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Anthro Sex Squad Story 3 - Oaky's Story By Killenor Arc 1 - Origins Chapter 11

"Is the council always like this?" Myco whispered to Sassafras. He had spent the entire day tending to her. He had poured fragrant liquids upon her aged, wrinkly skin... massaged them into her. A feast's worth of delicacies had passed before him to be fed to his new mentor piece by piece as a dozen other aged toads were served in just the same way. They talked, yes, but not about anything at all important. Instead all these bumpy prunes did was chew over useless arguments, trade insults, and stuff themselves with niceties.

"You ought to be more attentive." Sassafras hissed as she exhaled a long wisp of savory steam-smoke. She motioned for Myco to attend to her waterpipe. "Just like the flame in the bowl, there is a lot more to this than you think."

Confusion settled in Myco's mind. What could be so hard about all of this? Tending the flame on a waterpipe's bowl was not a difficult thing. Neither was massaging, lotioning, feeding, fluffing... anything really. It seemed like all these old heads did was soak up luxuries like thick sponges.

Minutes stretched into hours more slowly than he could ever have believed. Myco couldn't believe how these 'simple tasks' wore at his muscles. Worse yet he had only been at it for half the day! Inwardly, he envied these old freeloaders and desired these luxuries for himself. Outwardly, though, he was content at hating them all for having what he did not.

As he found the flame well lit and Sassafras satisfied with her smoking, Myco turned to her feet. As he massaged the gnarled toes and wrinkled webbing he found himself struck with marvel that these were the same beautiful feet he had admired just the night before. Bile and lunch threatened his throat at the thought of having it off with such a wrinkled body. Eagerly he brushed it away with thoughts how she would really look this evening. As soon as she bathed in her goo...

His drifting thoughts were banished in an instant as the council chamber doors burst open. Every head turned to see the aged figure shuffle in. There were shouts of protest and mutterings of impropriety from everyone at hand. Everyone save Myco.

Myco's eyes had never beheld the Pond Watcher before, and seeing him now built a sense of awe within him. He walked with an aura of mystery and wisdom such that Myco couldn't believe that anyone else would dare question such a figure. His very clothing was worked and woven with the magicks of nature, giving it the appearance of the leaves upon the ground on the outside and bark on the inside. Over this he wore a belt made of fur that had no sign of a buckle, yet fitted his waist as perfectly as if it had grown there. Lastly, a shawl over his head, glands, and back, from which grew all manner of herbs and colorful flowers, all fresh and blooming. Legend said he had the power to divert rivers, change the weather, and cause a whole years plant growth in but a day... and his mannerisms certainly matched this in Myco's mind.

"Council, I beseech you. Listen to what I say." Grubber said in a voice that resonated throughout the council chamber. Still he was given no respect. Not a single member halted in their chatter to listen to the old toad.

The chatter turned to gasps and cries of surprise as Grubber waved his hands. At once a wind kicked up, swirling within the chamber, scattering papers and bowls of food and billowing clothing that the councilors had to grip what they wore to preserve their dignity. Another gesture caused branches and roots to grow at an alarming pace from the wooden walls of the council chamber. A third motion saw the food-insects on the floor come to life and skitter away for their lives. A moment later all the activity stopped.

"Thank you for receiving me so warmly," Grubber said in a heavily sarcastic tone. "I would have words with you all concerning the encroaching dangers to our home. I pray that you all listen and take me seriously."

Not a sound came from the councilors. Their faces were frozen in fear at what the old wizard might do next.

"I have been studying the blight which I have warned you about. Even though not one of you has done a thing to address it, our waters continue to warm. Eggs are dying, as are our children before they can even mature! Last year we only had eight new couples! Seventeen adults, counting my apprentice, made it to maturity from that clutch, and this year only six! The cicadas as well failed to emerge in their numbers this summer and the grasshoppers as well in the spring! The people are suffering and yet you do nothing!"

Myco didn't remember Grubber holding a staff when he entered, but now he banged the floor with the tip of a stout and heavy wooden one. Myco imagined for a brief moment that it had materialized from thin air just so he would have something with which to punctuate his statement.

"If things continue the way they are, all will be lost! We must make preparations to move this settlement as soon as possible! Think what you will of the rest of the community, but if nothing else do this for yourselves as you are so used to doing!"

Those powerful words fell flat, leaving the chamber in total silence. Half those attending almost dared not take a breath for fear of breaking the quiet and starting the old wizard on his rant anew. It was finally one great fat toad, Birch if Myco remembered correctly, who spoke up. His deep, croaky voice rattled the jewelry draped around his neck.

"We still have yet to see any definitive proof of your claims pond-watcher," Birch said even as he beckoned the two lovely females at his side to resume their tasks, "The community can handle a year or two of slow growth. Our money-base is still increasing thanks to our dedicated workers. There have ever been famines throughout our history. We trust you to keep our waterways clean and our villages healthy... not to blabber on with your wild doomsday fantasies. If you want us to have knee-jerk reactions, why have you not brought us PROOF yet? These last three years you have been going on about this, not a shred of evidence have you provided."

Grubber flushed with anger. "I have uncovered evidence, at last after these long years. It is unfortunate that I cannot share the evidence directly with you, else believe that I would in an instant. No, today I offer no evidence, but instead levy an accusation. The fae are the cause of the blight, but what's more, I suspect at least one of you is in league with them! If I had but one shred of evidence I would expose everyone in this council who dared harm our community!"

Once again the council chamber erupted into action. Dozens of accusatory fingers were thrust in Grubber's direction along with shouts of indignation. Shouting above the crowd, Grubber made his final statement.

"I WILL find who is responsible! Mark my words!"

And then with a clap like thunder, the pond watcher erupted into a cloud of fluttering gray and brown moths and swept like a gust out of the council chamber.

Despite himself, Myco felt a shiver of apprehension and guilt as he turned back to the attention of his ancient... and now very concerned looking... mistress.

***

Utter darkness and the sound of running water. This was all that greeted Oaky's senses as they returned to him. A great gout of water erupted from his lungs the instant he awoke, leaving him coughing and gasping for air. Something prevented his movement, though only the strain of his own muscles told him this. He was certain that he was still nude and something from the smell of the place told him he was underground.

His deep lungfuls reassured him that there was air sufficient to keep him alive at least a little while. The thought of this calmed him only a little, though, as he struggled to remember what had happened before this point. Memories of being dragged underwater, the breath being forced from him... drowning... came almost immediately. How he had not died...

Did he just hear that? Oaky strained against the darkness, certain he had heard a voice.

No... just running water. Bubbling, churning, splashing water.

A moment's concentration told him that he was above this water. Somehow adhered to the ceiling, though it felt a lot like laying in a hammock. It must be a small pocket in the underground stream that either fed or drained the lake he had been in. This place must be somewhere that sunlight had never touched.

There! It was a voice! Someone was here with him in the darkness.

"Take him to the mistress?" said a voice like churning mud, just barely audible above the water sounds "It is one of those folk... mayhap he remembers what happened to him?"

"A new plaything," a new voice said, this time merging almost perfectly with the babble of the water, "just like the last one Whisper caught."

"His destiny is heavy with weights," the mud-voice cautioned, "A danger to be considered... especially with plans coming to fruition."

"Speak naught!" the water voice babbled sharply, "A weighted one... a prodigy possibly... if nothing else a worker of magicks! If he is awake and thou dost reveal much..."

"I now think I ought agree with you. We shall let mistress decide his fate this very night."

To Oaky's renewed horror, he felt himself sucked into the mud surrounding him, dragged off to somewhere, alone and smothered the entire way.

***

Sassafras stormed through her front door, fuming her choler about the room. Myco would never have guessed those short, old arms were still so strong... especially as he witnessed her flipping a rather large table laden with vases. Sounds of more crashing pottery followed his aged mentor's rampage, missing with her guttural shouts of frustration. Milky white poison leaked from her glands, staining her fine dress and dripping with a heavy stickiness to stain the floor.

"How DARE that old rotter!" she croaked aloud, "How could he ever have gotten so close... so bold... as to barge right in on the council!"

Myco ducked and flinched reflexively as a bottle came sailing out of the pantry-area to smash against the wooden walls, splattering the boards with a strong, red liquid.

"I work for thirty years... for most of my life... to gain the favors I so rightly deserve, and he has the nerve to snoop about, seeking to undermine ME?!"

The aged female burst angrily from the pantry, her hands balled into fists, dress covered in stains. With seemingly little effort, she grabbed up a chair and threw it against the wall. Another followed shortly after. Myco was terrified by such a wrathful display, but was equally terrified at what should happen if he tried to leave.

It was quite a shock, seeing her turn on him. Myco had never seen angry eyes such as hers. In a moment she was upon him, crossing the room in a stunningly quick movement. He flinched as her hands took a surprisingly firm grip upon his glands.

"Tonight you will service me," she said with a coldness Myco found almost threatening, "I need a release."

***

Water was flowing, Oaky knew, but the blinding mud that sucked at his head and shoulders made it impossible to tell from where. His lower body dangled in open space, the only air he could touch aside the bubbles surrounding his nostrils that kept him from suffocating. Someone... something... was touching him. Touching him in a way most perverse and joyless.

Where before he had felt pleasure in such things, being with Ermana, now it was a pale shadow... something was using him.

He could feel the essences of the magicks being pulled from him. His new-found eroticka was first, but he could sense that his discomfort would be next. His mind raced with panic at the thought of being tortured. Still, no matter how violently he kicked at the hands upon him, he only felt his limbs pass through a mist.

Suddenly, thankfully, it stopped. All at once the mist disappeared and Oaky felt safer. Forcing himself into a calming meditation, he became aware of other sounds. All was muffled by the mud, but he could swear it sounded like the croaking voices of other toad-folk!

***

Myco was dragged to the fountain beneath Sassafras's home, keeping mindful to stifle his protests. His gland ached from the rough tugging, but he knew that resisting would only make it worse. Sassafras quickly and crudely shucked her robes, throwing them to a corner and motioning for Myco to do the same.

The councilor threw herself at her young attendant, taking his head in her hands and roughly shoving her tongue in his mouth. His eyes were wide at the sudden shift in attitude, worried about himself as her hands tugged his clothes the rest of the way off, apparently unsatisfied with his progress. The embrace that followed was firm, holding him in such a way that reminded him that he was not in control here.

"Service me orally," Sassafras demanded as the tonguing broke, "and perhaps you may have some enjoyment here as well."

Her hands were on his shoulders, shoving him inexorably down past her full, yet wrinkly belly to the junction betwixt firm thighs. Staring at her aged, egg-less cloaca, Myco began to wonder what he had gotten himself into in his quest for power. Tentatively, he reached out his tongue and took a lick. His eyes screwed shut in anticipation of the taste, but snapped open in surprise when he found her tasting good.

"Damos, Aaahwheewey, come." Myco heard Sassafras command, "massage me while my young friend pleases my nethers."

Focused on his task, Myco continued licking, finding the tug of his rather sticky tongue an interesting counterpoint to the unnaturally slick flesh he found between the folds of Sassafras's opening. Experimentally, he pushed his tongue inside, eliciting a moan of satisfaction from his mentor. He tried to ignore the wet slap of the mud-man's feet as Damos approached. His mind swam with nervous tension as he felt the wind-fey float over his back, recalling the outburst from the pond-watcher only hours before. Were these fey, seemingly bent only on pleasing Sassafras, really destroying anything?

Her hands were upon his glands again, tugging him forward that he might service her as she lounged upon the edge of the fountain. This, of course, forced him to crawl upon his hands and knees, edging around the muddy leavings of Damos's ever-seeping feet. Forward he went, knowing that any slowness would result in an uncomfortable tug upon his delicate glands. She continued to pull his head forward until he felt his nose bump against her groin. Now all he could do was wiggle his tongue deep inside her and hum a bit to please her more.

What she tasted like, he simply couldn't be sure, though he suspected that this had as much to do with her fey dealings as the fountain, the miracle creme, and the other fine accoutrements that she seemed to enjoy. Still, he had the task of exploring her insides with the entire length of his tongue. Judging by her croaks and moans, he was doing a fine enough job.

Myco was surprised again, first by the clenching of Sassafras's powerful muscles, and again by the burst of fluid coming from her. His head jerked back, sliding his forearm-length tongue from her powerful egg-hole. Sassafras was now taking deep breaths in an attempt to steady herself.

"You have earned my favor this night Myco," Sassafras said breathily, "now lie back and let me repay you."

Myco lay back as Sassafras moved to pleasure him. It was only by this new vantage point that he noticed something exceptionally odd, even given his current location and company.

A pair of legs hanging from the ceiling.