Reborn From the Cosmos

Arc 8-08

Despite her eagerness, Alana does not get out of the chair quickly. She’s in charge tonight, but she also recognizes what I’m trying to do for Talia. She doesn’t rush our flower who insists on perfection, uncaring about the tension in the room as she finishes with Alana’s nails and moves on to her hair. Her only concession to the situation is to turn the chair so Alana can see the bed without craning her neck while she tackles her hair. To my surprise, Alana doesn’t want to cut it, putting up with the careful grooming with just the slightest bounce of her leg.

In the meantime, Kierra and I are meant to amuse her. My wife has no problems taking orders from Alana, though it is like a cat humoring a mouse. She is delighted with the whole situation. I wonder if she also sees a “conqueror” in her. Not for the first time, I’m glad that they get along so well. That everyone gets along so well. There are a lot of strong and divergent personalities in our clan. It could have easily ended in catastrophe.

Unions with multiple partners aren’t known for being harmonious; Duke James and his three wives are a perfect example. It’s a small miracle that we all work together so well. Or, maybe not so much of miracle. Kierra has rejected plenty of potential lovers. She wouldn’t allow anyone that would cause discourse into our merry clan. Aside from that, I like to think that I’m also a pretty good judge of character.

Yes, it’s by design that my lovers aren’t just accepting of our situation but actively embrace it. Even the most reticent, Alana, is deviant in her desires like the rest of us. Whether it was something suppressed by the heavy fate tied to James’ blood or a result of our influence, she’s thoroughly corrupted. Only a pervert would ask for me to bathe Kierra while she watches…using my tongue.

I have to admit, it’s a creative way to keep us excited while keeping us from getting off. It’s also incredibly embarrassing. Things between me and my savage elf tend to get wild but this is downright animalistic. It’s one thing to do something like this in pursuit of pleasure, but without an orgasm attached to it, it seems so…bestial.

Kierra has no concerns of course. She doesn’t waste a moment stripping off her clothes and lying face down on the bed, kicking her feet to tell me where to start. I have to push down my awkwardness in the beginning but by the time I make my way to her thighs, I’m comfortable enough to not mind it. And then I start to have fun, leaning into the spirit of the act. Kierra laughs as I bite into her ass.

“Tickling is not fair,” she says, a twinkle in her eyes as she looks at me over her shoulder.

Cheh. I thought I put some real strength into that. How about this then?

With a thought, I call on a nostalgic form, that of the green wolf that brought us together. Fur sprouts along my body as my nails turn into claws and my teeth become fangs. I do my best approximation at a growl, baring my new impressive maw.

Kierra just coos at me, rolling onto her back. “Oh no. A beast has caught me.”

“You shouldn’t have been walking in the forest all alone, little girl,” I say, fighting a laugh as I try to pitch my voice to a monstrous timbre.

She tries to look scared. Really. It’s just so unnatural to her. The only time I’ve seen her afraid is when she thought she might lose me; her heart is the only part of her that’s vulnerable. Something trying to eat her, literally and figuratively? Even in her imagination, that’s a good time.

Or maybe her lips keep trying to curl into a smile because I’m playing my part as badly as she’s playing hers.

“Are you going to eat me?” she asks, sounding far too happy about it.

“Dirty girls are my favorite snack.” I punctuate the words by licking the valley between her breast before biting one, raking my sharp teeth over the nipple. She twitches but doesn’t break character.

“Have mercy, Miss Beast. I swear I’m not a dirty girl.”

“Lies.” She can’t fully suppress her giggle as I loudly sniff around her, trailing my nose down her stomach, taking a moment to nuzzle into her abs before pushing it between her legs. “You reek,” I say with a triumphant huff, as if I’ve seen through some great deception. “Traipsing through the trees smelling that. You’re practically begging for something to come along and devour you. But I’ve got to clean you up. Can’t be eating something so filthy.”

Her stifled laughter turns into a moan as my tongue lavishes her folds. I purposely keep my movements erratic and vague, obeying Alana’s direction not to get each other off, but it’s hard. Kierra’s sweetness is a strong temptation, her body practically begging me to drink from her. I can tell she’s working just as hard to hold back, her hands twisting the sheets as she tries to control her rocking hips.

I raise my head as I feel my control fraying, panting over her as I try to thread it back together. Remember the game. “Mm. That’s one part of you clean but I can still smell the filth.”

Kierra’s eyes, more green than gold in the dimming light of the evening, are hooded as she stares up at me, chest heaving as she tries to regain her composure. “Miss Beast is wrong. I swear I’m not dirty.”

“Hmph. You can’t fool my nose.” I turn her around, raising her hips. Grinning wildly, I take another bite of her ass, hard enough to leave teeth marks in her tough skin. Hah! She doesn’t giggle this time, a languid moan escaping her. “Is this where the filth is?” I growl, slapping my bite mark.

“No,” she groans half-heartedly.

I wonder what she thinks I’m going to do. Whatever it is, I doubt what she’s imagining even comes close.

We rarely mess around with each other’s back doors. It isn’t that we don’t like it, this body was made to feel pleasure every which way and Kierra is a deviant. It’s more a matter of not fixing what’s broken. There is also the matter of us taking turns trying to impregnate one another, a long-standing bet with no conclusion in sight; Geneva wasn’t lying when she said the strange construction of my body would have a large impact on my fertility.

The last time I remember doing anything like this was when I had to admonish my elf, using my ooze to claim every bit of her I could reach. She enjoyed that plenty, so I know she’s going to like this.

But I underestimate exactly how much she likes it.

Her body shakes as I run my tongue between her cheeks, playing my part by loudly breathing in her musky scent as I continue the bath. There’s nothing sweet about this end, but the slightly salty taste isn’t bad either. A part of my mind balks at it, but that adds to the excitement. I wonder if Alana can see how excited I am; I can definitely feel the desire coating my thighs. Saints, if she doesn’t finish soon, I’m going to lose my mind. Remember the game. Remember your role.

Kierra actually squeals as I push into her and I do mean push. It takes quite a bit of strength to worm my tongue into the tight ring, every bit that I claim a battle. Her whines grow louder and more plaintive as I force my prodigious muscle as deep as it’ll go. I don’t think she cares about our little game anymore. No, I’m sure she doesn’t. She’s not even trying to be quiet. I wish I could see her face but my world is nothing but her toned ass pressed against my face and the tight walls squeezing me.

I flex my tongue, writhing the muscle in different ways, searching for what works best. I’m not prepared for her to go completely limp, her breathing replaced by breathless gasps. It’s like the action saps all the strength from her body. Huh. I guess she’s really weak to this. Good to know. It’s giving me…ideas.

Her climax sneaks up on me, as its unlike her usual writhing, wild release. I would think it was just a particularly long shiver if not for the thick scent of her arousal, her normal roar of satisfaction replaced by soft mewling. I pull out of her and drop her waist, delighted to find her weakness isn’t a ploy as she collapses onto to the bed, still shuddering. “There. Now it’s time to—"

My words are cut off by a hand grabbing the back of my neck. The grip isn’t hard, but I freeze anyway, obeying the silent command. I turn around and find Alana standing by the side of the bed. Despite lacking experience, Talia has done a great job, her sense of aesthetics seeing her through. Alana’s blond locks have been trimmed and brushed till they practically shine. Her lips are also painted, the pink making them look fuller and softer. She looks like a doll, directly at odds with her hard gaze, though it isn’t anger behind her glare. I don’t think she’s going to be denied a second time.

“Bad dog.”