FSE

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Moxxie's horns knifed through the top of the bushes like a shark's fin. He shoved aside the jungle of twigs and branches, swearing under his breath as each clump of leaves would drag past his scrunched, red face. "Come on... Gosh darnit... Ugh..." He was in his sneaking suit, an entirely black get up which included a beanie covering his feathered white hair. Sprouting from the top of it were his black and white ringed horns that he could feel knocking and snagging against every pashing branch. His glowing yellow eyes flickered through the leaves like a traveling swarm of fireflies, betraying his attempts at being stealthy.

Stymieing his advance was the massive book that he kept between his arm and himself. He ached just holding on to it, having to adjust his grip every other step so that it wouldn't fall to the dirt and become ruined. He protected it from the stinging branches more than he did himself. If anyone found the book to be damaged then there would be hell to pay, and Moxxie paid enough of that at work, thank you very much.

He came to the end of the hedgerow, finally. There he fell into a crouch and dusted himself off. There were several holes and cuts in his clothes, but that didn't bother him. He held the book in front of him to see if it was OK. It was a Grimoire bound in sapphire leather. Endowing the front cover was a golden crescent moon, its concave side encompassing an indecipherable set of runes printed within a circle. More gold inlay bordered the cover and the back too. A fat ruby was encrusted on the spine. It was possibly the most valuable thing Moxxie had ever held. Blitzo, his boss, accredited it as the source of all his money. Without it, Moxxie, his wife Millie, and Blitzo were all out of a job.

And it was Moxxie's job to give it back to its rightful owner. Blitzo, as he liked to bring up ad nauseam, was having an affair with Prince Stolas, owner of the Grimoire. Blitzo "borrowed" it in return for some rather raunchy favors Moxxie shuddered to think about. It was difficult not to when the sleazy Blitzo would bring it up as casually as he would whatever he had for breakfast that morning. Apparently Blitzo had promised to return the book to Stolas by a certain date. That date happened to be yesterday, and the damned thing was still in Blitzo's possession. After a brief moment of panic and creative cussing, Blitzo ordered Moxxie to sneak into Stolas' palace and put it back. Stolas still hadn't asked for the book back. It was unlikely he even cared, but in case he noticed they would put the book back in place and pretend they had sent it to him on time. When asked why the hell he couldn't do it himself, Blitzo explained "I'm not in the mood to run into that horny-ass Stolas and have to fuck his brains out just to make up being late with a book return. You're the smallest out of all of us. You'll be fine."

Moxxie hardly saw how that was a worse risk than him getting caught and being torn to shreds. He'd never met the flamboyant Prince, and Moxxie didn't consider himself sexually capable enough to make sparks fly between them if he was caught. But with his job on the line, he didn't have much of an argument. He donned his stealth gear, took the book, and made his way to the Pride Ring where Stolas' Palace was.

Satisfied that the Grimoire was unhurt, Moxxie gathered it back beneath his arm and peered form out the bush, illuminating the outer leaves with the glow of his eyes. Before him was the western flank of the Palace. It was three stories tall, decked in a facade that landed somewhere between Victorian and Gothic. Under the moon's glow its color hovered between a royal burgundy and a Plutonian blue. The windows were shaped like coffins. Adorning the roof was a winding tapestry made gloomy by the night atmosphere.

Moxxie counted the floors and the windows. The library was on this side, on the third floor. The last three windows on the left led into it. All he had to do was get in, put the book on its pedestal, then get the hell out. Easier said than done, but he had completed tougher missions before. This was a cakewalk, or so he tried to convince himself.

After taking a deep breath he burst from the hedge, bringing with him a flurry of leaves that whipped off his body and drifted to the lawn below. He propelled himself on his thin, red goat legs, hooves thudding the grass quietly. He made it to the palace wall in just a few strides. He came to a stop with his back flat to the wall, chest rising with each deep inhale. He whipped his head right, then left, then right again. The lawn was vacant of any guards. His tongue ran across his thin, pointed lips. Alright, here we go.

He took one step from the wall and faced it, head turned up towards the third floor. Around his waist was a utility belt that he retrieved a grappling hook gun from. Both his hands formed a tight grip on it. He aimed with one eye, then pulled the trigger.

Pshhhhhhhhhh!

There was a great hiss of CO2 from the muzzle. The hook was launched into the air with a line whizzing and whipping behind it. The hook reached an apogee before cresting down and landing on one of the window sills with a clank. Moxxie yanked on the gun hard, making sure that the hook was stuck. Confident that it was, he flicked a switch on the gun that stopped the line from unraveling. He pulled the trigger again, this time reeling it in. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz- It snapped taut, catapulting Moxxie into the air and elevating him towards the floor.

While being lifted he passed the windows of the two floors beneath him. Brief looks inside revealed a hall of mirrors and then something that looked like a parlor; it was too dark to tell exactly. As far as he could tell there was nobody in them which was a good sign. His finger came off the trigger once he'd reached the window sill and was able to pull himself up. There was very little room for a foothold, so he kept his body as close to the window as possible with one arm extended towards the edge of the window frame for balance.

He pressed his face into the window. Most he could see was the window-shaped beam of moonlight pouring into what was supposed to be the library. In the center of it was his shadow. It illuminated a portion of hardwood and a fancy, burgundy rug. Beyond that he couldn't see much. Please, let this be the library.

The next phase was delicate. He verrrrrrrry carefully leaned the book on the ledge and reached for his utility belt. From there he pulled out what looked like a simple, flat, iron bar. It was what he called his "jimmy tool" for unlocking windows and, if the situation called for it, breaking them too. Now called for quiet, however, so he jammed the flat end of the bar into the window pane and carefully jimmied it deeper. A few deft shifts later and the window was unlocked.

"Yes!" Moxxie slid the bottom window up and then pushed his legs through. He grabbed the Grimoire and slithered the rest of the way inside before falling into a crouch. It was still too dark to tell where he was. In such uniform blackness his eyes shone the brightest. He stood up slowly, grabbed the window, then slid it shut. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the dark and shapes began to materialize amidst the distant black. He recognized a bookshelf, then another, then another. Oh yeah, he thought with a smirk. This is the library.

There was no time for celebration, not until the Grimoire was back in its proper place. First he had to find it. As his vision secured more of the dark he realized just how big the library was. There were upwards of fifty shelves, each one consuming the entire wall from floor to ceiling. A rolling ladder leaned against one of them. Moxxie had never actually seen one in person. There was the urge to climb on and ride it from one end of the shelves to the other. Of course, now wasn't the time. He had to find the pedestal where the Grimoire was supposed to go. He was fortunate that it did not have to go anywhere on the shelves where it would probably take hours to find where it went.

He skulked along the outer wall, keeping himself ducked beneath the windows so as not to cast any shadows in the moonlight. He could see the end of the library where a massive mahogany desk stood. Behind that, next to a bust of someone Moxxie didn't recognize, was a granite pedestal with an empty display case sitting on top of it. A toothy grin split his face. There it is. His grip on the Grimoire tightened and his pace down the library quickened. Darting around the enormous desk he found himself in front of the pedestal. He saw the reflection of his eyes radiating back at him in the reflection of the display case. Inside of it was a floor of soft, red velvet.

OK. Don't fuck this up. This part is crucial. Moxxie swallowed and put the Grimoire down on the floor carefully. He reached out and put his hands on the glass. With as firm a grip as he could make, he picked it up off the pedestal. After slooooowly putting it on the rug beneath the desk he picked the Grimoire back up and placed it on the pedestal. He made sure it was perfectly in the center, twisting and pushing it with just his fingers.

At last the Grimoire was back where it was supposed to be. Moxxie brought his hands off from it slowly like he had just put the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle in. He smiled cautiously, proud of himself for having gotten the book back, but aware that he still had to get out of there. He grabbed the display case and placed it over the book. After taking time to make sure it was perfect too, he finally spun around and made a quick dash towards the nearest window. Alright, now let's get the hell out of-

Clack!

The sound was like an explosion, shattering the silence into a million pieces. Moxxie's heart leaped in his chest. From the opposite side of the library there bloomed a flood of golden light. It blanketed everything from wall to wall, evaporating that discrete darkness for a blinding glow. The door was open, and a lone, towering figure stretched their shadow across it like a highway.

They stumbled inside and flicked the light switch on. Moxxie had to squint and cover his eyes. Instinct sent him darting towards the window, though he knew even then that he wouldn't make it in time. Stopping him dead in his tracks was a single, barked syllable.

"You!"

Moxxie was mid-step, only a few feet from the window. If he charged fast enough he could've broken through the glass and gone plummeting down onto the lawn, but like a deer in headlights, he was totally frozen. His heart was in a block of ice that melted cold water into his veins. A desert had overtaken his mouth. he couldn't swallow. Slowly his foot came down while he stayed facing the wall.

"Turn around," commanded the voice. It belonged to a woman. She did not speak loudly, but carried an authority so sharp that it cut Moxxie down all the same.

Moxxie obeyed slowly with his head hunched guiltily. On the other side of the library, glowering down at him and pointing her finger was Stella Goetia, wife of Stolas and one of the most powerful demons in all of hell. She stood like a leviathan, the top of her head coming close to the ceiling several meters above Moxxie. Her cygnine frame was adorned with feathers whiter than even the heaviest snow. Stark against it was the winged black lashes that soared from around her eyes, sharpening her visage into something truly fierce. A brief but acutely honed beak the color of rose sneered at him. From her head to her lower back hung a veil of long, white feathers tipped in gray. The hot pink of her scleras burned as she stared Moxxie down, withering the poor imp where he stood.

She wore a platinum colored silk bathrobe that drifted about her ankles and swelled over a great, heavy bosom she left mostly exposed. In one hand was a red wine bottle. The one pointing at Moxxie held a mostly empty wine glass. Her cheeks, he noticed, were ruddied by a heavy level of alcohol hanging on her mind like a lead blanket and sullying her balance.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked.

Moxxie's throat was in a vice. He could not open his jaw, let alone try and explain himself. In a sneaking suit that included a utility belt full of burglary tools he didn't quite have much to prove his innocence with. With a sinking heart he realized that it was best if he just told the truth. Perhaps the Princess would show mercy, though her reputation as a pugnacious witch did not bode well.

"I was just returning a book, ma'am," he said, head bowed. "Your husband's Grimoire. It's on the pedestal." He looked to his left with his eyes, towards the display case.

"Oh, that thing." Stella scoffed and poured some more wine into her glass. "Better off if we never had that dreadful thing. My welp of a husband wouldn't be off getting fucked by other men if we didn't." The wine came all the way up to the rim before she took a long, deep swig. She came off it with a crisp sigh. Her eyes blinked out of sync, one after the other.

I'm inclined to agree, thought Moxxie. "I'm really, really sorry ma'am. I'm here on my boss's orders." Moxxie winced. Crap. I probably shouldn't talk about Blitzo.

"Are you? Then why are you apologizing? And you'll refer to my husband as such, not that I wish that were the case." She took another sip of wine.

Moxxie frowned. "Ma'am? I don't follow."

She gave him an impatient look. "I said you'll refer to that drat husband of mine as my husband while you're speaking to me. Didn't they tell you that?"

Moxxie said nothing at first. His eyes darted off, thinking. Did Blitzo ever tell me that? "I'm sorry, ma'am. Who told me that?"

Stella scoffed. "The hell if I know. Whoever it is that trains you blokes. Is it Morton? I don't know. I really don't care. I'll make sure to tell whoever it is that you ought to know how to speak to us properly."

The confusion was clear on Moxxie's face. Morton? Trains us? Who-? His eyes shot open. It dawned on him like an arrow through the chest. She thinks I'm a servant! Immediately he stood upright as if at attention. Breathe. Act natural. This is your ticket out of here.

"Yes ma'am. Morton taught us to do that. My mistake."

Stella rolled her eyes and waved it off with the hand holding the wine bottle, sloshing the liquid inside. She spoke from behind the bowl of her wine glass. "Oh, spare me. I really don't give a shit. Just don't let it happen again." Then she took another swig.

"Well, if that's all, ma'am, I think I'll be going now." But where do I go? Can I get to the foyer from here?

"Wait!" she said.

Moxxie groaned internally. What now?

"Come with me. The house is dreadfully empty and I have no one to spend the night with," she said before downing yet another sip.

As quickly as Moxxie's hopes took flight, they were shot down. "Oh... Um, yes ma'am. I just..." He looked back at the window. It's not too late to jump!

"Well, don't stand there twiddling yourself!" she barked while beckoning him with the hand holding the bottle. "Get over here! This instant!"

Moxxie cringed. Dammit! "Yes ma'am." He came scurrying over, rattling the tools on his belt. Please, Lucifer, let her be too drunk to recognize what any of this stuff is. He came to a halt in front of her, ready to serve. He realized for the first time just how tall she was. He'd never felt so small before.

Stella thrusted the bottle in his face. "Hold this."

Moxxie grabbed it by the body. It was massive, but mostly empty with only about a quarter of wine left. Judging by how strong the neck smelled he judged it to have been opened very recently, at least within the hour. She's plastered.

Suddenly she grabbed his hand and pulled it up, nearly yanking it out of the socket. "Come on, then," she demanded. "Walk with me."

He didn't even have time to say "Yes ma'am," before she spun around and dragged him out of the library by his arm. He stumbled forward to keep up. With sequoian legs her strides were incredibly long. Moxxie had to scamper beside her with one arm heaved above his head and a giant wine bottle hooked in the other. Stella's grip was unrelenting. For such a dainty hand it felt ready to crush his fingers into dust.

They walked the hallways which were mostly dark. Unlit torches would burst into a blood red flame whenever Stella passed them. Decorating the walls were portraits of the Goetia family and their ancestors. On the floor were busts on pedestals and fancy rugs. Moxxie spotted several portraits of Stella herself from varying stages in her life. In each one she looked like a refined, punctual woman. Looking from them to the drunkard who had his hand in a vice was a jarring contrast.

"What did you say your name was?" she asked him after coming off yet another sip.

"Um..." Lie to her. "Moxxie." Crap!

"Moxxie, do you know why I drink so much?"

Not at all. "Because of your stressful life?"

Stella scoffed. "Yes, and do you know why it's stressful?"

"No ma'am."

"It's because of my dearest husband." The word "dearest" was spoken with the most venomous derision. "That wet noodle of a man- if I dare to even call him that -is the most pathetic excuse of a Prince I've ever had the misfortune of knowing, let alone marrying. He'd rather go off and get fucked by some rotten imp with a third leg than put any effort behind making me cum. I swear if I had a cock he'd be much more inclined."

Moxxie blushed hard. The image of his boss's endowment flashed in his head. "That's... Oh geez. I'm sorry to hear that."

Stella grunted and took another sip of wine. "Yeah. I swear the only good he's ever done me is giving me Octavia and tying me in with his family. Other than that he's as useful as a fart in the wind."

Moxxie smirked. "I'm certain he is. How dreadful."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it."

They rounded a corner which led them into another hallway. This one included a large pair of double-doors. They flew open automatically once the two of them drew close. It revealed the master bedroom, a cavernous chamber doused in a hellish red light and drowning in the family colors, burgundy and violet. At its center was a massive bed. Atop it were giant pillows and an impenetrably thick comforter. The canopy above it was draped with nebulous curtains partly obscuring that field of luxury.

It frightened Moxxie deeply. How the hell am I supposed to get out from here?

Stella pulled him towards a nearby couch where she laid down on her back with a groan. The bell of her robe split open across her legs, sagging to the floor and revealing a significant portion of heavy, luscious thigh. Moxxie blushed and looked away. Stella didn't seem to care. She held her wine glass which was half empty.

"Refill."

Moxxie barely turned his head to look. He held the bottle out and poured her just a splash of wine.

"More."

He let out another splash.

"Come on, more. To the top."

He tipped the wine until more gurgled out. It reached the very top of the glass, nearly sloshing out. Moxxie retracted the bottle, nearly dropping it. Stella calmly brought it back to her beak and drank. Maybe if I get her drunk enough she'll pass out and I can leave. Yeah, that'll work.

"You know, Moxxie. I didn't ask to marry Stolas. It was put upon us both by our families," she griped. Her eyes looked uncoupled in their sockets, staring at nothing but the distant ceiling above her. "I would never have vowed myself to a weakling such as him, nor he to a princess such as I."

"Of course, ma'am. You deserve much better." He kept a close eye on how much wine was in her glass. The moment it was half empty he would pour her more.

She managed to roll her eyes. "Spare me the flattery. I doubt there's a man out there who will ever meet my standards. I'm a Princess. I was given everything as a child, now all I want is a husband who can please me the way I need him to. It's the one thing I can't get."

Well, at least she's honest. "Maybe Stolas will do better for you one day. He can come around."

Stella chortled. "I wouldn't be so hopeful. So long as there are men with cocks to suck he won't even try with me." She took another sip, bringing her supply close to half.

Moxxie held the bottle back. Come on. Just a little more.

"We'd divorce if our families would allow it, but alas." She rolled the wine around in its glass and stared into it blankly. "Of course, there are other means of separation."

Moxxie didn't like the sounds of that. "What do you mean, ma'am?"

Stella shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It's no business of yours."

It wasn't until you dragged me in here, you spoiled slob. "My apologies."

Stella grunted and took another small sip. The way she kept the glass close to her chest made approaching her difficult. Moxxie held the bottle up, silently offering a refill. She saw him do it, but said nothing. Her eyes began to drift downwards, landing and focusing on something, but what exactly he did not know.

"Is it true what I hear about imps?" she asked suddenly.

That was a difficult question to answer. A lot of things were said about imps, usually cruel and untrue: that they were thieves, murderers (granted Moxxie couldn't argue against that one), criminals, swindlers, etc. "What do they say about us?" he asked.

Her eyes slid up his body and locked onto his. "They say that you're all rather endowed."

Moxxie's blush deepened. His grip on the wine bottle faltered, nearly dropping it. "Ah, well..." He cleared his throat after it had become terribly dry. "I... I don't know about all of that."

For the first time since they were together Stella smiled. "Oh, I think you do." She sat up from the couch, drifting her enormous leg to the floor and spreading them so that the flaps of her bathrobe just barely covered her womanhood. "You know, my husband says that the imp that fucks him has a howitzer for a cock. Is that true?"

Moxxie rolled his eyes and grimaced. "I'd rather not think about it, ma'am.

She purred. "I do, and I'd like to find out for myself." Her hand came up to the lapel of the robe and hooked it with one finger. She pulled it down, revealing more of her inner breast and very nearly letting free her nipple.

Moxxie's face was ablaze. He snapped his gaze away, eyes widened, heart pounding, legs trembling. "Ahh... Ma'am, apologies, but I hardly think that's appropriate. Sorry."

Undeterred, Stella cooed. "Oh, don't tell me you've got cold feet." She put the wine glass down and stood up to her full height, towering over him like a mountain. Her hand came down and gently cupped his chin so that she could bring it to face him. The tips of her fingers were like razors of excitement. Chills blossomed throughout his skin, making his imp tail flick behind him. She brought her face down to his, close enough that the glow of their eyes intermingled. He could smell the wine on her breath. It beat him in the nose every time she breathed. "An adorable little man like you should be proud to have wooed a woman like me~"

It was a miracle he didn't melt into a puddle right then and there. He clung the bottle to his chest unconsciously. His hooves dug into the rug. "I'm... Ah... I'm flattered, but... I'm a married man."

Stella laughed. "So am I." She stood upright and pulled the string on her robe. It slipped down her body and fluttered to the ground with a soft whoosh, its platinum finish glistening in the torch light along the way. There was Stella in her nature, full form on display for Moxxie to admire. Stella was a tall woman, but in absolutely no way was she lanky. From her scaly legs to the feathered crown on her head she was adorned with supple flesh that bounded around her in ample curves. Her thighs were like white support columns lathered in soft feathers. They exploded into a pair of hips and an ass bigger than Moxxie himself. All of that slimmed into a delicately crafted waist which in turn held a chest emboldened by her massive breasts.

Moxxie's breath stuttered in his chest. A paralysis struck him to the bone, robbing him of any speech or thought. At once he felt his penis stiffening in his underbriefs, jamming itself against the fabric and forming a tent. He was entranced by every portion of her. Those charcoal nipples that stared back at him grew hard in the bedroom air. Between her thighs sat a shallow trench of black within two thick cunt lips. Just looking at it made his heart perform somersaults.

"Ah... Ah... Ah... I..." was all the poor imp could stammer.

A soft laugh rumbled through her chest. She ran her hands down her curves, making his eyes fall downward in their sockets. "Like what you see?"

No point in lying. "Yes ma'am..."

"That's good. I think I'll like what I see soon enough." She sauntered past him, those clawed feet of hers thumping lightly on the rug. He spun in place to watch her go, eyes locked on that tremendous posterior which swayed and wobbled with her every step. She crawled onto the bed and rolled onto her side with her knees bent, ass aimed at him. A sultry look over her shoulder and a gentle rub on one ass cheek beckoned him. "C'mere, Moxxie. Show me what you imps are packing, and leave those silly clothes where you are."

"Oh crumbs... What have I gotten myself into?"

"What was that?"

"Nothing! I'm coming." Millie, forgive me. He came trudging over while pulling the beanie off his horns and unbuckling his utility belt. He set them on the floor next to the bed where he was mere feet away from Stella's beautiful ass. She was looking away from him, patiently waiting for his arrival. He pulled his black shirt off, showing his lithe, red trunk. Off came his boots, then his pants, leaving him in his bulging tighty whities. The head of his cock impressed itself on the fabric, eager to have a go at the beautiful woman presenting herself for him.

With a gulp he pulled his underwear down, letting his modest pecker flop free. The shaft was a bright red like the rest of him. The foreskin was pulled back off a deep maroon cock helmet. He hauled himself onto the mattress, kicking his scrawny legs for a foothold. His knees sank into the soft comforter while his penis jutted from his loins excitedly. With so much bird ass laid out in front of him he hardly knew what to do with himself.

Stella cooed and rubbed her hand across the upper haunch. She pulled it off its twin, showing Moxxie her puckered, black donut and the soddened flower that existed just below it. Without looking back at him she hummed. "Go ahead and fuck me, big boy~"

Moxxie had been called many things in his life, but never a "big boy". When Millie pegged him she liked to call him her "little bear". That was a whole different ball game compared to this. He took a deep breath and grabbed his penis.Alright. Here we go. You can do this Moxxie. Just don't cum too quickly. Get things over with.

He scooted forward on his knees, close enough so that the head of his penis came within the gap in her open cheeks. The heat of her orifices sighed on his crotch, alone making his cock throb with pleasure. Calm down. Calm down. The first issue arose when he realized her ass was too fat for his dick to reach her pussy. Crap! His best and only option was to hoist her haunch up further and slide his hips as far as he could get them.

His fingers slid into her crack and lifted up her buttock like a garage door; it was certainly heavy like one. With his arm muscles straining he scooted his knees forward and bent his back so that he could bring his penis to her cunt. It was close, but he was able to press the head into her lips and penetrate them ever so slightly.

"Ahhhhh..." An icy shiver blew through him. That very little contact was white-hot. He bit his lip and tried to control his breathing. Attempts at sliding in deeper were held back by the indomitable presence of her ass cheeks.

Stella frowned. "What in the hell are you doing?" It felt like he was trying to smuggle his entire body into her ass crack rather than fuck her.

A struggling Moxxie grunted. "Sorry ma'am. I'm trying to go deeper."

"Deeper?" She whipped her head over her shoulder and glowered at him. "You mean you're inside already?"

Moxxie's expression sank. If there was ever a way to land a blow on a man's morale, that was it. "Um..." He peered underneath her cheek and saw just the head of his cock ensconced in her feminism. "Yes ma'am, I am, kinda."

"What?" she all but shouted. "Move. Let me see." She dragged her ass away from him and sat up with her body turned towards him. Moxxie scooted back. Just the top quarter of his penis was covered in her pussy juices. Stella's eyes went round. Her hand clapped over her mouth to stifle a gasp. For a fleeting moment Moxxie thought she was impressed.

That did not prove to be the case.

"Is that it???" she demanded, pointing her finger at his crotch. An expression like shocked amusement twisted her face. "You've got to be fucking kidding me! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It was a full-on belly laugh, one that lurched her head back and had her beak opened all the way to release each guffaw at full volume.

Moxxie crumpled where he knelt. A terrible shame bled down his chest and drew his hands in front of his tummy so he could fidget them. His erection died as quickly as it had been born, slumping into a turgid worm that wanted no audience from such a cruel mistress. That was too bad, because Stella leaned forward for a closer look. She cupped it with the tips of her fingers and held it aloft. Moxxie gasped and leaned back, coming close to pushing her away, but too frozen by fear and humiliation to do a thing.

"Dear Lucifer in Hell, I've never seen anything so pathetic!" She covered her mouth to contain a few sniggers. It didn't last as she started bursting out laughing again. "Ohhhhhh, goodness. Ahhhh... And I thought imps were hung like stallions! No, no... I see that is absolutely not the case whatsoever." She looked up at him. "Or are you just a wee little lad for your kind?"

His jaw was like a jackhammer. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I don't know, m-ma'am."

"Oh, I'm fairly certain you do. My husband says his fuck piece's got a battering ram between his legs. What do you've got?" She waggled his peen between her pinched fingers like a dead rodent. "Nothing. You have nothing."

His shame solidified into a lump of lead within his gut. "I know... I'm... I'm sorry..." Millie said it was cute. Was she just being nice?

"You fucking better be sorry, bringing that whimpy little pecker in here." She rubbed his cock. "Fuck me, I'd sooner get one of the wrinkly old butlers to please me with their cocks than you. Have you ever made a woman cum?"

He gulped. "With my mouth."

"But not with your cock."

He hung his head. "No ma'am..."

"Ha! I didn't think so." Stella knelt upright and grinned down at him. "Well, I've got you naked in my bed now. No point in letting your tiny, little twig of a cock go unused, though I hardly think it's worth the effort." She laid back and rolled onto her belly. Her legs opened like a fan, parting her buttocks for him once more. "Be a dear and fuck my ass, or at least try. I want to see if there's really anything your little dick can make me feel. I have my doubts."

So did Moxxie, but his penis was back in action already, standing out of his crotch as if it hadn't just been insulted. He thought he'd spare himself any further humiliation, but was inevitably drawn by the nubile presentation before him. Stella's crown of feathers were sprawled across her back. Her dainty tail feather swooped up from her lower back, an adorable accessory to her enormous ass. Down that fathomless crevice he could just see the outline of her pucker and cunt. From where he sat he could still smell it, fleshy and hot, making his nose twitch and his mouth water.

It was too much to refuse. He crawled forward to the obtuse gap between her legs. For such a robust woman she was incredibly flexible. She did him the favor of reaching back and parting her buttocks for him. Face-to-face with her wrinkled tailhole made him gulp. It winked at him with a flex. Oh crumbs. I've really gotten myself in the pits, haven't I?

He crawled the rest of the way forward and laid a hand on her ass. The other one held his penis and aimed it at her pucker. After a deep breath he pushed his hips forward and landed the tip on her crater. Both of their fleshes were hot to the touch. That taut ring of muscle was ungiving, even as he pushed his hips forward. Not even his thin little prick could pierce the epicenter.

He gave up with an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I... I don't think I can."

Stella cackled. "No, I didn't think you could. How predictable." She let go of her cheeks. They collided together and wobbled for some time before she pushed herself up and sat up facing him. "It felt like you were trying to stick your finger up my bum. You're sure that's not what you were doing?"

He rubbed his little willy. "No... I was trying to fuck you like you asked."

Stella chortled and shook her head. "Oh, darling. That's absolutely pathetic. I'd say it was sad if it wasn't so hilarious."

He hung his head. "I'm sorry."

"That's right, dicklet. You ought to be sorry." She lied in front of him on her belly, bringing her face level with his crotch. Her explosive bosom flattened on the comforter beneath her. Her scaly legs kicked in the air behind her like a schoolgirl on the phone with her friends. Her hand came out and caressed his pecker with just her thumb and index finger. Moxxie hissed as a bite of pleasure snapped through his loins.

"Sensitive, are we?" she cooed.

Moxxie was wincing. He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"Mmmm, I'm sure. Such a tiny cock must be full to the brim with nerves. You don't last long, do you?" Her fingers continued to drift up and down his shaft.

He shook his head. "No ma'am." He had to grit his teeth just to prevent himself from bursting right then and there.

"Of course not. You couldn't possibly last long with any woman no matter how hard you tried. Why don't we see just how long you can really last?" Then she opened her beak and let loose a soft pink tongue that lapped the underside of his cock, right on the cleft of his cock helmet.

It was like a lightning bolt of pleasure. It zapped up his spine, sending it into a straight line. A stuttered gasp shot into his lungs. "Hahhhhhh! Ah, ah, ah!"

Stella kept licking him, holding the tip of her tongue to just the zenith of his manhood. She orbited his foreskin, coating it in a shiny film of her spit. Every other rotation she would deliver a direct lip upon that bundle of nerves within the cleft, diving her tongue into the foreskin.

It was absolute torture for Moxxie. "Ahh! Ahh! Ohh! Fuck! I-! Haaaaaahhhhhhhhh~!" Predictably, he did not last long. The first spurt rocketed out of his cock slit and splattered across Stella's tongue. More pearls landed across the inside of her beak as she continued to lather him with her mouth muscle, all without flinching or slowing down.

The little imp shook in front of her like a leaf. She closed her beak, turned away, and spat it on the bed. "Ptoo! Worthless! I've tasted tap water with more flavor and weight! My heart goes out to any woman you try and have babies with, Hell forbid it." She cradled his nuts with the tips of her two fingers. "I wonder if there's any left."

Moxxie was out of it. Ecstasy rang throughout his lower body like a bell, radiating throughout his muscles and making him woozy. "I... Ahhhh... Wow..."

Stella chuckled. "'Wow' is right. Now sit down. Let's see what else we can get out of that scrawny little thing." She rolled onto her back, letting her enormous breasts sway into place. The top of her head was on the mattress so that she could peer up at him. "Come here, little imp. Sit on my stomach and fuck my tits."

That snapped him out of his stupor. "Ah, yes ma'am." He came over on his fours like a possum, hungry for more of her flesh and commands. He felt small and weak, yet he yearned for more of her cruelty. He kicked one leg over her torso and straddled her like a horse. Her belly was soft beneath his butt. He could feel her heartbeat and the swell of her lungs as she breathed. Enamoring him were the two enormous breasts settled in front of him like two mountains. His penis, now limp, was already on its way back to becoming hard.

Her chest bounced as she laughed. "You're so tiny and small, in more ways than one." She pinched his willy between her fingers. "Go on, then. Feel how soft these are." She grabbed him by the wrists and planted his hands on her breasts.

He gasped. Yes, they were miraculously soft, both the feathers and the firm but malleable flesh beneath them. His fingers glanced her nipples. They were tough like leather, begging his gentle inspection. He tweaked them with his thumb and index finger. Stella cooed beneath him.

"Good boy, but you're not here to play with my bags. Stick that little dick in them and get hard so we can move on."

"R-right." He scooted up her trunk until his half-chubbed pecker fell into her cleavage. Another shudder ran through his flesh. That heavenly softness blessed him with a comfort he didn't think he was worthy of. "Huhhhhh..." sighed the imp.

Stella laughed. "Oh, look at that. I can't even see it! I've gone and swallowed you up, haven't I?" She laid her hands on her tits and squeezed them together. "How's that feel? Does it make your little dick hard?"

"Ahhhhh! Yeah!"

"Of course it does. A terrible shame that even at your biggest you won't pierce the way through to my neck. A real man would be poking me in the chin right now. I don't think you're even past my solar plexus. Ha!"

And he wasn't, but that hardly mattered to him now, not when he was absorbed by a feeling of warmth and physical kindness that had rendered him as drunk as she was. He sat atop her belly listlessly, only staying up thanks to his hands still latched to her breasts. He dimly felt her squeezing them around his cock which was now painfully hard. His jaw was slack and he moaned without input.

Stella hummed. "I see you've gotten hard again. Think you'll cum?"

That went without saying. He nodded dumbly.

"Good," she said, and started rubbing her tits on him more aggressively. "Cum then, you shrimp dicked loser. Cum on these tits and let me hear how good it feels."

He had no say in the matter. "Hyuuuhhhhhhhh~~~!!!" He bowed over and began to tremble once his next climax spewed out of him. His ruddy, plump butt clenched on reflex, jabbing his cock deeper down her cleavage, but not by far. Most of the cum he spat out was trapped between her two globes. Only some of it managed to squeak through and stain the upper slopes of her bosom.

Stella chuckled. "Fucking weak. I ought to slap you seeing how you've ruined my feathers."

A panting Moxxie retracted his cock from her chest. A thickish sheen of his cum was smeared across it. "Ahhh... Ahhh... I'm sorry, ma'am. Your tits feel amazing."

"I know they do. I hardly think your little dick is worthy of feeling them, but oh well." She shooed him with a flicking motion. "Now get off. You're going to make up for the mess you've made."

He scurred off her. "Y-yeah... I mean, yes ma'am."

"Shut up." She sat up and laid her hand on his chest. A quick shove sent him flopping onto his back where he bounced on the mattress. Stella walked over him, shadowing his face with her pussy. She stood with her feet over his head then knelt upright. Suddenly her hands were on his upper arms. She dragged him up the space between her legs, bringing his arms over her calves and landing his shoulders in the crook of her knees. Her moistened cunt loomed over his face, casting an ominous shadow. It came plummeting down on his chest.

"Huhhhh!" wheezed Moxxie.

She crossed her feet beneath him and closed her thighs around his neck, locking his head in place. His snout was shoved into her crotch, a swamp cloven by her thick pussy. He tried to gasp but was given nothing but a mouthful of hot, juicy Stella muff. He latched onto her thighs, sinking his hands into their soft padding. Beneath that was an impossibly strong core of muscle that wrung his neck into a choke. His cheeks were mushed together, though the look of panic in his eyes was clear.

"Hmmmmmmgghhhhh!!!"

"Shut up." She shifted her weight forward on his face, gliding the crevice of her flower up his nose before she brought it back over his mouth. A womanly purr echoed in her throat as she swooned her head. "Mmmmmm... No way I'm going to cum on that measly stick of yours. You said you've made a lady cum with your mouth. Why don't you prove it to me now?"

That was easier said than done, not out of lack of skill or experience on Moxxie's part. Stella would not relent her draconian grip around his neck with her thighs. His head was liable to pop off at any moment. Every flex and squeeze of her muscles was added pressure on his windpipe. She would hump and grind her crotch up and down his face, smearing it with her cunny juices and periodically clogging his mouth and nose. He clawed at her thighs to no avail. She wasn't going anywhere, not until she came.

"Ohh..." sighed Stella. "How is it down there? Comfortable, I hope."

"Hmmmmggghhhhhhhh..."

"Mmmm, keep struggling like that. The vibrations feel good. Mmmmmmm~" She looked over her shoulder to look at his penis. It was erect once more, invigorated by the depleting oxygen in Moxxie's brain. She chuckled and reached back for it so that she could give him a few strokes with her fingers. "I bet you want to cum before I smother you to death, hmm?"

His eyes were uncoupling in their sockets. He kicked and scraped his legs out against the comforter. He beat his puny fists at her thighs. Cumming would be nice, but breathing was more important. Struggling wasn't going to help him. He managed to calm down and manage the breath in his lungs. If she wasn't getting off until she came, then his best option was to speed the process up. His tongue slipped from his maw and found its way into her orchid upon the next pass.

"Mmmm, I bet you do. Huhhhh! Oh yes... Hahhh... That's it~" She came to a stop with her cavity right over his mouth. Her grip on his neck tightened. A stuttering gasp ripped through her open beak once he found her pearl. "Huhhhhhh! Oh yes! Uhhhhhhhhh! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Yes! YES!" She tightened her fist around his cock and jerked it hard, unwittingly pulling yet another orgasm out of him while she unleashed one of her own on his face. "Huuueeeeuuuugggghhhhuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh~~~!!!"

Stella's head was thrown back while her back bent itself into a steep crescent. Every curve of flesh that clung to her body flew into a continuous jiggle as the muscles at her core began to spasm. From her cunt glued to Moxxie's face she let loose a flood of her cream, a thickish white liqueur that plastered his cheeks and permeated in his mouth, inundating him with a uniquely feminine taste. He flew onto his own pinnacle and spewed another load that arced high into the air and splattered onto his bare tummy.

The moment Stella was on the downswing of her ecstasy she opened her thighs and puller herself off his face. Moxxie let in a deep gasp. "GUUUUHHHHHHHHHH!" Color flushed back into his face and vision where a swarm of blue dots darted wildly. Every breath brought with it a wallop of Stella's sex smell. Her cum was lathered across his visage like egg yolk, its taste and smell having stained his senses to the core.

"Mmmmmmm, wonderful~" sighed Stella. She sat atop his belly and gently fingered her pussy. Her fingers came out of it covered in a dollop of her orgasm. She dipped it in Moxxie's mouth. "Suck it, shrimp dick."

Moxxie obeyed zealously, murmuring softly as he helixed his tongue around her digits. Warm nectar slithered down his gullet and blossomed in his gut.

"Hmm, pathetic." She plucked her fingers out of his mouth and wiped the spit off on his chest. Her ass rolled off him so that she could lie back on the bed and spread her legs. She held them apart by holding the ankles at an impressive angle. At the very center was her gnarled cunny, still aching for more. "I think you've earned yourself a stint in my pussy. Why don't you have another go? Try a little harder this time."

Moxxie was still recovering from nearly being suffocated when he sat up and saw her presenting. At once his consciousness came rushing back to him, as did the blood into his pecker. His eyes blinked back into sync and he came trudging over on his fours like a zombie, driven by nothing more than a mad horniness that breathed life back into his little prick.

"That's it," purred Stella. "Come here and show me what you can do, though I'm not sure it's a lot."

He knelt in front of her with his cock in hand, aimed it at her quim, then slid it inside with a soft squish. Her walls could barely grip him, something she made up for by wrapping her legs around his lissome frame and locking him in place. He vibrated between her thighs. Stella barely felt anything.

"Well, nothing to hold you back anymore and that's all you can muster?" She scoffed. "I've had men who'd have broken me to the womb by now."

Moxxie couldn't move. She was so warm, so soft, so wet. He was afraid that the wrong move would send her away. "I'm s-s-sorry..."

"Shut up and fuck me already you puny-dicked dolt."

"Y-yes ma'am." He pulled his hips back and then bucked him forward. Plap. There wasn't much maneuver room, not when his dick was short and her legs had him in a vice. He made do with what he had, fucking her at a jackhammer pace and coating his crotch with the aftermath of her previous orgasm. His face contorted. Moans belted out of his mouth. "Hahhhh! Uhhhhhh! Ohhhhh fuck!"

Stella just laughed. "Oh, look at you! Moaning like you're the one getting fucked. You said you have a wife? She probably uses dildos on you to show who the real man in the relationship is." She said all of that without a single hint of pleasure from his thrusts.

Moxxie blushed hard. "Hnnnnnnnghhh... Yeah..."

"Wait, she does?"

"Yes ma'am... Mmmm..."

Stella held her forehead and had herself a fit of uproarious laughter. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Ohhhhhhh, that's brilliant. I bet she fucks better than you do."

Moxxie just nodded.

"Mmmm, perhaps you should invite her here next time. She'll demonstrate how to properly make a woman cum, far better than you ever could with that worthless prick."

"Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhh~!" Moxxie came again, heaving his hips and spurting into her velvet. His slender legs shook violently. His bitty orbs retracted in their purse with each spurt.

Stella barely felt a thing. "That's it. Keep cumming, clit-dick."

Moxxie didn't stop there. He withdrew his cock and smeared it up and down her crease to get it hard again. The moment it was he slid it back inside and fucked her some more. His whippy imp tail would hiss through the air behind his chubby butt as he humped her. The muscles in his legs ached horribly, yet he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. He was drunk on the feel of her pussy, so hot, so wet, so cruel. He came again in short order and pulled out so he could jerk himself hard again. Cum oozed from her cunt and down the curves of her inner buttocks. The most she could feel was that and the rapidfire slap of his balls on her pucker.

"That's right," she said. "Jerk that little dick for me. Gonna try and cum again?"

Moxxie was bathed in sweat. It added to the nauseating miasma hanging over the bed like a storm cloud. "Huhhh... Huhhhh... Yes ma'am."

"Good. Fucking do it so I don't have to look at you anymore."

"Yes ma'am." His dick was rock hard again. He dove it into her pussy and fucked her some more.

His final orgasm came not as a spew but a weak dribble. The muscle in his shaft throbbed painfully, only to release a few watery drops. Moxxie shuddered and groaned atop her, his eyes crossing with twitching lids. Upon the ecstasy fading was a terrible ache in his loins. He pulled out his penis which was already totally limp. His entire lap was smeared in their collective orgasms.

Stella opened her legs for him so he could be free. "Mmmmmm, that's good. Good... Very good..." The alcohol and exhaustion had taken its toll. Next Moxxie saw she had slumped her head to the side, eyes closed. A bellowing snore echoed through her beak.

Moxxie had to sit on the edge of the bed to collect his breath. Sweat dripped from his chin and nose. Cum, both his and Stella's, reeked across his loins and face. He pinched his nose. I'm sorry Millie. He slid off the bed, put his clothes and gear back on, then climbed out the nearest window, praying that he would never have to go back there again.

To be continued...