zero in on it, using it to zone out on the gag reflex beckoning and the tingle in your lungs from the need for air. As much as you try to gulp down oxygen through your nose. It's difficult when every other intake has you pressed against a man's skin and drinking in his scent. Caleb busts too, across your chest and nose, sullying your hair and ears with his cum and relishing your new facial. So does the man after, and the man after that. You become dizzy with it, the bulb of your knot swelling eventually as the degradation continues. When the men are satisfied, you find yourself exhausted, and alone with Sable. The others have drifted away, and finally, the hyena lets you go. With a woeful chuckle, she holds up your chin to look at you, not shy of all the cum. <<generic>>"Gehehnyehe. Cute mask on you, all that baby batter!" <</generic>> She collects some with a finger and flicks it back at you. <<generic>>"But you've got one more Yellow Stripe to satisfy..."<</generic>> [[Continue.|ywhyena]] Sable gets up, like walking up to a merchant stall ready to purchase. <<generic>>"Ready, Freddy?"<</generic>> [[... she has an anatomically correct surprise.|ywanatomical]] [[... she flashes her cunt.|ywnormal]] The drawstrings of Sable's pants unfurl, revealing a penis. At least you think it is. It's longer than yours, tubular, and semi-stiff. But there are no testicles, and the slit it particularly large. She strokes her pseudo-penis a few times with two fingers, massaging it to a further erectness. <<generic>>"S'matter, never seen a girl's clit before? Neeeyehehe!"<</generic>> It strikes you then, a distant memory from a foreign anatomy manual. It wasn't the necromantic dissertation you had wanted, but you had flipped through it with the same curiosity. Pages upon pages of odd drawings and details on unusual reproductive organs. One of them being about a distant and matriarchal tribe of hyenas. And how their women's clits were massive, penetrable, penis-like sheaths. And here you had one, dripping down at you. <<generic>>"Go on, lick. Boys like the girls where I am from, to say hey and show them they're nice and submissive. Fuhuhuh."<</generic>> Two more pumps had her adding a bit of cunt fluid to the cum on your face. With a tired tongue, you lean forward, dragging it across her clit-slit, and suckling tentatively. She makes a chirp of pleasure. The taste is strong enough to cut through the lingering semen, a tang immensely dense with feminine flavor. <<generic>>"Suck it, and maybe if you're a good boy I'll let you fuck it."<</generic>> You can't deny the strange feeling that wells in you at the offer. A sort of need to get your rocks off, and a need to muddy your self-worth further by poking your cock into such a phallic cunt. But before you can even consider that, you need to 'eat her out', by giving her clit a blowjob. With your mouth exhausted from its effort, your attempts are sluggish, but she doesn't seem to mind. You get the sense going last is common for her, as Sable is quite into even your frail attempts at supplicating to her. It's erotic, watching a woman hold her shirt up a bit and pump her hips. Her pseudo-penis doesn't get completely stiff, managing only a half-chub no matter how hard you work. That doesn't seem to be a fault of your technique and only adds to the keen joy you get watching her. The thickness of her thighs, scruffy and spotted, speaks to her womanly nature. But yet between her legs hangs that splendidly masculine masquerade. You wonder if she struggles to secure partners with such a member, it surely drives off many. And so Sable finds herself taking her frustrations out on your tongue, miming the men that went before her with the half-humps she does against your chin. No nuts slap your chin, but her laughs begin to be interrupted by moans. With one final stuttering cackle she ejaculates, squirting into your maw and slickening your throat with the tart taste of her yeen-pussy. [[Continue.|tapexityw]] The drawstrings of Sable's pants unfurl, a densely fluffy cunt. The nethers betwixt her legs are foggy with musk. Potent signals about her fertility and arousal flood your psyche, an odd match to the male ones you were just huffing. A ripe stripe of fluff rides up to her belly button. <<generic>>"S'matter, never seen a girl's pussy before? Neeeyehehe!"<</generic>> She spreads her cunt lips, letting you see the slickness spread between her wet labia. The pink and inviting internals call to you on a primal level. <<generic>>"Go on, lick. Boys like the girls where I am from, to say hey and show them they're nice and submissive. Fuhuhuh."<</generic>> Two more rubs had her adding a bit of cunt fluid to the cum on your face. With a tired tongue you lean forward, dragging it across her clit and slot, and suckling tentatively. She makes a chirp of pleasure. The taste is strong enough to cut through the lingering semen, a tang immensely dense with feminine flavor. <<generic>>"Suck it, and maybe if you're a good boy I'll let you fuck it."<</generic>> You can't deny the strange feeling that wells in you at the offer. A sort of need to get your rocks off, and a need to muddy your self-worth further by poking your cock into such an obscene pussy. But before you can even consider that, you need to eat her out. With your mouth exhausted from its effort, your attempts are sluggish, but she doesn't seem to mind. You get the sense going last is common for her, as Sable is quite into even your frail attempts at supplicating to her. It's erotic, watching a woman hold her shirt up a bit and pump her hips. That doesn't seem to be a fault of your technique, and only adds to the keen joy you get watching her. The thickness of her thighs, scruffy and spotted, speaks to her womanly nature. Her motions and breathing speak to a want to emulate her male peers. She's trying to dominate your mouth and face just as her associates had. And so Sable finds herself taking her frustrations out on your tongue, miming the men that went before her with the half-humps she does against your muzzle. No nuts slap your chin, but her laughs begin to be interrupted by moans. With one final stuttering cackle she ejaculates, squirting into your maw and slickening your throat with the tart taste of her yeen-pussy. [[Continue.|tapexityw]] Drenched in fluids of other men and a yeen, you wearily creep back to the Pigeon. Taking pity on you, you're given a free bath and a warm bed indoors. Scrubbing yourself is a long process considering how tired you are, and by the time you get to bed, you fall asleep instantly. [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]]<<generic>>"Could go for a nice mouth to warm my prick on this cool night," Gilmar says with a guffaw, heavy with an orcish accent.<</generic>> <<generic>>"Urinal and cocksucker? Hyehehehe! This pretty boy can handle it, nyehehehe!"<</generic>> Gilmar once again is the first to action. With a few stiff pumps, Gilmar gets himself hard. Not wishing to miss a moment, Caleb and the other men do too. In short order, you're facing down several cocks, the dense scent of masculine arousal overpowering your sense. First to reveal, and now first to fuck, Gilmar steps closer to you. He rubs his green cock across your snout and lips, testing the waters. Resistence ebbs, but you try to put up a good front. Threatening with your teeth would be fruitless, you're on your knees around a handful of hardened mercenaries. You doubt they'd do anything too violent, but the implication tempers your need to resist. He holds tight to your lower jaw to 'ease' your mouth open, and with your inebriated state you feel yourself drooling. Or perhaps it was the potent orcish musk working its magic on your naturally submissive psyche. Blood drains from your brain and stiffens your prick, tenting your panties. Not that Gilmar or the others give much of a fuck. He jams himself forward with a sottish vigor, thrusting his pipe down your gullet to the bush carelessly. You find yourself muffled by his pubes, and your tongue is forced to feel the bumps and grooves of his pulsing sausage. Gilmar grunts and ruts, holding your head down and guiding you there. The scrape of his pre-spitting dick tip to your uvula produces a beer-twinged gag. Sable has nothing except giggles for you, and Gilmar nothing but throaty groans. The feel, and taste, of his dick is nothing short of humiliating. Whatever sanctity your mouth held before has been thoroughly stripped away by the invasion of this thick orcish pole. His hips pump, and his ass tenses, the muscles tightening across his body as he preps to empty his balls into your maw. Thinking nothing of your oxygen-deprived lungs, he rapidly fucks into your mouth until with a final roar, he's jizzing into your mouth. Warm ropes of thick, globby semen make their saline viscosity known across your tongue. It ebbs from the corners of your mouth, and Gilmar gets a final rope across the bridge of your snout. Rapid gasps force you to swallow most of his ballsnot, and before your lungs have even a second to recover, Caleb is getting his balls comfortable on your chin. The plap of his testicles against your jaws holds your attention, somehow cutting through all the other discomfort. You zero in on it, using it to zone out on the gag reflex beckoning and the tingle in your lungs from the need for air. As much as you try to gulp down oxygen through your nose. It's difficult when every other intake has you pressed against a man's skin and drinking in his scent. Caleb busts too, across your chest and nose, sullying your hair and ears with his cum and relishing your new facial. So does the man after, and the man after that. You become dizzy with it, the bulb of your knot swelling eventually as the degradation continues. When the men are satisfied, you find yourself exhausted, and alone with Sable. The others have drifted away, and finally, the hyena lets you go. With a woeful chuckle, she holds up your chin to look at you, not shy of all the cum. <<if $prostitution is true>>As they leave you there, covered in cum and piss. You struggle to stand, one thought stands out as you finally get your paws under you. The least they could have done was leave a few coins for your trouble...<</if>> <<generic>>"Gehehnyehe. Cute mask on you, all that baby batter!" <</generic>> She collects some with a finger and flicks it back at you. <<generic>>"But you've got one more Yellow Stripe to satisfy..."<</generic>> [[Continue.|ywhyena]] <<if $surgeonvisit is false>>\ You arrive at the chirurgeon's not certain what to expect. The scent of chemicals and alcohol is stiff in the air, clinging to everything. It's a very sterile scent, but hardly offensive. The walls are lined with charts and drafts of the internal workings of many anthros and creatures. What lay under the skin, betwixt bone, how the humors were held in balance to animate the living. A shelf filled with pickled organs, heads, and limbs catches your eye. A skull looks back at you and you can't place if it's a wolf or dog's. <<generic>>"Greetings, traveler. What may I do for you?"<</generic>> A pleasant voice comes from behind, and you spin to face a curious bat. Her ears are tall and attentive, and her upturned snout holds a set of half-moon glasses. Across her body is an apron of white linen thickened with blood and viscera. Heavy gloves cover her hands, which she begins peeling off. You introduce yourself, and ask after her name. <<generic>>"I am Acantha, this is my practice. I am the resident chirurgeon and homeopath. Are you ill?"<</generic>> You are fine, but you did want to see what services are available. <<generic>>"For the healthy, I have preventative measures. For the sick I have cures. Come, let me divest myself of these blood-stained adornments so that we may speak."<</generic>> Her affect comes with it a slight learned drawl, instilling a bit of confidence in you. She beckons you over to an office, in which she disposes of her apron and gloves into a laundry bin. <<generic>>"My assistant Bertrand will bring those to the washerwoman soon enough. Chipper lad that one is, though possessing the mercurial disposition that effects many of his kind. Squirrels are not known for their stability."<</generic>> You ask her if she's just performed a surgery. <<generic>>"Oh no, newcomer. An autopsy. The city watch wanted to know if there were any signs of poison. The specter of foul play loomed over the victim, and duty compelled them to seek out answers to their persistent nagging hunches. Thusly, they employed my services."<</generic>> You don't say it, but you think she talks a bit more than she really needs to. Curiosity makes you probe more, asking what the results are. <<generic>>"Doctor and patient confidentiality I am afraid. The circumstances of the late gentleman's demise lay between me and the city watch alone. Ahem, now then, let's see what we can do for you."<</generic>> She sits behind her desk and shuffles some papers, finding a quill and looking to you past her glasses. <<generic>>"I could give you a medical exam. Or, I could draw some of your blood. This blood is used in cures and healing, and you will be compensated for it."<</generic>> [[Get medical exam.|medexam]] [[Get blood drawn.|medblood]] [[Ask about her.|medask]] [[Leave her for now.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $surgeonvisit to true>>\ <<else>> <<generic>>"Welcome back, $name. What ails you?"<</generic>> [[Get medical exam.|medexam]] [[Get blood drawn.|medblood]] [[Ask about her.|medask]] [[Leave her for now.|tappahannockhub]] <</if>><<if $class is "fighter">>\ "Alright, Mister Skin-Man, I'll need you down to your underwear for a full and proper medical exam." You ask if that is strictly needed, but she's already turned her back to collect her many instruments and whatever the hell she felt needed for this procedure. Divesting yourself of your armor is easy enough, but it does come with a little grumble. This is what you get for being the weirdo who lugs their kit around with them constantly. Once down to a tunic and hose, you remove that too, leaving only the scant bit of cloth to retain your modesty. "Well, look at you!" She makes grabby hands at you, motioning for you to stay standing. "Arms outstretched if you'd please." The sounds of academic glee Acantha produces begin in earnest as she lays her hands on you. Her searching little claws tap and prod at the developed muscle of your back, shoulders and arms. Tickling little traces of your muscle striations. She spends plenty of time admiring the appearance of your back, long enough you wonder a bit over what exactly she was doing. Eventually, the bat comes around your front, massaging your abs with her claws. "You have a splendidly healthy and robust form. I see scars here, along the side of your belly. What did this?" [[A spear.|medspear]] [[A bear in a bar brawl.|medbear]] [[Friendly fire.|medfire]] <</if>>\ <<if $class is "wizard">>\ "Alright, Mister Wizard, I'll need you down to your underwear for a full and proper medical exam." You ask if that is strictly needed, but she's already turned her back to collect her many instruments and whatever the hell she felt needed for this procedure. Divesting yourself of your robe is easy enough, but it does come with a little grumble. Removing your silks to reveal the supple fur beneath is hardly what you expected. Once down to a tunic and hose, you remove that too, leaving only the panties to retain your modesty. "I am sure you wear those for comfort rather than for style. But may I say, to the eye untrained in matters of fashion, they fit well with your form." You thank her for her compliments, begrudgingly. But you insist that the exam begin, rather before any more color commentary of your garb begins. "But of course. Let us begin with your measurements shall we?" With a flick, she unfurls a measuring tape. Quick as a whip, she takes your height, wingspan, and the vital trio. Bust, hips, and waist. "More expansive than I expected! Perhaps more fitting for a vixen than yourself. But that aside, let's see here." She flips open your panties, and with the measure pinched between two fingers. "Why, this sheath is woefully under average for your kind." A guilty and suppressed sort of arousal begins to well in you, pooling like rain to a barrel. With each little frown and 'hmph' she pushes your small lipstick further from its tube. "Well, there go my hopes for it being a grower rather than a shower. I weep for your sexual liaisons. Speaking of, are you sexually active?" <<if $virgin is true>> You shiftily try to dodge the question, asking if it's relevant information. "No, it is. It's not a surprise at all, I am afraid. This is a lackluster example of a vulpine member." [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <</if>> <<if $virgin is false>> You tell her you've been around. "There is no need to lie to your physician, it only makes it more difficult to administer aid." Refraining from grumbling is a hard task with such a comment. [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <</if>> <</if>><<generic>>"Well, what is there to know? I studied under the excellent Vellard the Butcher of Peat's Grove. Oh, don't take the name too harshly. He earned it by killing combatants, not patients. What better physician than a man who has split men in half?"<</generic>> Your eyes widen. <<generic>>"After his tutelage, I practice as a journeyman chirurgeon, performing what surgeries I was paid to do. My, one time! Oh, this is good. Now do you know what a doppelganger is?"<</generic>> The beast? The monster? A rare and illusive creature, hated and reviled for its shape-stealing manner. Intelligent, supposedly, but almost entirely animal past its mimicry. <<generic>>"Well, they have eyes that can see past illusions and spellcraft such as that! So a madman, a warlock, paid me to surgically replace an elderly craftsman's eyes with some half-rotten doppelganger eyes. It's okay! The old man had very bad cataracts."<</generic>> You ask if the surgery was effective. <<generic>>"Oh! Of course not, even if the warlock had gotten me fresh eyes, I don't believe I would have been able to sew the cords back properly."<</generic>> <<generic>>She cackles with a riotous slap to her knee. "And so that's how I lost my medical license!"<</generic>> <<generic>>"But enough about me, what of you? What delves into the anatomical have you performed?"<</generic>> <<if $class is "fighter">> You explain your form of medicine is closer to her tutor's than hers. <<generic>>"Worthy in its own right! Also explains the armor and sword. I wouldn't want that pointed at me for sure."<</generic>> <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> You try to delicately explain some past gravedigging but quickly divert away from such nocturnal hobbies. <<generic>>"The dead are an excellent stepping stone on the way to treating the living! Now, it'd be really terrible if you were raising them. My, the very thought of a necromancer as a patient. I would be beside myself."<</generic>> [[Ask her if she has any spare body parts.|medspareparts]] <</if>> [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <<generic>>"Oh, please don't tease. I would adore a blood sample from an individual such as yourself. I assure you, it will go to only the most professional purposes."<</generic>> With undue elation, she springs from her seated position to fetch an almighty syringe. The large object looks like a torture device more than a medicinal implement. A metallic body seemingly made of iron, with a thirsty and thick needlepoint. Atop it the grip for the plunger. <<generic>>"My baby. The culex rex. King sucker."<</generic>> She waves it at you. <<generic>>"Let us wait no longer. You have a date, and she will suck you dry!"<</generic>> <<if $class is "fighter">> Acantha gives a search around for a fittingly exposed blood vessel. Once she's pinned the victim, she sticks you with the plunger. The pain is nothing, but the odd feeling of suction makes you question this procedure. And your own sensations, it dawns on you as the syringe fills with ichor that the sucking could entirely be psychosomatic. <<generic>>"Hurrah! Excellent work. My, you're a good patient. What a strong boy you are," she says in a patronizing but entirely truthful manner. <</generic>> With a petit bandage, she cleans and dresses the small wound. <<generic>>"Bit of hard candy?" She offers a small, apple-shaped bit of sugar. <</generic>> You shake your head, but thank her for the gesture, no matter how infantilizing. She up turns the plunger, and sinks her fang into the end, sucking up a bit of blood. Acantha savors it loudly, the slap of her tongue to the sides of her mouth clicking with each waggle. <<generic>>"Fairly healthy. I am not detecting anything unusual, your blood is of a common constitution, nothing particularly unique. One more sip could hardly hurt."<</generic>> And so she indulges, suckling a bit more down. <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">> Acantha gives a search around for a fittingly exposed blood vessel. Once she's pinned the victim, she sticks you ith the plunger. The pain is nothing, but the odd feeling of suction makes you question this procedure. And your own sensations, it dawns on you as the syringe fills with ichor that the sucking could entirely be psychosomatic. <<generic>>"Hurrah! Excellent work. My, you're a good patient. What a strong boy you are," she says in a patronizing but entirely truthful manner. <</generic>> With a petit bandage, she cleans and dresses the small wound. <<generic>>"Bit of hard candy?" She offers a small, apple-shaped bit of sugar. <</generic>> You shake your head, but thank her for the gesture, no matter how infantilizing. She up turns the plunger, and sinks her fang into the end, sucking up a bit of blood. Acantha savors it loudly, the slap of her tongue to the sides of her mouth clicking with each waggle. <<generic>>"Oh my. Oh my, my, my."<</generic>> She takes another suckle. <<generic>>"Sweet nectar of the vulpine, gah. A refined and eloquent flavor. You have uncommon blood. Are you perhaps a distant relative to someone of noble birth?"<</generic>> Not as far as you know. <<generic>>"Then count yourself lucky for possessing such illusive fluid. Though you detect you blood flows freely, and wounds struggle to mend themselves."<</generic>> You suppose they do, but you couldn't say for certain. The consideration that she is going to drink all blood for a sweet treat crosses your mind. <</if>> <<generic>>"And don't forget your pay," Acantha rattles a small coin purse at you. It can't be more than 15 gold.<</generic>> [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <<set $playerCoins += 15>><<generic>>"Count yourself lucky that a foe had a spear at your abdomen and we're still having a conversation." She gives a final poke and giggle at the spear-strike.<</generic>> <<generic>>"So far you've got a healthy form. Open your mouth now would you?"<</generic>> You do so, leading her to grab your tongue with her claws, the pinch of pain isn't enough to make you retract. You certainly give her a deep and dark scowl. <<generic>>"You have all of your teeth, though misaligned. Your parents were not fond of dentistry were they?"<</generic>> You tell her you have no clue what that is. <<generic>>"Unsurprising!" She wipes the bit of saliva from her claws to your shoulder. "Now for your heartbeat. Hold still."<</generic>> She lays one of her large and impressive ears on your chest, nestling close to it, and practically hugging around your waist. You hear her mumbling a count to herself. <<generic>>"About forty or forty-one, I missed a count there. Either way, that's to be lauded!" She pats your tummy and lingers her hand there.<</generic>> You ask her what she means. <<generic>>"Your heart," she taps your pec. "Like a waterfall, it supplies blood to the rivers of your body. And that blood is delivered to the tributaries of your limbs. Without that vital humor, your bits would decay and fall off. Keep your heart safe, it is the source of all your blood."<</generic>> All you know is that blood is better served inside your body rather than out. But you wonder what that number has to do with your heart. <<generic>>"So true, man. Ahem, well, the heart will thump like a drum to signal new blood is being produced. Believe me, during live vivisections, it sprays everywhere with each da-dum, da-dum." She opens and clenches her hands with a smirk.<</generic>> <<generic>>"Anyway. Fifty or so thumps is often seen in the young and fit. Whereas upwards of eighty is seen among the corpulent and unhealthy. Thusly, you have a healthy heart."<</generic>> You nod, thanking her for her vivid explanation. <<generic>>"Now let's see your cock!"<</generic>> Without further ado, she unveils your shaft before you can grab the bit of cloth from her. <<generic>>"Tada! Well, it's flaccid, but it appears to be of sufficient size. Have you received any complaints?"<</generic>> No. You haven't. <<generic>>"Are you sexually active?"<</generic>> <<if $virgin is true>> You shiftily try to dodge the question, asking if it's truly relevant information. <<generic>>"No, it is. An untrained, inexperienced human's penis. Wow! What a treat."<</generic>> <</if>> <<if $virgin is false>> You tell her you've been around. <<generic>>"As expected of such a specimen, I am sure you are bedding them left and right. Perhaps even center."<</generic>> <</if>> [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <<generic>>"A brawling bar bear behooves better behavior. And perhaps better alliteration on my part." She gives a final poke and giggle at the bear bite.<</generic>> <<generic>>"So far you've got a healthy form. Open your mouth now would you?"<</generic>> You do so, leading her to grab your tongue with her claws, the pinch of pain isn't enough to make you retract. You certainly give her a deep and dark scowl. <<generic>>"You have all of your teeth, though misaligned. Your parents were not fond of dentistry were they?"<</generic>> You tell her you have no clue what that is. <<generic>>"Unsurprising!" She wipes the bit of saliva from her claws to your shoulder. "Now for your heartbeat. Hold still."<</generic>> She lays one of her large and impressive ears on your chest, nestling close to it, and practically hugging around your waist. You hear her mumbling a count to herself. <<generic>>"About forty or forty-one, I missed a count there. Either way, that's to be lauded!" She pats your tummy and lingers her hand there.<</generic>> You ask her what she means. <<generic>>"Your heart," she taps your pec. "Like a waterfall, it supplies blood to the rivers of your body. And that blood is delivered to the tributaries of your limbs. Without that vital humor, your bits would decay and fall off. Keep your heart safe, it is the source of all your blood."<</generic>> All you know is that blood is better served inside your body rather than out. But you wonder what that number has to do with your heart. <<generic>>"So true, man. Ahem, well, the heart will thump like a drum to signal new blood is being produced. Believe me, during live vivisections, it sprays everywhere with each da-dum, da-dum." She opens and clenches her hands with a smirk.<</generic>> <<generic>>"Anyway. Fifty or so thumps is often seen in the young and fit. Whereas upwards of eighty is seen among the corpulent and unhealthy. Thusly, you have a healthy heart."<</generic>> You nod, thanking her for her vivid explanation. <<generic>>"Now let's see your cock!"<</generic>> Without further ado, she unveils your shaft before you can grab the bit of cloth from her. <<generic>>"Tada! Well, it's flaccid, but it appears to be of sufficient size. Have you received any complaints?"<</generic>> No. You haven't. <<generic>>"Are you sexually active?"<</generic>> <<if $virgin is true>> You shiftily try to dodge the question, asking if it's truly relevant information. <<generic>>"No, it is. An untrained, inexperienced human's penis. Wow! What a treat."<</generic>> <</if>> <<if $virgin is false>> You tell her you've been around. <<generic>>"As expected of such a specimen, I am sure you are bedding them left and right. Perhaps even center."<</generic>> <</if>> [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <<generic>>"Friendly fire, an arrow then? My, to have a missile flung by an ally be what strikes and penetrates your armor. I would be livid. Doubly so because I could hardly treat a wound if it were on my own person now could I?" She gives a final poke and giggle at the ancient arrow-dent.<</generic>> <<generic>>"So far you've got a healthy form. Open your mouth now would you?"<</generic>> You do so, leading her to grab your tongue with her claws, the pinch of pain isn't enough to make you retract. You certainly give her a deep and dark scowl. <<generic>>"You have all of your teeth, though misaligned. Your parents were not fond of dentistry were they?"<</generic>> You tell her you have no clue what that is. <<generic>>"Unsurprising!" She wipes the bit of saliva from her claws to your shoulder. "Now for your heartbeat. Hold still."<</generic>> She lays one of her large and impressive ears on your chest, nestling close to it, and practically hugging around your waist. You hear her mumbling a count to herself. <<generic>>"About forty or forty-one, I missed a count there. Either way, that's to be lauded!" She pats your tummy and lingers her hand there.<</generic>> You ask her what she means. <<generic>>"Your heart," she taps your pec. "Like a waterfall, it supplies blood to the rivers of your body. And that blood is delivered to the tributaries of your limbs. Without that vital humor, your bits would decay and fall off. Keep your heart safe, it is the source of all your blood."<</generic>> All you know is that blood is better served inside your body rather than out. But you wonder what that number has to do with your heart. <<generic>>"So true, man. Ahem, well, the heart will thump like a drum to signal new blood is being produced. Believe me, during live vivisections, it sprays everywhere with each da-dum, da-dum." She opens and clenches her hands with a smirk.<</generic>> <<generic>>"Anyway. Fifty or so thumps is often seen in the young and fit. Whereas upwards of eighty is seen among the corpulent and unhealthy. Thusly, you have a healthy heart."<</generic>> You nod, thanking her for her vivid explanation. <<generic>>"Now let's see your cock!"<</generic>> Without further ado, she unveils your shaft before you can grab the bit of cloth from her. <<generic>>"Tada! Well, it's flaccid, but it appears to be of sufficient size. Have you received any complaints?"<</generic>> No. You haven't. <<generic>>"Are you sexually active?"<</generic>> <<if $virgin is true>> You shiftily try to dodge the question, asking if it's truly relevant information. <<generic>>"No, it is. An untrained, inexperienced human's penis. Wow! What a treat."<</generic>> <</if>> <<if $virgin is false>> You tell her you've been around. <<generic>>"As expected of such a specimen, I am sure you are bedding them left and right. Perhaps even center."<</generic>> <</if>> [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <<generic>>"I suppose if you really needed some I could acquire them... for a price?"<</generic>> This bat might be a source for body parts if you ever needed some for a project. [[Continue.|dentistbarbersurgeon]] <<if $cathvisit is false>>\ The cathedral is quiet, there is no service today. The air is thick with the remnants of incense burned. A stuffy smell of burned offerings, oil, and brickwork tickles your nose. The light is dim, and twinged with the stained glass it floods in from. Religion of any kind seems to be far from the minds of Tappahannock's citizens, and the dusty and disorderly manner of the cathedral speaks to that. Pews sit in rows, empty, askew. The lectern at the front likewise has been bumped off center. Your footsteps scuff the worn and threadbare carpet down the middle, and, hearing them, a voice calls to you. It is soft, and serene, but loud and projected across the room. Female, mature, a voice layered with experience and much time spent orating. <<generic>>"Hello, my child, do you seek the comfort of Sommne?"<</generic>> You search for the voice, and can't seem to find it. It's obscured by distance and most assuredly a corner or two. Finally, you call back, asking where she is. She verbally guides you past the lectern to a private office. A placard on the door reads 'Abbess Winifred.' Curiously, string is laid across the walls here, hung up by hooks every now and then. The rope trails out into rooms further into the cathedral. The office is glum and even darker than the main hall. Sitting on a chair, with her hands clasped together on her thighs, is a wolf of prodigious size. Her muzzle is flecked grey, and the weathering of age can be seen on her coat and her features. One of her ears is nibbled and scarred, the tip clipped with triangular breaks. Her bosom is hefty, mammoth tits with a slight sag to them concealed in her nun's gown. Her size though, is what is truly striking. She looms over you like a willow, casting a long shadow. Her height is beyond what's normal for her ilk, and it lends her a sort of Junoesque figure when matched with her ample feminine proportions. Finally, and most importantly, is the cloth that lay over her eyes. White, and ragged with age, it is a blindfold. Suddenly the darkness of the cathedral and the ropes around the rooms make more sense, the sister of the cathedral is blind. [[Speak with her.|winnispeak]] [[Pray with her.|winniepray]] [[Offer alms.|winniedono]] [[Leave her for now.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $cathvisit to true>> <<else>> The cathedral is quiet and empty. Winnifred is most certainly around. [[Speak with her.|winnispeak]] [[Pray with her.|winniepray]] [[Offer alms.|winniedono]] [[Leave her for now.|tappahannockhub]] <</if>>[[Who are you?|winniewho]] [[Who is Sommne?|winniegod]] [[I require comfort.|winniecomfy]] [[Nevermind.|sommnecath]] You ask the woman to lead you in prayer, and she is joyed to do so. Her voice is melodious and soothing. Something about the slight hiss of her words through her fanged teeth makes your scalp tingle. She can't see you, but she trains you with her muzzle. Perhaps she can see shadows, or perhaps her sense of smell and hearing are that sharp. Regardless, there is something both comforting and curious about how accurately she keeps her 'eye' on you. The prayer she leads you in is unfamiliar. It's a simple and bolstering hymn asking for bounty and peace. Strength when needed, and courage in the dark. <<generic>>"Place your hand out, petitioner, and receive Sommne's grace."<</generic>> You do as she asks. With a very trained and perfected motion, she turns about 90 degrees, opens a box, and retrieves a small wafer. She places it in your palm. It's a sun cookie. A human treat made with almond powder and topped with a small dot of honey. It's mild, with only a slight hint of sweetness. <<generic>>"Can I help you with something else?"<</generic>> [[Continue.|winnispeak]] <<generic>>"You wish to donate to the church?"<</generic>> She smiles warmly, and rises to fetch an alms box. <<generic>>"Please, place in whatever you feel comfortable giving. All funds go to maintaining the cathedral, but any extra is given to the needy or infirm."<</generic>> With a delicate, motherly temper, she presents the small wooden box. There is a slot for coins. <<if $playerCoins >= 5>> [[Give 5.|winniedono2]] <<else>> You don't have enough coin to give... awkward. [[Continue.|winnispeak]] <</if>> She cants her head in thought. <<generic>>"Will a prayer satiate you?"<</generic>> [[Yes.|winniepray]] [[No.|winnicheck]] <<if $class is "fighter">><<generic>>She makes a sad sound, and her lips form a frown. "A sorry question, a human ought to know Sommne. Even in such a sinful place as Tappahannock."<</generic>><</if>> <<generic>>"Sommne is a human god. He is ancient, and oft-forgotten. His domain is that of the sun, good harvest, camaraderie, and joyful festivals. He abhors that which has died and returned. He makes visible that which hides in the dark. And he shows grace to those that try."<</generic>> <<if $class is "wizard">>You get the feeling Sommne wouldn't approve of many of your activities.<</if>> [[Why does a wolf worship Sommne?|winniwhy]] [[Are you the only priestess here?|winnionly]] [[Ask something else.|winnispeak]]<<generic>>"If it pleases you, dear."<</generic>> [[Ask something else.|winnispeak]]<<generic>>"Winifred. Some call me Winnie. Or Abbess. Headmother." She gives a soft, reverberating single-note laugh. It's heavy with age. "Some have called me mommy as well."<</generic>> [[May I call you mommy?|winniemom]] [[Ask something else.|winnispeak]]<<generic>>"All are welcome in his light. Regardless of fur or hide, fang or claw. So long as they pay him homage."<</generic>> [[Ask something else.|winnispeak]]<<generic>>"I am. And much of my flock has gone. Tappahannock is hardly a city of morals. Worship of the divine is rare here. Only those that give their lives over to debauchery thrive here. I am a relic."<</generic>> Winnie sighs, a severe sadness falling over her. [[Ask something else.|winnispeak]]<<generic>>"I see. May I touch your face?"<</generic>> You allow her, and she stretches her hand out. <<if $virgin is true>>"Your form has been unsullied by premarital sex. You're still pure." You aren't sure what she means, and she clarifies. <<generic>>"Virgo intacta. You haven't felt the pleasure of a woman."<</generic>> That's right, but what is the relevance? <<generic>>"You have the innocence required to receive my comfort."<</generic>> She stands, and you have to crane your neck far to meet her shrouded eyes. She takes off hastelessly down a hall with her ropes as a guide. It gives you plenty of time to follow her, and the long precession of gown she leaves. Winnie leads you to a somewhat glum, but massive, bedchamber. With a pang of discomfort, you notice a few piles of books with a thick layer of dust upon them. She has no need for them now. It is with great surprise that, when you look back to Winnie, she is disrobing. Faced away from you, she unties the sash and string of her habit, and lets the entire set of robes fall to the floor. She is covered now only by a simple bit of underwear around her loins. Her nude back is wonderful, serenely straight in its posture. Dimples of venus mark her lower back, and her plump butt is hefty with age. Her greyish fur bristles slightly. <<generic>>"Bring yourself to a more natural state so that I may feel your warmth and you may feel mine. But make no motions as to the sexual. Or I will be forced to banish you from the cathedral. Understood?"<</generic>> She turns her head over her shoulder toward you, a life-long habit of someone who could formerly see. Winnie then climbs atop the bed. Innocent as she intends this to be, you can't deny how arousing her figure is. You nod. Then speak your affirmation aloud. She makes it clear arousal will not be judged, a man can scarcely control his penis' reactions. That relieves you a bit, and you start undressing. Winnie is laid on her side, breasts covered incidentally by her arm. Her massive bed allows for plenty of room, but it seems you are wanted as the little spoon. The moment you mount the mattress she claws into you with a tight grip. No pain, as her claws are perfectly kept at bay, but she doesn't allow you the option of moving away. You're nuzzled close to her chest, and your entire, naked body, is draped by Winnie. She is warm, pleasantly warm like sun on your bare skin. The room is grey and dour. Little light comes in from the windows, and the air is chilly. But she is warm. Winifred whispers soothing, if a little preachy, affirmations to you. Her hands, large and powerful, brush down your body and seek to leave no part of you unsafe. The closeness to her nipples, the nakedness, her sweet words, all get you sprung. She smiles innocently, and tells you it is alright, giving your prick a single squeeze. <<generic>>"Mommy used to have that effect on many men. Do not be ashamed. But there will be no penetration or outercourse."<</generic>> You nod, hugging around her waist and burying your face closer to her chest. Your eyes become sleepy, and despite an attempt to fight it off, you feel sleep creep up on you. [[Continue.|winniesom]] <<else>> <<generic>>"Hmph. I am afraid you have lost your innocence." <</generic>> When your silence makes it clear you're unsure what she means, she elaborates. <<generic>>"You've lain with a woman."<</generic>> You ask her why it matters. <<generic>>"It is merely that, I am not allowed to have a sullied man in my bedchambers. I am sorry, but I cannot provide the comfort I intended to you."<</generic>> [[Continue.|winnispeak]] <</if>> You wake before Winnie does, and have a moment to look over her slumbering form. The morning light makes what little of her fur it touches glimmer. Her hide is soft and her body is warm. Her arm has you wrapped close to her chest, allowing you to feel yourself rise and fall along with her lungs as she snoozes. An overwhelming need to get just a few more minutes of slumber comes over you. But just as you try to chase that rabbit of five more minutes, another path opens. Your morning wood presses to her midsection, adding a bit of pre-cum to the mound of pudge padding her body. You must have been rubbing against her for a while, because you feel quite needy. It's wrong, but you could try slipping it into her. You could have a chance to lose your virginity... [[Ignore it! Don't violate her trust, try to rest.|winniesomno]] [[Fuck Winnie as she sleeps.|winniesomyes]] It is unsurprisingly a little difficult, especially with the notion set into your head. You banish it after some time, and sleep comes. Lewdness invades your dreams, but you feel good having not acted on your desires. Violating her trust in that way would be a sore mistake. Winnie rouses you eventually, having gotten up and begun her day. She is dressed, albeit loosely, in a robe. The part down the middle does nothing to conceal her muff. She presents you a modest meal, no meat and, just warm milled grain and milk. It's filling, if a bit bland. You dress in undergarments and follow her to the table she eats at. The two of you share breakfast in comforting silence. Only the clink of spoons to bowls and eating are produced. You reflect a moment on how she's managed to prepare two meals despite being blind. <<generic>>"I understand last evening may have been difficult, but I admire your courage and ability to resist your urges. It would be a sin to assist you directly."<</generic>> There is a pause, heavy with implication. Though she can't see you, she looks to you. <<generic>>"However, supervising the relief you provide yourself might be something of a reward for your temperance. If it would please you?"<</generic>> [[Accept her offer.|winniehjy]] [[Decline her.|winniehjn]] You are careful about it, but free yourself from her arm. A focus comes over you, taking into account every breath and sigh she makes as she slumbers. Rousing her to awakeness now wouldn't be bad, but it would spoil your chance. With careful and slow motions, slow as you can manage, you right yourself and spread her legs. Thankfully, a shift in her position has her laid out across her back. As if beckoning you in, her legs spread wide. The soft glimmer of the delicate treasure hidden amongst her tuft of pubic fur calls to you. You aren't sure if you've ever been this hard. Instinct drives you forward in a prowl, padding across the bed to get between her thighs and finally make yourself a man. The tender scent of her nethers is bewitching, and you wish you had time to kiss, lick, or even finger her. But with an opportunity like this, you can't be fussy, you go for gold. <<if $class is "wizard">> With your slender prick, you easily slide past her folds. She is immensely warm, a shocking plunge into a divine and soothing passage. But, you notice just how 'slight' that dive is. She also isn't quite as wet as you'd like. Trying to follow your natural desires, albeit awkwardly, you find a pace. A feverish lust locks over you as you find yourself melting into that wonderment of your first time. The rutting against her sleeping body is clumsy but divine. It's an impossibility to balance a slow pace, silencing yourself, and keeping tabs on her. Moans escape your lips, your hips refuse your orders and pump quicker, or you find yourself distracted listening to her breathing. The frenetic and adrenaline-fueled exploration peaks, and with a white flash across your vision, you feel yourself ejaculate with force and suddenness into Winnie's sleeping snatch. The pleasure of getting your nut in her slumbering form, stealing this chance to pop your cherry, rolls over you. As you pluck out your knot and realize it's over, you also notice her breathing has stopped. Unblurrying your pleasure-fuzzy vision, you focus on her face. Which is now locked in and raised, you feel her peering at you past the veil hiding her useless eyes. Before you can make a sound or move, alacrity you didn't know she had allows her to grab a hold of your neck and waist. Her thumb-claw toys with the fur of your larynx, threatening to puncture it and spill your lifeblood to your chest. <<generic>>With a fierce and vicious rumble to her words, she speaks, "Leave here and never return. You are banished from this place, you sinful weakling."<</generic>> She kicks you from the bed, and you follow her warning, getting your things and fleeing. You got what you wanted, and that's all that matters. <</if>> <<if $class is "fighter">> With your stiff cock in your hand, you aim it for her labia and nudge yourself in. It's difficult, at first. Not only dealing with this new and absurdly wonderous feeling, but she isn't as wet as you'd like. Trying to follow your natural desires, albeit awkwardly, you find a pace. A feverish lust locks over you as you find yourself melting into that wonderment of your first time. The rutting against her sleeping body is clumsy but divine. It's an impossibility to balance a slow pace, silencing yourself, and keeping tabs on her. As you continue, she gets wetter, your shaft glimmering in the morning light with signs of her pleasure. Asleep she may be, but her body still answers to the tune of your male imposition. Her breathing gets heavier, but its still paced as sleep should be. Nerves and adrenaline amp you up, urging you to get deeper and go harder. Her body rocks just slightly with your motions, her large form impressively sturdy despite your plaps. Just as an edge begins to ride up your cock, she gasps sharply. Shock freezes your body as her hands, and claws, wrap around your shoulder and waist. The claws rake your flesh and her legs lock around your waist, shoving you deeper. The flash of pain awakens a vigor and certainty you didn't know you possessed. The surety you have on the battlefield finds itself supplanted to the bedroom, and you return her gesture. Blood runs down your back, and the fresh air makes your wounds sting. But you grab onto her tit and tug on it, and pinch her clit with your free hand. And you begin again, but this time stopping for nothing. She growls with frustrated irritation as you began to fuck into her, deeper than before and now careless about how much noise or force you're using. Your teeth sink to her nipple, hers sink to your neck. She howls and you grunt in pain, still finding your cock in a different sort of agony. Each flash of pain makes your orgasm wane, giving you nothing but a stronger and more forceful need to breed this bitch. Winnie's body begins to take on a fell tremble. <<generic>>"You foul s-sinner! I banish thee, begone from her, lest I open your neck next."<</generic>> Her claws aren't on your neck yet, so your teeth just bit into her lovely, pillow tit more. And your cock throbs and twitches, signaling your resistance and persistence. She howls again, sinking her head back into her pillow. Her hands soften their grip, and her legs tighten. The fur of her thighs brush to your bare skin as she rubs and grinds up at you. <<generic>>"Nhh, no! Off! OFF!"<</generic>> Despite Winnie's cries, she doesn't throw you off and you don't stop. Not when you're about to jizz. She grinds her teeth, trying to clamp down on the feminine and defeat moan that warbles from her pursed lips. She sings a long and low declaration of her orgasm. The spasming of her cunt upon your phallus is insanity. The feeling of pride, certainty, masculinity and power that washes over you is immense. You made this big bitch cum, on your first go, even with her claws in you. But that's all you have. You ejaculate, spurting your semen deeply into her. The orgasm is potent, but the journey was equally impressive. You go slack, falling atop her. Winnie is quick to shove you off, growling and spreading her legs. She's still with an uncertainty. <<generic>>"Gah! I told you off you blundering fool! You've cum inside me. You best hope my womb can hold no more pups, or a foul blight will fall upon you."<</generic>> She tries to kick you from the bed, flailingly. With her blindness, she can't only strike you with so much accuracy. You gather up your things, exhausted, bleeding, and satisfied. <<generic>>"Begone from here! And never return. You'll find no mercy next time. Ghhh." She reclines in the bed, covering herself up and looking mournful.<</generic>> A twinge of regret comes over you. But you took what you wanted, regardless of the morality. With your possessions in hand, you redress and refit, and exit. <</if>> <span style="color:cyan;"><strong>You've lost your virginity.</strong></span> <<set $cardPuncher to "the priestess, Winnifred, by force.">> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<set $virgin to false>> <<set $cathBanned to true>><<generic>>"I presume you use your hand, then. Go ahead. You can't show me, but I will be able to hear and smell your pleasure."<</generic>> There at the table, you find yourself hard enough and down bad enough to go at it right in front of her. She brings her chair alongside yours, and sniffs the air slightly, nodding to encourage you forward. Her large stature has her looming over you, which is sedating and perplexing in equal share. Such a large, yet tender, woman. You place your hand around your cock and begin to go at it as you have in the past. It feels different now. Exciting. All because of your half nude, holy audience. She places a hand on your thigh, spreading your legs wider a bit. Even the weight of her palm there is stimulating. So close, and so far. You look her up and down. From her veiled eyes down to betwixt her legs. Her robe is parted, but the tuft of fur above her pussy hides it from view. Just the barest hint of her nipples peek from the cloth. Quicker than you want, you find your breath catching in your throat and your muscles tensing in anticipation. <<generic>>"Good. Go ahead. You can ejaculate as soon as you like."<</generic>> Her hand retreats from her thigh to a pocket on her side. She returns with something that makes you ready to cum. A pair of her panties, and by the scent, freshly worn. <<generic>>"You may cum here. They are from the other day. It's better than me trying to clean the floor. Considering how difficult that would be. Though perhaps you would have liked to see me lick up your seed from the floor? To see it roll around my tongue? To see me clean it from my muzzle."<</generic>> She licks across her teeth and lips in a long, slow, sensual lap. And, watching her do that, and seeing the immense joy play across her face, you cum. Spurts of white are perfectly caught across her panties. Winnie is careful not to touch you directly, though she moves her undergarments to catch all your batter without fail. <<generic>>"Good boy. You will make a fine and stalwart husband to your future wife, I am certain."<</generic>> She folds the panties up in her hands a few times and sets them aside. <<generic>>"Why don't we dress, and get about our day? Please return any time you wish. Whether it be for prayer or merely a chat. Visitors to the cathedral are few. I am pleased to play host again for once."<</generic>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] She lowers her head with a humble smile, laying her hands together on her lap. <<generic>>"Very well. You will make a fine and stalwart husband to your future wife, I am certain. Please return any time you wish. Whether it be for prayer or merely a chat. Visitors to the cathedral are few. I am pleased to play host again for once."<</generic>> [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]] <<generic>>"Thank you, $name."<</generic>> She pats the box, the sound is muffled by her padded fingertips. [[Continue.|winnispeak]] <<set $playerCoins -= 5>>[[What is Elsteron like? What was it like?|yulhatalk1]] [[Why are you here?|yulhatalk2]] [[Why did you give your golem a massive cock?|yulhatalk3]] [[What does it feel like to be undead?|yulhatalk4]] [[That's all you wanted to ask, leave her be.|skeelexit]]<<yulha>>"Verdant. Temperate forests. The valley of the autarch, where I grew up, received a lot of rainfall. It was often grey but never dour. When the sun shone, it was beautiful, and the earth gave forth such a ripe bounty of life no one wanted for sustenance. To the south, plains. To the west, mountains. Cultured and vibrant. Life."<</yulha>> Yulha looks past you into the middle distance. Her reddened eyes blink not once, staring coldly and blankly at a field of green you will never know. <<yulha>>"Chilled rain. The soil spits up nothing but putrid mycelium. The air is choked with fog most days. The valley I was born in is so choked with the undead it appears as a sea of wavering black." <</yulha>> She hones in on you as she describes her, her pale and bloodless features darkening to a foul degree. <<yulha>>"Any other questions, $name?"<</yulha>> [[Continue.|yulhatalkmenu]] <<yulha>>"I'm on holiday," she holds her palms face up in a nonchalant shrug, deflecting your question.<</yulha>> Maybe she will open up more later... [[Continue.|yulhatalkmenu]] <<if $yulhaStage is 10>> OR <<yulha>>"Why do you think I'm here?" She points at you with a flick of her clawed index finger. "I thought you were meant to be smart."<</yulha>> She doesn't entertain an answer to her rhetorical question. Maybe she will open up more later... OR <<yulha>>"My people have needs, accessing the outside world serves those needs. We may be undead, yet we still live. Should we be denied necessities and left to languish due to something outside of our control?"<</yulha>> Her reply seems a little rehearsed. Either she's thought of how she would reply to such a probing at length, or it's something she's drilled. OR <<yulha>>"An avenue to weaken a country maintaining the quarantine is our goal. Soften the boars. Break free of containment, and their thin alliance will shatter. Once we have a path to the sea, there will be no stopping us."<</yulha>> You can't see her smile, but her eyes crease with the effects of it. <<yulha>>"You're with us in this, aren't you, $name?"<</yulha>> <</if>><<yulha>>"Why do you think? Even an undead woman has needs." The corners of her eyes wince with a smile hidden under her mask. "Teasing aside, the reality is she can be quite persuasive. If violence is not needed, why not pleasure?"<</yulha>> You ask her if people really enjoy being fucked by Stride. <<yulha>>"Want to give her a whirl?"<</yulha>> Stride's red eyes lock onto you, with a robotic tilt of her head. [[Continue.|yulhatalkmenu]] <<yulha>>"I can feel myself rotting."<</yulha>> Her expressionless face and emotionless voice offer no hints as to if she is toying with you or not. <<yulha>>"If I eat brains, it makes the pain go away," a rasp in her voice has the horror of her statement break into a mad cackle.<</yulha>> You return the sentiment with a nervous chuckle, finding yourself understanding Yulha a little less in some ways, and a little more in others. [[Continue.|yulhatalkmenu]] <<if $yulhaStage is 10>> <<yulha>>"In time, you may know the feeling yourself. Cold along the fingertips. Not the cold of a bitter winter, though, the cold of absence. You feel as though something is missing at all times. Something has been misplaced. There is a sense of, how can I say, unease?"<</yulha>> Her eyes flutter and she considers her thoughts more. <<yulha>>"The living shun you, many of your ilk are nothing more but mindless husks. Those of us with the will must bring our way of the world to all, or we will be stamped out."<</yulha>> [[Why don't you just live in peace and meet your end when it comes?|yulhatalk5]] <</if>> Yulha laughs, her clawed hand covering a mouth already concealed. <<yulha>>"Turn the other cheek on those that took everything from you? I would sooner... I would sooner die."<</yulha>> She cackles again with a derangement you can only assume is part of her condition. [[Continue.|yulhatalkmenu]] <<minerva>>"You've certainly shown the devotion of your coin purse. Enough that I will consider allowing you a session of supervised masturbation. It should go without saying, but you will not be touching me."<</minerva>> Minerva stands, gracefully, dismissing her small cadre of servile males with the wave of her wrist. <<minerva>>"Follow me, we will get you your reward. And make haste."<</minerva>> You aren't sure what this supervised handfuck will be, but just being in the same room with her as she watches you, that's worth it. Following her upstairs feels like it takes forever, and not once do your eyes leave her. Whether it be her slim shoulder, or her perky and pleasant buns. When she opens her door, she holds it open in wait for you. Being guided in by her feels just that slightest bit more demeaning. She's treating you like a woman with such a gentlemanly courtesy, because you aren't a man to her. She presses closed the doors, demurely clasping her hands together. <<minerva>>"Disrobe entirely. Make yourself nude, I want you to feel the discomfort of being naked before a clothed woman. To feel vulnerable at my hands." Her smile is diabolical, and unrelenting.<</minerva>> You follow her orders, no choice but to do so. Piece by piece, you begin to remove your clothes until you're in nothing but your <<if $class is "fighter">>birthday suit.<<else>>your fur.<</if>> <<minerva>>"Fold your items on the floor, and kneel before me. Place your forehead to the floorboards and beg me to masturbate."<</minerva>> Even while standing before her nude and erect, this request gives you pause. There is no way she could ever see you as a man if you are to agree to that. No way to back out either, you've already given her your hard-earned coinage. <<minerva>>"Well?"<</minerva>> Your fingers move first, then the rest of your hands and finally your arms. Moving to fold, tidy, and organize the articles of clothes you gave up into neat selections. Then, you supplicate yourself before her. In your genuflecting, you mumble and then call out in need your want to touch yourself. Begging her for the ability to. Her mocking laughter runs through you like a tuning fork's vibration, making your nethers tingle with her control over them. Looking up at her, you find her flipping you off. Her long and pointed claw caps off that dismissive and insulting gesture. <<minerva>>"Go on then you worm, pull on yourself. Is that all you're good for, hm? Money? I think so."<</minerva>> She begins, with laborious apathy as to the speed of her undressing. Each bored, distant glance she gives you only arouses you further, fumbling over the reality of just how many bits of gold you'd laid at her paws. Her top reveals a luxurious but impenetrable bra, concealing her smallish breasts. A sparking at her fingers speaks to a minor bit of spellcraft, and in your masturbatory haze you hardly question it. The effects of the spell aren't worth your consideration, at least until her bra drops from her chest. Instead of Minerva's bare breasts, you see nothing. Not quite nothing, rather, a smokey black cloud of ink obscures them. It reveals nothing of her feminine wonderment, leaving you with just the bare skin of her tummy and arms. As if it is a worthy trade, she raises her gracile arms above her head, revealing her armpits. Just a bit of floof marks them as pleasantly bushy, but well cleaned of any sweat or fragrance. You are to observe, not touch, huff or lick. The stroking you ply to yourself becomes more erratic, her eyes searching for your reaction. <<minerva>>"Well, say thank you."<</minerva>> [[Beg her to see more.|mincens1]] [[Thank her.|mincens2]] [[Spite her.|mincens3]]<<minervac>>"Oh, is that how you will be?"<</minervac>> With a further snap, the inky obfuscation writhes its way across her entire form, following her outline. All you are left with is a curious silhouette, her paws, and her face. Most of her face, at least. A thick band, like a blindfold, covers her eyes. <<minervac>>"You don't deserve even a fraction of what I give you. You're beneath even the dirt I tread."<</minervac>> Something deep-seated in you crumbles in submission at seeing so much stripped from your vision. The eyeless glare of her covered gaze is withering, and the only defiance you have left to present is the seed you suddenly spill to the floorboards. As you nut, a final glance at her paws, visible only from the ankle down, cements your place beneath her. [[Continue.|hitail]]<<minerva>>"That's a good pet. You'll take what you're given and savor it."<</minerva>> The shadows thin, and instead of purely black shroud, it becomes closer to a sheet of glazed glass. Your eyes narrow on the blurred, unsure details of lovely pink nipples playing off the white of her fur. The look is vague and it's only the notion of what her breasts look like. This is all Minerva will give you though. As you worship the blurring ambiguity of her chest, you glaze the floor with your cum. As you nut, a final glance at her paws, cements your place beneath her. [[Continue.|hitail]]<<minerva>>"No. That is for better men than you. You will sit, and you will take what scraps you are thrown."<</minerva>> She points down to the floor. <<minerva>>"Heel, cur, and pay homage to the paws that control your masculinity and your coin purse."<</minerva>> In your heightened state of arousal, you can't muster the will to defy her order. Besides, giving in feels extraordinary. You kneel deeper, nearly with your forehead to the floor as you pin your eyes to her footpaws. <<minerva>>"Thank your girlfriends for being here for your jerk off time, won't you?"<</minerva>> She chuckles and splays her toes, wiggling them at you and tapping her nails to the floor. That sets you off, your confused cock seemingly having linked the sight of her paws with a chance at sex - you shoot your ill-fated offspring between your legs in a sticky white puddle of shame. As you nut, a final glance at her paws, cements your place beneath her. [[Continue.|hitail]]<<generic>>"I need to get some paperwork done. If you wouldn't mind helping me? It's quite boring. Lots of double and triple-checking ledgers. Reviewing invoices. Drafting letters of credit."<</generic>> You tell her you're not exactly versed in the duties of a secretarial scribe. <<generic>>"No need to be. You'll just be my chair while I work." She licks her lips and produces such a devilish smile you find yourself struggling to decline.<</generic>> [[Agree. Let your face be used as Farah's seat.|farahfacesit2]] [[Not today.|farahtalkmenu]] You agree, and already quite satisfied, Farah quickly gathers up her materials. <<generic>>"I'll lock up the front, and show you to my draft room. We should have privacy there. And if we don't, well, I suppose they'll just have to see a cute boy servicing a dutiful saluki now won't they?"<</generic>> The idea of being caught is a little titillating on its own. <<generic>>"Ahem, feel free to focus your tongue's work on my asshole, $name. But... don't be afraid to kiss the prisoner if you desire. She's often so lonely." Farah purrs, wiggling her rump as she leads you further into the lavish building.<</generic>> It's only a few twists and turns before you're spirited away to a private quarters. It's exactly what you might expect of a draftsman's room, an angled table and plenty of comfy seats. Farah gets herself established at the table, lowering it all the way to ground level. It left only a small space - that was for you. Farah hiked up her skirts, flashing once against that padlocked cunt of hers. The metal of her piercings already glistened. <<generic>>"Oh, mind pulling out the plug for me?"<</generic>> As you crawl between her legs and face yourself up at her nethers, she begins to squat down on you. Her ass cheeks spread, naturally unveiling the wonderful sapphire that held her ass plugged. [[Yank it out.|farahfacesit4]] [[Pull it out gently.|farahfacesit3]] You yank it out with force, mischievously causing her a bit of pain. Farah barks, and growls in a hiss of pain. In retribution, she plants her ass across your face in one hard motion. "You damn welp, who told you to be so rough?" She asks, her voice muffled by the furry cheeks now stifling you. Her voice is twinged with amused annoyance, trying to veil itself so as to not encourage such behavior you wonder. She smears her wet nethers back and forth across your lips and nose. You lash out with your tongue, offering your apologies with a bit of service. The scent of her is strong, a potent musk that was rife with all the hints of a woman denied. Her pussy is already sopping wet, and she's only just settled down. It's a struggle at first to get your breathing just right. Air is a commodity between Farah's cheeks, and what oxygen you could bring in is filtered through her heaven-scented nethers. As you begin your slow and methodical exploration of her asshole and cunt with your tongue, she moves her paws up and down your thighs. Slow and teasing, both of you move in a sort of dance. You aren't going anywhere anytime soon, so you take your time. The tip of your tongue intimately and carefully examines the detailed texture of her asshole before you begin to apply the full, wet force of a lick to her. All the while, her caged pussy drips upon your chin, coating you in commendations for your teasing. Not to mention to stifled and suppressed sounds from above. The scratch of quill to paper is occasionally broken up by the womanly cooing of a girl being given slow and careful head. You can practically feel her biting her lips and fluttering her eyes with the way her rear tenses and winks. It's dark between her ass cheeks, and there is little to see, but the longer you remain under her influence, the more a mental map of her box and ass develops. Just as she suggested, you give her pussy some attention to. It isn't quite as intimate as a conjugal visit, but you swipe your licker up and down her lock and rings. Tasting the sweet and tangy water of her arousal, and tormenting the labia that hasn't known the touch of a cock in years. You say nothing, but remind her with gentle pokes and prods of your mouth just what getting fucked would feel like. Tender and careful kisses plant themselves across both her holes, your mouth driven forward by the desire to explore and make her shiver. And shiver she does. The flow of time stuffed under her ass is warped, you can't be too sure just how long you've been under. But as time ticks by, you can feel her tense up more and more. Her paws dig into your thighs, clutching to you for safety, as she works through the edge your tongue is forcing her to experience. You pick up the tempo, driven by the excitement of seeing her react and wanting to push her buttons. Caught in a feedback loop, your intense tongue-kissing of her ass and cunt made her stir and squirm more. The arousal this causes you is trapped by your clothes, so can't do much other than throb your cock and savor the feeling of an intense erection currently concealed. The scratch of the quill is replaced by the digging of her nails to the desk. The subtle coos become outright whines and barks of pleasure. She begins to feverishly grind her ass to your face, unable to stop her hips from moving of their own desires. You clutch to her thighs, keeping her steady and on your face where it should be. Suddenly, with a wet and slick, squirting fanfare to prove it, she cums. "Gah, oh fuck, $name. Fuck. Hnnnmmff. Excellent work, what a good boy. Grrr." Farah's voice strains with the orgasm her body was trembling through. You catch your breath, only just now feeling how sore your tongue is. You nudge up at her, half expecting Farah to dismount. Instead of the pressure on your face being alleviated, you feel your pants being fiddled with. The saluki leans forward, her weight shifting only minorly as she gets your prick free. "Good enough job to deserve a tip, don't you agree? You don't mind, I'm sure of it." She leans back, wiggling her rump on your face and shaking your head along with it. Even with the strain of needy inhales, she keeps a stiff and business-like tone. You aren't sure what she intends to do until you feel your length strapped suddenly between her paws. Soft and tight, her padded digits cushion your shaft within leathery and squishy toebeans. For you there is no slow start or methodical temptation, Farah breaks right into the deep end. It steals the breath from your lungs, the mechanically perfect and even strokes her footpaws immediately start with. The sensation is a soft, tickling flurry of paw-fucking splendor. The visuals are entirely within your mind, but the sight of her paws stroking your prick makes your glans glisten with precum. As you begin to slick up her paws with aroused lubricant, her stroking intensifies. It's hardly loveless, it's not cold, but the tempo of her paw-hump is absolutely strict and professional. Her paws shift, previously trapping your cock between both soles. Now, her left sole presses your dick forward to the back of her right paw. Her toes stroke you off with a pawfuck that makes your balls clench up in need to spill. "I hope you understand that I need to keep my hands free," she says with a chuckle. As your edge mounts you wonder about the wording of her statement. Just as you give yourself over to climax she slows, and your edge dissipates. No orgasm comes. The dazzling build up of dopamine begins to wane just as you make to move or signal your bewilderment. And then she begins again. Faster, and precise. The feeling saps the strength of movement from you, wishing to turn yourself over to the care of her paws and delight in orgasm. But Farah is dead-set on keeping you as desperate as you had her! She edges you between the cushy pads of her footpaws several times in quick succession. The feeling of your nut rising up your cock and threatening to spill out at any moment drives you mad. You clutch at her ass, hump up at her paws, moan and grunt. But each motion is accounted for. Farah moves with skilled deftness to make sure you can't hump yourself to an orgasm, nor reach your dick to relieve yourself. Finally, as your will really begins to fracture and the body-high of all these edges has soaked in, Farah allows you your release. An exhausting, lovely, full release. The force with which your orgasm hits the underside of her desk is loud enough to surprise you both. Hot and full shots of batter splatter across her paws and the wood of her desk. She chuckles, feeling the jets of cum tickle her toes and fall back down on her paws from above. "Bravo. Splendid performance. I think we're both due a bit of clean up, don't you?" Your entire form is far too spent to even comprehend her words, dazed and dazzled by the finality of all that edging. [[Continue.|tapexit]] You pull it out gently, watching as she helps it along by pushing. The sight of her tight hole spreading and expanding around the plug before closing again fills you with wonder. You could go for stuffing her backside again. Setting aside the toy, you brace yourself to be smothered by her butt. "Get comfortable now, you're in for the long haul," She asks, her voice muffled by the furry cheeks now stifling you. Her voice is unsteady with the duress of anticipation. She smears her wet nethers back and forth across your lips and nose. You lash out with your tongue, telegraphing your want with a bit of service. The scent of her is strong, a potent musk that was rife with all the hints of a woman denied. Her pussy is already sopping wet, and she's only just settled down. It's a struggle at first to get your breathing just right. Air is a commodity between Farah's cheeks, and what oxygen you could bring in is filtered through her heaven-scented nethers. As you begin your slow and methodical exploration of her asshole and cunt with your tongue, she moves her paws up and down your thighs. Slow and teasing, both of you move in a sort of dance. You aren't going anywhere anytime soon, so you take your time. The tip of your tongue intimately and carefully examines the detailed texture of her asshole before you begin to apply the full, wet force of a lick to her. All the while, her caged pussy drips upon your chin, coating you in commendations for your teasing. Not to mention to stifled and suppressed sounds from above. The scratch of quill to paper is occasionally broken up by the womanly cooing of a girl being given slow and careful head. You can practically feel her biting her lips and fluttering her eyes with the way her rear tenses and winks. It's dark between her ass cheeks, and there is little to see, but the longer you remain under her influence, the more a mental map of her box and ass develops. Just as she suggested, you give her pussy some attention to. It isn't quite as intimate as a conjugal visit, but you swipe your licker up and down her lock and rings. Tasting the sweet and tangy water of her arousal, and tormenting the labia that hasn't known the touch of a cock in years. You say nothing, but remind her with gentle pokes and prods of your mouth just what getting fucked would feel like. Tender and careful kisses plant themselves across both her holes, your mouth driven forward by the desire to explore and make her shiver. And shiver she does. The flow of time stuffed under her ass is warped, you can't be too sure just how long you've been under. But as time ticks by, you can feel her tense up more and more. Her paws dig into your thighs, clutching to you for safety, as she works through the edge your tongue is forcing her to experience. You pick up the tempo, driven by the excitement of seeing her react and wanting to push her buttons. Caught in a feedback loop, your intense tongue-kissing of her ass and cunt made her stir and squirm more. The arousal this causes you is trapped by your clothes, so can't do much other than throb your cock and savor the feeling of an intense erection currently concealed. The scratch of the quill is replaced by the digging of her nails to the desk. The subtle coos become outright whines and barks of pleasure. She begins to feverishly grind her ass to your face, unable to stop her hips from moving of their own desires. You clutch to her thighs, keeping her steady and on your face where it should be. Suddenly, with a wet and slick, squirting fanfare to prove it, she cums. "Gah, oh fuck, $name. Fuck. Hnnnmmff. Excellent work, what a good boy. Grrr." Farah's voice strains with the orgasm her body was trembling through. You catch your breath, only just now feeling how sore your tongue is. You nudge up at her, half expecting Farah to dismount. Instead of the pressure on your face being alleviated, you feel your pants being fiddled with. The saluki leans forward, her weight shifting only minorly as she gets your prick free. "Good enough job to deserve a tip, don't you agree? You don't mind, I'm sure of it." She leans back, wiggling her rump on your face and shaking your head along with it. Even with the strain of needy inhales, she keeps a stiff and business-like tone. You aren't sure what she intends to do until you feel your length strapped suddenly between her paws. Soft and tight, her padded digits cushion your shaft within leathery and squishy toebeans. For you there is no slow start or methodical temptation, Farah breaks right into the deep end. It steals the breath from your lungs, the mechanically perfect and even strokes her footpaws immediately start with. The sensation is a soft, tickling flurry of paw-fucking splendor. The visuals are entirely within your mind, but the sight of her paws stroking your prick makes your glans glisten with precum. As you begin to slick up her paws with aroused lubricant, her stroking intensifies. It's hardly loveless, it's not cold, but the tempo of her paw-hump is absolutely strict and professional. Her paws shift, previously trapping your cock between both soles. Now, her left sole presses your dick forward to the back of her right paw. Her toes stroke you off with a pawfuck that makes your balls clench up in need to spill. "I hope you understand that I need to keep my hands free," she says with a chuckle. As your edge mounts you wonder about the wording of her statement. Just as you give yourself over to climax she slows, and your edge dissipates. No orgasm comes. The dazzling build up of dopamine begins to wane just as you make to move or signal your bewilderment. And then she begins again. Faster, and precise. The feeling saps the strength of movement from you, wishing to turn yourself over to the care of her paws and delight in orgasm. But Farah is dead-set on keeping you as desperate as you had her! She edges you between the cushy pads of her footpaws several times in quick succession. The feeling of your nut rising up your cock and threatening to spill out at any moment drives you mad. You clutch at her ass, hump up at her paws, moan and grunt. But each motion is accounted for. Farah moves with skilled deftness to make sure you can't hump yourself to an orgasm, nor reach your dick to relieve yourself. Finally, as your will really begins to fracture and the body-high of all these edges has soaked in, Farah allows you your release. An exhausting, lovely, full release. The force with which your orgasm hits the underside of her desk is loud enough to surprise you both. Hot and full shots of batter splatter across her paws and the wood of her desk. She chuckles, feeling the jets of cum tickle her toes and fall back down on her paws from above. "Bravo. Splendid performance. I think we're both due a bit of clean up, don't you?" Your entire form is far too spent to even comprehend her words, dazed and dazzled by the finality of all that edging. [[Continue.|tapexit]] Seraphina suddenly stands and sweeps you off your feet, hoisting you up and pressing your back to the stone of the castle walls. She rampages her way through revealing your cock, diving her hands into your trousers and nearly tearing them open. The mighty tusks on her face dig into your abdomen, their pointed tips indenting the skin. The muzzle that was just sucking face with you now dedicates each oinking inch toward draining the life from your dick. The baroness applies such forceful suction to you that it verges on too extreme. The sloppy, wet, tongue-swirling blowjob she gangpresses you into has you thrashing and humping. Your entire prick is lost in the wet and slippery mire of her mouth, hot rolling breath tickles the skin as your shaft feels like it's being subsumed with delectable overpleasure. Her hands hold you hoisted by your thighs, cupping your butt and making you feel small as you sling your legs over her shoulders. Fucking downward into her throat has you rolling and squirming in pleasure like a trapped rat. It's no time at all before she fondles your balls and orders you to cum with the glint of dominant malice in her eye. <<baron>>"Finish in my mouth, human-slut," she growls, patting your nuts with her cupped hand.<</baron>> You can't resist a command like that from your superior, and you drain your balls across her tongue and face. Warm and white ropes coat her brownish fur, dripping down to her chest. She seems proud of the facial she's extracted from you. <<baron>>"You're sleeping with me, in my quarters, understood? Little-spoon?"<</baron>> You nod hurriedly... [[Continue.|seraExit]] The masculine urge to dominate drives your hand between her ears and you hold her head in place while you aim your cock at her lips. A single, solemn order for her to 'suck', makes the baroness' eyes glitter. The powerful, strong, noble woman has no choice but to obey. Whorishly she gorges herself on your cock, looking up to you for approval as you guide your meat into her throat. She swallows you up with ease, wincing as you begin thrusting into her maw. The added delight of defiling this powerful woman's mouth gets your hips moving with added fervor, her tusks getting in the way surprisingly little. The baroness drools across your balls as you slap your nuts across her muzzle. The wet and slick sounds of her scrapping the back of her throat with your dick make your spine tingle. Given her large size and height, there is a bit of a disparity even with her kneeling. So you decide to plant a boot on one of her thighs and 'step up' on her, shoving your cock further down her maw. You grasp both of her ears and throatfuck the baroness in her own castle, forgetting who might walk in. Apparently, she loves the notion, between her legs a wet spot grows in size as she feverishly rubs herself. Her eyes flutter with lust, and though you don't let her have a single moment to speak, her face says it all. She adores you take control, it's evident in just how wet she is getting. With your hand to the back of her head, you begin one final effort before coating her throat with your seed. Digging your boots in good, you hump yourself to orgasm in the warm and slick hole of her mouth. Jizz coats her tongue, her throat, and you pull out to get a few shots across her muzzle and face too. Something about her face being cummed on surprises her and sets her off. She moans loud and low, and fingers herself to a lightning bolt of an orgasm. Watching her throes of pleasure play out brings you a deep and comforting satisfaction. Her eyes light up with a half-embarrassed, half-angry fire. She quickly swallows down all the nut you deposit in her mouth, and swiftly tries to clean the rest up with her tongue and fingers. However, wordlessly, she closes her eyes and shows her cleaned-off tongue finally, before standing and putting herself back together. There is nothing to hide the wet spot between her legs. <<baron>>"Ahem. You will be staying in my quarters this evening. Agreeable?"<</baron>> [[Continue.|seraExit]] The masucline urge to dominate drives your hand between her ears and you attempt hold her head in place while you aim your cock at her lips. With a mighty 'harrumph' she chuckles at your attempts and holds you firm. One of her hands grips your hip, and the other bats away your attempt to hold her steady. <<baron>>"You'll fuck my mouth on my terms, knave. And don't forget it!"<</baron>> Your surge of domination swiftly crumbles without the confidence to make another move. It seems Serophina doesn't find your dominant enough to try such a move. Seraphina suddenly stands and sweeps you off your feet, hoisting you up and pressing your back to the stone of the castle walls. She rampages her way through revealing your cock, diving her hands into your trousers and nearly tearing them open. The mighty tusks on her face dig into your abdomen, their pointed tips indenting the skin. The muzzle that was just sucking face with you now dedicates each oinking inch toward draining the life from your dick. The baroness applies such forceful suction to you that it verges on too extreme. The sloppy, wet, tongue-swirling blowjob she gangpresses you into has you thrashing and humping. Your entire prick is lost in the wet and slippery mire of her mouth, hot rolling breath tickles the skin as your shaft feels like it's being subsumed with delectable overpleasure. Her hands hold you hoisted by your thighs, cupping your butt and making you feel small as you sling your legs over her shoulders. Fucking downward into her throat has you rolling and squirming in pleasure like a trapped rat. It's no time at all before she fondles your balls and orders you to cum with the glint of dominant malice in her eye. <<baron>>"Finish in my mouth, human-slut," she growls, patting your nuts with her cupped hand.<</baron>> You can't resist a command like that from your superior, and you drain your balls across her tongue and face. Warm and white ropes coat her brownish fur, dripping down to her chest. She seems proud of the facial she's extracted from you. <<baron>>"You're sleeping with me, in my quarters, understood? Little-spoon?"<</baron>> You nod hurriedly... [[Continue.|seraExit]] The Leaky Vial isn't much different now that you are a member of the Bunnymasks proper. As an initiate, you're free to wonder the premises unmasked and at your leisure. Momma bun greets you when she sees you, inviting you into the back where you were transformed. The warmth of the greenhouse fills you with a sort of scalp-tingling relaxation when combined with the din of the other Bunnymasks. [[Why the greenhouse?|bunnymask3-1]] [[Is there another bacchanalia going on?|bunnymask3-2]] [[Is there any work to be done?|bunnymask3-3]]<<generic>>"The great mother's domain includes all sorts of life, and life-making. What more potent an example than plants bountiful with fruits and a lush garden to soak in the sight of? Besides, many of these plants bear compounds and ingredients we use in our rituals. Whether it be pigments, tinctures, potions or poultices."<</generic>> [[Continue.|bunnymask3]] <<generic>>"There will be soon. In the mean time if you feel the need to <<if $class is "fighter">>rut<<else>>be mounted<</if>>, one of my daughters or another of our members could help you I am sure."<</generic>> [[Continue.|bunnymask3]]<<generic>>"Eager to spread the good word? I am glad to hear it. There is in fact something I wished to discuss with you."<</generic>> She curls her finger at you, leading you aside to a small bench. With a pat of her hand, the matronly bun offers you a seat alongside her. <<generic>>"Have you visited the chapel dedicated to Sommne in town yet?"<</generic>> <<if $cathvisit is false>>You have not. <<generic>>"No surprise, there are few worshippers in Tappahannock. The god of the city is gold, old ways aren't honored. The nun there, Winnifred. I want you to persuade her to our cause."<</generic>><<else>>You have indeed. <<generic>>"Good, the nun there, Winnifred, I want you to persuade her to our cause."<</generic>><</if>> You ask her if a dedicated sister of the cloth is really the best choice of target. Wouldn't she be particularly resilient to seduction? <<generic>>"Quite the opposite. She wasn't always a devotee to Sommne. It has come to my attention that she was once a worshipper of some canine heathen god not unlike our own."<</generic>> Who is this 'heathen' god? <<generic>>"Hundefreya. She is revered almost exclusively in Keiferhetzen. It's said, certain women of the sect would capture human men from Galendoria, and even Elsteron in the past."<</generic>> What use would human men be to a canine fertility goddess and her zealots? Momma bun's face widens with a smug, devious smile that fills you with some amusement. <<generic>>With joy, she says, "Those men would be forced to imbibe a potion that would render them unable to produce anything but canine heirs. They would then be made to breed the vestals repeatedly. One less man, one more canine."<</generic>> <<if $class is "fighter">>You wonder for the briefest moment if you chose the wrong goddess.<</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">>You ask her if it would work with any race. <<generic>>"I suppose it should. After all, why not?"<</generic>><</if>> [[Continue.|bunnymask3-4]] She readjusts herself, and takes your hand to hers. With the sway of her hips hypnotizing you, she leads you to a more secluded portion of the greenhouse. <<if $class is "fighter">>"In brief, we want you to do what you do best: dick her down into submission. Bring her into the fold. Just imagine how useful that would be." You ask her what she means. <<generic>>"A chapel, dedicated to Sommne, discreetly under our control? If we persuade this Winnifred to our side, it will expand our influence rapidly."<</generic>> A devious plan. But you wonder if you'll be enough. <<generic>>She gives your junk a squeeze. "Have some faith. You're one of us now. The power you hold between your legs will make her yours without trouble. I promise it."<</generic>> You give the plan some thought, and decide to scout the cathedral. <<generic>>"Very well! I leave this task in your capable hands."<</generic>> ''This mission is not yet implemented! But you may visit the cathedral.'' [[Continue.|baccexit]] <</if>> <<if $class is "wizard">><<generic>>"In brief, we want you to convince her to join us. Bring her into the fold. Just imagine how useful that would be."<</generic>> You think a moment and with a smile it dawns on you. A converted priestess could use her chapel and spread Svethra's influence to her flock and beyond. Another vector from which the Bunnymaks could expand. <<generic>>"Smart boy. Shame about between the legs."<</generic>> With a flutter of your eyes you look down at your insignificant sheath. <<generic>>"Considering your 'condition', you have two options. I could grant you a potion that would expand your masculinity abilities and you could seduce Winnifred yourself. Or, you could lay the path for one of our actual breeders to do the work."<</generic>> Actual breeders? <<generic>>"Yes. Males more fit to be called males. Whereas you fall within a more receptive category. Perhaps something like 'boy' is more appropriate." She squeezes your butt. A small reminder that your ass and chest were enhanced as part of your initiation.<</generic>> Who would this person be? <<generic>>"A zebra by the name of Barasa. He's adept at breaking in new women and making them into the liberated broodmothers we need them to be."<</generic>> How would you help them? <<generic>>"Isn't it obvious? You'll help make sure his efforts go as smoothly as possible. Fluff him. Guide his hips. Handle his balls. Rim him. Apply your touch to the woman two, make her experience too full and wonderous to ignore. Help her to the warmth of Svethra."<</generic>> And if you take the potion? <<generic>>"It will temporarily endow you with a large penis. I hope you have the skill to use it. One doesn't become a breeder just because they have a long cock. It requires the experience to employ it as a tool of dominion."<</generic>> You think over your choices. Playing second-fiddle and fluffer to a zebra 'bull'. Or do the work yourself. A chance to feel what a big dick is like calls to you. Even as you recognize your chest as being perky with small B-cup tits. [[You'll do it yourself.|bunnymask3-5]] [[You'll leave it to the professional.|bunnymask3-6]] <</if>> You spend the rest of your day engaging in debauchery with your fellow cultists. Fluids, orgasms, and touch is exchanged. Little thought is given to anything but fucking or refueling from fucking. When you collapse for the evening, you're sore and worn thing. However, when you wake the next morning much of that soreness has dissipated. Not all though... [[Continue.|tappahannockhub]]<<generic>>"I have the utmost confidence you will succeed." <</generic>> Her narrowed eyes put that statement into question, bringing to light its second meaning as pressure to perform. ''This mission is not yet implemented! But you may visit the cathedral.'' [[Continue.|baccexit]]<<generic>>"Sensible. If you wish to speak with Barasa, I am sure he is around here somewhere. It might be prudent to come up with a plan, little $name."<</generic>> ''This mission is not yet implemented! But you may visit the cathedral.'' [[Continue.|baccexit]]