ARC 6-Winter War-50
As expected, the caravan is safe and sound, every brick and beam of wood accounted for. The Squiddies’ goodwill did not extend to delaying their schedule for an indefinite amount of time, they couldn’t have known we’d only be gone for one night, and so they have departed. A welcome surprise.
After over a week with no incidents, I’m beginning to seriously doubt the hunters of Quest will make a move. If not, there’s no reason to travel with a bunch of jealous acolytes who actually complained to their leader that I was having fun and didn’t invite them.
Alana and I load the supplies into one of the covered wagons. Food is a bit too precious to simply hitch to the back of the caravan. Nothing has been brave enough to attack us yet, but if we leave food at the end of our wagon train like bait at the end of a string, something is bound to bite. The empty wagon is put at the end. No sense in wasting it.
Grabbing Alana’s hand, I grin as I lead her to the carriage. She can’t hear what’s going on inside but I can. Seems my wife took my absence well. I expected nothing less.
As the door swings open, I practically drown in the heavy musk of sex that rolls out. Even Alana, with her duller senses, is affected. Or perhaps it’s what’s inside that makes her suppress a surprised yelp and squeeze my hand.
Seated on one of the benches is Kierra, completely naked and utterly relaxed as she sips from a bottle of Herbanacle, from the smell. The sunlight illuminates her body, her summer green skin glowing under the golden light, but doesn’t reach her narrowed eyes, giving her a dangerous air. It’s not helped by her smile that flashes her overly sharp canines.
On the opposite bench is a scene that would have shocked the me before marrying my deviant of a wife. My lovely imp has reverted to her virtue form, a woman carved from living stone, dark as a moonless night besides the twin pools of lava that are her eyes, a crown of curved horns across her brow. Seated in her lap is Cloud, also naked, a mix of toned bronze skin and dark brown fur. One of her hands grasps a horn while the other is pressed against the wall in front of her.
She doesn’t seem aware of our presence as she raises herself high, exposing the thick black cock attached to the succubus that was previously sheathed inside her. Then she slams back down, letting out a deep groan.
Bell’s eyes glow as she channels her magic. Her mouth opens and a slimy black tongue, thick and long, rolls out. Saints, that thing is farlonger than mine. It’s more like a tail. I don’t know how she plans on fitting that back in her mouth but she clearly has no intentions of doing so soon as she runs it over every bit of skin she can reach. It eventually comes back to Cloud’s neck and wraps around it, cutting off her moans.
While the tamer gasps for breath, Bell grasps her under the arms, lifting her up before slamming her down, thrusting her hips to meet her. Faster and faster, Cloud’s choked off moans growing breathier and coming more rapidly.
“Lou!” my wife greets cheerfully, completely unconcerned about the young woman getting brutally fucked by a succubus an arm length away from her. Or perhaps that’s the reason for her good mood. No telling with this elf.
I grin as I pull a slightly hesitant Alana into the carriage, settling her beside me as I sit beside Kierra. She pulls me into a hug and I naturally bury my nose between her breasts. Mm, never get tired of this. “I missed you.”
“After only one night?” she asks with a chuckle. A hand moves through my hair. “My Lou is so spoiled. Alana. You’re injured.” Her words are laced with a question and a hint of danger. She may think of Alana as my “flower” but she is a part of our house. My wife won’t take kindly to anything threatening her.
“Hm?” I don’t need to turn to know the future saint was too absorbed in the show producing the wet smacking sounds throughout the carriage to be paying proper attention.
“Your wounds.”
“Oh. They’re just scratches.” I’m forced backward as my wife leans toward her. I can guess she’s healing the scratches and bruises, as there is no reason to leave them. Alana’s quiet thanks confirms my theory.
“What injured you?”
“A small disagreement.”
Oh no, she doesn’t. “She fought a whole village of men,” I brag for her, raising my head from my wife’s chest. “Kicked all of their asses while managing not to hurt them.”
Kierra’s eyes practically sparkle and Alana’s turns her head as the elf’s smile widens. “Battle wounds?”
“It was hardly a battle. I was fighting farmers and miners. It’s better described as knocking sense into squabbling children.”
“Children wielding spears and knives.”
“They dropped their weapons!”
“Only because they were scared of you.”
“A victory is a victory,” Kierra interrupts, her tone brokering no argument. “And victories must be celebrated, lest you invite misfortune in your next battle.” She passes over the bottle of Herbanacle. After a moment of grumbling, Alana takes it with a roll of her eyes. Distracted, she is not at all prepared for my wife to grab her. I deftly move aside as she is settled on Kierra’s lap.
“Hey! You—" Her protest are cut off by Kierra’s kiss. Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t try to complain for long. Away from prying eyes, Sweet Alana makes an appearance, the confident knight who scolded an entire village turning into a shy maiden as Kierra pulls her closer.
A flash of light catches my eye and I turn to a corner of the carriage. Rolly hovers there, a faint pink, lounging in the air. She waves a small hand at me before winking out of sight.
Chuckling, I scoot to the end of the bench and stick my head out of the carriage, mentally calling for the last member of our group. In moments, she rounds the back of the carriage, white dress billowing from a sudden breeze. “You called, my summoner?” she asks sweetly, pink eyes reminding me of the peeping elemental in my carriage.
“Can you get us moving?”
“Are you sure? It would make certain…celebrations a bit harder, wouldn’t it?”
“That just makes it more fun, hehe.”
“Indeed.”
“Honestly? I’m sick of traveling. More than ready for this trip to be over with.”
“I take it we will not be rejoining the Grand Squires?”
“Saints, no! Skirt around those idiots and get us to Victory.”
“As you wish, my summoner.”
On a whim, I shift to my hand to my elemental form and hold out a finger. She’s as eager as ever to bite off a piece of me, tail whipping fast enough to stir up a small breeze as she walks off. Chuckling, I shift back and close the carriage door. The moans surrounding me grow louder, echoing faintly.
Mm. I have a feeling the journey will be a lot more fun from now on.
ARC 6-Winter War-50
As expected, the caravan is safe and sound, every brick and beam of wood accounted for. The Squiddies’ goodwill did not extend to delaying their schedule for an indefinite amount of time, they couldn’t have known we’d only be gone for one night, and so they have departed. A welcome surprise.
After over a week with no incidents, I’m beginning to seriously doubt the hunters of Quest will make a move. If not, there’s no reason to travel with a bunch of jealous acolytes who actually complained to their leader that I was having fun and didn’t invite them.
Alana and I load the supplies into one of the covered wagons. Food is a bit too precious to simply hitch to the back of the caravan. Nothing has been brave enough to attack us yet, but if we leave food at the end of our wagon train like bait at the end of a string, something is bound to bite. The empty wagon is put at the end. No sense in wasting it.
Grabbing Alana’s hand, I grin as I lead her to the carriage. She can’t hear what’s going on inside but I can. Seems my wife took my absence well. I expected nothing less.
As the door swings open, I practically drown in the heavy musk of sex that rolls out. Even Alana, with her duller senses, is affected. Or perhaps it’s what’s inside that makes her suppress a surprised yelp and squeeze my hand.
Seated on one of the benches is Kierra, completely naked and utterly relaxed as she sips from a bottle of Herbanacle, from the smell. The sunlight illuminates her body, her summer green skin glowing under the golden light, but doesn’t reach her narrowed eyes, giving her a dangerous air. It’s not helped by her smile that flashes her overly sharp canines.
On the opposite bench is a scene that would have shocked the me before marrying my deviant of a wife. My lovely imp has reverted to her virtue form, a woman carved from living stone, dark as a moonless night besides the twin pools of lava that are her eyes, a crown of curved horns across her brow. Seated in her lap is Cloud, also naked, a mix of toned bronze skin and dark brown fur. One of her hands grasps a horn while the other is pressed against the wall in front of her.
She doesn’t seem aware of our presence as she raises herself high, exposing the thick black cock attached to the succubus that was previously sheathed inside her. Then she slams back down, letting out a deep groan.
Bell’s eyes glow as she channels her magic. Her mouth opens and a slimy black tongue, thick and long, rolls out. Saints, that thing is farlonger than mine. It’s more like a tail. I don’t know how she plans on fitting that back in her mouth but she clearly has no intentions of doing so soon as she runs it over every bit of skin she can reach. It eventually comes back to Cloud’s neck and wraps around it, cutting off her moans.
While the tamer gasps for breath, Bell grasps her under the arms, lifting her up before slamming her down, thrusting her hips to meet her. Faster and faster, Cloud’s choked off moans growing breathier and coming more rapidly.
“Lou!” my wife greets cheerfully, completely unconcerned about the young woman getting brutally fucked by a succubus an arm length away from her. Or perhaps that’s the reason for her good mood. No telling with this elf.
I grin as I pull a slightly hesitant Alana into the carriage, settling her beside me as I sit beside Kierra. She pulls me into a hug and I naturally bury my nose between her breasts. Mm, never get tired of this. “I missed you.”
“After only one night?” she asks with a chuckle. A hand moves through my hair. “My Lou is so spoiled. Alana. You’re injured.” Her words are laced with a question and a hint of danger. She may think of Alana as my “flower” but she is a part of our house. My wife won’t take kindly to anything threatening her.
“Hm?” I don’t need to turn to know the future saint was too absorbed in the show producing the wet smacking sounds throughout the carriage to be paying proper attention.
“Your wounds.”
“Oh. They’re just scratches.” I’m forced backward as my wife leans toward her. I can guess she’s healing the scratches and bruises, as there is no reason to leave them. Alana’s quiet thanks confirms my theory.
“What injured you?”
“A small disagreement.”
Oh no, she doesn’t. “She fought a whole village of men,” I brag for her, raising my head from my wife’s chest. “Kicked all of their asses while managing not to hurt them.”
Kierra’s eyes practically sparkle and Alana’s turns her head as the elf’s smile widens. “Battle wounds?”
“It was hardly a battle. I was fighting farmers and miners. It’s better described as knocking sense into squabbling children.”
“Children wielding spears and knives.”
“They dropped their weapons!”
“Only because they were scared of you.”
“A victory is a victory,” Kierra interrupts, her tone brokering no argument. “And victories must be celebrated, lest you invite misfortune in your next battle.” She passes over the bottle of Herbanacle. After a moment of grumbling, Alana takes it with a roll of her eyes. Distracted, she is not at all prepared for my wife to grab her. I deftly move aside as she is settled on Kierra’s lap.
“Hey! You—" Her protest are cut off by Kierra’s kiss. Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t try to complain for long. Away from prying eyes, Sweet Alana makes an appearance, the confident knight who scolded an entire village turning into a shy maiden as Kierra pulls her closer.
A flash of light catches my eye and I turn to a corner of the carriage. Rolly hovers there, a faint pink, lounging in the air. She waves a small hand at me before winking out of sight.
Chuckling, I scoot to the end of the bench and stick my head out of the carriage, mentally calling for the last member of our group. In moments, she rounds the back of the carriage, white dress billowing from a sudden breeze. “You called, my summoner?” she asks sweetly, pink eyes reminding me of the peeping elemental in my carriage.
“Can you get us moving?”
“Are you sure? It would make certain…celebrations a bit harder, wouldn’t it?”
“That just makes it more fun, hehe.”
“Indeed.”
“Honestly? I’m sick of traveling. More than ready for this trip to be over with.”
“I take it we will not be rejoining the Grand Squires?”
“Saints, no! Skirt around those idiots and get us to Victory.”
“As you wish, my summoner.”
On a whim, I shift to my hand to my elemental form and hold out a finger. She’s as eager as ever to bite off a piece of me, tail whipping fast enough to stir up a small breeze as she walks off. Chuckling, I shift back and close the carriage door. The moans surrounding me grow louder, echoing faintly.
Mm. I have a feeling the journey will be a lot more fun from now on.
