In which Dævara learns a new appreciation for her mother’s other profession.
(Find out who the elf Dævara is here . —GJ)
Date: 100,637:7 UT
The first world Dævara spent any time on, after visiting the constellation of her birth, was mild climated with a green sky and bright yellow sun. No magic had they, apart from illusionists’ tricks, but they knew and respected elf-kin. The Syrat, she learned, was unknown except by fearful reputation. Though no laws governed it, the practice of using the deck was forbidden by the strongest of social taboos.
Dæv settled in a temperate costal city, Piull, rented modest lodgings near the docks, and began making discrete inquiries concerning the flesh trade. Whoring was a semi-respectable profession she learned, having the sanction of law and the indifference of the average person. By the simple expedient of visiting a whore (male and human), she learned what most of the customs governing the profession in this constellation were. She concealed from the gentleman her novice status as a whore; being the child of one helped her feign an expertise she did not possess.
The majority population of Cabgorymn were olive skinned, dark-haired humans averaging seven feet in height. The largest minority were an odd semi-reptilian race whose name she could never pronounce properly: Ojvhkritt. They were violet shading to mauve. Their backs, arms (two), legs (two), and tails (two, quite long) being covered with large, shiny scales in the brighter violet. Their chests, abdomens, necks and faces (as well as palms and soles) soft, quite supple skin was coloured a pale mauve.
She set her apartments up as a crib. The front room was set up for waiting clients (complete with a large male Ojvhkritt, Garie by name, to keep the trouble makers away. The love chamber itself was furnished with bedding, pillows, soft lighting, sheer hanging veils, and a window that looked out on the sea; sparkling blue-green in the sunlight and black in light of the two red moons. Off the bedroom were kitchen and lavatory.
Not counting a few hours of freelancing the day she left Tathar and her home of Ælfen, Dæv had never fucked professionally before. And so with more than a little trepidation, she welcomed her first ever paying client as a whore.
Garie, Dævara knew, would have made sure that the client was not armed, crazed, or broke before admitting him to the apartments.
There were some things, she reflected later while recovering, that she herself should have made sure of before beginning; things like, what constituted consent in this culture and what the pain/pleasure dynamic was.
Her client called himself Vlad, a common enough name among the humans here that Dæv was sure it wasn’t his. He was short for a native, barely a foot taller than she. He was also chubby, a trait uncommon among the middle class. The scars on his hands marked him a fisherman. As her months on this world would teach her, those who plied the waves for a living would be her most frequent and well paying customers.
He reeked of the boat he must have spent the past few weeks on. Dæv suggested bathing as a good way to begin. He agreed, only the slightest of smiles touching his black eyes and began to strip his clothing off. He was hairy as well; his penis almost hidden in an unruly tangle of pubic hair.
Dævara herself wore a sarong and shawl, both of dark green silk. In an instant, she was nude as well. It was only then that she saw the first real reaction from her inaugural client. There were few elves in the city; few in this constellation, in fact. Dævara Tatharsdottir would stand out even in a crowd of them. She was just under five feet in height, but with the curves of a woman. Her skin was alabaster and sparkled like silver dust. Her blush, when it bloomed, was the palest blue. Small teats were capped with frosted blue areolas. The auburn glory of her hair (ringlets cascading past her shoulders) was threaded through with strands of gold.
Vlad’s eyes widened; his cock rose to an impressive nine inch salute. “I pay, you submit, ya?”
“Of course,” Dæv replied, giving him one of her dazzling smiles. He actually shivered, looking her up and down. She assumed by ‘submission’ he meant, she was to follow his instructions. She’d enjoyed being a toy before.
She should have asked that other whore more questions.
Holding out a hand to him, Dævara parted a blood red veil hiding the lavatory door with the other. He moved quickly to her, knocking her hand away, grabbing her around the waist and shoving her before him into the smaller room. The smell of salt and newly dead fish was overwhelming, making her dizzy. His flesh felt oily, as if he’d slept with his catch (later she learned this actually was the custom).
Once he had her in the room, he closed the door behind him. “Run the water, whore!” It wasn’t a shout, but it was a command.
Panting slightly from the shock of his sudden violence, but determined to give good service for the money, she replied, eyes downcast, “Yes, master,” and moved to the large shower. “Do you prefer the water hot, master?”
“Very. Hurry, whore. I’m not a patient man, as you will discover if you don’t jump to my commands.”
She started the shower, adjusting the water until it was a hot as she could stand it. Her hands trembled a little. Her nerves or anticipation of what was to come? Dæv didn’t really know.
She took a step back from the scalding spray of water and stood against the white porcelain, hands clasped before her, eyes averted. “The water is ready, master.”
Vlad stepped forward and under the steaming, spray. Turning his head slightly, he gave her a single slight nod. Dæv felt a shiver of pleasure at the implied approval. Her client stood, legs slightly apart, arms out from his sides, water running down his hairy barrel chest and looked a little impatiently at her.
Blushing and fretting that she’d displeased him so soon after having performed well, Dæv rushed to him. Taking a handful of the gritty blue paste from a crystal bowl in a niche in the wall, she began scrubbing his body, starting with his neck and working her way down his chest.
His arms were next (the man seemed more bear than human), then his hands. She scrubbed his back (upper, then lower) then got to his ass. He obliged her, without her saying anything, by bending over slightly. The elf dreaded what she might find in his crevasse and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was fastidious in at least one aspect of his hygiene.
She cleaned his legs and feet and finally moved around in front.
Despite the unwashed lion smell of his loins (or, maybe, because of it, she would later admit to herself) Dæv was aroused by Vlad’s big cock. Until leaving her adopted father’s home, all her lovers had been elves. She’d had bigger, but never had she gotten the sense of…well…’power’ was the only word she could think of, from merely the sight (and smell) of an erect penis. The tangle of black, wiry hair was new for her as well. The cock was thick and veiny and throbbing slightly. It seemed separate, living thing to her; the real master in this session.
The elf knelt on the porcelain tile and began stoking the shaft, lightly scrubbing it with the abrasive soap; long, slow stokes from scrotum to glans. She moved on to his balls rubbing one in each small hand and soaping the connection to his crotch, rubbing the creases between taint and thighs as well.
When she was done, she asked him to take a step back and began to rinse him off.
He complied with her instructions as she stood and rubbed the lather off him under the hot, stinging spray. She began with his upper body and moved down as she went.
Finally, she was again on her knees in front of his magnificent, hairy god.
Vlad’s fur covered belly was just a bit too big for her to see his face as he stood with the spray running off his chest. Had she been able to read his expression, she might have had some warning.
As Dævara was rinsing the last of the soap from the head of his cock, both hands stroking it as she held it horizontally, he thrust his hips forward quickly and hard.
Her mouth was open slightly and the cock was lined up just right. With only the slightest brush against her teeth, Vlad’s thrust forced his erection past her lips and into her mouth.
She wasn’t prepared. The cock was slick with water, which made about as good a lube as sandpaper. Any turgid penis needed a thick coat of saliva before any attempt be made as pushing it past the mouth.
Vlad’s cock hit the back of her throat and stuck there. He grabbed her wet hair in two fists and pushed harder. Her head slammed against the wall of the shower enclosure. The head of Vlad’s penis abraded the back of her throat (it would be sore for days). When it wouldn’t go any further, he withdrew it a bit and slammed it in again, again hitting the same barrier.
Three, four, five more times he rammed it home, seeming to be content to fuck her mouth to the extent he could. Each time her head hit the wall (though not as hard); each time, he pulled on her hair, brutalizing her scalp. Dævara pushed against his thighs, nearly panicked; it had no effect.
She had excellent control over her gag reflex; but she was in pain, surprised by the brutality of Vlad’s actions, and frightened.
Up came her lunch as her stomach began spasming hard. Half of it, it seemed, gushed through her nose as Vlad’s big member was blocking the passage to her mouth. Bile burned her sinuses as chunks of her last meal finally forced their way out of her mouth around the obstruction.
Far from distressing her client, it only seemed to enflame him. Taking advantage of the seconds she had, Dæv gasped a lungful of air. Her client withdrew and slammed his cock home again. Her vomitus made an adequate lube. Dævara recovered enough of her composure to accommodate, rather than resist, his action and Vlad’s cock squeezed past her tongue’s base and down her throat.
His pull on her hair became ineffective to force himself all the way down, but the elf whore saved him the trouble of changing his grip. Reaching out, she grabbed his hips and pulled him in until her nose was nuzzling the hair above his public bone.
She worked his shaft with the muscles of her throat as her tongue, already sticking out of her mouth, licked his hairy balls.
She heard his moan; the first happy sound he’d uttered since entering the crib. He even let go of her hair.
When her ears began to ring, she pushed herself off him and panted a few times before impaling her mouth again. Vlad made no move to interfere until the fourth time, when he backed a step away.
Turning on his heel, he stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel he called over his shoulder, “Clean yourself up, slut. I’ll be on the bed. Don’t keep me waiting.”
As she quickly ran water over her puke splattered tummy and legs (she rinsed her mouth out and blew stinging fluid from her nose as well, Dæv felt conflicting emotions. Never had she felt so disrespected before, save once. She was frightened and angry—on the surface. Deep down though, something in her responded to this rough treatment with a kind of lust she hadn’t felt since her first weeks after the Change on her elven home.
Garie was just outside, if she needed him; she told herself. Everything would be all right. Part of her believed that; the part that tried to pull toward the bed where he lay waiting.
As she finished toweling off, Dæv had an intuition about the session to come. Reaching under the sink, she grabbed a small red crystal jar. Quickly she removed the lid and gathered a generous amount of the greasy white paste on two of her fingers. She smeared it over the entrance to her anus, shoving one finger as far up her poop hole as it would go. A few vigorous rubs and she was done. She replaced the jar, gave her fingers a quick rub with the towel and moved through the curtain to the bedroom.
She switched to her slinkiest walk was she passed through the translucent red silk. It felt wonderful on her freshly cleaned skin, whispering in her ear, caressing her shoulders and arms.
Vlad was laying on the bed, impressive cock in hand as he slowly stroked it. He turned his head as the last of the cloth fell from her shoulders.
Though she hadn’t meant it to happen, her hair had gotten quite wet. She’d toweled it off, of course. It’s naturally springy nature meant that it looked merely damp, now. It was darker than it usually was and felt heavier but the gold in would fairly sparkle, she knew.
She read the lust in Vlad’s eyes and her pulse quickened. The back of her mouth tasted of copper and her cheeks and upper chest felt hot. Dævara knew he was seeing the spreading pastel blue on her soft white skin and wondered what he thought of it.
She glided bonelessly to the fur and feather layered pallet that was her bed and workspace. Vlad’s eyes never left her, darting from her face and hair to her teats and the short, furry blue patch of her lady hedge.
Without slowing, the naked elf smoothly went from walking to crawling onto the bed and her client. One tiny hand gripped the head of his penis, just above his own grip as she moved up his frame; cascading hair sliding up his hairy trunk; to place her open mouth over his.
He responded eagerly to her tongue, grabbing the back of her head with one hand and jamming his own, quite long one into her mouth. His other hand sought the slit below her fuzzy mound.
Dæv moaned into his mouth as first one, then another finger slid along the wet folds of her inner labia (just brushing her still hooded clit) and then pushed roughly into her cunt.
She stroked the end of his erection in a rhythm that matched his attack and retreat of her front passage.
Just as the whore was wondering if she should make a move, her client did. The hand on the back of her head turned into a fist, pulling her head away. He pulled his other away from her pussy. Once Vlad had her in sight, both hands went to her waist lifting her entirely off him. He climbed to his knees on the bed, twisted around and tossed her to the bed, face down.
Before she had a chance to react, the big man had lifted her ass up and forced her knees apart.
Dævara winced, heart pounding with equal parts fear and lust, for a hard thrust.
What came instead was the wet, rough, shovel shaped pressure of his tongue as it firmly licked her from pubic bone to asshole in one swipe.
She gasped and shivered at the pleasure and surprise of the sensation, sparing a fleeting thought to wonder if he tasted what she had coated her anus with.
If so, he gave no sign. Again he licked her, this time skipping over her clit. She moaned a little louder than necessary and began to writhe and jiggle her bum for him.
Four, five more times he licked her, beginning to dig deep into the tight tunnel of her vagina as he did so. Then he stopped.
Dæv mewled and thrust her ass toward where she hoped his waiting tongue was, her face buried in the furs of the bed.
A stinging fire met her instead as one of his huge hands slapped the outer, fleshy part of her left buttock. She cried out at the pain, even as the shock of the blow made her pussy twitch and throb with pleasure.
Again her client smacked her ass, this time the other cheek.
Then a softer sensation. He was softly rubbing what he saw as the bright blue hand marks he’d made. It was soothing, but not enough to combat the burning. Dæv’s breath was coming quicker as she felt her mounting desire leaving wet trails down her inner thighs.
Again a withdrawal of his contact. Again contact with his tongue and lips as he began gently sucking and nipping at her tender inner lips. She was moaning and squirming unaffectedly, now. Vlad was driving her insane; getting her so close to orgasm, but denying her the climax she craved.
Again the absence of sensation.
The elven whore waited as patiently as she could for his chastisement to recommence.
She had fought the temptation to turn and look at him, realizing her ignorance added to her excitement.
It was a decision she came to regret.
Once again, with unerring precision, her big hairy client brought his wood to bear.
Before Dæv knew what was happening, Vlad’s cock was half-buried in her snatch as he brutally rammed it in, heading for the valley of Balls Deep.
Elven females have an unusual vaginal addition: a layer of striated muscle lining the canal. It can be used to great effect to move sperm along for those wanting to conceive. It can also drive men wild, because it is essentially an encircling tongue. Unfortunately, it also has a reflex that very effectively prevents rape.
Dæv had no warning and had never had this particular reflex come into play during sex.
Responding to an unanticipated invasion, the whole length of her vagina spasmed, clamping down on her client’s cock—hard.
Had Vlad cried out, things would likely have gone differently. Garie, in the anteroom, would have heard through the closed door and come running. Her client made no noise. He merely grabbed two fistfuls of her ass and pushed as hard as he could. It made no difference, he was stuck fast.
He didn’t speak to her, to order her to do anything; he just kept pushing, finally lifting her bodily and pulling her up, trying to twist her around as he did so.
“Stop!” she yelled, hoping Garie would come. She put her hands over his around her waist and said again, looking at his panicked eyes, “Stop! Please!”
He did as she asked. “Get off me!” he commanded.
“I canna! I need ta relax first, I do! Easy, lover. Easy, now. Lemme down, if ye please.”
He returned her to her kneeling position.
“Can ye stroke me back and bum, please? That’ll help, it will.” She let her weight settle on her shoulders, once again burying her head in the furs.
Vlad’s hands trembled as he caressed her with more gentleness than he likely felt.
Dæv tried not to let her mortification at this turn of events get the better of her, instead concentrating on the soothing feeling along her spine and thighs.
Finally, she felt the spasm relax. Vlad continued for some few minutes more, unmoving. It came to her that he might not realize he was no longer trapped.
“It’s a’right now, lover. Ye c’n pull out now, if ye like.” She turned to look at him.
His face was pale and blotchy red. The look on his face not what she’d expect from a client.
Slowly, as if afraid of what he might see, he pulled out of her.
It was a bit redder than it had been and semi-flaccid. It didn’t seem damaged in any way, though.
“There, now. Tha’s not so bad, it’s not.” She tried a smile.
He smiled back, something animal in his eyes. In three heartbeats, his erection was back. His member looked bruised now.
For a moment, genuine panic sped through her again. That hidden lust followed, laughing, in its wake. She obeyed her instinct, turned and ducked her head. She relaxed all the muscles below her waist.
Meaty hands smacked onto her waist, gripping her crushingly strong (they would leave bruises recognizable as handprints for over a week). Dæv was pulled backwards, clenching only a little, as a nine by seven penis rammed its way toward her stomach via her colon. He had tasted the lube, apparently; either that or he was hoping to really injure her. If that were the case, he’d be mostly disappointed.
Her outer sphincter allowed his passage with relative ease. The inner had its own mind. The lube would prevent any tearing, but the force that pushed it wide did so with bruising speed. She cried out in genuine distress at the pain.
He ignored her and commenced pounding her ass with long fast strokes, grunting at each one.
Working furiously to hasten her adaptation and so minimize the damage, Dævara gripped the furs of her bed in tight fists, pressed her forehead down and concentrated. After only four strokes—each one of which stopped only when the head of his cock slammed into the outer door of her large intestine—the pain diminished, finally ceasing altogether.
His hoarse breathing indicated that he was enjoying ass fucking her immensely, for which she was grateful. This might not end so badly, after all.
The elf whore was beginning to feel his thrusts as pleasure herself when he suddenly roared and began pounding her asshole more quickly.
All too quickly, in fact, he was finished; his balls emptied into her ass.
He withdrew and, still panting climbed off the bed. Dæv allowed herself to collapse, rolling onto her side and looking at Vlad as he quickly dressed.
When he was though, he reached into his pants and came out with a small leather purse. He counted coins into his hand and tossed them at her. Gold and silver pentagons rained down over her supine form. Without a word, he pulled open the door and left the room.
Gideon can be found on Alchemy of the Word
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