Great [Monster] Journey 16

RSanon Jan 11th, 2014 (edited) 2,410 Never
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  1. A sudden jerk of his head woke Galen, his brain rattling within his skull as his eyes opened to blurry vision. Swallowing, he blinked several times, trying to clear his eyes, but they couldn’t seem to blink out the moisture. A strong wind from his side kept itching his eyes and tearing them up again. He reached out a hand to cover his face and the wind about stopped.
  3. “I apologize for waking you.”
  5. Rubbing his eyes, Galen took a look at the speaker. Sybyll was much closer than he expected, her face hardened but her gleaming eyes soft. His balance felt a little off, too. When he tried to sit up, the world lurched forward and something pulled him back down.
  7. “Galen, please allow me to put you down, first.”
  9. “Put me down?” He looked down. Sybyll was carrying him a good four feet above the ground. He couldn’t stop himself from squirming in surprise, but caught himself and apologized to Sybyll’s resultant glare with a sheepish smile.
  11. Once on the ground, he brushed himself off, testing his legs, then burst into his morning routine. There was no way he’d forget it two days in a row, especially after what it caused yesterday. From the position of the sun, it was only just still morning, so technically it still counted. He finished in record time, ending with a wipe of his brow.
  13. Then the blush came.
  15. He walked in place, playing with his hands. “Oh gosh, Sybyll carried me.”
  17. “Yes, and?” said Sybyll, crossing her arms.
  19. Galen turned to look, but that only grew his blush brighter. While she either was unaware or acted oblivious to it, Sybyll’s body lacked no femininity. Even now, spilling over her crossed arms, her breasts lay full and bragging, the near-skin-tight clothing not doing anything to help the display. Though often in a stoic stare or intense leer, her face curved softly and her cheekbones melted into her jawline. Golden hair whipped across her face, breaking up the gaze bearing down on Galen. About the only thing unappealing about Sybyll was her smell, but even that wasn’t terribly offensive.
  21. What got to Galen the worse, though, was the lack of control he had over his own body. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep after Seira’s story. His eyelids had closed of their own accord when his body finally decided it had had enough. From the time of day, Galen figured they must’ve been carrying him for a while. They’d shared the same burdens as him over the last couple days, yet he was the only one incapable of keeping up. So much for getting stronger.
  23. “How long were you carrying me?”
  25. Sybyll brushed some of the hair out of her face, hooking it behind an ear. “Many hours. Perhaps six or seven.”
  27. He bit down. “And were you traveling the entire time?”
  29. “Yes. We needed to put distance between us and the lamia.”
  31. So they were still chasing. “I guess it was too much to hope we’d be done with them.”
  33. “They were sent by Medusuub herself. I doubt we’ll be done with them until either they’re dead, she’s dead, or I’m dead,” said Seira.
  35. Galen scratched his head. “So, uh, where are we headed again? I got the feeling I asked but I don’t remember the answer…”
  37. “Mallus. It’s about three or four days from here, assuming we keep pace. Two days to the pass, then through it to the Scorched Lands. With luck, only a day of travel within the Lands till we hit Mallus.”
  39. “Good, good. Mallus in the Scorched Lands.” He nodded, crossing his arms. He then flailed them outward, ran up to Seira and grabbed her by the shoulders, shouting, “The Scorched Lands?! Are you serious??”
  41. She took his hands in her paws and removed them, raising an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’re familiar with them, seeing as you’re from Nox.”
  43. “Well, I’ve heard things. And they look really scary the way you drew them on the map!”
  45. “A healthy amount of caution is fine, but fear will become troublesome. I’ve been through the Scorched Lands before, it’s not as bad as you’re thinking it is. Keep your wits about you and you’ll be fine. Kind of the exact opposite of what you’re doing right now.”
  47. He bit his lip, but nodded. “Two days.” He let out a huff and smacked his fists together. “Alright. I’ll just have to prepare myself.”
  49. The group continued north. Seira took the lead a short distance in front of Galen and Sybyll took the rear, keeping a steady watch on the horizon. Mino amused herself with the surroundings, frolicking about as if she were a child. The plains provided her with no end of entertainment. Her exclamations and giggles could be heard by the rest of the party, though no one paid it much mind. Galen found himself idly watching her every now and then, but his thoughts remained inward. He tried pumping himself up about their destination, imagining what the Scorched Lands looked like, why they had their name, what Mallus would be like, and what kind of people or monsters lived there. His concentration never held. More and more his thoughts turned backwards instead of forwards.
  51. He saw Toneruth in his hand and the guard sleeping on the floor. Well, hopefully sleeping. He never checked. A hand moved to his left shoulder and started scratching where there was no itch. He should’ve checked. What if the guard had fallen on his neck the wrong way and Galen never noticed? The guard couldn’t exactly have planned his fall with a damn sword shoved into his head. Galen winced, squeezing on Toneruth’s hilt, the image of it sticking out of the guard’s head wedged in his mind. That sword just wasn’t natural.
  53. Why couldn’t the rescue have just gone smoothly? Galen hadn’t even intended on attacking him. Even when he did, he only knocked the guard out. He’d gone as far as to make sure he was comfortable afterwards. They almost had Seira out of there with no incident. That stupid guard had to do his duty, though. Mino had to drop that iron bar. Sybyll couldn’t have helped, so it was only natural that Galen cover up for them. He didn’t have a choice. The guards were in the wrong. Seira saved him. Seira didn’t belong in a cell. Those were the facts.
  55. So why did he feel sick?
  57. A gust of wind and gleeful shout from Mino snapped him out of his thoughts. He found Toneruth drawn and held out in front of him, his hand squeezing on the hilt so tight the fibers bit into his palm. Galen swallowed, the back of his throat coarse as the saliva went down. He hurriedly sheathed the sword and looked over to Mino, watching her roll down a hill, her slime body full of loose grass. He stole a glance behind himself, wondering if Sybyll had seen him with the sword out, but she gave no indication, her gaze directed to the empty plains to their right. Seira’s head remained facing forward. Sighing, Galen slid his palm over the end of Toneruth’s hilt. His father would tell him to stop mulling over it. ‘Make you choices with confidence and integrity, so you can be proud of them later,’ he’d told Galen. Adventurers in the stories he’d heard always seemed to know the right choice. Dilemmas had been clear in his head. Clear and simple. The bad guy confronts you, and you defeat him. But what do you do when the bad guy isn’t so bad? Do you just sorta defeat him?
  59. Seira was lucky her conflict was so cut-and-dry. Someone had taken her throne from her and killed her family and now she needed to take it back. Speaking of Seira, why was she taking the lead all of a sudden? Ever since he’d joined up with her, she always kept to his side or behind him. His back felt lighter without the constant weight of her eyes on it… and he didn’t like it. With her looking at him, he at least had some idea of what she was thinking about. But the back of her head told him nothing. Did she not want to face them after telling her story? Or was she more eager now? He looked over to Mino. Maybe the answer was even simpler than that. He almost caught up to Seira to ask her why she had such a problem with Mino, but the last time he did that nothing came out of it and he didn’t want her getting mad at him.
  61. The plains kept silent except for nature’s voice as the day passed by. Sunlight beat down on the group, keeping the unrestrained wind at bay and doing its best to warm the group, but a chill still rattled Galen’s spine. Summer had given a good run, but it was coming to a definite end. He climbed hill after hill, only to be greeted with a hundred more, his breathing becoming rougher with each one he passed. The flat areas gave him some time to catch his breath, but the group never stopped for long. Galen had no idea how the lamia would be able to track them through such open and featureless plains like this, but he couldn’t put such a thing past them. Seira clearly didn’t.
  63. The place reminded him of a field back home. That field wasn’t as hilly or windy as where he was now, but the grass flowed in much the same way. Patches of wild flowers popped up every now and then, some bleached white, some purple like the lilacs of Nox. Mino ended up eating one up and watching it dissolve inside her body, though from the look on her face afterwards, it didn’t provide her with whatever she was hoping for. Some of the girls back home would stop to smell the wild flowers, though he couldn’t remember of anyone who ate them raw like that.
  65. Eventually the sun began its trek downward, earning a sigh of relief from Galen. With all that had happened yesterday and the rough sleep he’d gotten last night, he still hadn’t recovered completely. When Sybyll laid a claw on his shoulder and called for Seira and Mino to stop, he though he’d earned an early rest.
  67. That, however, was not what she had in mind.
  69. “We should train while we have light. The lamia likely have long to go to catch up with us, assuming they are even able to track us here.”
  71. Galen laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Train?”
  73. “You are in need of it.”
  75. He pursed his lips, but offered no protest. She wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to learn, either. Only his body protested. Sticking his chest out, he took a deep breath and nodded. Tonight he’d just need to get a good rest. “Let’s do it, then.”
  77. He remembered most of what Sybyll had taught him last time they trained; hand positions, stance, swings and the such. Sybyll only verified his knowledge before engaging him in simple sparring. Holding the pathetically-short broken Toneruth in front of him against Sybyll, he frowned, his eyes wavering between his opponent and the jagged tip. Visions of the whirlwind of Sybyll during her fight with the lamia arose in his head, her flawless technique and staggering speed overwhelming her opponent without a hint of effort from the lizardman. Anything she threw at Galen would have to be severely dumbed-down. His teeth grated together. Another reminder of his own lack of ability. When he threw himself at Sybyll, he did so with a shout to drown out the thoughts of inadequacy that gnawed at his mind.
  79. Seira and Mino both watched as they sparred, providing their own sort of commentary. Seira kept mostly silent, her face creasing with concentration at their movements and offering a “hmph” when something particular caught her interest. Mino was full of “ooh”s and “ahh”s, not unlike a child. Even in the midst of combat, Galen could feel a heated glare from Seira directed toward Mino, one that grew harsher as her exclamations grew more excited. Eventually, he lost concentration and slipped up, allowing a cut from Sybyll to dig into his upper chest. A familiar chill gripped him, the shock of pain coming out of his body with a grunt.
  81. The heated glare vanished.
  83. Galen staggered back, holding the injury and cursing himself as Sybyll chastised him. Her words rattled around his head with the thundering beat of his heart. Blood rushed to his face as he fought to keep from falling to a knee. Her tone, calm and analytical as always, made his heart burn even hotter.
  85. “You will not get a second chance in true combat. You must remain focused, no matter the circumstance.”
  87. “I know!” he shouted, stomping forward. “I’m sorry I don’t have a thousand years of experience like you!”
  89. Her eyes narrowed. “My experience has nothing to do with your ability.”
  91. “Then stop talking down to me! Just because you’re better doesn’t mean you can be so condescending! I know I can’t focus or fight like you, but it’s not like I can’t learn!” He brought up his sword, his face burning red.
  93. “It is not my intention to be condescending.” Sybyll’s gaze focused to glare for a moment, then softened as she sheathed her sword. “You are not in the proper state to learn anything. We will continue another time.”
  95. “I am too in the proper state! Just come at me again!”
  97. “No. It would do no good. Put your sword away.”
  99. “I can’t become stronger without training! I won’t stop!”
  101. “I reiterate: training would not help you now.” She crossed her arms and looked down at him.
  103. What authority did she have to tell him to stop? He was just getting into it, and now she wants it to end? What does ‘proper state’ even mean? He stomped over to her, his teeth digging into his lower lip so hard it went numb and his eyes alight with anger. Yet all the fury in his glare couldn’t make a dent in her composure. He had not the energy nor the patience to hold his stance, eventually slamming Toneruth back into its scabbard with a huff. He couldn’t admit it now, but part of him knew she was right, and as his emotions subsided, that part grew more and more convincing.
  105. “Fine.” He looked away to the ground, then over to Seira. “Can you fly up and look for some sort of cover? The wind’s freezing here.”
  107. She nodded and launched herself skyward, those bat-like wings spreading and beating in sync. This was the first time he’d actually seen her lift off with them. The sight took some of his anger away from him, curiosity filling his gaze as he followed Seira’s ascent. She kept to the air for a short time, her eyes locking on to something in the distance before coming back down.
  109. She landed softly on her paws and pointed in the direction she’d been looking. “There are some trees down there. May not be a full forest, but it should offer something.”
  111. “Alright. Let’s head over there.” He rubbed his arms, shivering as goosebumps tickled his skin.
  113. They made it to the trees just as light began to fade. The concentration of trees wasn’t as thick as Galen would’ve liked, but it was still much better than trying to rest in the bare plains. Seira had said there probably wasn’t a full forest, but from where Galen stood, it might as well have been. Trying to push the cold from his mind, Galen pushed forward into the forest until he could barely see the plains they’d entered from, found a large tree to block the wind, and plopped himself down.
  115. Mino sat next to him, flashing a smile before making herself comfortable. Sybyll surveyed the area then sat down, cross-legged, a short ways from Galen, facing the direction they’d come from. Scrunching up his mouth, Galen watched her a moment, swallowing words that kept trying to make their way up his throat. He leaned his head back against the tree, looking skyward.
  117. “I’m heading off for a bit. You should collect some firewood whether we use it or not, Galen. We don’t know when we’ll find a place like this again,” said Seira.
  119. He nodded, keeping his eyes on the sky and heard Seira take off, brushing against the upper branches and leaves as she flew away. He briefly wondered what she was up to, but kept the thought to himself. Maybe one day he’d ask her.
  121. Just as he was about to take off his pack and get comfortable, he realized waiting to collect dry wood wouldn’t make things any easier on him. Light was fading fast and once he started nodding off he’d probably forget about it altogether without some nagging. And nagging was one of the things he quite happily left at home. Groaning, he stood up, adjusting the pack on his back. When he started to step away though, something snagged at his sleeve.
  123. Mino stared up at him with an exaggerated frown. “Stay and tell me stories.”
  125. “I’ll do that as soon as I’m back. I don’t want to be looking for dry wood in the dark.”
  127. “’Kay. I can look too!”
  129. “Wouldn’t the wood just get wet when you touched it?”
  131. “Ummm.” Her jaw worked back and forth. “Maybe…”
  133. Galen allowed himself a smile at that. “I won’t be long.”
  135. He started scanning the ground around Sybyll and Mino, moving further and further out when he couldn’t find what he wanted. If he was going to be storing wood for later, he’d need to find sticks both long and thick enough for a fire, but at the same time the right size to go in his pack, not rotten or infested with bugs, and most of all, dead and dried. He grumbled to himself after fifteen minutes of searching came up with only a couple good candidates. The trees nearby must’ve all been healthy or he was just unlucky. He’d need to set out a little further to find a downed or dead tree.
  137. With all this time alone, Galen’s thoughts began to wander from wood and turn inward. He couldn’t get the image of that sleeping guard from his head. The worst part was, he didn’t know why. He hadn’t done anything wrong or unjustified. He hadn’t even injured the guy. Yet, there was his limp, faintly breathing body, his eyes shut and face looking like he’d done nothing but dozed off into a nap. An itch arose on his left shoulder and he scratched it vigorously. He wondered if people dreamed in the kind of sleep Toneruth put them under. Did he somehow give the guard nightmares? With a grunt, Galen pulled at his hair and shook his head. All this over-thinking was stupid. He needed to put the event in the past and look forward.
  139. A rather unnatural rustling overhead dropped it from his mind as his gaze shot upward, his hand going to Toneruth on instinct.
  141. He froze in place, eyes darting around the treetops, trying to discern movement beyond the swaying of branches and leaves in the wind. The dim light forced him to squint, but even after many seconds of searching he could find nothing. He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Slowly, he relaxed his grip on Toneruth, slacking his shoulders and turning away from the direction of the noise. Must’ve been a fluke.
  143. The second time he heard it, it came with a hiss directly above him. Toneruth came out without a moment’s hesitation, his heart rate shooting through the roof as he called out, “Who’s there?”
  145. The trees answered with a rustling of leaves but no words. Galen took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from getting too worked up, but an unseen enemy was much more nerve-wracking than a known one. He found his feet carrying him backwards, away from the last location of the noise and toward where his companions sat. They were a little ways off, but with a short run they’d be within yelling distance. With the light as-is and help so close, there was no point in facing whatever was out there on his own. It certainly wasn’t worth a few sticks, either.
  147. Swallowing loudly, Galen continued backward, glancing at the ground behind him to check his footing every now and then. Images of the potential enemy started popping up in his head. It was almost certainly a monster, stalking him as stealthily as this. The air was thick with its hunger. Galen flared his nostrils to try and dislodge the scent from his nose. If it was making noises from the treetops, it would have to be a flying or climbing monster, too. One that enjoyed the thrill of a hunt. He couldn’t allow himself to hope it was a weaker monster. No, the feral heat stagnating the air said it was anything but.
  149. He couldn’t stand the tension any longer. He had to make a break for it. In one swift motion, he spun on his foot, sheathed Toneruth, and broke into a run.
  151. Not two steps into his run, he heard a sharp, silent whistle cut through the air. Before he could even register what it meant, a sudden pain stung at his right leg, causing him to stumble. His gaze went to the injury, finding a small, white-ish barb sticking out of his thigh. He yanked it out, wincing as a small stream of blood came out with the barb. Some sweet-smelling, sticky goo covered the barb, spreading to Galen’s hand when he inspected it. A poison? If that was the case, he needed to get back before it crippled him. He discarded the barb, but something nagged at him about it, like he’d seen something like it before.
  153. Setting his legs afire, he burst into a run again. At least, he tried. He never made it to full speed.
  155. The poison slammed into him like a club to the gut, though nowhere near as painful. Exactly the opposite, in fact. He became hyper-aware of everything touching his skin, the individual fibers of his clothing, the straps of his pack digging into his shoulders, how tight his pants hugged his crotch, and the sleek bite of the wind. Each step came with great difficulty as he had to force a hundred new sensations from his mind, concentrating as hard as he would putting thread through a needle. It was then, his mind nearly numb, a hand to his chest to clutch his beating heart, stumbling through the forest, recognition washed over him. He HAD seen that barb before.
  157. On a manticore’s tail.
  159. Something heavy slammed into his back, forcing him to the ground and knocking the wind from him.
  161. “Oof!”
  163. He rolled onto his back, gasping for air, but before he could get up two heavy paws pinned his shoulders and a tail coiled itself around his legs. A grinning, panting shadow loomed over him, the stench of its lust and sweat clogging up Galen’s nostrils. He couldn’t make out all the details, but he knew that grin, that braid, and those twitching ears.
  165. “Seira.”
  167. “Hello.” She spoke it not as a greeting, but rather a meal blessing. Her red eyes practically glowed with confidence and fervor.
  169. He wanted to tell her to get off, but a rush of memories overwhelmed him for the moment. Pleasant memories. Frightening, too, but the fear wasn’t what he remembered most. He would’ve placed a hand over his heart to keep it from bursting free of his chest had Seira not had him pinned. That look in her eyes, though--that was what got his mouth moving. Not an ounce of mercy bled from them, only rabid heat. Dominance.
  171. “…Hi,” he said. “Uh, you know it’s kind of late, I’m a little tired, and I think you may have injured s--“
  173. She squeezed his shoulders with those cushy paws of hers, sending unexpected shocks of sensations through his body. That poison made any sort of touch drive him wild.
  175. “I would’ve thought you’d know better than to try to talk yourself out of this.” She lowered her head until it was inches from his face. “You’re traveling with monsters, Galen. You seem to have forgotten that.”
  177. Sweat dripped from her face onto his, falling down his cheek to his neck. He scrunched his lips together. Seira held his eyes captive with her own, the red glint the only thing he could make out in the faint light. To his surprise, his next thought was not of their energy or their salacity. No, what captivated Galen was their beauty. Even in the midst of her hunt, they looked beautiful. Galen squinted. He’d seen Seira as many things: powerful, quick-witted, luscious, and determined… but beautiful? What put that thought there?
  179. He squawked when Seira collected his wrists in one paw and pinned them to the ground above his head, lowering her hips to straddle him as she removed his clothes. They were gone in an instant, but even the act of pulling them off struck him with waves of pleasure. All he could do was grit his teeth and endure it. By the time he was fully naked, he was at full mast, some parts of him more eager to begin than others.
  181. “Is that the venom working, I wonder?” said Seira, lightly stroking his member with her free paw. “Or can you simply not restrain yourself around me?” Her claws dug into his wrists, sharp pricks of pain contrasting the sea of pleasure he was sinking under. She leaned all the way forward so her breasts pushed against his chest, smooth as silk and soft as pillows, a massage of their own on his exposed skin. He lifted his head to look down across her back, seeing that dangerous tail of hers flux as the coils around his legs shifted. A light nibble on his ear forced him to close his eyes. He took in a sharp breath and moaned.
  183. Her words came out in a seductive whisper. “You’re so cute when you’re helpless. But you’re a little too receptive, I think.”
  185. The nibble turned into a bite and Galen arched his back in pain, a weak whimper escaping his mouth. Seira withdrew, sitting back up and digging her claws into his chest. The four points of contact went from tingling, to freezing, to burning as her claws went deeper. An image of her raking them across his skin ran through his head, making him gasp and his eyes fly open. He struggled to free his wrists and his legs, but her tail and paw held fast.
  187. “Much better.” Her mouth hovered over his neck. “I can smell it now, raw fear mixed with anxiety and that tiny hint of anticipation.” Her face filled his view again. “I know you enjoyed what I did to you.” A soft chuckle blew from her mouth over his cheeks. “Not simply because I know how good I am, but because of what happened at the bridge. You remember the bridge, don’t you?”
  189. Galen’s body stiffened as if turned to rock. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but had assumed she simply didn’t notice.
  191. “That’s right. I see the recognition in your look. The orcs smelled arousal, Galen. Sniffed you out like a cat would a rat.” Her tail tightened its coils around his legs. “But where could that arousal have possibly come from? You were busy hanging from the bridge. How could anything else have been on your mind?” The tip of her tail latched onto his wiggling toes and began to suck, thick juices oozing from the entrance and covering his skin. He shivered, squirming in her grasp, but couldn’t form a coherent response.
  193. “I--I--Uh, the water, the, ahhh…”
  195. Her tail swallowed most of his foot, sucking harder and harder. “Fufufu… you don’t have to act so enamored for my sake.” Grin growing wider, she grinded her hips onto his crotch, watching him squirm as the poison sent indescribable bliss through his body. His manhood, hard as diamonds, began leaking onto his stomach where Seira had it pinned. She looked down at it, then scooted forward so it stuck out behind her, brushing up against where her tail met her body.
  197. When her tail detached from his foot, his eyes went as wide as they could. He may not have been able to see what was happening behind her back, but he knew exactly where that tail was headed next. His breaths turning to pants, slowed only by Seira’s weight on his stomach. Her smile darkened at his reactions, leaning forward to gaze deep into his eyes. The paw on his wrist gripped tighter and sent fresh waves of pain down his arms. It was at that exact moment, him wincing from the pain, that her tail swallowed his member. A gasp died in his throat. His mouth opened wide. Each time he tried to take in air, he instead choked as if his body had temporarily forgotten how to breathe.
  199. Galen’s senses left him. The wind, the time of day, the manticore atop him, the bleeding cuts in his wrists and arms, all forgotten--all but that tail. Countless folds enveloped and squeezed his member, a prelude massage to the chorus of pleasure about to come. Copious amounts of her tail juice leaked out and smothered his crotch. When she slowly began pumping him, he was so lubed up her tail glided across his skin.
  201. “Aaahh…” he moaned, unable to keep from smiling. His brain finally caught up with everything that was happening. And it decided it wanted more. Galen struggled at his bonds even in the throes of pleasure. He wanted to seizes those breasts sitting before him, kiss that lithe neck, embrace that proud body--anything! But his struggling only drew more amusement from Seira and the harder he fought, the faster her tail moved. Like a demonic kiss on his member, the tip of her tail sealed around his shaft while the insides squirmed and squeezed. It devoted itself to his pleasure, only driving him madder with desire to reciprocate.
  203. He cut off mid-moan, thrusting into her tail as his manhood ignited with sensitivity and bliss. His seed shot deep into the waiting tail, the orgasm coming with such haste he almost didn’t realize it. He’d been so enraptured in her grin, her milking, and his own frustration that his release nearly blindsided him. A satisfied sigh escaped Seira’s lips as she accepted his semen. Without skipping a beat, her tail slammed down on him, swallowing even his balls, and began to suck. It didn’t slide up and down him like before, but smothered him in a hundred wonderful touches, massages, and caresses, all the while growing tighter and tighter. The suction was so powerful he feared it might draw his very soul from him, though at this point, he didn’t think he’d even mind such a thing.
  205. Seira began grinding her hips into him again, the slickness on his stomach showing he wasn’t the only one aroused. She leaned over, licking at his shoulder, sending shivers up his spine. With the poison in his body, he could feel every tastebud on her tongue as she drew it across his skin.
  207. “Enjoying yourself, are you?”
  209. He yelped when her teeth sunk into the spot she’d just licked, gnashing his teeth together to keep sane. She held him in her mouth for several seconds, letting the pain sink in before withdrawing. Moving a claw up to his neck, she watched his eyes light up with a mix of terror and anticipation, all the while her tail bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He thrust his hips upward, trying to delve deeper into her tail, but his motions were pointless. Seira had already shoved her tail as far onto him as it would go. Her face animating with intention, she began pushing her claw harder against the skin on his throat and, at the same time, constricting her tail harder on his shaft.
  211. How he had lasted so long with the poison coursing through his veins, he couldn’t possibly guess, but he was again at his end. His vision went white with pleasure, his thrusts growing feverous as a second climax ripped through his body. Seira’s tail eager swallowed everything he had to offer and more. Her paw moved from his neck to rest over her heart, her eyes closing in contentment as she took in every drop of his release.
  213. Once finished, Galen slumped onto the ground, breathing as if he had never known air before, limbs limp and numb. He had to be done. There was nothing left in his body.
  215. Yet Seira never removed her tail.
  217. “What will happen if you keep coming, I wonder?” Her smile grew further, showing Galen two rows of gleaming teeth. “Would you be able to survive that?”
  219. His face twitched involuntarily from the continuing pleasure as he gaped at her. “Y-you’re joking, r-right?”
  221. “Fufufu.” She lowered her head, taking in the scent of his panic and sweat. Her ears perked up as she inhaled. “I wonder…”
  223. Any response was cut off as her tail began pumping, demanding him to grow hard again. Somehow, his body responded. Somehow, he was every bit as sensitive as he was before… if not moreso. Seira laughed as recognition dawned on him, clear on his face. The poison was keeping him going! And if she kept this up, his body would continue to give in, over and over, until there really was nothing left of him.
  225. “C’mon, Seira, c-cut it out,” he mumbled through the moans.
  227. “Are your sure?” Her grin widened to proportions he didn’t think possible. “Let’s see about that.” She slid off him, untangling her tail from his legs but keeping her paw on his wrists. She knelt down next to him, watching his reaction to seeing her tail on his member for the first time that night. He choked back words, his lips quivering at the sight. Her tail was constantly dripping, the goo now covering his crotch, smeared all over where her body had been grinding into him. At the moment, it was only latched onto his head, though it hadn’t weakened its ministrations in the slightest. He could still feel that incredible suction and its caressing walls eager to milk him again.
  229. “Now all you have to do is pull it off. That’s it. I won’t even prevent you from trying.” She laid a paw on his chest, lightly drawing those sharp claws across his skin. One dipped into the earlier cuts she’d left, making him gasp from the quick shock of pain. She then released his wrists and rested her head on a paw, waiting.
  231. The sudden blood rushing back to his hands made them tingle. His first reaction was to reach for the tail, but as his hands grew closer, he hesitated. He was weak, sure, but he was able to move his arms just fine. His breathing was heavy, but his lungs weren’t hurting. That tail felt amazing on his cockhead, too. It wasn’t like he was about to die. It couldn’t hurt to leave it on there a little while. How often did he get to experience three orgasms in a row, anyways?
  233. “Really, Galen, it’s not that hard. Just grip the tail and pull it off. Here, I’ll help.”
  235. She took his hands in a paw and placed them on her tail. It was slick beneath his fingers, like leather damped with oil. He wrapped his fingers around it in a light grip, but still didn’t pull. Staring at his hands, he kept thinking about last time, how he shoved her tail onto him and how wonderful that felt. How it would feel to have those attentive folds on his shaft again, how his entire member would once again be drowned in pleasure. The fact it only held his head now drove him crazy. His grip on her tail tightened. He made his choice.
  237. With a grunt, he shoved her tail all the way down to his base, thrusting upward into it at the same time.
  239. “That’s what I thought.”
  241. With a lackadaisical smile at his grip, she grabbed her tail over top his hands and pushed it up and down his member with him. He couldn’t bring himself to look anymore, fearing he would succumb right away if he did. Touches like fingertips stroked him from tip to base. Pink, malleable folds drowned every inch of his member in licks. Her tail squeezed almost to the point of crushing him but still slid up and down with ease. Seira and Galen pumped it together, over and over, until he was at the point of bursting. Gritting his teeth, he hilted into it, pressing it as hard as he could into his crotch.
  243. “Oh, sweet goddess!” he cried. The third orgasm almost blacked him out, exploding out his cock with such force he was afraid he released something more than just semen. He threw his hips as high into the sky as they would go, spurting load after load into that glorious tail of hers, wanting never to stop. Seira licked her lips with hunger, sucking him through the orgasm in order to make sure he left nothing behind. For several seconds past his last spurt, she continued to pump her tail over his shaft. Only when his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth was she satisfied he had nothing left.
  245. Her tail came off his member with a soft pop, leaving it raw and exposed to the elements. Somehow, it was still hard, too. When the wind picked up, he shivered, the goop on his manhood making it feel colder than it really was.
  247. “Figures you’re still able to go. But that’s enough, I think. For now.” She wiped most of the goo off him with her paws, using his shirt to clean up whatever she missed. He didn’t need to worry about any spare semen; her tail had definitely cleaned up all of that.
  249. Galen was still in a daze, blinking and trying to calm his heart while Seira put his clothes back on. Only when she lifted his head and waved a paw in front of his face did he return to the present.
  251. “Welcome back. We need to get you back to Sybyll before she gets worried. Something tells me she’s not someone I want to get on the bad side of.”
  253. “Oh-okay.”
  255. “Do your legs work?”
  257. “Let me see.”
  259. He brought his knees up, then tried to push off the ground, but he might as well have been trying to lift a boulder. He couldn’t even get his rear up. Grunting, he surrendered.
  261. Seira, though, couldn’t hide her smile. “As much as I expected.” She took one of his arms and hooked it around her neck. Grabbing his side with a paw, she lifted him up, letting his legs just barely touch the ground for support. Whenever Galen attempted to put any real weight on them, he’d wince and start to collapse again.
  263. “You better learn how to walk again, or I’ll have to carry you.”
  265. Blushing, Galen puffed out his cheeks and redoubled his efforts. After a minute, he finally found his feet. Though the steps were slow and short, he still managed to move forward. Pushing his chest out as much as he could, he looked over to Seira and smiled. Closing her eyes, she smiled back.
  267. “Your cheeks are red,” he said, his voice raspy.
  269. She jerked her head back, touching a paw to each. “What? No they’re not!”
  271. He chuckled. “They are now.”
  273. She growled and dropped him, letting his body collapse like a potato sack as it hit the ground. “Oww,” he groaned, rubbing his shoulder where he hit the ground first.
  275. “Hmph.” Seira bent down, picking him back up and draping his arm across her shoulders like before. “You shouldn’t play tricks on me when you can’t even stand up straight.”
  277. “Or maybe now is the best time to do it. You weren’t expecting that one.”
  279. She sighed, watching the forest ahead as she guided them through it toward the rest of their group. Travel was slow-going, but Galen didn’t mind. He had more of his wits about him unlike last time Seira had to assist him like this. He saw much more of her actions, noticed the care with which she walked and exactly how close she hugged his body to hers. He wished there was more light so he could’ve seen her expression, too. His legs were pretty much dead underneath him, and only after a couple minutes of walking could he really begin to feel them again. Their amble through the forest brought back other memories of times when it was just the two of them. That time didn’t last long, but now that he thought about it, he didn’t mind it at all, even with all their differences.
  281. And while they had the time alone, he decided he needed to say something.
  283. “I can’t do things your way.”
  285. Their pace slowed, Seira glancing over to Galen. “What was that?”
  287. His lips drew into a resigned smile. “I tried. Back in the jail, the guard caught onto us after Mino dropped that iron bar. I knocked him out with Toneruth.” He shook his head gently. “And now I know. For some reason, I can’t just do whatever’s necessary. Those rules of mine you find so silly--I can’t live without them.”
  289. His step faltered, but Seira pulled him up, adjusting his arm around her neck. A small smile tugged at her face. “I think I can settle for calling you an idiot for now. You did what you had to, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of for it. If you ask me, you should be proud.”
  291. “I am proud of what we managed to do… just not how we--how I--did it.”
  293. She shook her head. “Geez, you’re helpless on your own. Good thing you have me.”
  295. His gaze went skyward, watching the specks of stars through the gaps in the trees, letting the rustling of the leaves tickle his ears. “I think you’re right about that.”
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