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Anonymous commented at 2011-01-06 12:22:40 » #571960
Story accompanied by author- The quest is done. With the Beast of Colour dead and the True Jewel in your possession, you return to the busy, bustling village in the late hours when it is not so busy, and less-so bustling. The inn in which you are staying is run by a gruff older man, but the establishment itself is well-cared for; the furniture well-made. Closing the door behind you, you notice that the magical lanterns are active, and that you are not alone. The person that sent you on your task is standing beside the window, facing out, wearing little and saying nothing.
They are a curious thing. At first, they appeared as a beautiful maiden, but when they spoke, you came to realize that they were a boy. Then, as it grew obvious that they were not as they appeared, you learned that they were of some fiendish ancestry, and that though they are part human, the ways of humans is unknown to them. Still, they coveted the True Jewel as any might, and sent you to retrieve it in exchange for a boon: power, wealth, a song in your honour, a wrong made right. You asked for none of these things, nothing that required the might and majesty of one with demonic blood, and instead submitted but a simple favour—a single request.
The boy acknowledges you, his eye tracing your form, possibly looking for the jewel, which you’ve carefully hidden away in your epaulettes. Retrieving it, he doesn’t seem to respond, but there’s a subtle flare in his gaze. You place it on a table beside your bed, where the magical lantern emanates, and through the jewel shines light that scatters into colours you thought not possible. It is truly beautiful. When you look back at the boy, what little clothing he had covering his body have fallen, or disappeared. His figure was plain to see before, and still you are amazed at how feminine it is, particularly the region above his thighs and below his hips, which appears soft, round, and full. He speaks.
“I have disrobed as you requested... though it feels odd, as we are both malekind.” He still stands motionless, and feels at his arm, almost self-consciously. “Are all humans this... strange?”
You say nothing. You’re amazed it’s come this far. Demons don’t honour their agreements. You planned for that. Claiming the death of the Beast of Colour and merely knowing the true form of the True Jewel would be enough to earn recognition… the task you’d been summoned for and the reward… that was a dream.
“Though it is a strange request… if it is your desire… then I shall ‘sit on it’.”
Your pants are off. They’re just off. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and you don’t even remember deactivating the magical lights. Maybe they’re clappers.
The innkeeper warned you not to make business with any prostitutes while you stayed there, but this was technically not a prostitute. You’re sure that he meant any kind of fornication, but you’re just as certain that you don’t care.
He approaches and, almost methodically, spins to face away from you. Closer to you now, you can clearly see his butt is large and round, and is no trick of the eye or a matter of position. He sits in your lap, on “it,” and his bottom is soft and warm, and has a bit of give to it. Your cock rests underneath him, between his thighs and under something soft.
The literality of the gesture strikes you after several moments of distracted bliss, and your heart sinks when you realize that the boy must have tricked you: his end of the deal is done. “Is this what you desired?” he says, earnestly.
Not exactly, you think to yourself, and the boy seems to hear it. “Then I misunderstood. What is it, exactly, that you request of me?”
You lean in to whisper into his ear. Idly, you place your arm around him, and you suddenly feel embarrassed and aflame. He opens his mouth slightly as he listens to you.
“You want to… mate with me? Lay with me as you would a woman? I do not think it is possible.”
You intend to prove him wrong. You whisper to for him to lift himself a bit, and he does, and you position yourself below his rear entrance, lifting his tail out of the way. The next few minutes are wordless, filled with muffled sounds and small movements with a great deal of importance as the sun sets fully. He doesn’t complain, even with the lack of lubricant, as you fill his backdoor more and more. Full of verve, and with your hands on his waist, you start to bounce him up and down, sliding in and out maybe a quarter-length with each bounce. You begin to wonder if the demon cast a spell—enchanted you or charmed you with his wiles. But then you see the blush in his cheeks and the hesitation in his eyes, and you realize that he’s as embarrassed and uncertain as you are, no creature of deceit. In the dark of the room, you feel slightly guilty, doing as you are with a fiend, and not just any fiend: a boy fiend, whose own cock has gradually stiffened of its own accord.
Still, you’re blanketed in darkness, barely moving or making a sound at all, aside from the faint tapping of his butt against your thighs, an innocent enough sound that in no way implies the carnal, intimate act that it represents. Droplets of sweat fall down his back, and his faint, blonde hairs stand up on end. His first moan is nearly silent, breathless, but soon his sultry voice starts to escape in quiet tones, and then build louder and louder until they’re at a conversational intensity, which is when the room seems to fill to the brim with the noise, barely able to contain it. He’s not terribly loud, but the silence is broken, and even a faint echo can be heard. There’s a freedom now that seemed snuffed before, and your hands start to wrap around, caressing chest and belly, even as you repeatedly bottom out in his gut, causing momentary breathlessness. You gently hold each nipple, and his back arches, his voice wavering in his throat. He puts his hands up to his chest, wiggles his bottom and hips around a bit, and then falls back into your lap, into your chest, sighing.
You stay still a moment. You’re in to the hilt, but you’re not focused on that. His moans are breathy and low, interspersed with sighs and sharp inhalations through teeth. He’s shivering, his hands on his chest, and he looks up and back at you, his eyes half-lidded and intense, and blows air softly through his lips, as his back passage convulses around you, making you very aware of just what it is he’s responding to. He breathes in through his teeth again a moment before you kiss him, right on the lips, which are soft and trembling, and his hand, which caresses your face for a moment. It’s quick, and after a second your lips part and he kisses softly a few times on your face, before resting back on your chest. He pullsforward again, arching, and brings his shoulders back, and impulsively you grab his shoulders, and begin to thrust up and forward into his cute bum, knocking the wind out of him and earning a girlish squeak of surprise. His breaths coming shorter and shorter still, he twists and gyrates his hips around in your lap, and leans into you again, only this time you lean back yourself, laying flat on the bed. He falls with you, while you’re still fully embroiled inside of him. You continue to slap his cheeks and pound into his butt, even while he’s laying on top, reaching his arms back around you, and then as he turns, and you begin to kiss again, lips locked and backdoor full. Suddenly, he pulls away, and looks at you with a curious grin, before pulling himself back up into a sitting position. Straddling your thighs now and quite literally sitting down on your cock, and then looks over his shoulder at you, eyes again half-lidded.
“Is this what you desired?” he says, as he lifts up his arms by his sides and starts to bounce again, and you have a full view of it pumping in and out, stretching open his ass with each motion. It is now no faint tapping sound as his pliable tush slaps against your groin, and there are no soft, subtle motions as he rises up the full of your length and then sits back down onto it until it disappears through his sphincter. His breaths come heavy now, and he’s sweating more now, his cheeks flushed and blushing, his hair a bit mussed, and his moans unabashed. His hands hold onto his cheeks, spreading himself wider for the penetration, and he rides on top while you pull his hips up and down onto you. Eventually, he looks over his shoulder again and bites his lip.
“May I?”
You wonder what he means for a moment before you see his eyes dart down and in front of him rapidly before looking back up at yours. You nod, and suddenly his eyes go wide in surprise and sharply inhales, and then he closes his eyes and looks away, and his grip on your rod tightens, squeezing it inside, and then a sharp moan accompanies each new splotch of moisture on your legs, until he tops it all off with a sigh. The tightness quickly becomes overwhelming, and you too thrust up into him, sitting up so that he sits in your lap again, placing your arms around him as you pump a full load into his colon.
In a moment of utter exhaustion, you collapse back onto the bed, and he gently pulls you out of him, and then crawls on his knees up beside you and similarly plops facedown, his head on the pillow, his eyes half-open and half-awake, smiling at you while his heart races in time with yours. In a moment of clearly-not-lucidity, he mumbles, “our babies would be quarter-fiend…” before falling off to sleep. You find it amusing enough to laugh, but instead, you also fall asleep.
In the morning, the innkeeper slams his fist into the door for a few minutes before become agitated enough to simply kick it off its hinges. He finds you eagerly railing a young prostitute flat on the bed, and below you your fiendish paramour is still rousing from sleep even as you blow a morning load into their bowels. The innkeeper is quick to toss the both of you out the front door, and you scramble to collect your things and load up your mighty steed for the journey away from town before the innkeeper brutally murders you.
In the moments before the innkeeper rudely interrupted, you had been waking up the fiendling boy from sleep with a combination of whispered assurances and anal sex, and in the semi-lucid waking state he had told you his name was “Maenaydus,” which you agreed to shorten to “Maya.” As you walk alongside your horse, he trails behind for a bit, both of you unsure how to proceed. He notes for a moment that cum is still seeping out, idly amazed by the notion, and lightly complains that his butt hurts. You make a mental note that you’ll need to procure a source of lubricant for the future… future?
Soon Maya approaches beside you and tugs at your sleeve, staring down at the floor. The True Jewel glimmers, adorned in his hairpiece.
“Do you… possess me now?”
He looks up at you, worry in his eyes. You shake your head. His hand touches yours. “May I… accompany you?”
You nod. His arm wraps around yours, and he rests his head on your chest. You walk in this way for a hundred paces in silence until he looks up at you and, in a tone of voice that sounds genuinely puzzled, asks, “do you desire… more of me?”
You stop short, nearly tripping in the effort. Your horse neighs. You think for a moment, and question one last time if, somehow, this fiendling has you spellbound, before you shake away that doubt. A nice ass isn’t magic; it’s just fantastic.
Hurrying him behind a nearby tree and brush, you roguishly pull aside his tail and start your primer on humanity and human behavior by teaching him another human custom: doggy style.
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Story accompanied by author- The quest is done. With the Beast of Colour dead and the True Jewel in your possession, you return to the busy, bustling village in the late hours when it is not so busy, and less-so bustling. The inn in which you are staying is run by a gruff older man, but the establishment itself is well-cared for; the furniture well-made. Closing the door behind you, you notice that the magical lanterns are active, and that you are not alone. The person that sent you on your task is standing beside the window, facing out, wearing little and saying nothing.
They are a curious thing. At first, they appeared as a beautiful maiden, but when they spoke, you came to realize that they were a boy. Then, as it grew obvious that they were not as they appeared, you learned that they were of some fiendish ancestry, and that though they are part human, the ways of humans is unknown to them. Still, they coveted the True Jewel as any might, and sent you to retrieve it in exchange for a boon: power, wealth, a song in your honour, a wrong made right. You asked for none of these things, nothing that required the might and majesty of one with demonic blood, and instead submitted but a simple favour—a single request.
The boy acknowledges you, his eye tracing your form, possibly looking for the jewel, which you’ve carefully hidden away in your epaulettes. Retrieving it, he doesn’t seem to respond, but there’s a subtle flare in his gaze. You place it on a table beside your bed, where the magical lantern emanates, and through the jewel shines light that scatters into colours you thought not possible. It is truly beautiful. When you look back at the boy, what little clothing he had covering his body have fallen, or disappeared. His figure was plain to see before, and still you are amazed at how feminine it is, particularly the region above his thighs and below his hips, which appears soft, round, and full. He speaks.
“I have disrobed as you requested... though it feels odd, as we are both malekind.” He still stands motionless, and feels at his arm, almost self-consciously. “Are all humans this... strange?”
You say nothing. You’re amazed it’s come this far. Demons don’t honour their agreements. You planned for that. Claiming the death of the Beast of Colour and merely knowing the true form of the True Jewel would be enough to earn recognition… the task you’d been summoned for and the reward… that was a dream.
“Though it is a strange request… if it is your desire… then I shall ‘sit on it’.”
Your pants are off. They’re just off. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and you don’t even remember deactivating the magical lights. Maybe they’re clappers.
The innkeeper warned you not to make business with any prostitutes while you stayed there, but this was technically not a prostitute. You’re sure that he meant any kind of fornication, but you’re just as certain that you don’t care.
He approaches and, almost methodically, spins to face away from you. Closer to you now, you can clearly see his butt is large and round, and is no trick of the eye or a matter of position. He sits in your lap, on “it,” and his bottom is soft and warm, and has a bit of give to it. Your cock rests underneath him, between his thighs and under something soft.
The literality of the gesture strikes you after several moments of distracted bliss, and your heart sinks when you realize that the boy must have tricked you: his end of the deal is done. “Is this what you desired?” he says, earnestly.
Not exactly, you think to yourself, and the boy seems to hear it. “Then I misunderstood. What is it, exactly, that you request of me?”
You lean in to whisper into his ear. Idly, you place your arm around him, and you suddenly feel embarrassed and aflame. He opens his mouth slightly as he listens to you.
“You want to… mate with me? Lay with me as you would a woman? I do not think it is possible.”
You intend to prove him wrong. You whisper to for him to lift himself a bit, and he does, and you position yourself below his rear entrance, lifting his tail out of the way. The next few minutes are wordless, filled with muffled sounds and small movements with a great deal of importance as the sun sets fully. He doesn’t complain, even with the lack of lubricant, as you fill his backdoor more and more. Full of verve, and with your hands on his waist, you start to bounce him up and down, sliding in and out maybe a quarter-length with each bounce. You begin to wonder if the demon cast a spell—enchanted you or charmed you with his wiles. But then you see the blush in his cheeks and the hesitation in his eyes, and you realize that he’s as embarrassed and uncertain as you are, no creature of deceit. In the dark of the room, you feel slightly guilty, doing as you are with a fiend, and not just any fiend: a boy fiend, whose own cock has gradually stiffened of its own accord.
Still, you’re blanketed in darkness, barely moving or making a sound at all, aside from the faint tapping of his butt against your thighs, an innocent enough sound that in no way implies the carnal, intimate act that it represents. Droplets of sweat fall down his back, and his faint, blonde hairs stand up on end. His first moan is nearly silent, breathless, but soon his sultry voice starts to escape in quiet tones, and then build louder and louder until they’re at a conversational intensity, which is when the room seems to fill to the brim with the noise, barely able to contain it. He’s not terribly loud, but the silence is broken, and even a faint echo can be heard. There’s a freedom now that seemed snuffed before, and your hands start to wrap around, caressing chest and belly, even as you repeatedly bottom out in his gut, causing momentary breathlessness. You gently hold each nipple, and his back arches, his voice wavering in his throat. He puts his hands up to his chest, wiggles his bottom and hips around a bit, and then falls back into your lap, into your chest, sighing.
You stay still a moment. You’re in to the hilt, but you’re not focused on that. His moans are breathy and low, interspersed with sighs and sharp inhalations through teeth. He’s shivering, his hands on his chest, and he looks up and back at you, his eyes half-lidded and intense, and blows air softly through his lips, as his back passage convulses around you, making you very aware of just what it is he’s responding to. He breathes in through his teeth again a moment before you kiss him, right on the lips, which are soft and trembling, and his hand, which caresses your face for a moment. It’s quick, and after a second your lips part and he kisses softly a few times on your face, before resting back on your chest. He pullsforward again, arching, and brings his shoulders back, and impulsively you grab his shoulders, and begin to thrust up and forward into his cute bum, knocking the wind out of him and earning a girlish squeak of surprise. His breaths coming shorter and shorter still, he twists and gyrates his hips around in your lap, and leans into you again, only this time you lean back yourself, laying flat on the bed. He falls with you, while you’re still fully embroiled inside of him. You continue to slap his cheeks and pound into his butt, even while he’s laying on top, reaching his arms back around you, and then as he turns, and you begin to kiss again, lips locked and backdoor full. Suddenly, he pulls away, and looks at you with a curious grin, before pulling himself back up into a sitting position. Straddling your thighs now and quite literally sitting down on your cock, and then looks over his shoulder at you, eyes again half-lidded.
“Is this what you desired?” he says, as he lifts up his arms by his sides and starts to bounce again, and you have a full view of it pumping in and out, stretching open his ass with each motion. It is now no faint tapping sound as his pliable tush slaps against your groin, and there are no soft, subtle motions as he rises up the full of your length and then sits back down onto it until it disappears through his sphincter. His breaths come heavy now, and he’s sweating more now, his cheeks flushed and blushing, his hair a bit mussed, and his moans unabashed. His hands hold onto his cheeks, spreading himself wider for the penetration, and he rides on top while you pull his hips up and down onto you. Eventually, he looks over his shoulder again and bites his lip.
“May I?”
You wonder what he means for a moment before you see his eyes dart down and in front of him rapidly before looking back up at yours. You nod, and suddenly his eyes go wide in surprise and sharply inhales, and then he closes his eyes and looks away, and his grip on your rod tightens, squeezing it inside, and then a sharp moan accompanies each new splotch of moisture on your legs, until he tops it all off with a sigh. The tightness quickly becomes overwhelming, and you too thrust up into him, sitting up so that he sits in your lap again, placing your arms around him as you pump a full load into his colon.
In a moment of utter exhaustion, you collapse back onto the bed, and he gently pulls you out of him, and then crawls on his knees up beside you and similarly plops facedown, his head on the pillow, his eyes half-open and half-awake, smiling at you while his heart races in time with yours. In a moment of clearly-not-lucidity, he mumbles, “our babies would be quarter-fiend…” before falling off to sleep. You find it amusing enough to laugh, but instead, you also fall asleep.
In the morning, the innkeeper slams his fist into the door for a few minutes before become agitated enough to simply kick it off its hinges. He finds you eagerly railing a young prostitute flat on the bed, and below you your fiendish paramour is still rousing from sleep even as you blow a morning load into their bowels. The innkeeper is quick to toss the both of you out the front door, and you scramble to collect your things and load up your mighty steed for the journey away from town before the innkeeper brutally murders you.
In the moments before the innkeeper rudely interrupted, you had been waking up the fiendling boy from sleep with a combination of whispered assurances and anal sex, and in the semi-lucid waking state he had told you his name was “Maenaydus,” which you agreed to shorten to “Maya.” As you walk alongside your horse, he trails behind for a bit, both of you unsure how to proceed. He notes for a moment that cum is still seeping out, idly amazed by the notion, and lightly complains that his butt hurts. You make a mental note that you’ll need to procure a source of lubricant for the future… future?
Soon Maya approaches beside you and tugs at your sleeve, staring down at the floor. The True Jewel glimmers, adorned in his hairpiece.
“Do you… possess me now?”
He looks up at you, worry in his eyes. You shake your head. His hand touches yours. “May I… accompany you?”
You nod. His arm wraps around yours, and he rests his head on your chest. You walk in this way for a hundred paces in silence until he looks up at you and, in a tone of voice that sounds genuinely puzzled, asks, “do you desire… more of me?”
You stop short, nearly tripping in the effort. Your horse neighs. You think for a moment, and question one last time if, somehow, this fiendling has you spellbound, before you shake away that doubt. A nice ass isn’t magic; it’s just fantastic.
Hurrying him behind a nearby tree and brush, you roguishly pull aside his tail and start your primer on humanity and human behavior by teaching him another human custom: doggy style.
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