Yinglet Princess (NSFW)

Yinglet Princess
>Be mercenary in Arisota’s Hold
>You’ve done it all
>You fought for both sides in the Beletan-Dinnlan War
>You were a bodyguard for the Child Emperor of Kalleg Dar
>You’ve privateered the Saltsea on behalf of Baramor, plundering Akalosian merchantmen
>You even fucked a Baxxid once
>Nothing to do with wetwork
>It just sort of happened at a party and you like to bring it up
>A lot
>Without provocation
>People be all like ‘whaaaaat’
>Anyway
>Your farce begins when a nuisance of Yinglets (‘nuisance’ being the local term for more than 3 Scavs, or a ‘stooge’, but less than 10, which is a ‘headache’) approaches you
>You recognize one as the bigwig of a local enclave (AKA a ‘future bonfire’)
>”Venerated warrior Anon! We have heard tales of your greatness!”
>You belch and scratch your crotch
>”We have come to humbly request your services”
>You ask what kind of swamp muck they’ve been eating that would make them think you’d work for Scavs
>Fuckin’ Scavs
>”Ze purple kind!” one of the guards says before being swatted by his boss
>Your question is answered by a sack full of coins
>Gold ones
>Your favorite
>Ah, fuck it
>”We need you to escort one of our females to ze enclave in Val Salia. Upon her safe delivery, you will be given zhree more sacks like zhis one. We would do it ourselves, but…”
>He pointed to one of his guards unsuccessfully trying to swallow a copper mug
>You understand, asking where she is
>"She snuck into your bag five minutes ago" he said, pointing at the beaming, twitchy ratbird nesting in your rucksack "You weren't our first choice, but she seems to have made ze decision for us."
>”He has biiiiiiig muscles!" she trills, her eyes darting up and down your body
>You shrug and pick up the gold
>What could go wrong?


Part 2 of ?
>On the road
>The Scav chick is being surprisingly cooperative, staying in your rucksack, squirming on occasion, and just generally being very quiet and easygoing
>It dawns on you that something is terribly wrong
>You stop and pull open the sack, fearing that the little tard has smothered herself and cost you several fat whore's worth of gold
>To your shock and amusement you see that she had somehow managed to tangle herself in your camping chordage, her snout firmly bound shut by a length of hemp
>She looks up at you, her eyes wide and glossy as a blush burns in her cheeks
>You uncoil the rope from around her snout
>"Haaaahn~" she sighs, a strand of saliva clinging to the bit of rope between her jaws "Ohhhh nooooo I'm allll tied up...if anyone big and ~strong~ were to come along, they could do *anyzhing* zhey wanted. I wouldn't be able to stop zem!"
>You consider cutting her out of the mess she's in
>Then you consider setting up camp without a full length of chordage
>Fuckin' Scav
>You pull her out of the sack to untangle her
>The more you look at it, the less it looks like a tangle, it's too clean, too intricate, with bindings overlapping and entwining over pressure points. In fact, the more you look at it, the more the wrapping resembles that weird shit you saw in a Kalleg Darr brothel
>"Aahhhn~" the Yinglady moans "Ooh you can pick me up so easily! So strooooooong~"
>Luckily you know exactly how to get out of these kinds of bindings...
>...long story
>Anyway
>A pull here and a twist there and the Scav drops out of the rope and onto the ground
>"Awwww..." she huffs as you coil the chord and put it back in your bag
>You ask her if she can control herself around the rope for the rest of the trip
>"Nope!"
>You tell her that her bag privileges have been suspended, from here on out she's walking
>"Oh, but what if I see a shiny and run off? I could get lost! You'll have to put a *leash* on me~!"
>It's gonna be a long trip


Part 3 of ?
>It’s late
>You set up camp in a secure location, sure to make note of likely points of attack and potential exits
>A nearby river runs fast and deep enough to escape in, but not rough or noisy enough to be dangerous
>You pitch your tent (heh) and set up sleeping quarters, the Yinglady needs her privacy
>Whether she wants it or not
>You look up and see her fucking around in the river, trying to catch fish or something
>That’ll be day
>A shrill scream draws your attention, you look over and see her head in the mouth of a rather large catfish
>Fuckin’ Scav
>You rush over and grab the catfish by the tail
>You grab her body and pull her head out of its mouth, followed shortly by you dashing the fish’s brains out on a nearby rock
>”Oh Anon!” she cheers “You saved me! You’re so brave and strong!”
>You killed a fish out of water, truly you are the hero the Southlands deserve
>Regardless, catfish is on the menu now, so props to her
>Later you and the Yinglady have eaten and are settling down for bed
>You’re laying awake in your sleeping bag, listening to her fidget and fuss from her portion of the tent
>Feeling awkward, you jokingly ask her where she learned to fish like that
>”I learned from ze best fisher in all ze enclave!” she announced, proudly “He would always say ‘if a little worm can catch a big fish, zhen a ME can catch a HUGE fish!’ He was so wise!”
>Retarded as that sounds, you concede that the catfish in your belly doesn’t lie
>Still, you tell her to stick to collecting mushrooms and berries or whatever Yinglets eat
>She giggles “I like mushrooms!”

Yinglet Princess Part 4 of ?
>You’re in a brothel, enjoying a pint of beer
>A thicc lady with a weird accent is rubbing your chest, her long painted nails pricking your skin, occasionally tweaking your nipple as she whispers incredibly lewd things into your ear
>Like, holy shit what even is this chick’s deal?
>You’re a double-crossing, tyrant-sitting, pirate-merc
>Also you fucked a baxxid, once
>Remember that?
>Yeah you do
>Totally scored that knife-snake slash, boi
>…Why won’t she write you back…
>Anyway
>The shit this chick is saying makes even you blush, a little sick even
>Hard as a rock, too
>She notices
>”Look at zat!” She exclaims, squeakily “Now ZAT’S a mushroom! Mmmm…looks veeeeery filling! I wonder if I have enough room for it! One way to find out…”
>She traces a pointy nail down your belly, tracing your abs, before grabbing your cock
>Ow
>OW
>FUCK OW WATCH YOUR NAILS FUCK
>You wake up, it’s dark and you’re still in the tent
>The thicc woman has been replaced with a spindly, naked ratbird
>Yinglady is sitting on your stomach, her tiny, bumpy, clawed fingers wrapped around your dick
>”Oh!” She says, pretending to be surprised. “Zhis isn’t a huge, hot…*juicy* mushroom! Zese aren’t big, heavy berries! Oh, I am so silly! So so silly!”
>You tell her to get off
>”Make me ‘get off’” She says, smiling
>…
>A few minutes later and she’s safely immobilized, ornately wrapped up left-over chordage again, far far away on the other side of the tent
>she doesn’t even pretend like she’s not enjoying it
>A hundred miles to Val Salia
>Fuckin’ Scav

Yinglet Princess Part 5 of ?
>On the road again
>The past few nights have been uneventful, Yinglady hasn’t ‘looked for mushrooms’ once
>”Anon,” she says, sitting on your shoulder. “I wanted to apologize”
>You’re immediately skeptical
>”I’m sorry I did such a bad job wiz ze handfun” she says “Your dick was just so big and weird-looking, I got a little excited!”
>Big?
>Well, you seize any and all opportunities to brag, so–
>Wait
>Weird-looking?
>”I’m usually much better at ze handfun, and ze mouzfun,” she says, apparently proud of herself. “And ze funfun, well, I’m pretty much ze best funfun-er in alllll ze enclave. Zhat’s why I’m going to Val Salia, you know, to teach zhose girls a zhing or two.”
>You don’t think it’s that weird-looking. Like, it’s got those veins on the side that looks like a Beletan roadmap, but other than that you think it’s normal
>”Patriarch Halflin was talking about it ze ozer day, actually. He said to me ‘Zhose ladies in Val Salia talk all fancy and dress like flatfaces, but zey don’t know anyzhing about pleasing lads!’ Oh, flatfaces is what we call humans but not to zheir faces.”
>Okay, maybe the head is a little funny-looking
>“Fancylad Parp called a flatface a flatface to his flat face and got his face flattened! Ha ha! It took him *hours* to die! Anyway, zhose Val Salian ladies don’t even know how to do pocket-play, zat’s where you lick zheir dick pockets while you funfun, you know about zat sort of zhing, right?”
>And the priest was drunk when he was snipping your hood, but you think the scarring adds character
>”Actually, I didn’t see a pocket, do humans have pockets?”
>You don’t want to talk about it
>”What I’m trying to say is I’ll do better next time!”
>Fuckin’ Scavs

Yinglet Princess Part 6 of ?
>On the road and OH MY FUCK IT’S FUCKING HOT AS FUCK
>You regret wearing your brigandine for a 100 mile walk, but ever since the Grandmother incident, you never go anywhere without it
>Those knitting needles went through leather like, uh, something sharp through…something soft
>Shut up it’s hot
>Yinglady seems unaffected, though, riding around on your shoulder
>She’s taken to wiping your brow and face, which is nice, you guess
>”Oh, Anon! You’re making so much salty, tasty, *musky* skin-water!” she says, wiping your brow and holding the rag to her nose when she thinks you’re not looking. “You should rest in ze shade up ahead and take off your shirt…and let me clean you…wiz my tongue.”
>Actually, a rest sounds nice, and there is a large object off in the distance, Scavs have sharp eyes, you guess
>You ask her if she can see what it is
>She has the sweat rag stuffed in her mouth “Yeph! Uh phee ah trhee.”
>Tree, eh? That means water.
>Sure enough, there’s a stream running by the tree, you utter some undignified sound between a laugh, a cheer, and a sob
>You peel out of your armor and scamper down the bank towards the stream
>”WAIT!” Yinglady screams “Turn around! Slowly.”
>You stop and turn around, naked as a jaybird, and ask her what’s the matter
>She stares, her eyes darting to and fro across your body “…”
>You ask again what her deal is
>”Oh nozhing” she says, spellbound as you jump into the stream
>Needless to say, the brook felt AMAZING, after a brief frolic in the cooling, cleansing water you lay down on a nearby rock and begin sunning yourself
>*sniffsniffsniffSNIIIIIIFF!*
>You look over at the pile of clothing, it’s moving and shifting as something underneath squirms around
>You toss a pebble at the pile and Yinglady pops out of it, your codpiece hanging off her snout
>”I-I’m sorry, Anon, I just couldn’t resist!” She says, her voice husky and tremulous, her arm twitching as she tends to something underneath the dirty linens. “Your scent is just so strong, so powerful, so…*overwhelming*!”
>She rubs the sweat-stained codpiece over her face and lets out a shuddering sigh
>You concede that your clothes could probably do with a wash
>Despite her increasingly frantic protests, you proceed to scrub your undercoat and linens in the stream, even without soap just getting the dried sweat out does the fabric wonders
>”No! No!” Yinglady screeches “You’re washing out all ze flavor!”
>Fuckin’ Sca– actually, she hasn’t been that bad today
>All told, this job has been pretty straightforward and painless, besides a few instances of Yinglet weirdness, she’s been by far the easiest to get along with out of all your escort missions
>Maybe this job won’t be as retarded as you thought


Yinglet Princess Part 7 of ?
>Meal time
>Jerky is apparently a no-go for Yinglady, not being able to chew probably has something to do with it
>A curious gopher solved that problem, and once again garnered her seemingly bottomless adoration
>Seriously, you wish all women were this easily impressed
>”I wish I could stay wiz you, Anon” she says, picking at a piece of gopher meat still on the bone
>You tell her she doesn’t mean that, that she seems comfortable and healthy which is more than you can say for most Yinglets, or humans for that matter
>”It’s okay being a lady, I guess,” she says, huffily “But you spend all your time cooped up, listening to ze matriarch, learning zhings and stuff. Even when I get out of ze enclave, I’m surrounded by guards. I just, I dunno, if I want to go somewhere, I go. If I want to see someone, I see zem, you know?”
>You shrug, this isn’t the first ‘restless princess’ monologue you’ve ever heard, so you reiterate that she’s luckier than most and should just be happy
>Awkward pause
>”Do you know what an avocado is?” she asks
>You answer yes
>”Yinglet eggs like zhose, so sooo big. I have to lay eight of ze fucking zhings every few monzs for ze rest of my life. Zhat’s it, zhat’s all I can do.”
>Your options are A) tell her to suck it up and stop being such a whiny little bitch or B) take a well-deserved hit from your emergency gin flask and keep your mouth shut
>Ahh…goes down like water, hits like a Baxxid (if they ever hit anything, which they don’t)
>”All my life I wanted to be like Kalakeeh, she’s our Matriarch, because she got to go on adventures and travel all around, seeing all ze zhings you humans build, meeting bug-people and snake-people, all people…and sexing zem”
>You manage to stop yourself from spraying valuable gin everywhere, but only just
>She takes your reaction as a go-ahead to regale you with the (un)arousing tale of how Grandma Yinglet Got Her Freak On, in excruciating detail
>Fuckin’
>Scav
>Over the next several hours you learn exactly how to make an Indrel ovulate using only your shucking tooth, how to tell which Baxxid penis has the ‘fertilization anchor’ and which one has the ‘pleasure barb’, and which members of the ruling house of Beletan enjoy butt stuff
>By the time she stops talking, your emergency gin is down to a dram
>She shimmies up to you, wagging her eyebrow…antenna…things at you
>”When all ze males were away, Kalakeeh would always tell us zat ze humans were ze best at funfun”
>…Yeah?
>She crawls over to you, her eyes half-lidded and hungry “Oh yes! Okay, I mean, Indrel don’t really have, well, anyzhing, and ALL Baxxid limbs are sharp and pointy, but even against Yinglets, humans were Kalakeeh’s favorite”
>You ask why that is, suspecting that it has something to do with our ability to farm oysters
>”Big mighty cocks,” she not so much said as announced
>Oh
>”Soooo…” she croons “Wanna fuck?”

Yinglet Princess Part 8 of ?
>You calmly ask her to repeat what she said
>”Stop shouting!” she says, patting your leg “And I zhink you heard me just fine”
>You implore her to reconsider
>”Zat’s not fair! You’ve been dangling zat meat in front of me ze whole way! Don’t bite my head off for wanting a piece!”
>What makes her think you’d fuck a Scav in the fist place?
>She glares at you ”You? Seriously? Anon Ze Whoremaster! ‘Heartbeat and a Hole’ Anon! Anon ze Baxxid-Fucker! You zhink I chose you by accident?!”
>Well, shut your mouth
>You start to tell her how the mechanics of it just wouldn’t work
>She counters by telling you the story of how Kalakeeh once purchased a human gigolo, sparing no gruesome detail or lurid act
>At one point she was compared to a sock puppet
>The mental image stuns you for a moment, and despite yourself you start to get a little…curious
>Ah, fuck it
>Goodbye gin, hello boner
>Yinglady notices, hopping on your lap and undoing your belt buckle “Zhere we go”
>She laughs triumphantly as your rock hard cock springs from your pants “Human ladies are so lucky!”
>She opens her mouth, revealing her pointy-ass teeth, and bends forward
>You start to protest when a warm, wet foot-long tongue slithers out of her mouth, wrapping around your cock
>Huh
>You ask her if this is one of the reasons she’s heading to Val Salia
>”Wun uf dem” she says, winking “hea’s anudder”
>She goes to work
>Whoa
>WHOA
>HOLY SHIT
>Her tiny hands caress your balls, the contrast between her soft, velvety pads and the hard sharpness of her claws as they prick your sack push you closer and closer as her tongue coils and writhes around your length
>You grab handfuls of grass as you edge closer, your quite gasps soon becoming pants and moans
>You look down at her, her eyes lock with yours, the adoration and lust in them pushes you clear over the edge
>Fireworks go off behind your eyes, your balls bunching up in her hands as you come
>Ropes of white spurt out from under her tongue, splattering on her snout and in her mouth
>She moans in pleasure as she carefully pulls your cock into her mouth, mindful to catch every drop
>You recline, panting heavily
>That was the best mouzfun–uh–head you’ve ever had! A real keeper, that…uh…
>You ask her what her name is

Yinglet Princess Part 9 of ?
>”Beej” she says, licking your cum from her snout
>How appropriate
>You tell her that she wasn’t blowing smoke about the ‘mouzfun’
>”Zhank you, Anon!” she giggles as she bats around your still-hard dick “Well zen, it seems you’re up for my speciality”
>While she positions herself you ask if there’s anything you can do to get her ready
>”I was ready for zis since I met you” she says huskily, lowering herself onto you
>Your tip disappears amidst the fluff of her belly, you gasp in surprise when you hit something hot and wet
>By your reckoning it’s about the size of a buttonhole, and in brief moments of humility you’d admit to being on the large side of average
>You ask Beej if she’s sure about this
>She answers by grabbing your shirt and pushing down as hard as she can
>You pop in and you both gasp, she’s like a silky vice that’s running a bad fever, completely unlike anything else you’ve encountered
>You watch in shock as she pulls more and more of you into her tight wet body, waiting for a bottom that never seems to come
>Finally, you hit something that feels like the end of the line and she stops, shuddering and trembling as she grips handfuls of your shirt in her tiny hands
>To your surprise, she’d managed to fit at least 3/4 of you into her, and what’s inside is so tight that it feels like she might pop right off of your cock if she let go
>”D-deeper…I can’t, you’ll have to…” she said, her voice is quiet and tremulous but her eyes are bright. “Deeper!”
>You’re starting to understand that this chick knows her limits, so you may as well trust her
>You grab her by the midsection and pull her down on your cock until you are completely hilted
>”See?” she says, looking as though she’s just barely maintaining coherent thought “I can…take it. Now, ze fun part of ze funfun!”
>She lifts herself up off your cock before slamming herself back down, still not quite able to get that last quarter in by herself
>She squeaks and grunts as she impales herself on you, her body tightening and squeezing around you with each thrust
>To your surprise, you find yourself coming up on another climax
>Speaking of which, Beej seems to be getting close, her thrusts becoming increasingly frantic as her tightness coils like a spring around your cock
>With a choked cry she collapses on your belly as she spasms around you, squeezing hard enough to hurt a little. After a few twitches, she seems like she’s unable to move and lays on top of you in a boneless heap
>Caught up in the moment and desperate for release you grip her midsection and slide her body up and down your dick, shoving your full length inside with abandon
>That seems to wake her up, as she starts moaning and panting as you frantically jack off with her body
>”H-harder!” she cries, mustering enough strength to grasp your collar “HARDER!”
>You oblige, bouncing her tiny body up and down on your length, pulling out almost completely before shoving it all in all at once
>Gripping her midsection, you can feel your cock moving around inside her
>She’s tightening up again, apparently getting off on your rough treatment, her insides squeezing like a tiny, inhumanly hot vice
>You both cum simultaneously, her hole twitching and squeezing as you cum explosively, jet after jet of spunk flooding her absolutely full insides, dripping down your shaft as she spasms around you
>Fun? You ask
>“FUNfun” she pants

Yinglet Princess Part 10 of 10
>You’re finally at Val Salia
>”Are you sure I can’t stay wiz you?” Beej asks softly, perched on your shoulder
>You explain once again that Yinglets tend to die with alarming frequency outside of their enclaves, and they’re not even following around someone who fights for a living
>She sniffles and turns away from you
>You then mention that you would rather not see her die
>This seems to cheer her up a little “Oh? Has ‘Zat Bastard’ Anon fallen in loooove wiz a Yinglet?”
>You tell her not to push her luck, but also mention how, as a merc, ‘I’d rather not see you die’ is a sentiment that you rarely extend to anyone, human or otherwise
>She still seems put out, though
>You ask her if she wants to fuck again
>”Will you choke me zis time?” She asks, eagerly “While you use me like a cocksleeve?
>This chick’s a freak!
>You’re gonna miss her
>Later
>You’re at the enclave, males encircle you as you approach with a very, er, ‘sedate’ Yinglet in your arms
>She dreamily waves at her public, still basking in the afterglow
>Before long you’re taken into the central hut and are met by an assembly of Yinglet bigwigs, the patriarchs, and a single very stately Yinglady, obviously the matriarch
>“No trouble on your journey, Anon?” patriarch Beizel hisses “I understand zat you didn’t use ze main road to get here. As such, your arrival was somewhat unexpected”
>You explain that people such as yourself are known to prowl the main roads as highwaymen, so you took a safer detour
>”We GREATLY appreciate your caution and discretion, proud Anon” patriarch Narklet said, effusively “Coming from a more traditional enclave, ze Lady Beej is not like ze ‘metropolitan’ females of Val Salia. She is naive, unknowing of ze dangers of ze world, as a female aught to be”
					Break here
>You bite your lip and suppress a laugh; yeah, she’s a real delicate flower alright
>The matriarch Vizlet steps forward “I, too, would like to zhank you for your dutiful care of Lady Beej. Often, females from ozer enclaves arrive agitated and stressed from ze journey, but ze Lady seems to be singularly…”
>Beej giggles and leans against you, sighing happily
>“…not.” Vizlet locks eyes with you and it dawns on you that little, if anything, gets past this chick “Zhank you for seeing to her needs and, er, easing her anxiety.”
>You cough awkwardly, patting the coin purse at your hip
>“Ah, right” she signalled to the older, greying patriarch with large chunks of his tail missing “Figgins, ze payment”
>One, two, and three heavy little sacks are placed in your hand
>You make for the door and pause, turning back to see Beej watching you, her ears drooping
>You smirk at her, reaching into your pocket, tossing her a neatly folded handkerchief
>Actually, it was your very well-used sweat-rag, pungent, just how she likes it, but the appearance of chivalry goes down well with the patriarchs
>She cries out in joy and sniffs the hanky
>…For way too long, her ears and tail perking way up as she did
>Vizlet quickly rushes Beej through a door before she can molest herself in public
>You share one last look with the little deviant as she’s pushed behind the drapes
>You both linger a bit
>You’ll miss her