Ussa in the Onakke Catacombs (LEWD)

	Whenever she visited Shandalar, Ussa had two main objectives: firstly, check up on Kalonia. Then, double-check to make sure those awful Onakke haven’t come back. The notion that an extinct species of ancient ogres could spontaneously return, as quickly as they had apparently disappeared, wasn’t the most logical event in the Multiverse, but one that prompted enough alarm in Ussa’s mind that she felt compelled to quell it. She had briefly entertained the idea of searching for the origins of the Shandalar slivers first, perhaps even making an effort to curb their numbers, but it was entirely possible that the slivers had just naturally evolved on Shandalar the way they had on Rath. After all, how many different planes had naturally evolved humans? Deciding that the incursion of the slivers was part of a natural course of events, she put the matter aside.
	Only leaving her with the problem of the Onakke. Ever since her first visit to Shandalar, when she heard of their history, she had become fearful that the ogres would somehow come back. Normally, Ussa was not universally opposed to things created by intelligent races, like cities or even weaponry. It was just like a bird building a nest or an ape throwing rocks, only on a larger scale. But the notion of a race that devoted so much effort and time into machines that did nothing but destroy made her uneasy. Shandalar was unique, as all planes were, and when the technology of a race threatened not only the race itself, but the very plane they exist upon, that seemed, to Ussa, like an acceptable point to start disapproving.
	As she approached the Onakke ruins, she was silently grateful for the hundredth time that they were all dead. Probably wiped out by one of their own creations. “Good riddance,” she muttered. Vines and other plant growth had continued to progress over the ruined stone during her absence, cheering her up even further.  To her subsequent disappointment, the one relatively intact building had remained more or less so, with only a few extra bits of grass or, more frequently, weeds peeking up between the stones. The sound of her hooves on the stone echoed as she walked up the steps of the mysterious building. There was a brief hallway, then an entrance leading down into its snaking, labyrinthine catacombs.
	Immediately, she noticed something different as she entered the hallway. In front of the entrance to the catacombs was what she swore looked like the skeleton of an angel. That wasn’t normal. She remembered the angel from her previous vist; she had spent the whole time glaring at Ussa and watching her while she walked around. Although she held no significant personal attachment to the winged woman, her death was still extremely worrying, as during her last visit, she had gotten the distinct impression that the angel had been guarding something. Now, the entrance to the catacombs gaped wide and unprotected, only bits of stone standing between an individual and any sort of ingress. Ussa’s face twisted up in distaste as she sensed latent (and extremely unpleasant) black mana in the air. Whatever had come through here and killed the angel had been immensely powerful, for there to still be a trace of the spell so long after it was used. At least, she assumed it had been a long time – usually corpses becoming skeletons takes a while.
	And hopefully, it had left by now. The hooved Planeswalker stepped over to the catacomb entrance, peering into the darkened, torch-lit depths. She turned to look at one of the ogre skeletons that lined the walls – funny, there was one fewer than last time – and asked, “Are you okay with me going in there?” She gave the dead ogre a generous amount of time to respond or react in some way, and when no such reaction or response was forthcoming, she shrugged and ducked into the passageway.
	This would be new territory for her, as all her previous expeditions had been cut short by the presence of the angel. Going down a declining slope, however slight, with rocks and rubble in the way was a risky proposition for Ussa, so she made generous use of her staff to aid her progression down the winding entrance. Though the slope diminished as she went further and further, it never quite disappeared. Once she had reached the bulk of the catacombs, hallways filled with skeletons and dust would branch off from the main path, each one equally grim and uninviting. But Ussa wouldn’t worry about the side-paths until she discovered just where this main passageway was leading. Thus, she continued on.
	The journey ended up being longer than she thought it would be. Her slow and cautious gait may have been partially to blame for this, but she also suspected that the catacombs were ancient and extensive. Ussa, for her part, had never fully understood the concept of burial in a solid stone construction like this. Surely it was more respectful and fulfilling to bury a dead body in the ground, so that it could rejoin the cycle of nature. Allowing corpses and skeletons to pile up in a place like this, where nature had such a difficult time getting to them, was pointless, in her mind. Ultimately, whatever they built would rejoin the ground, sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. All this stuff did was delay it.
	Confusion as to Onakke burial processes had to be cut short as she reached the end of the primary passageway. The chamber was enormous, even for an ogre, and Ussa felt miniscule in its expansive grandiosity. Great pillars held up the ceiling that she had to strain her neck to look up at, but for such an enormous room, it was relatively barren. In the very center was a stone platform with a…she didn’t really know what to call it. It was some elaborately carved decorative metal construction with a conspicuous absence in the middle. Something, she deduced, was meant to be there. A detail in the carvings unnerved her; there were two human faces depicted, with streams of human skulls pouring from their open mouths. Why human faces? Why human skulls? Wasn’t this a catacomb for ogres? Ussa huffed. Even here, it always had to be all about humans.
	Finding nothing else of any interest in the massive chamber, Ussa turned and started back up. Her ascent to the surface was interrupted about halfway up by an unexpected sound. It sounded like something made of stone being dropped on the ground, followed by muffled cursing. Tilting her head to one side, she turned towards the source of the noise. “Hello?” she asked, her voice louder than she expected it to be as it bounced around the otherwise silent tomb. Wrinkling her nose, she set off down the nearest branching path.
	Once the echoes of her voice had faded from the dusty catacomb air, she heard the sound of running footsteps, coming right at her from down the hallway. She put her hands on her hips, tapping one of her hooves and watching a humanoid shape come dashing towards her. “Get outta my way!” a coarse human voice shouted, carrying a bag over his shoulder and clearly showing no intention of slowing down or stopping to accommodate Ussa’s presence. The satyr rolled her eyes, keeping one hand on her hip and extending her other arm out next to her, letting green mana flow into and strengthen her muscles. Momentum worked against the incoming figure, who was clotheslined by the satyr’s outstretched arm, coming to a complete halt and slamming onto the ground, the bag and its contents falling from his grip and spilling out
	Ussa folded both of her arms under her tightly-wrapped bosom as she inspected the dislodged loot. It seemed to be mostly inconsequential things – bits of stone, a couple of bones, and, she noted with a grimace, a complete Onakke skull. “What are you carrying that around for?” she asked. She was doing her best to appear stern, but she was in truth more intrigued than upset.
	He groaned, putting a gloved hand to his forehead. The rest of his face was covered by a cloth mask, and he was clothed in some kind of leather getup that she guessed was fairly uncomfortable out in the heat of the jungle. “Ugh…fuckin’ crazy…what is…?” Slowly, he opened his eyes and glanced down at her hooves, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What the fuck are you?” he asked, his alarm cutting through the dazed fog caused by his head injury. He crawled backwards, suddenly quite a bit more interested in getting away from her than getting past her.
	“I’m asking the questions,” she said, placing a hoof firmly on his stomach. Good muscle underneath that leather, she thought to herself. “That stuff,” she said, pointing to the assorted junk. “What are you taking that for?”
	It seemed as though the tomb looter was having trouble getting over her hooves. He stared at it as it somehow managed to keep him right in place, despite Ussa not appearing terribly strong, physically. With a grunt, he tried grabbing at her shin and pulling the hoof off of him, only for it to not budge an inch. “Get off!” he shouted in frustration. “What is going on here?”
	Ussa sighed and waited for him to stop struggling before she spoke up again. “I’ll say it again. What did you take that stuff for?” She was fairly sure that there couldn’t be that much evil magic contained in a few bits of rock and a skull, but you can never be too careful when it comes to evil magic.
	“To sell! To make money!” he yelled. “Is this some kind of illusion? What’s the big deal? A guy’s gotta make a living!”
	“Oh,” the satyr said, drawing out the sound. Now this, she had encountered before, first in some of the human cities on Theros and again on countless other planes. “Okay, I get it. This is one of those things, right? Where people want things that don’t do anything?”
	The man growled again, trying once again to shove the hoof off of him. “Yeah, okay, you got me! They don’t do anything, it’s a sham, okay? They’re not real good luck charms! But they look nice, okay, and people want them, so I provide! Is that what this is all about? WHAT ARE YOU?” After a few more moments of pointless shoving, during which his arm muscles bulged against his leather outfit, he lay back, panting. “Look, do you want a bribe or something? Whatever you are?”
	She had drifted off in the middle of his tirade, reminiscing about the Theros marketplaces, so she was surprised by his presence when she noticed that he had stopped trying to free himself. “A bribe?” she asked, tilting her head to one side. “A bribe of…money, right? To…buy things with?”
	Strangely, the man had started pinching himself. Ussa did not have the faintest idea what this meant, and paid it no mind. It was interesting that he had mentioned payment, because she was just thinking of something she could use him for, as long as he was there. A familiar little itch made itself apparent between her legs as she eyed him over again. Oh, he was talking. “…you’re some kind of idiot or what you are, but I’m getting really sick of this. Whatever it is that you want, just tell me so I can give it to you and get on with my life. Okay?”
	“I don’t want a bribe of money,” she said, secretly pleased with herself that she was now speaking his language, so to speak. “I want…” she licked her lips, looking for the right terminology, scouring her memory for it. “An…alternate form of payment! Not-money payment. Yes, is that it?”
	“Yes, sure, that’s it. Just tell me what it is, please.” He said, pulling the mask down off of his face so he could breathe more openly. Ussa noted with no small amount of pleased surprise that not only was he fairly handsome, but he had also started eyeing her extremely prominent bust.
	“Hush,” she said, and stepped over him, then all at once sat down on his stomach. He let out a confused breath as she settled on top of him. “There’s nothing complicated on your pants, right? Nothing that would make it hard to take them off?” She scooted backwards until she was sitting on his thighs and reached down towards the waistband of his pants, fiddling with his belt.
	For a few moments, he was speechless. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re horny?” he asked, incredulously. He started pinching himself again.  “I…no, it’s pretty simple. Wait, hang on, you’re…could you please tell me what you are before you keep going? I’d like to know how okay I am with this before it happens. Oh no, you’re not a demon, are you? Is this going to kill me?”
	His last frantic speculation annoyed Ussa, and she glanced up sharply. “I am not a demon,” she said firmly as she yanked down on his pants. Any other obstacles in the way of her goal were quickly removed as well, his confused and semi-stiff cock springing free into the air of the catacomb. “I am a satyr from Theros, which is another world. You wouldn’t have heard of it.” After taking a moment to inspect the man’s penis, prodding at it a few times, she sighed and reached up to remove the wrap keeping her truly otherworldly tits from the eyes of mortals, letting the creamy landslide fall gracefully onto her chest. The man’s eyes widened and Ussa noted to her delight that his member was starting to perk up, gradually stiffening and rising, as if drawn or compelled by the satyr’s naked, gigantic breasts.
	“Woah.” He said, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I’m starting to care less and less about whether or not you’re a demon. Wow…” he removed his gloves and sat up, reaching out and squeezing her exposed, mountainous girls, or at least however much of them he could get with a single handful each.
	“I just told you I’m not one. You talk a lot,” she said, reaching down and grabbing at his sufficiently hardened member. She used her other hand to pull the underside of her shorts off to one side, baring her entrance long enough for her to guide herself onto him. Her sigh was one of pleasure and relief as she sat down on his hips, full of his hot, throbbing cock. Now that they were free, her hands slid down to the man’s midsection, rubbing at his abdominal muscles through his leather. “Mm. Why do you wear this stuff?” she asked casually as she started rocking back and forth, working that big stiff seed-dispenser with wicked rolls of her hips. “Doesn’t it get hot out in the jungle?”
	Both Ussa’s frankness and the satyr’s sheer erotic power temporarily overwhelmed the leather-clad grave-robber, who found himself speechless with shock and ecstasy as he was so smoothly surrounded and subsequently stimulated by her tight, demanding pussy. The spell passed as a moan left his lips, his hips flexing and pushing up into Ussa’s lewd and merciless gyrations. “Oh, f-fuck…it’s…mmmph!” any further words were cut short as Ussa wrapped her arms around his head and yanked him in and down, burying his face in the doughy prison of her sweet, warm tits.
	“I changed my mind, I don’t care,” she explained, pulling back his hood and stroking his hair. “Forget my question and – mmm! – stop thinking.” Although his sudden, frantic kisses on her bosom were appreciated, she had a much better place his mouth could go. She gently guided his face until his mouth found her right nipple and he wrapped his lips around it, sucking eagerly. “Mmmuch better…” she murmured as the movement of her hips became more aggressive and exaggerated.
	A request that he stop thinking was easy to comply with. Between the two hills of hot, silky-smooth heavy tit-flesh in his face and Ussa’s wild satyr hips and wild satyr pussy turning his cock into a lightning rod of hot, wet bliss, his mind was as close to empty as it was likely to get. He sucked on her hot, stiff nipple on auto-pilot, just pulling as much of it as he could into his mouth and suckling away. Now that his hands were free from the yielding quicksand of Ussa’s bosom, they dove down to her backside and he sunk his fingers into her plush, round rear end. His grip on her luscious, jiggling ass provided him with more leverage as his hips raised their power in an attempt to match her ferocity.
	Alas, the man could not have known all the implications of mating with a satyr of Theros. Although Ussa’s differences from the bulk of her kin were many, she couldn’t deny the genetics, instinct, and raw sexual stamina that had been a part of her species for years, and it was this primal and wholly practical skill set that she put to use. Curling her fingers in his hair as he moaned against her tits, she started slamming her hips down onto his, pummeling them, jumping up and down of their own accord as if she was fucking herself with his cock. His attempts to counter-thrust into this erotic assault were well-meaning and appreciated, but ultimately pointless.
	Each hammering smack down into him made the grave-robber’s head spin. She was doing shit to him he didn’t even think was possible and his balls felt like heavy, swollen rocks that desperately needed their swimming weight to be emptied. His jaws went slack around her nipple and he groaned with helpless pleasure as SHE fucked HIM, using his throbbing shaft like a sex toy as she bounced her hips on it, and it was only another few moments until his eyes rolled back in his head, his hold on her ass became a desperate grip for dear life, and he came harder than he ever had before, bucking and moaning, salivating onto her breast as he unloaded one thick, potent stream after another into the voluptuous satyr’s irresistibly demanding body. Every time he thought he was dry, she’d squeeze another rope out of him, then another, then another. It was either some kind of sexual heaven or some kind of sexual hell.
	The moment that she felt him start to release, Ussa stopped all movement of her hips and merely kept them flush with his, squeezing down onto his flexing member to make absolutely sure it gave her as much as it could. It was those moments, the moments when that hot seed would erupt into her like a geyser and fill her with the future that made her lose it. And lose it she did, biting her lip for a few moments before openly moaning, shuddering and clamping and pulling on his hair as she reached her peak and kept climbing beyond, into the heady orgasmic haze of primal fulfillment that she so craved. Her mind was a blissful daydream as her body was pumped full of life.
	Unfortunately for her, the man only had so much life he could give. His lips slid off of her nipple and he fell back onto the floor, slowing himself enough not to bang his head on the stone. But after that effort, he was done, lying there beneath Ussa, every part of him limp except for his aching, trembling cock that she still held captive between her legs. Only when she was sure he was spent did she gently let it fall out of her, reddened and overworked.
	“Mmmm…” Ussa gave a dumb little giggle as she replaced her shorts, that naughty feeling of being filled with cum always making her feel a little silly. “Thanks a bunch,” she said, leaning down to kiss the man on the tip of the nose. “Don’t try to use those legs for another fifteen minutes or you’ll just hurt yourself. Good luck with your money!” she said as she stood back up, chipper and bright.
	In another moment, she was gone, nothing left of her presence but a semi-conscious grave-robber and the echoing sound of her voice, fading as it bounced down the winding catacombs of the Onakke.