Twokinds - A Most Agreeable Transaction
Thanks to everyone who supported the first part; it was the first story I uploaded after returning to SF, and I really appreciate** it. So, with apologies for the delay, here is part two.**
Samantha stumbled back into her small cottage just as the sun was coming up.
The Basitin had completely lost track of time. Her escapades in the medical wing had left her in a haze, drunk with lust and desire. Upon exiting the castle, she had made a beeline for the home of one of her close friends, practically breaking the door down in a horny frenzy. Jillian was usually up for a quick tussle in the sheets when either one of them found themselves hot and bothered, but after three hours of sixty-nining, even the typically resilient Bastin was completely spent.
Not to mention drenched head to toe in Samantha's seemingly endless juices.
It would be another hour of self-administered fingerblasting, laying atop the warm and inviting body of her friend, before Samantha too finally succumbed to the fatigue. Bidding Jillian goodbye with one final tongue assault on her cunt, Samantha had sauntered the remaining mile back home, reeking of her obscene acts.
Her bed was warming and inviting. And empty.
"I can't. . . I can't believe I'm doing this."
It had started out innocently enough. Vivian had been called to the castle, along with a number of other medicos, to attend to guests of the island injured during the evening's events. Her patient was a human male, in his early twenties she had guessed, blonde of hair and sporting a pair of round spectacles. Despite prohibitions on uncovering a patient's identity, she knew him as Eric Vaughan; a human slave trader whose arrival had caused quite the stir among the locals. Being as insular and suspicious of outsiders as they were, one could not simply arrive unannounced on the Basitin Islands and expect to remain anonymous.
Imagine her shock, then, when he had turned up in her surgery.
His injuries were light, a few scratches and bruises, nothing that wouldn't heal given time. His first remark upon waking had been to compliment her. He spoke honied words, praising her long, flowing blonde hair, her ears and fur, and her swishing, wavy tail. She had blushed and fumbled her words at the human's boldness; such talk was unheard of among her kind outside of the most intimate relationships. Yet, he continued, his boldness turning to outright brashness as he had reached out and run his hand down her flank, again voicing his admiration of her body. She had slapped his hand away, mouthing off choice insult in her native tongue.
How she had ended up bent over her own surgical bench, her paw thrust between her legs, wantonly spreading her sex for the young human, simply escaped her.
In spite of herself, Vivian's middle finger circled her clit a few times. "Please, Mr Vaughan, this is so shameful!"
Eric didn't respond. He had already said everything he had needed to say to win her over, even if she hadn't realised it. Vivian had only been of age for a few seasons, and was yet to garner the attention of a suitable mate. Most Basitin males were only interested in females who would sire them children, someone into whose womb they could implant the family legacy. It was always about them. Not so in Eric's case. He had apologised profusely for the unwanted touch, explaining that he was simply overcome by her exotic beauty, his artistic eye unable to refrain for ordering his hands forth to feel her fur.
He had asked if she was committed to anyone. She had said no. He had followed up with surprise, explaining that he was stunned that one such as her had been overlooked, how that any male with functioning reproductive organs should be falling over himself to get at her.
She had blushed.
The opening had been made, and Eric had moved in. He had explained that he was a painter, and had never before seen such a beautiful Basitin. He wanted to paint her. Naked.
She had refused.
He had said that no-one would find out, that they could share the taboo of her nudity alone, forever a moment between the two of them. It was exciting, alluring, it was something she had never done.
And it had made her wet.
With a silver tongue, he had commanded that she drop her clothing to the floor. Those words, soft, yet firm and confident, had sent shivers down her spine. Her heart had raced as the garments crumpled about her feet.
He had wanted her panties next.
The feeling of the fabric sliding down her legs had caused her blush to deepen, knowing full well that she had reached the point of no return. Her mind started to wander, imagining his hands roaming over, feeling her in her most private spots. Caressing, touching...
But Eric had wanted her to do that to herself. He wanted a show.
The first painting had been simple enough, with Vivian wrapped in a bedsheet and standing before him. During the affair, she had asked if she should remove her eye wrappings. Eric had told her he preferred her shrouded, that it accentuated her ears, added to her appeal.
The second painting was a little more risque. Her bare buttocks had been on display, yet she had kept both her breasts and crotch covered. Eric had become more vocal at this point, repeatedly commenting on her tail, how it flowed and waved, how he wished he could run it through his fingers and feel it, worship it.
Encouraging her to lift it.
In a way, she had obliged, parting her legs slightly and jutting her hips out. While her tail still kept her mostly modest, the pose had been undoubtedly more erotic in nature. Eric had responded by pulling chair and easel a little closer, now admiring her form from a number of angles. For a while, he had continued to paint, his words becoming heavier and heavier, laden with flirtatious innuendo, He had praised her hips, her pert buttocks, and her creamy white thighs.
And her smell.
Upon finishing the painting, he had quickly pushed his equipment to the side, and had moved himself closer still. Vivian had not been able to avoid her arousal, and the involuntary waving of her tail had served only to waft her rich, sexual scent toward the human.
And then had come the words, spoken with a silver tongue. "Let me see you, Vivian my sweet, all of you."
Whether she had done it of volition or as some involuntary reaction to the human's words was irrelevant. Her tail had lifted and her legs had further spread, parting her delicate, pink folds and exposing herself completely. He had run his hand again along her flank. This time, she had allowed it.
"Are you alright, my dear?" he had said. "There is no-one else here, you can relax, let yourself go. You're beautiful, did you know that? Stunning. Every inch of you...gorgeous."
Her breath had quickened. It was obscene, what she was doing, displaying herself like some piece of meat, but she couldn't stop. The attention was like opium, the thought of knowing that eyes were upon her, foreign eyes, was thrilling. She had to do more. All the taboo, all the restrictions and laws, they didn't matter here. She knew it was wrong, knew that she should slap this human and run, but she couldn't. She wouldn't.
Her paws had drifted. Slowly but surely, they made their way down her belly, rubbing through her fur and curling up and under her crotch. She had cupped herself, spreading her legs wider still and feeling her own heated folds for a moment before drawing one of her fingers upward and pushing it slowly into herself.
With a sudden pang of guilt she had rapidly withdrawn it.
"Vivian." Eric's voice had come, sweet and smooth. "Don't be hesitant, you've already made me the luckiest guy on the island. I'd love to watch you pleasure yourself. Do it for me, let me see how sexual you can be."
And so here she was. Without even being intimately touched, and with only a few sweet nothings whispered in her ear, she had been convinced to engage in such a lewd act, and with an audience no less. She continued to rub her clit, using her free fingers to spread her folds wider, her chest sinking down touch the surgical bench.
It didn't take long for her arousal to reach fever pitch. With the last of her inhibitions melting away, she plunged her middle two digits deep into her heated sex, rubbing furiously at her walls, moaning and whimpering in blissful agony.
"Mr Vaughan." she panted. "Is this. . . Is this what you...hnnng...wanted."
Another caress along her flank. "It's not about what I want, it's about you, Vivian."
"I want. . . I want to be beautiful!"
"You are, oh god you are."
"Tell me again, Mr Vaughan!"
"You're so beautiful, Vivian."
Her fingers moved faster, the wet sounds of the Basitin's self-administered pleasuring echoing in the stone room. Her juices began dribbling down her legs, staining her fur and filling the surgery with the obscene odours of sex.
"Do you want me?" she moaned.
"More than anything!"
Vivian let out a scream as she came about her fingers. "Then take me! OH HEAVENS, TAKE ME!"
Her paw fell from her snatch, granting Eric a now completely unobstructed view of her pulsating, spasming pussy. She thrust her hips backward, begging for attention, needing to feel herself filled, licked, fingered, fucked, anything! Anything to take away the heat and the need that a single orgasm couldn't.
When nothing but the cool air of the castle infirmary greeted her glistening lips, she dove her paw back in, again thrusting her fingers inside herself and masturbating without pause.
"Mr Vaughan, please, no-one has ever. . . I just want to be loved."
Eric's voice was softer this time. "I understand, but my heart belongs to someone else."
A tear rolled down her face. She had given everything, put her shame and her body on display, and still she remained unfulfilled. Her fingers continued to work, pumping at her snatch and bringing several more orgasms, the last one accompanied by an ear-piercing scream and a gush of juices. She had crawled up to the human, resting her head in his lap as he covered her with the bedsheet,
"You really are beautiful." said Eric, softly rubbing at her ears. "The most beautiful that I have seen."
"It's not enough." she said.
"Maybe not, but sometimes, we can't have what we want, I know that all too well. Still, that doesn't mean we can't have some fun. Thank you for the care, and for showing yourself to me. I'll send for you in a few days, if you'll allow it, and we can...entertain ourselves."
For the first time that night, Vivian smiled. "What did you have in mind?"
"You'll see."
By the time Samantha woke, it was late afternoon. Sun filtered into her bedroom, the Basitin having neglected to close the curtains before falling asleep. She had a splitting headache, courtesy of allowing herself to lay in the sun, heating her furred body and severely dehydrating her. Her medical garments were strewn about, the female Basitin having rapidly discarded them in an attempt to remove the scent of Keidran from her body.
She sat up, her paws rubbing wearily at her eyes, clearing her blurry vision somewhat. For a few moments she remained motionless, blinking in the uncomfortably bright light.
"Damn. . . "
The elation she had felt after her previous night's escapades had completely left her body, replaced now by a tired, dull weariness. Her arms and chest were tight and weary, her jaw slack and throbbing with an all consuming ache. She was sore and, despite the night's rest, still thoroughly exhausted.
And she reeked.
It wasn't the heavenly, heady feminine scent of the Keidran girl, nor the rich, earthy musk of her friend. It was stale and sour. The fur on her face, neck and forearms was matted down with the dried feminine fluids of the two girls, so much so as to be molded like a mess of heavily styled hair. It was sticky, too, the bed sheets momentarily adhering themselves to her body as she peeled herself away. It wasn't until she stood up to her full height, stretching out all the kinks and twists in her body, that she was beset by a sudden and powerful feeling of disgust.
Her eyes drifted down, fixed blankly upon her palms. ". . .Oh heavens."
Her stomach started to churn, and she felt weak in her knees. Not an illness or affliction of some manner; guilt, a feeling of intense regret and self-pity. What she had done, not just with her own body, but to another, was something that only now filled her with a deep shame. She had known it to be wrong from the start, that it amounted to rape, pure and simple, yet she had persisted. She had abused someone for her own gain, something she hadn't imagined herself doing, not in her wildest fantasies.
Worst of all, she had enjoyed it.
Samantha dashed to her washing basin, set on a table adjacent to her bed, and dry retched. Her paws gripped at the edges, her back heaving as she fought the urge to disgorge the contents of her stomach. After gagging several more times, she pushed herself up, coming to face her own reflection in the small mirror hung over the basin.
Her eyes betrayed her true desires.
Despite the shame, despite full knowledge of the sheer indecency and immoral nature of her acts, she wanted more. She had to taste Keidran again, to indulge herself in their essence, their alluring flavour and sensual, sexual scent. The urge to do so, the lusty, overwhelming need, was too much for her to fight. She would have more. She had to.
This time, however, Samantha would seek to have her affections and attentions returned. Fulfilling her sexual urges was all well and good, but she wouldn't be content with simply getting herself off. She didn't just want a young, nubile Keidran girl to play with, to lick and taste, she wanted to be played with herself. She wanted to writhe and moan under the ministrations of a soft, velvety tongue and gentle, probing fingers. To scream, shouting a foreign name as her feminine juices overflowed. Everything.
And she knew exactly who could deliver.
Orders were orders.
The council of generals had instructed that she follow Keith Keiser, newly appointed to the rank of general, on his journey as he executed his charge as ambassador of the Basitin Monarchy. Of course, when they had said 'follow', they really meant 'spy'. Even with the support and blessing of The King, there was still deep mistrust among the ministers and generals for the son of Cornelius Keiser. Keith was seen as brash, rude, even treacherous, not at all befitting the rank or position with which he bad been entrusted. King Adelaide, however, had seen promise in the young Basitin, as had the late General Alaric. With the two most powerful people in the monarchy on side, the rest of the council had little recourse.
So now here she was.
Officially, Madelyn's orders were to ensure that he acted within the interests of the Monarchy, nothing more, nothing less. On a personal note, however, she had her own reasons for volunteering to tail him. She had seen Keith fight, not once, but twice. He had been rather. . . Spectacular. There was a certain savage grace about him; how he eschewed the oft-taught methods in favour of a more unpredictable, ferocious combat style. Never much for rules and traditions, she found the fact that Keith too had displayed a noticeable disregard for the established order to be somewhat enticing. Alluring even.
And it didn't hurt that he was rather cute.
Slipping aboard the ship had proved trivial. A few easily distracted guard, a hop and a jump, and she had found herself on the deck. A few slack-jawed Keidran slaves milled about, carrying crates of goods purchased or traded for on the island, or attending to various aspects of the ship. There would be numerous hiding locations, and a good deal of produce to steal should she need sustenance.
Deftly avoiding the few guards, Madelyn slipped into the hold and disappeared from sight.
What little remained of her working day passed without any major incident, with nothing more serious to attend to than a few minor scrapes and bruises. In light of her failure to open her clinic at the usual hour, she he continued working into the evening, though the almost complete lack of patients still saw her put in a less-than-complete day of work. As the last of her charges left, wandering back home, still slightly ashamed at having sought medical attention, she proceeded to close up shop. On a typical day, she would stow her elixirs and tinctures in her medicine cabinet, stash away her tools and bandages, and simply lock the door before returning home.
Tonight, however, would be very, very different. Instead of retiring for the evening, Samantha chose to stay behind, thoroughly scrubbing and cleaning herself. Lathering soap over her entire body, she dedicated a good forty five minutes to the task. She washed and trimmed her fur, paying special attention to the areas that had received the worst of the previous night's liquid lavishings. Beyond simply longing, and needing, to be clean, she wanted to be presentable. Attractive, even. For whoever would hopefully be servicing her, she wanted to strike them with her beauty, her alluring form and sensuous curves.
After a meticulous drying of her fur, she donned her dress, a fairly modest little number, cropped off just below the knees and held to her torso by straps. By the standards that were considered appropriate for venturing into the male residential districts, it likely skirted the boundaries, but the hour was late, there would be few Basitins about.
"Alright, Sam, here we go. . . "
The walk to the docks had her more highly strung than she had anticipated. Though relatively deserted, walking through the male quarter was uncomfortable at the best of times. The phantom stares of imagined eyes followed her, sizing her up like a piece of meat. Occasionally, a drunkard or beggar would approach her, soliciting either money or company. She would wave them away, paying little heed to their plight. Basitin society placed a great emphasis on individual pride and self-sufficiency; begging was unseemly, and losing one's composure in public was a surefire way in which to run afoul of the the town guards.
Of course, a lone, female Basitin, outside her allotted residency district after hours might attract similar attention from the constabulary.
Fortunately for Samantha, the previous evening's rather catastrophic events had most the guards otherwise occupied, and kept the majority of the populace inside, fearful of this bizarre, foreign magic. She would be lying if she said it didn't cause her some degree of concern, but there was nothing to suggest any ongoing danger. However, she was horny, and one's libido had a tendency to override one's common sense.
The docks themselves were a little more active, with several crews working later into the evening present, loading and unloading goods, tieing down sails and stowing rigging. There was a distinctive smell in the air, a mixture of salt and tar. Samantha had only been down here a few times, usually to sign for medical supplies from the mainland or to see off a colleague sent to study abroad at a prestigious human medical college. She didn't much care for it.
The ship was easy enough to locate. Ostentatious, gaudy and embellished with a variety of sculpted bulkheads and carvings, it was a far cry from the low, sleek and practical Basitin sloops. The ship of a trader, no doubt, one who thought rather highly of himself.
And one who was widely known to trade in Keidran slaves.
Gingerly, she approached the ship, slipping past a few workers and making for the boarding ramp. There was only a single guard; a dreary, dull looking dog Keidran, listening holding a spear and leaning against a stack of crates. His eyes stared directly ahead, unblinking and without focus. Easy to fool, easy to slip past.
Or so she thought.
"Halt!"
The cry rang out across the dock in thickly accented, broken Basitin. The Keidran's command of her language was poor, but the urgency and authority with which he had barked the order was enough. She stopped dead in her tracks, slowly turning around to face the tip of a spear.
"Oh! I'm sorry." she said, trying to brush the misunderstanding aside. In truth, her heart had leapt into her throat, and she was trembling from the adrenaline rush.
"I'm here to discuss some business with your master. Can you take me to him?"
"Master?" The guard did not appear to have understood. His paw went to his chin, as if in thought, yet the complete lack of expression in both his eyes and facial muscles suggested he was just confused.
"Oh . . I, um." she battled with her own words momentarily, making the transition to what little Keidran she spoke.
<Master. Here. I want.>
Samantha wasn't sure if she had said the right thing, or even if her words had made sense. Still, the guard must have understood her, at least in part, and made his way up the ramp to converse with another Keidran. After a brief conversation, he pointed his spear down the ramp at Samantha.
<You. Here.>
Though the bounce in her step hinted at her eagerness, it was not entirely without trepidation that she made her way up the ramp towards the waiting Keidrans. Standing as close as she was, she was finally able to inspect the male up close. There was certainly a wildness to him, even if he appeared to be bored out of his wits. She could smell his musk, and though not as thick as the females she had experienced, it was certainly more invigorating than that of a Basitin.
She might have to give the males of the species a chance, too.
It was, however, the female that the guard had spoken to that caught her eye. Spotted and bubbly, with an ample bust and soft, feminine features; she was of a breed that Samantha had not seen before, and almost looked to be a mix of several different tribes. Her fur was marvelously well kept, groomed and perfumed, with more than a little of it on show, courtesy of her rather revealing outfit. It didn't seem to issue her with much bother, and her smile had a certain captivating charm about it, playful, though with a hint of genuine compassion and affection.
She was exceptionally attractive.
"Hi there!" She spoke in flawless Human Common, a language which Samantha had a far better understanding of than Keidran. "I'm Kathrin. What brings you out here?"
The weight of her intentions suddenly hit the female Basitin, and she shied away from the question. "Oh...um...I was hoping to talk to your master, if that's okay?"
Kathrin cocked her head to the side. "You want to talk to Eric? About what? It's rather late, don't you think!"
"I know that, but, I didn't want to come during the day, it's...rather embarrassing."
The female Keidran's eyes narrowed. "Really? Are you a customer?"
"Customer?"
"You must know what Master Eric trades in, it's not just mainland goods, it's. . . I'm sure you're aware. Are you here to buy?"
"What? No! It's not, quite like that."
Briefly, Samantha had entertained the idea of purchasing a slave. Island laws had outlawed the practice long ago, but as Keidran were tolerated, even those that may be enslaved, she was confident any little pet she might pick up would go unnoticed. But no, she didn't want to buy, she didn't need to.
"In that case." continued Kathrin. "Is there something else we can do for you."
"I. . . hope so. I have a rather specific request."
She couldn't bring herself to outright say it, not in front of a stranger. Though she would have to eventually talk to this Eric, facing herself like this, her own, sordid desires, was a little more than he felt comfortable with at the moment.
Kathrin, however, seemed to have clued in to the sensitive nature of her visit.
"Well you better come along then." she said. "Mr Eric doesn't usually receive guests so late, but I'm sure he could make an exception...just for you."
Sheepishly, Samantha followed Kathrin aboard, walking across the deck before descending into the belly of the ship. The interior too was decorated, with numerous muggings and tapestries covering the otherwise bare wood. The air was pleasantly balmy and thick with the scent of incense; a comforting, homely fragrance. Kathrin led her towards the aft of the ship, down several further sets of steps, deeper and deeper. The ship was not large, and before long, they arrived at a heavy set of ornate wooden doors. A flickering orange glow emanated from within, warm and inviting.
Knocking a few ties, Kathrin announced herself, then pushed the doors inward. A rush of heated air billowed forth, flowing over Samantha, warming her fur and tickling at her senses.
A man, clad in a purple nightgown and flanked by two kneeling Keidran clothed in little more than a piece of cloth about their hips, beckoned Samantha inward.
"Good evening, my dear." he said, his voice soft and soothing. "I'm very happy to make your acquaintance."
Madelyn had wormed her way into the crawl space between decks. There were still a good number of crew working, and she was yet to find herself a more suitable hiding location. A recent commotion above, the arrival of a visitor it would seem, had disturbed some of the nearby guards, and sent them thundering over the decking just above her stowaway. Rather than risk being caught out, she had rapidly and without hesitation relocated, shuffling along the crawl space towards the af of the ship. As quick and light as she was, it had been slow going. Slow and dirty.
Pushing along, she came to settle above what she assumed was the captain's cabin, or at the very least a lavish and well appointed stateroom. Peering down through the gaps in the planking, she noticed a number of figures, a human, several Keidran and. . . A Basitin?
She wasn't sure if she recognised the female, but something about her was familiar.
Samantha was, without doubt, more nervous than she could ever remember having been in her life. Eric had been sweet and courteous enough, kissing her offered paw and seating her gently upon a luxurious chaise lounge, though his mannerisms served only to heighten her concern. Whatever would come next, she would be loath for it to ever be discussed outside this room. Such obscene rendezvous were against almost every law regarding morality and decency that the Basitin Monarchy had passed.
And Eric seemed to understand that.
He had already dismissed all but two of his Keidrans, those at his feet, along with Kathrin, who now sat on the armrest of his chair, errantly playing with the curls of his hair. He smiled over at Samantha, his eyes sparkling with excitement beneath his spectacles.
"Please, my dear, tell me how I may be of service?"
"Oh!" Samantha had expected their discussion to be purely business, that she would explain her needs before proceeding to discuss price. "I would. . . Like to talk about Keidran with you."
"Kedran?" asked Eric with a furrowed brow. "I was not aware that your kind had much interest in them."
"We don't, usually. I am. . . Here for myself. If you don't mind, I would like to discuss it in private."
Eric dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "Please, you need not concern yourself with these two, they couldn't repeat what they might overhear even if they wanted to. As for Kathrin, I would trust her with my life, I'm sure she will remain discreet over whatever matter you wish to discuss."
Samantha gulped. If she was indeed going through with this, it appeared it would be on Eric's terms. She had little room to bargain and, apart from the gold in her purse, nothing of value she could offer.
"Okay, Eric." she started, sitting up and placing her paws in her lap. "I would. . . like a Keidran."
"You wish to purchase?" queried Eric, a little taken aback by her surprisingly forthcoming request. "I am sure we can make an arrangement, but I was under the impression that slavery had been outlawed on the islands."
Samantha shut her eyes. "No! I don't want to buy one. . . I want. . ."
Her already wavering voice had finally cracked, and she had stammered, with what few words she managed forcing their way out as alarmed squeaks.
"Oh?" Eric's face split into a grin. Leaning forward, he spoke now in a distinctly lower, more suggestive tone. "Perhaps you are aware then, that my products can provide all manner of services."
Samantha shook her head. "I hadn't heard anything. . . But I had hoped."
"Hoped for what, my dear?"
"That I could have one to. . . to. . . play with."
Eric returned to his casual sitting position, his hands now clasped in front of him, and his smile still plastered across his face. "I see. I understand that Basitins typically have a very narrow mating window each year, it is not a surprise that you might seek additional companionship outside of this. Far be it from me to judge, mind you, I have my own. . . Tastes."
As the last few words left his lips, Eric ran a finger up the bare spine of one of the Keidrans in front of im, eliciting a shudder from her tiny form. For a brief moment, he showed no outward sign of remembering that he had company, instead choosing to scratch at the female, tickling gently behind her ears and running his hand down her neck.
"I can make a selection of males available to you, depending on your preference, they each have. . ."
"Female!"
Eric blinked a few times. "Excuse me?"
"I want a female!" Samantha blushed furiously.
"Oh. . . I see. What is your name, my dear?"
"Samantha." she replied hastily. "I have money! I just want. . ."
Eric raised his eyebrow, settling forward in his chair a little. "Samantha. . . Such a lovely name. Please, let us not concern ourselves with money, it has a nasty habit of distancing us from each other. I am very wealthy, and have little need for the coin brought in by the sale of a single slave. There is so much more you can offer me, Samantha, and in return, I can offer you whatever you may desire."
"Um. . . and what do you want?"
"To watch."
Samantha felt a tingle run up her loins at mention of that word. Performing such acts in private, where no-one could see, where she could indulge her every whim and fancy without fear of judgement or consequence, that had been the trigger. That had been the circumstances that had set her libdo on this untrodden, forbidden path. But that path was now known to her.
The prospect of an audience; it was terrifying. It was alarming. How could she possibly bring herself to do that, it would be an utter obscenity!
And yet, the same images danced about her head; the slender, naked forms of Keidrans, presenting themselves to her, offering themselves, begging her for attention and ministrations.
Dripping wet and ready.
Her own legs spread wide in disgrace and shame, their savage, wild tongues working at her folds, bringing her to screaming orgasm after screaming orgasm.
Her paws on their fur, their fingers in her most intimate place.
And leering eyes, watching over her, drinking her up, tasting her pleasure with their gaze. Her flushed cheeks and pained expression on display, and every inch of her being inspected, judged, eaten up.
She mashed her thighs together involuntarily. "I don't know about that. . ."
It was Kathrin's turn to speak. Sliding along the arm of the chair, she ran her paws down her flanks, posing sensually at Eric's side as she eyed up Samantha.
"This one is going to be fun, Eric." she said, her voice positively oozing with seduction. "Can I play with her?"
"Come now." he chided. "We must be polite, our guest can choose for herself."
Samantha shot her paws out to protest. "Oh, no no no! Please, not like that! I don't want to upset anyone, If they'll...um...have me, then I'd like to try...whoever...is interested."
A low chuckle escaped Eric's mouth. "Oh, Samantha, so considerate of you, but completely unnecessary. Perhaps you are not aware, but Human law requires that all enslaved Keidrans be placed under a control spell. It's harmless, really, but ensures their obedience. We can't have them running amok now, can we!"
Naturally, the two females at his feet didn't share in his enthusiasm. Harmless as it may be, from Samantha's perspective, the spell appeared to rob the target of their. . . individuality, perhaps. At the very least, and judging by the guard she had come across earlier, it wasn't entirely as harmless as Eric had suggested.
"So." he continued. "Would you like to start with one of these two? I can always make more available, if they aren't to your liking."
"Okay." she started, nervously shifting on the couch. "I. . . I can't really decide."
Eric leaned over, whispering a few words in Kathrin's ear before gently nudging one of the kneeling Keidrans forward, a feline like Samantha's little tiger toy had been, though with leopard markings and, if at all possibly, even more slender and lithe.
"Try this one, she's lovely. Very flexible." said Eric, motioning for the grey furred Keidran to stand. "Arabella, please show yourself to our guest, make sure she gets a good look."
The female Keidran slowly paced forward, stripping of her tiny piece of clothing and letting it fall to the floor. She sensually strode the final few steps, stopping just in front of Samantha, canting her hips ever so slightly to one side. Arabella's breasts were small, but shapely and firm, well proportioned on her tiny frame. Her tail swished and flicked behind her, wafting her tender, feminine scent across the room.
Samantha felt the heat build in her own loins.
Arabella leaned in, placing her paws on Samantha's shoulders and whisper in her ear. "What would you like to see."
Without waiting for an answer, she stood up, though not without running a finger under the Basitin's chin, flicking it off the end of her muzzle before bringing it to her own mouth. "Hmm, tasty."
As the suckled on the digit, she slowly turned about, her back now facing samantha. Spreading her legs into a wide stance, she flagged her tail upward and exposed her nethers, already puffed and willing, dripping with moisture and exuding the most delicious, exotic scent. Her paws fell down, resting upon her hips as she gyrated them slowly, dancing a little for Samantha, showing of her every curve and grasping a little at her own, pert buttocks.
"I'm going to play with myself. You can join in if you want."
Arabella's paw drifted across her belly, rubbing up and under her thighs, cupping her sex. With her fingers, she parted her folds, thrusting backward with her hips at the same time, giving Samantha the most glorious eyeful; a heated, steaming Keidran pussy, inches from her face.
From her mouth.
From her tongue.
The urge to plunge her head forward was nearly overwhelming, though she wanted to watch for just a bit longer, tease and torment herself with self-imposed restraint, ensuring that her eventually release would be all the most powerful.
Arabella caught on, and slowly dipped a finger into herself. She writhed it about inside her snatch, pressing and rubbing at the walls of her love tunnel, the obscene, wet sucking sounds of her masturbation filling the room. Her lips parted, her tongue hanging out ever so slightly as she let for a series of small gasps.
"Do you like that? Do you want some?"
Samantha reached out, her paws trembling slightly as she tentatively took the Keidran about the wrist, pulling her still-pumping fingers from her cunt. Arabella gasped at the sudden loss of sensation, jumping forward a little, putting her delicious wetness just out of Samantha's reach.
"Ah! Sorry!"
Arabella turned about, tut-tutting Samantha with her finger. "Bad little Basitin!"
"Come now, Arabella." interrupted Eric. "Let's not make our guest feel uncomfortable. Speaking of which. . ."
He leaned down, talking softly to the Keidran still seated at his feet, a fox tribe this time, fuller and more voluptuous than Arabella, and with a far bushier tail.
"You must be awfully hot in those clothes. Vivii is very gentle, she'll help you get comfortable." said Eric, urging the fox Keidran forward.
"Arabella." he continued. "Why don't you show Samantha your little trick?"
"Aww, master, you know that hurts my neck!"
Eric's voice took on a noticeably stern tone. "Arabella. . ."
For the briefest, most fleeting of moments, Samantha saw that same dull look in Arabella's eyes as she had in those of the guard. Her pupils glazed over, her jaw slackening and shoulders slumping. It was as if she had lost all sense of self, if only for a moment.
"Yes. . . Master."
Having acknowledged Eric's command, the spark of desire flooded back into Arabella's eyes. She grinned widely, flashing her teeth as she sauntered the few steps back toward Samantha. Gently, set sat herself down at the enter end of the sofa, curling her legs up and running her fingers along Samantha's calf. Behind her, Vivii slid up, placing her paws gently on the Basitin's shoulders.
"Just watch Arabella, Eric has her do this for hours on end, she's very, very good. . ."
As Vivii slowly pushed the straps of Samantha's dress over her shoulders, Arabella moved into position. Sitting at Samantha's feet, she raised her own legs upward and outward, spreading her pussy wantonly, beads of moisture now running down her buttocks, leaking from her honeypot.
Arabella didn't stop there. Her long, slender legs continued to bend backward, further displaying her most intimate parts as they curled up and behind her, locking behind her head. Samantha watched in erotic fascination, her clothes being steadily stripped by the vixen, as the leopard girl dipped her finger into herself again, pumping in and out a few times before bringing it to her lips. She took the digit in her mouth, suckling and licking her own juices from it with a low moan.
"You know," she said, removing her finger and settling her paws on either side of her sex. "I rather enjoy doing this, and it's nice to have. . . an audience."
Gripping at herself, Arabella lowered her canine muzzle, dipping it lower and lower. Samantha's eyes went wide, there was no way, no way she could...
But there was.
A purr escaped Arabella's throat as her tongue met her own, soaked pussy. Shutting her eyes, she started to lick, plunging her tongue between her folds, scooping out and tasting her own musky essence. Her own flavour hit her in a single, powerful, intoxicating rush. Arabella's efforts doubled, licking Her nostrils flared, and she clamped her lips down, eating herself out with a wild fury, slurping and licking, running her tongue over her clit, up and down her slit, plunging it into her tunnel and working it madly about.
"Ohhhhh. . ." she moaned into her own snatch, breaking the seal of her lips just long enough to steamily voice her ecstasy. "I love pussy. . . I love pussy. . ."
How Samantha wished she could do that! To pleasure herself so intensely, so utterly, it was a fantasy she likely shared with a great deal of the island's female population. She had her doubts that it was even possible, yet here it was. A young, slender Keidran was bent over in front of her, ravishing her own vagina with her own tongue. It was obscene, erotic, the most depraved act Samantha had yet seen.
And she was loving every second of it.
She didn't even notice as her dress fell free from her body, Vivii's paws now working at her breasts. Arabelle continued her act, now lashing her tongue back and forth across her erect clit, her body shuddering as release built within.
"Please!" shouted Samantha. "I want to taste it, let me taste you!"
Her attempts to move forward, to join with the Keidran currently licking her own pussy and add her tongue to the mix, here stopped by the body of Vivii sliding over her from behind. She had already discarded her own meager coverings, and slipped down, her heavy breasts sliding across Samantha's shoulder, down her own chest before settling on her belly. Samantha's vision was filled with her orange fur, gliding sensually over her own exposed body. First came Vivii's breasts, each furred globe running over her face and trailing down. Then came the belly, tight and taut, a creamy white where the rest of her was a deep, rich red.
And then, her senses went into overload.
Vivii's crotch came into view, her legs now wrapped up and around Samantha's head. Her folds were already parted and dripping wet, her honey already being smeared across the Basitin's muzzle as she thrust her hips backward. Samantha's paws shot to Vivii's rear, pulling her pussy to her lips and devouring her mercilessly. Her own legs were forcefully parted, her panties yanked to the side as Vivii reciprocated, plunging her own muzzle into the Basitin's pulsating, wet folds.
This was what she wanted; this carnal, wild copulation! To feel that tongue, smooth and wet, tasting at her, teasing her, sending rousing surges of euphoric bliss to all parts of her body. Her own hunger was insatiable; she ate and licked and tongued with single-minded purpose. The fox's cunt spasmed at her attentions, quivering under the furiously lapping tongue.
"More. . ."
She squashed the delicious folds harder against her muzzle, wanting nothing more than to eat deeper, lick this fox cunt out, to orally assault the deepest and most sensitive parts of her plaything. She moaned into the Keidran's pussy as her own nethers were devoured with equal fervor, bucking her hips and thrusting herself upward, all but lifting the pair of them from the couch as they continued their outrageous, shameless sixty nine. Samantha felt the spasming and contracting of Vivii's petals increase as she continued her relentless tonguing, along with both the wetness and heat. Juices dribbled down her muzzle, staining her chest fur and leaking onto the sofa. Vivii's moans too, increased, both volume and frequency, the Keidran now all but screaming into Samantha's womanhood.
But Vivii had done this before.
Lashing her tongue out, she buried it in Samantha's labia, circling her entrance before slurping upward, finishing with a hard suck of her clit. Samantha gasped, pulling her muzzle from Vivii's sex and drawing in a sharp gasp. Vivii suckled harder, pulling and rolling the Basitin's clit between her lips and attacking the end with her tongue.
And harder.
When Vivii added two of her fingers to the mix, it took only seconds for Samantha to crest her orgasmic peak. She screamed. She screamed in Basitin, Human and what little Keidran she spoke, yelling Vivii's name at the top of her lungs, losing all semblance of control as her cunt spasmed and gushed, drenching her lover's face with her nectar.
Vivii continued to lap at her pussy, her efforts only increasing in their intensity as the Basitin came.
Whatever she thought pleasure may have been, whatever her fingers may have been able to bring here, this eclipsed it tenfold. Her head fell sideways, tongue lolling from her mouth as she shuddered and convulsed, completely overwhelmed by the unending torrent of pleasure.
Arabella had already cum twice.
On her third, the leopard girl squirted into her own mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks and mixing with the heavenly juices as they flowed from her muzzle, her tiny maw simple unable to cope as she continued to tongue and eat herself into orgasmic oblivion. She too, was crying out, a wail of rapture muffled by her own cunt. Even as her orgasm subsided, she continued, licking anew as she sought to coax more fluid from herself, to rise to another crescendo and crash yet again.
With her mind a fog, the only thoughts those of the delicious pussy once again pressed firmly into her muzzle, and of the tongue savaging her own nethers, Samantha heard Eric's softly spoken voice.
She craned her head, turning to face the human trader. Kathrin was writhing and squirming atop him in the chair, her own fingers working herself into a frenzy, the stain across his lap suggesting she too had met with release at least once.
"I may have neglected to mention, once you issue a command, they won't stop. Not until you order them to. And by you, I mean me."
Samantha didn't care. She couldn't.
"You're in for a wild night, my dear."
Thanks for reading! I hope to concentrate a little more on original content, rather than simple write fanfic, over the coming weeks. Still, if people enjoyed this, I'm happy to write some more. One of my favourite pairings in Twokinds is Keith x Madelyn, anyone wants to see some sexy times between those two?
Something that I had commented to me; my writing is apparently very 'mechanical' in nature, especially during sex scenes. I try to make it flow nicely, ad to read easily, but perhaps I am failing? If this is something that anyone else has noticed, please let me know! I'd love to be able to improve in this regard. Don't hold back!
Thanks again!