Acclimating
- Thread starter Dream Big
- Start date
Yes, please. Absolutely
Combines several of my favorite things in one. Would be amazing to see this continued!
The guard's arousal was almost palpable to me now -- I could taste it, smell it, hell for all I knew, I could roll it between my fingers. Whatever arousal was, it seemed to have physical components as well as, for want of a better term, psychic or magical ones. I was picking it up from multiple senses. It was just a little spicy.
"It seems to me," I said, "that your main duty is keeping watch on that tent, while your half-breed sleeps, yes?"
"Yes," Lind said. His eyes roamed my borrowed form, his gaze caressing my bulky muscles and bristling hair.
"Then I don't want to distract you from that duty," I said, feigning kindness.
It is probably too late for that, Vanquillon said.
Lind opened his mouth for what, in others, might have been a witty retort, or a flirty one, but in him, he simply opened his mouth, and then thought better of it.
"Yet I see that I am already a distraction," I said. Man, this voice of his was a low rumble that would have suited a bouncer. "But I'm not sure how to find my way back without your help. Perhaps, we could help each other?"
"Help .... each other?"
"Sure. I can watch the tent, and you can watch me," I said, shamelessly bouncing a pec. "And once you are less distracted, you can tell me how to leave your part of the camp."
"I suppose..."
"We are allies, yes? I've met few elves and fewer still were allies," I lied easily. "But I confess I am intrigued by you. That is likely why I was sent to your camp. Not all of my fellows feel that way. So... Should we not make the effort to understand one another?"
Poor Lind. His limited imagination meant he was good at singular focus. But this body's effect was to channel that in a single direction. Guarding me was probably a good use of him because he'd be a terrible sentry.
You're misreading him, Vanquillon said. His arousal is very specific to this form, and it's being primed by our power.
What? Oh, right. What the hell was that? Was I *reveling* in the power I had over him?
Think later. You have but a moment to close this transaction in your favor, the demon's echo said. It is a good learning experience for you, but do not get too full of yourself or you'll scare him off. You must learn this or you will starve.
I blinked a few times to clear my head. Vanquillon's presence seemed less....frontal, I suppose. He'd never be fully gone, while I was here, but apparently he could pull back a fair amount. He was leaving this seduction to me. And goodness knows, the feeling of hunger was growing stronger. He was right; I needed to make a meal of this poor fellow.
But how to do it? I considered what I knew of Lind, the hapless and unimaginative guard, and quickly shifted gears. He needed a concrete offer and reason to say yes.
"May I be blunt, soldier to soldier?" Lind nodded dumbly in reply, so I smiled kindly.
"I have seen you before, and my wandering was not entirely without purpose. I am happy to have found you again. And unless I'm very wrong, you would also be interested in finding a connection. Perhaps we can -- soldier to soldier -- find a little rare comfort in each other?" Ugh, was I laying it on with too many words for this taciturn guard?
Lind actually blushed a little. Wait, was he *shy*? "I have duties."
"Over there, I see a little alcove between crates where one might keep an eye on this tent while finding a bit of relief, hidden from public eyes. And," I added, "we could take turns so that one of us was always watching the tent."
Close, Vanquillon said. But too wordy.
I raised a meaty arm and threw it over his shoulder. "Come, friend, it's only a moment."
"...Just for a moment, after I check around the tent," he finally grunted, his eyes still darting between my oversized chest and my considerable bulge.
"I'll be waiting," I said.
A moment later, Lind returned to find a burly, naked human waiting for him between stacks of crates, and his jaw visibly dropped. (I may have added an inch or two to the bait and tackle; Lind screamed size queen to me.)
Excellent. Now take your prey.
I did, of course. I picked him up easily, and flipped him over so he could still, technically, see the tent, then I took him into my mouth and pulled the first orgasm from him almost before either of us could really enjoy it. But it was just a start. As his strong fingers roamed my borrowed form's contours, I moaned quietly, deeply, and allowed myself to feel the moment. His touch went from tentative to demanding rather quickly, and soon I returned the gesture with a bit of creative groping of my own. And things... well, progressed from there until he had both our dicks in his large hands, obviously shocked by my size and utterly turned on by how much bigger I was than him. He had to be packing a solid 8 inches, with a long and tapered head, but I was at least three inches longer, and with a much fatter head and a thick, unruly patch of hair cushioning my oversized bull-balls. He was entranced but surprisingly hungry, and suddenly I realized he needed to either stick his dick in me, or vice versa, to feel sated. And so, I pinned him quickly and impaled myself on his thick pecker. And then, the real feeding began...I could feel the lust transmute and drank deeply. His masculinity was strong, and his tastes simple -- but he was strong and uncomplicated, and while it wasn't my thing normally, it was enough. The minute I connected that dot, the floodgates opened and as he shot his load in my thick bara-ass, I drank deeply of his lust and probably a bit more of his true essence. But I was also aware of it now, and shut it down after what felt like a few solid gulps of this new lifeblood. I wanted to stop while I was in control of the process, so I wouldn't harm him.
That was very nice, my copilot said. Control allows you to feed on him later. He will be none the worse, and we have supped well on his lust.
To his credit, Lind did his level best to be attentive to me while also frequently monitoring the tent. At least later I could honestly say that he kept me under close observation all night, and he never saw me leave the tent, nor anyone enter it.
Which was a blessing -- because as we were standing up after our copulation, a whistling shriek flew over our heads, and a fiery exploding filled the tent where I was supposed to be sleeping.
"It seems to me," I said, "that your main duty is keeping watch on that tent, while your half-breed sleeps, yes?"
"Yes," Lind said. His eyes roamed my borrowed form, his gaze caressing my bulky muscles and bristling hair.
"Then I don't want to distract you from that duty," I said, feigning kindness.
It is probably too late for that, Vanquillon said.
Lind opened his mouth for what, in others, might have been a witty retort, or a flirty one, but in him, he simply opened his mouth, and then thought better of it.
"Yet I see that I am already a distraction," I said. Man, this voice of his was a low rumble that would have suited a bouncer. "But I'm not sure how to find my way back without your help. Perhaps, we could help each other?"
"Help .... each other?"
"Sure. I can watch the tent, and you can watch me," I said, shamelessly bouncing a pec. "And once you are less distracted, you can tell me how to leave your part of the camp."
"I suppose..."
"We are allies, yes? I've met few elves and fewer still were allies," I lied easily. "But I confess I am intrigued by you. That is likely why I was sent to your camp. Not all of my fellows feel that way. So... Should we not make the effort to understand one another?"
Poor Lind. His limited imagination meant he was good at singular focus. But this body's effect was to channel that in a single direction. Guarding me was probably a good use of him because he'd be a terrible sentry.
You're misreading him, Vanquillon said. His arousal is very specific to this form, and it's being primed by our power.
What? Oh, right. What the hell was that? Was I *reveling* in the power I had over him?
Think later. You have but a moment to close this transaction in your favor, the demon's echo said. It is a good learning experience for you, but do not get too full of yourself or you'll scare him off. You must learn this or you will starve.
I blinked a few times to clear my head. Vanquillon's presence seemed less....frontal, I suppose. He'd never be fully gone, while I was here, but apparently he could pull back a fair amount. He was leaving this seduction to me. And goodness knows, the feeling of hunger was growing stronger. He was right; I needed to make a meal of this poor fellow.
But how to do it? I considered what I knew of Lind, the hapless and unimaginative guard, and quickly shifted gears. He needed a concrete offer and reason to say yes.
"May I be blunt, soldier to soldier?" Lind nodded dumbly in reply, so I smiled kindly.
"I have seen you before, and my wandering was not entirely without purpose. I am happy to have found you again. And unless I'm very wrong, you would also be interested in finding a connection. Perhaps we can -- soldier to soldier -- find a little rare comfort in each other?" Ugh, was I laying it on with too many words for this taciturn guard?
Lind actually blushed a little. Wait, was he *shy*? "I have duties."
"Over there, I see a little alcove between crates where one might keep an eye on this tent while finding a bit of relief, hidden from public eyes. And," I added, "we could take turns so that one of us was always watching the tent."
Close, Vanquillon said. But too wordy.
I raised a meaty arm and threw it over his shoulder. "Come, friend, it's only a moment."
"...Just for a moment, after I check around the tent," he finally grunted, his eyes still darting between my oversized chest and my considerable bulge.
"I'll be waiting," I said.
A moment later, Lind returned to find a burly, naked human waiting for him between stacks of crates, and his jaw visibly dropped. (I may have added an inch or two to the bait and tackle; Lind screamed size queen to me.)
Excellent. Now take your prey.
I did, of course. I picked him up easily, and flipped him over so he could still, technically, see the tent, then I took him into my mouth and pulled the first orgasm from him almost before either of us could really enjoy it. But it was just a start. As his strong fingers roamed my borrowed form's contours, I moaned quietly, deeply, and allowed myself to feel the moment. His touch went from tentative to demanding rather quickly, and soon I returned the gesture with a bit of creative groping of my own. And things... well, progressed from there until he had both our dicks in his large hands, obviously shocked by my size and utterly turned on by how much bigger I was than him. He had to be packing a solid 8 inches, with a long and tapered head, but I was at least three inches longer, and with a much fatter head and a thick, unruly patch of hair cushioning my oversized bull-balls. He was entranced but surprisingly hungry, and suddenly I realized he needed to either stick his dick in me, or vice versa, to feel sated. And so, I pinned him quickly and impaled myself on his thick pecker. And then, the real feeding began...I could feel the lust transmute and drank deeply. His masculinity was strong, and his tastes simple -- but he was strong and uncomplicated, and while it wasn't my thing normally, it was enough. The minute I connected that dot, the floodgates opened and as he shot his load in my thick bara-ass, I drank deeply of his lust and probably a bit more of his true essence. But I was also aware of it now, and shut it down after what felt like a few solid gulps of this new lifeblood. I wanted to stop while I was in control of the process, so I wouldn't harm him.
That was very nice, my copilot said. Control allows you to feed on him later. He will be none the worse, and we have supped well on his lust.
To his credit, Lind did his level best to be attentive to me while also frequently monitoring the tent. At least later I could honestly say that he kept me under close observation all night, and he never saw me leave the tent, nor anyone enter it.
Which was a blessing -- because as we were standing up after our copulation, a whistling shriek flew over our heads, and a fiery exploding filled the tent where I was supposed to be sleeping.
Dream Big,
“Acclimating” is yet another masterpiece. We are so fortunate to have you writing for us here at LPSG. THANK YOU! Sincerely— Thank you for sharing your talent
“Acclimating” is yet another masterpiece. We are so fortunate to have you writing for us here at LPSG. THANK YOU! Sincerely— Thank you for sharing your talent
Maybe it was the increasing sense of synthesis I felt in this body. Maybe it was just how the transformation worked. But whatever the reason, I somehow managed to stay "in character" even as I reeled in shock.
My hapless companion, however, was about to panic -- I suspect only his training kept him from freaking out.
Why wasn't I freaking out? No time.
"I'll get help, you check your charge," I shouted, and ran off before Lind could respond. I hazarded a glance as I rounded a corner, and saw him racing toward the flames. Shit, if I didn't do something quickly, he'd probably race in to try to save me.
Why not use this moment to make your escape? My shadow asked. It's a perfect cover.
I'll admit, I considered it. But Kendris and Meider would be upset, and they were also my only chance of getting back home. And it seemed unfair to Lind, who was probably already blaming himself.
Fine, Vanquillon thought. I doubt we'd find so fertile a hunting ground anywhere else.
***
A moment later, restored to my default sexy elf-guy form, and coated in ash and soot, I pulled myself through some bushes about 20 feet from the back of the tent, making sure to scrape myself up pretty thoroughly as I did. (Elves tend to avoid the usual military approach of clearcutting an area for camps; they set up their tents around the landscape.).
Poor Lind was being restrained, still trying to rush in to save the man he'd been sent to guard. Three guards were already tossing water onto the flaming tent, as a grim-faced female elf began to chant.
Then my boys showed up. In my mind's eye, they ran toward the tent in slow motion, their faces distraught and worried.
"Eric!" Kendris shouted. "We feared the worst!" His expression was one of giddy relief.
"He lives?" Meider shouted? "....one moment," he barked, and then made several swift gestures. Suddenly the fire routed massively into the air, spiraled in a long stream, and passed harmlessly into a bauble Meider held in his left hand.
Your wizard friend has excellent technique. He's stored that explosive potential away for later.
Really? I mean, it was cool and all, but we had bigger worries to contend with.
***
The rest of the evening was a blur. Meider was kept busy dealing with putting out other fires, and then doing this world'd equivalent of a forensics sweep. Kendris had gathered a few critical trunks and boxes and salvaged the most important things from the ruined tent, and sent a few trustworthy guards to carry them to his brother's quarters. Then, he questioned everyone quickly and efficiently.
My cover story was that I'd stepped out intending to evade my guard and go relieve myself, and just luckily avoided the explosion. Lind, for his part, was feeling miserable but perked up when he saw I'd survived. He and several witnesses saw the fireball fly over the camp to strike our tent. Kendris was initially angry with the guards, but I managed to talk him down from that by pointing out that nobody got *into* the tent, and I'd barely gone three steps before I saw the fireball streak toward me. There was nothing Lind or anyone could have done.
"I'm sorry. But Kendris, your tent! Your things!"
"Most of my important things are warded," he explained. "But the bed, the clothing, and my guest were not!"
"I'm okay," I insisted. "And it's likely you were the target anyway. It was your tent...."
He frowned. "Possible. But you are the new factor. We've been here for weeks, and no enemies are near. And," he said suspiciously, "Lind mentioned talking with a human guard. I confess, part of me suspects our so-called allies are responsible..."
Shit.
"Kendris," I whispered, "that human guard was me. I was the one distracting Lind."
My hapless companion, however, was about to panic -- I suspect only his training kept him from freaking out.
Why wasn't I freaking out? No time.
"I'll get help, you check your charge," I shouted, and ran off before Lind could respond. I hazarded a glance as I rounded a corner, and saw him racing toward the flames. Shit, if I didn't do something quickly, he'd probably race in to try to save me.
Why not use this moment to make your escape? My shadow asked. It's a perfect cover.
I'll admit, I considered it. But Kendris and Meider would be upset, and they were also my only chance of getting back home. And it seemed unfair to Lind, who was probably already blaming himself.
Fine, Vanquillon thought. I doubt we'd find so fertile a hunting ground anywhere else.
***
A moment later, restored to my default sexy elf-guy form, and coated in ash and soot, I pulled myself through some bushes about 20 feet from the back of the tent, making sure to scrape myself up pretty thoroughly as I did. (Elves tend to avoid the usual military approach of clearcutting an area for camps; they set up their tents around the landscape.).
Poor Lind was being restrained, still trying to rush in to save the man he'd been sent to guard. Three guards were already tossing water onto the flaming tent, as a grim-faced female elf began to chant.
Then my boys showed up. In my mind's eye, they ran toward the tent in slow motion, their faces distraught and worried.
"Eric!" Kendris shouted. "We feared the worst!" His expression was one of giddy relief.
"He lives?" Meider shouted? "....one moment," he barked, and then made several swift gestures. Suddenly the fire routed massively into the air, spiraled in a long stream, and passed harmlessly into a bauble Meider held in his left hand.
Your wizard friend has excellent technique. He's stored that explosive potential away for later.
Really? I mean, it was cool and all, but we had bigger worries to contend with.
***
The rest of the evening was a blur. Meider was kept busy dealing with putting out other fires, and then doing this world'd equivalent of a forensics sweep. Kendris had gathered a few critical trunks and boxes and salvaged the most important things from the ruined tent, and sent a few trustworthy guards to carry them to his brother's quarters. Then, he questioned everyone quickly and efficiently.
My cover story was that I'd stepped out intending to evade my guard and go relieve myself, and just luckily avoided the explosion. Lind, for his part, was feeling miserable but perked up when he saw I'd survived. He and several witnesses saw the fireball fly over the camp to strike our tent. Kendris was initially angry with the guards, but I managed to talk him down from that by pointing out that nobody got *into* the tent, and I'd barely gone three steps before I saw the fireball streak toward me. There was nothing Lind or anyone could have done.
"I'm sorry. But Kendris, your tent! Your things!"
"Most of my important things are warded," he explained. "But the bed, the clothing, and my guest were not!"
"I'm okay," I insisted. "And it's likely you were the target anyway. It was your tent...."
He frowned. "Possible. But you are the new factor. We've been here for weeks, and no enemies are near. And," he said suspiciously, "Lind mentioned talking with a human guard. I confess, part of me suspects our so-called allies are responsible..."
Shit.
"Kendris," I whispered, "that human guard was me. I was the one distracting Lind."
I don't know which was worse. The brief flash of disappointment and betrayal I picked up from Kendris, or the shame I felt at not controlling myself better. I certainly didn't want poor Lind to suffer, nor the human whose form I'd borrowed.
"Ah," he said.
But Kendris wasn't some fickle and jealous young lover; his flash was really just that. He sighed, and the moment passed -- almost a little too quickly. And then his mind turned to what it was best at: thinking strategically and weighing options.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I--"
"Don't," he said. "We haven't the time for recriminations or explanations. Your carnal visit probably saved your life, but it makes things awkward."
"Because?"
"Because Lind believes he was derelict in his duties and it has shaken his confidence. Because he described a man in our allies' retinue who will no doubt be surprised that he was in two places at once, and may suffer for it. Because that blast soared over our camp from the direction of our human friends' camp, and many here saw it. Which means it likely *was* one of our allies."
I frowned. It seemed too obvious to me.
Now that's better, Vanquillon said. If I wanted to disrupt an uneasy alliance, or at least ramp up the tension, an attempted assassination of a leader is an obvious gambit.
Yeah, and the attempt was all that was needed, if all you want is to frame someone.
Frame....yes. Interesting term, but I see the shape of it. Yes, if the goal is sowing the seeds of distrust, then it doesn't even matter that nobody was harmed. I wonder whether your lover is smart enough to see that.
"Kendris, don't you think this is just a little too convenient?"
He arched a perfect eyebrow and gave me a quizzical look.
"I mean, if someone really wanted to kill you, that was a pretty brazen move."
"Ah, I see what you mean," he said. "I was mentally reviewing possible motives. Vortis is an obvious one -- he does not like working with our kind -- but this doesn't seem consistent with his character."
"How so?"
"He has no subterfuge in him. He is very brutal and straightforward; he values strength of steel and sinew, and what he prefers to think of as a fair fight. No, if he wanted to settle scores, he would have been happy to do so without resorting to magic."
Agreed, Vanquillon said. Yeah, me too. Subtle as an outhouse, that guy.
"Any others with beef?"
"Beef?"
"Sorry, idiom from home. I mean, who else gains from doing this?"
"You've met most of the leaders. There may be some internal political scores we're not aware of, but I would judge most of them to be honorable. There are no obvious villains."
"Leaving only the people too smart to show their bigotry in public," I said. "We have those at home, too. And they usually take the coward's path. They love to worm their way into the leadership of armies and police."
"It shames me to admit it, but there are some among my own people who may hold such hate in their hearts."
All mortals have those sorts.
"So what now?"
"For now, we control information, and use what we know to tease out the culprit," he said. "So first, stick to your story. Nobody else knows of your ability to change shape, barring my brother and myself."
"Good to know-- but wait, what about the people who were with you when you captured me?"
"...Meider thought it best to alter their memories."
"He can do that?"
"That is also something best kept between us."
I wasn't sure I liked that thought.
"Eric, it had to be done, and Meider is quite skilled at it. They remember only the death of the summoner, the disruption of the circle, and the ally we brought back. Anything else can be safely attributed to the energy released when we disrupted the summoning."
I confess, I had wondered about that.
Yeah, but I hadn't. That seemed a little worthy of concern.
"What about Lind? And that guard?"
"I think we let that play out. It will become obvious fairly quickly that it wasn't actually the human guard. But if it becomes an issue, we use it as further evidence of the threat. It may make our job easier as we scan the camps."
I nodded my understanding, and we returned to find Meider still engrossed in his investigation. Kendris pulled his brother aside and presumably caught him up, while I made myself useful figuring out how much of Kendris' stuff had actually survived.
***
Turned out most of Kendris' stuff survived -- as he'd said, the various containers were warded -- but most of the clothing and linens were lost. The brothers were tied up with the investigation, and I found myself dispatched with a hastily written list, and sent to get more from the quartermaster.
I don't like him, Vanquillon said. Nothing I can sink my teeth into.
Hmm. Even a lust-demon had limits.
"Ah," he said.
But Kendris wasn't some fickle and jealous young lover; his flash was really just that. He sighed, and the moment passed -- almost a little too quickly. And then his mind turned to what it was best at: thinking strategically and weighing options.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I--"
"Don't," he said. "We haven't the time for recriminations or explanations. Your carnal visit probably saved your life, but it makes things awkward."
"Because?"
"Because Lind believes he was derelict in his duties and it has shaken his confidence. Because he described a man in our allies' retinue who will no doubt be surprised that he was in two places at once, and may suffer for it. Because that blast soared over our camp from the direction of our human friends' camp, and many here saw it. Which means it likely *was* one of our allies."
I frowned. It seemed too obvious to me.
Now that's better, Vanquillon said. If I wanted to disrupt an uneasy alliance, or at least ramp up the tension, an attempted assassination of a leader is an obvious gambit.
Yeah, and the attempt was all that was needed, if all you want is to frame someone.
Frame....yes. Interesting term, but I see the shape of it. Yes, if the goal is sowing the seeds of distrust, then it doesn't even matter that nobody was harmed. I wonder whether your lover is smart enough to see that.
"Kendris, don't you think this is just a little too convenient?"
He arched a perfect eyebrow and gave me a quizzical look.
"I mean, if someone really wanted to kill you, that was a pretty brazen move."
"Ah, I see what you mean," he said. "I was mentally reviewing possible motives. Vortis is an obvious one -- he does not like working with our kind -- but this doesn't seem consistent with his character."
"How so?"
"He has no subterfuge in him. He is very brutal and straightforward; he values strength of steel and sinew, and what he prefers to think of as a fair fight. No, if he wanted to settle scores, he would have been happy to do so without resorting to magic."
Agreed, Vanquillon said. Yeah, me too. Subtle as an outhouse, that guy.
"Any others with beef?"
"Beef?"
"Sorry, idiom from home. I mean, who else gains from doing this?"
"You've met most of the leaders. There may be some internal political scores we're not aware of, but I would judge most of them to be honorable. There are no obvious villains."
"Leaving only the people too smart to show their bigotry in public," I said. "We have those at home, too. And they usually take the coward's path. They love to worm their way into the leadership of armies and police."
"It shames me to admit it, but there are some among my own people who may hold such hate in their hearts."
All mortals have those sorts.
"So what now?"
"For now, we control information, and use what we know to tease out the culprit," he said. "So first, stick to your story. Nobody else knows of your ability to change shape, barring my brother and myself."
"Good to know-- but wait, what about the people who were with you when you captured me?"
"...Meider thought it best to alter their memories."
"He can do that?"
"That is also something best kept between us."
I wasn't sure I liked that thought.
"Eric, it had to be done, and Meider is quite skilled at it. They remember only the death of the summoner, the disruption of the circle, and the ally we brought back. Anything else can be safely attributed to the energy released when we disrupted the summoning."
I confess, I had wondered about that.
Yeah, but I hadn't. That seemed a little worthy of concern.
"What about Lind? And that guard?"
"I think we let that play out. It will become obvious fairly quickly that it wasn't actually the human guard. But if it becomes an issue, we use it as further evidence of the threat. It may make our job easier as we scan the camps."
I nodded my understanding, and we returned to find Meider still engrossed in his investigation. Kendris pulled his brother aside and presumably caught him up, while I made myself useful figuring out how much of Kendris' stuff had actually survived.
***
Turned out most of Kendris' stuff survived -- as he'd said, the various containers were warded -- but most of the clothing and linens were lost. The brothers were tied up with the investigation, and I found myself dispatched with a hastily written list, and sent to get more from the quartermaster.
I don't like him, Vanquillon said. Nothing I can sink my teeth into.
Hmm. Even a lust-demon had limits.
Still, my curiosity pulled at the shirtsleeve of my mind like an impatient child.
I reached out with my new senses and ...I guess "felt around mentally"" is about as close as I can get. Mr Spock doing a sensor sweep wasn't too far off -- yeah, I'm a nerd, so what? It's the same sort of broad-spectrum pass, right?
Gentis, the quartermaster, exuded "regular guy" vibes, in the same way that the guy behind the counter at a deli in Manhattan would. He wanted people to come in, ask for reasonable things which he had available, exchange some papers, and leave. He also seemed the sort who, if something WASN'T available, he'd check around when he could, but he was usually busy. In other words, he had a job to do and he wanted to get on with it. As it was a military posting, he didn't have to coddle anyone.
In our previous encounter, he'd almost seemed annoyed by my form; I realized that I'd chosen a particularly attractive form and stood out, even among the local population of fit military boys. He'd seemed focused on his job, then, too; he didn't need the distraction I provided.
And here you are about to bother him again. He'll love that.
Nothing. Wasn't picking up any interest as I entered the tent and waited patiently for the two guys in front of me to do their thing. Well, not from Gentis -- the two soldiers seemed to be a couple but did toss me an appreciative gaze.
I wonder whether he's just ace, I thought.
Ace?
Asexual. Not really into sex.
Hmmm. Possible. I don't know these people, but I don't think that's all that common in your world.
My people don't normally live more than 90 years. Maybe it's more common here because they live so long.
No, the sense I got from our conversation with the brothers was that they have plenty of sex, but don't breed true that often. Otherwise they'd overpopulate. Still, perhaps both are a factor. Mortals are fascinating, the way they're part of an ecology but imagine their drives are somehow separate from their function....
I left that comment unanswered; Gentis beckoned.
***
"This whole list?"
"Yes," I said. "Kendris sends his apologies, but the tent was destroyed."
"Oh, that was HIS tent? I heard the explosion."
"I almost got roasted by it," I admitted. "I'm staying with Kendris, remember?"
"You seem to have escaped unharmed," he said. (Nope, not a tinge of jealousy -- just a bit of curiosity, and that barely detectable. For all the world it seemed he was making only the legally required small talk.)
"I got lucky and stepped out to relieve myself."
He cocked an eyebrow. "So you are blessed with luck as well." He harrumphed as he consulted a thick stack of forms and a book full of ledgers. "I won't lie, it's going to take a while to replace this stuff. I assume you'll bunk with the brother for a night or two?"
"Apparently."
"It'll take at least a day to sort out a new tent, but Meider should have space for you in that big work tent. I'll send over a bedroll or two until we get you new digs. As for your clothing, I'll have to work on that, too."
Because your proportions are a little larger in the basket than most.
I chuckled. "Sorry for the trouble. Honestly, would you mind going just a little bigger on the trousers?"
"I can measure again," he said, uncertainly. "but we may need to tailor a larger pair."
You could use this opportunity to have a little fun...
I reached out with my new senses and ...I guess "felt around mentally"" is about as close as I can get. Mr Spock doing a sensor sweep wasn't too far off -- yeah, I'm a nerd, so what? It's the same sort of broad-spectrum pass, right?
Gentis, the quartermaster, exuded "regular guy" vibes, in the same way that the guy behind the counter at a deli in Manhattan would. He wanted people to come in, ask for reasonable things which he had available, exchange some papers, and leave. He also seemed the sort who, if something WASN'T available, he'd check around when he could, but he was usually busy. In other words, he had a job to do and he wanted to get on with it. As it was a military posting, he didn't have to coddle anyone.
In our previous encounter, he'd almost seemed annoyed by my form; I realized that I'd chosen a particularly attractive form and stood out, even among the local population of fit military boys. He'd seemed focused on his job, then, too; he didn't need the distraction I provided.
And here you are about to bother him again. He'll love that.
Nothing. Wasn't picking up any interest as I entered the tent and waited patiently for the two guys in front of me to do their thing. Well, not from Gentis -- the two soldiers seemed to be a couple but did toss me an appreciative gaze.
I wonder whether he's just ace, I thought.
Ace?
Asexual. Not really into sex.
Hmmm. Possible. I don't know these people, but I don't think that's all that common in your world.
My people don't normally live more than 90 years. Maybe it's more common here because they live so long.
No, the sense I got from our conversation with the brothers was that they have plenty of sex, but don't breed true that often. Otherwise they'd overpopulate. Still, perhaps both are a factor. Mortals are fascinating, the way they're part of an ecology but imagine their drives are somehow separate from their function....
I left that comment unanswered; Gentis beckoned.
***
"This whole list?"
"Yes," I said. "Kendris sends his apologies, but the tent was destroyed."
"Oh, that was HIS tent? I heard the explosion."
"I almost got roasted by it," I admitted. "I'm staying with Kendris, remember?"
"You seem to have escaped unharmed," he said. (Nope, not a tinge of jealousy -- just a bit of curiosity, and that barely detectable. For all the world it seemed he was making only the legally required small talk.)
"I got lucky and stepped out to relieve myself."
He cocked an eyebrow. "So you are blessed with luck as well." He harrumphed as he consulted a thick stack of forms and a book full of ledgers. "I won't lie, it's going to take a while to replace this stuff. I assume you'll bunk with the brother for a night or two?"
"Apparently."
"It'll take at least a day to sort out a new tent, but Meider should have space for you in that big work tent. I'll send over a bedroll or two until we get you new digs. As for your clothing, I'll have to work on that, too."
Because your proportions are a little larger in the basket than most.
I chuckled. "Sorry for the trouble. Honestly, would you mind going just a little bigger on the trousers?"
"I can measure again," he said, uncertainly. "but we may need to tailor a larger pair."
You could use this opportunity to have a little fun...
At this point I feel like I should confess something.
You know how in Back to the Future, Marty McFly has a history of being manipulated into doing stupid things when people call him chicken?
I'm like that with challenges. At least, a bit.
So when I say I was a schlub whose primary outlet for de-stressing was online gaming? I mean that's how I channeled all my competitiveness. When I was a kid, I played board games and card games for keeps, and would pour my allowance into video games at the arcade. But it was in MMOs where my competitive streak really consumed me.
In order to negate or at least mitigate that aspect of my personality, I stopped playing PVP games against other players, and channeled my aggressive competitiveness into achieving story goals. I obsessively chewed through plot lines and chased down side quests and leveled hard. I tended to solo -- that way I was competing against myself and beat an ever-evolving game.
Yeah, that's precisely how I became the first guy to take down Vanquillon in the game.
I think the bit of him that lived in me picked up on it, and I think that's why I took the bait here.
***
I've described Gentis as a bit of a working-class, stocky, pub-landlord type. And so it seemed on first impression, when he was compared to the likes of Kendris and Meider and the hunky elf-militia I'd met at that point. But that's unfair to him, really.
Yeah, a bit of a dad-bod, but not remotely unhandsome. An odd mix of friendly and grumpy.
He also didn't have any obvious lust to key off. So it was a challenge.
You know how in Back to the Future, Marty McFly has a history of being manipulated into doing stupid things when people call him chicken?
I'm like that with challenges. At least, a bit.
So when I say I was a schlub whose primary outlet for de-stressing was online gaming? I mean that's how I channeled all my competitiveness. When I was a kid, I played board games and card games for keeps, and would pour my allowance into video games at the arcade. But it was in MMOs where my competitive streak really consumed me.
In order to negate or at least mitigate that aspect of my personality, I stopped playing PVP games against other players, and channeled my aggressive competitiveness into achieving story goals. I obsessively chewed through plot lines and chased down side quests and leveled hard. I tended to solo -- that way I was competing against myself and beat an ever-evolving game.
Yeah, that's precisely how I became the first guy to take down Vanquillon in the game.
I think the bit of him that lived in me picked up on it, and I think that's why I took the bait here.
***
I've described Gentis as a bit of a working-class, stocky, pub-landlord type. And so it seemed on first impression, when he was compared to the likes of Kendris and Meider and the hunky elf-militia I'd met at that point. But that's unfair to him, really.
Yeah, a bit of a dad-bod, but not remotely unhandsome. An odd mix of friendly and grumpy.
He also didn't have any obvious lust to key off. So it was a challenge.
What does he want, I wondered.
Everyone wants something. And everyone has a secret lust they hide, even from themselves. Men like this, they tend to deny their lust, box it up, replace it with other passions.
Workaholics, I thought. Hell, I was one myself.
The old me, at least. So what had brought me out of my shell?
As I reflected on my own situation, I had a bit of a revelation: being overworked, unfit, and feeling unappreciated at work had probably left me feeling unworthy and under confident about my prospects. And it was easier to just shove those normal desires into a corner and ignore them.
Gentis was a functionary, a logistics grunt, amongst an army of hot men who ignored him unless they needed something. He was simply part of the machinery of the camp, and I'd lay dollars to donuts he was often taken for granted.
Ah, I see, my copilot thought. Make him feel appreciated, and you've got a chance.
So when he returned with part of my order, I asked some questions about his work, about the logistics of outfitting the group. He was hesitant to reply at first until he realized that I was bunking with Kendris and seemed to have his trust.
It was almost child's play to engage him in talking about his work and the challenges of keeping the camp running. With my own background, I was able to ask questions and deduce things about how he managed it pretty quickly, and his answers shifted from standoffish to collegial.
Get a man talking about himself....
No, that's not it. It's making an unappreciated person doing vital work feel appreciated. Taking an interest in them.
I'd have discarded him as prey by now, Vanquillon said. I prefer a more...physical approach. But your slow seduction seems to have cracked his shell a bit. Almost enough to....
I got the flash of insight almost immediately as Vanquillon got it -- it was not just your run of mill fetishes. Oh no.
He was, as it turned out, into the transgressive nature of being fucked helpless by a sexy demon.
Lucky me.
Everyone wants something. And everyone has a secret lust they hide, even from themselves. Men like this, they tend to deny their lust, box it up, replace it with other passions.
Workaholics, I thought. Hell, I was one myself.
The old me, at least. So what had brought me out of my shell?
As I reflected on my own situation, I had a bit of a revelation: being overworked, unfit, and feeling unappreciated at work had probably left me feeling unworthy and under confident about my prospects. And it was easier to just shove those normal desires into a corner and ignore them.
Gentis was a functionary, a logistics grunt, amongst an army of hot men who ignored him unless they needed something. He was simply part of the machinery of the camp, and I'd lay dollars to donuts he was often taken for granted.
Ah, I see, my copilot thought. Make him feel appreciated, and you've got a chance.
So when he returned with part of my order, I asked some questions about his work, about the logistics of outfitting the group. He was hesitant to reply at first until he realized that I was bunking with Kendris and seemed to have his trust.
It was almost child's play to engage him in talking about his work and the challenges of keeping the camp running. With my own background, I was able to ask questions and deduce things about how he managed it pretty quickly, and his answers shifted from standoffish to collegial.
Get a man talking about himself....
No, that's not it. It's making an unappreciated person doing vital work feel appreciated. Taking an interest in them.
I'd have discarded him as prey by now, Vanquillon said. I prefer a more...physical approach. But your slow seduction seems to have cracked his shell a bit. Almost enough to....
I got the flash of insight almost immediately as Vanquillon got it -- it was not just your run of mill fetishes. Oh no.
He was, as it turned out, into the transgressive nature of being fucked helpless by a sexy demon.
Lucky me.
“Anyway,” Gentis said, “I guess you’d know more than I do about that.”
Shit, my focus was elsewhere.
“About?”
“About, you know…” he said, conspiratorially. “The demon. The one supposedly infiltrating the camp. Aren’t you the one who can sniff it out?”
How the heck did he know about that?
“Ummm…” I said. Great. Masterful performance there, me.
“Don’t worry, I’m not supposed to know anything. So of course, I don’t. I’m just speaking hypothetically. I know you’re a consultant and I know you’ve got some sort of special expertise.”
I managed a blank stare.
“We’re here to fight demons,” Gentis said. “It’s not that hard to figure out.”
“If…” I said, leaning into his personal space, “IF that were the case, obviously I couldn’t say much.”
“I don’t see much real action,” he admitted. “I’m good at, well, this. And because I am, I’m better used here than in combat or intelligence. But I always wondered what they’re like…” he breathed “…up close.”
How very intriguing. It seems you were correct. See how his pulse quickens as he thinks about that forbidden —
“Well,” I said, “It depends on whether you’re talking minions or leaders. The minions tend to be focused on one sin or another, and it shapes them, but they’re all the same basic body type, like us. Glutton demons are fat; cruelty demons have these jagged edges everywhere; anger and violence demons might be wiry or massively muscular.”
“…and lust demons are probably obscene,” he guessed. “Huge genitals, that sort of thing.”
“More or less. But the leaders, the powerful rulers, the demon lords and ranking powers, they’re a bit different.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. First, they’re not as singleminded; they think and plan and understand and manipulate. And while they may have one of the more base ‘types’ as a foundation, they’re far more complex, and far more like us.”
More like US, at least, my copilot added. Wait, how did you—
Yeah, I’d started talking and realized that I knew a fair amount of the lore already, from playing the game and reading all the color text. But I realized too that I was tapping into Vanquillon’s knowledge.
Beware, Eric. You risk us both if you reveal too much.
“Like us?”
“Well, they have goals, and fears, and proper senses of self,” I replied. “The minions are nearly mindless, corrupted flesh. Almost a side effect of the presence of a demon lord. But as they interact with our world, they become more individual, and far more dangerous.”
“How so?”
“They’re not from here; their forms follow their function here, and the essence that powers them determines that function.”
“I have heard they..feast on our sins.”
“To an extent. They feed on our life essence but they are drawn to life forces that echo their own tastes. So a demon bred for violence revels in bloodshed, and gains strength from it, while one powered by gluttony might consume his foes. Some draw on fear, or stoke the fires of envy.”
“And the ones driven by lust?”
“They become more and more capable of enticing that lust from mortals. Any fantasy you might haven they could become, so long as it triggers and sustains your lust.”
I glanced down as my other senses noticed his straining erection.
“So if you wanted a mate with large breasts, or fancied darker hair or shapely feet or muscle or cock, a sufficiently empowered lust demon might be able to satisfy your desires.”
“….any? Any desire?” He whispered.
Oh my.
Yeah, I felt it too. Gentis was really repressed, shamed by his odd desires. Images of massive, prehensile, barbed cocks invading him, of tentacles probing him, of massive breasts heaving above him, and more — all of it competed and mingled in his fantasy. Smells, tastes, sights, sounds, textures — all of them woven in a chaotic pattern of carnality. All of it just below the surface for this fellow, simmering away in shame. No wonder he was grumpy.
But my talking about it had triggered something, brought it all to the surface, and his sudden flush of lust hit me like a powerful ocean wave. I staggered back mentally, and felt my own form become slightly more tenuous.
Eric, no! You must control it, not allow it to control you!
I could TASTE his lust, and my body ached to obey its wishes. My cock lengthened painfully, stretching obscenely down to my knee. A buzzing feeling, almost like being drunk, danced around my too-sensitive extremities. I wanted to drink deeply of this man. But i knew it was not the time to act.
He is brimming with desire. If you take from him, you might last for days without harming him or revealing yourself. But you must do so safely.
How the hell was the demon more calm than me? I was fighting my own desire and felt I could drown in my own hunger.
Simple, Eric. You wear our flesh; I have the experience you do not at managing its demands. You are in imminent danger of losing control right now.
I should leave, I should flee, I couldn’t risk everything for a taste of this man’s lust.
Oh, Eric, allow me.
Almost gently, i felt Vanquillon impose his own control over things. I probably could have fought it, but i was terrified of losing control.
“Gentis,” I heard my voice say in a sexy purr. “Why such a keen interest in the lust demons?”
Gentis instinctively shut down the lust he was broadcasting (well, for those of us equipped to sense it), and in its place stood a bit of shame and embarrassment.
“I do hope you won’t dream about them,” my voice said. “Well, I’d better collect these things and go back to the tent…”
I left him there. Vanquillon ceded control as we exited the tent.
So that’s it. Blue balls.
What? No, you idiot. This is no different than the control of an erogenous zone. Stoking and banking his psychological lust works much like doing controlling his physical lust. Temporarily thwarted, his urge will grow now that it has a focus and an outlet. By the time he retires to sleep, his fantasies will overwhelm him.
And then we will feed properly.
* * *
And hour later, I’d stowed the gear I’d picked up; neither brother was in the tent. At Vanquillon’s prodding, I reached out with my new senses, and sure enough, i could scent Gentis through all the noise of the camp.
He is drifting off to sleep, He will be nearly asleep when we arrive.
I was already walking toward his tent, wearing a far more generic face far more average than my usual one. My stomach growled in anticipation.
***
The quartermaster lay on his cot in a gauzy night garment, a thick fireplug of a cock rudely thickening and stretching from his stocky waist. He’d just fallen asleep and already his lust-filled mind was generating new perversions.
My copilot helped me draw energy and mute the tent somewhat, though that was increasingly easy after the practice the boys had put me through. I could also sense his raging lust.
I stalked my prey. There’s no other phrase that really captures me sneaking cautiously into the tent, kneeling by the cot silently, and reaching out at long last to touch his body.
The moment i touched him, it unleashed a reality-bending wave of pure depravity that filled me like the largest buffet I could have imagined.
And I could feel my body’s form begin to shift in response…
Shit, my focus was elsewhere.
“About?”
“About, you know…” he said, conspiratorially. “The demon. The one supposedly infiltrating the camp. Aren’t you the one who can sniff it out?”
How the heck did he know about that?
“Ummm…” I said. Great. Masterful performance there, me.
“Don’t worry, I’m not supposed to know anything. So of course, I don’t. I’m just speaking hypothetically. I know you’re a consultant and I know you’ve got some sort of special expertise.”
I managed a blank stare.
“We’re here to fight demons,” Gentis said. “It’s not that hard to figure out.”
“If…” I said, leaning into his personal space, “IF that were the case, obviously I couldn’t say much.”
“I don’t see much real action,” he admitted. “I’m good at, well, this. And because I am, I’m better used here than in combat or intelligence. But I always wondered what they’re like…” he breathed “…up close.”
How very intriguing. It seems you were correct. See how his pulse quickens as he thinks about that forbidden —
“Well,” I said, “It depends on whether you’re talking minions or leaders. The minions tend to be focused on one sin or another, and it shapes them, but they’re all the same basic body type, like us. Glutton demons are fat; cruelty demons have these jagged edges everywhere; anger and violence demons might be wiry or massively muscular.”
“…and lust demons are probably obscene,” he guessed. “Huge genitals, that sort of thing.”
“More or less. But the leaders, the powerful rulers, the demon lords and ranking powers, they’re a bit different.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. First, they’re not as singleminded; they think and plan and understand and manipulate. And while they may have one of the more base ‘types’ as a foundation, they’re far more complex, and far more like us.”
More like US, at least, my copilot added. Wait, how did you—
Yeah, I’d started talking and realized that I knew a fair amount of the lore already, from playing the game and reading all the color text. But I realized too that I was tapping into Vanquillon’s knowledge.
Beware, Eric. You risk us both if you reveal too much.
“Like us?”
“Well, they have goals, and fears, and proper senses of self,” I replied. “The minions are nearly mindless, corrupted flesh. Almost a side effect of the presence of a demon lord. But as they interact with our world, they become more individual, and far more dangerous.”
“How so?”
“They’re not from here; their forms follow their function here, and the essence that powers them determines that function.”
“I have heard they..feast on our sins.”
“To an extent. They feed on our life essence but they are drawn to life forces that echo their own tastes. So a demon bred for violence revels in bloodshed, and gains strength from it, while one powered by gluttony might consume his foes. Some draw on fear, or stoke the fires of envy.”
“And the ones driven by lust?”
“They become more and more capable of enticing that lust from mortals. Any fantasy you might haven they could become, so long as it triggers and sustains your lust.”
I glanced down as my other senses noticed his straining erection.
“So if you wanted a mate with large breasts, or fancied darker hair or shapely feet or muscle or cock, a sufficiently empowered lust demon might be able to satisfy your desires.”
“….any? Any desire?” He whispered.
Oh my.
Yeah, I felt it too. Gentis was really repressed, shamed by his odd desires. Images of massive, prehensile, barbed cocks invading him, of tentacles probing him, of massive breasts heaving above him, and more — all of it competed and mingled in his fantasy. Smells, tastes, sights, sounds, textures — all of them woven in a chaotic pattern of carnality. All of it just below the surface for this fellow, simmering away in shame. No wonder he was grumpy.
But my talking about it had triggered something, brought it all to the surface, and his sudden flush of lust hit me like a powerful ocean wave. I staggered back mentally, and felt my own form become slightly more tenuous.
Eric, no! You must control it, not allow it to control you!
I could TASTE his lust, and my body ached to obey its wishes. My cock lengthened painfully, stretching obscenely down to my knee. A buzzing feeling, almost like being drunk, danced around my too-sensitive extremities. I wanted to drink deeply of this man. But i knew it was not the time to act.
He is brimming with desire. If you take from him, you might last for days without harming him or revealing yourself. But you must do so safely.
How the hell was the demon more calm than me? I was fighting my own desire and felt I could drown in my own hunger.
Simple, Eric. You wear our flesh; I have the experience you do not at managing its demands. You are in imminent danger of losing control right now.
I should leave, I should flee, I couldn’t risk everything for a taste of this man’s lust.
Oh, Eric, allow me.
Almost gently, i felt Vanquillon impose his own control over things. I probably could have fought it, but i was terrified of losing control.
“Gentis,” I heard my voice say in a sexy purr. “Why such a keen interest in the lust demons?”
Gentis instinctively shut down the lust he was broadcasting (well, for those of us equipped to sense it), and in its place stood a bit of shame and embarrassment.
“I do hope you won’t dream about them,” my voice said. “Well, I’d better collect these things and go back to the tent…”
I left him there. Vanquillon ceded control as we exited the tent.
So that’s it. Blue balls.
What? No, you idiot. This is no different than the control of an erogenous zone. Stoking and banking his psychological lust works much like doing controlling his physical lust. Temporarily thwarted, his urge will grow now that it has a focus and an outlet. By the time he retires to sleep, his fantasies will overwhelm him.
And then we will feed properly.
* * *
And hour later, I’d stowed the gear I’d picked up; neither brother was in the tent. At Vanquillon’s prodding, I reached out with my new senses, and sure enough, i could scent Gentis through all the noise of the camp.
He is drifting off to sleep, He will be nearly asleep when we arrive.
I was already walking toward his tent, wearing a far more generic face far more average than my usual one. My stomach growled in anticipation.
***
The quartermaster lay on his cot in a gauzy night garment, a thick fireplug of a cock rudely thickening and stretching from his stocky waist. He’d just fallen asleep and already his lust-filled mind was generating new perversions.
My copilot helped me draw energy and mute the tent somewhat, though that was increasingly easy after the practice the boys had put me through. I could also sense his raging lust.
I stalked my prey. There’s no other phrase that really captures me sneaking cautiously into the tent, kneeling by the cot silently, and reaching out at long last to touch his body.
The moment i touched him, it unleashed a reality-bending wave of pure depravity that filled me like the largest buffet I could have imagined.
And I could feel my body’s form begin to shift in response…
Oh my, this is…
Extreme? Yeah. This guy’s a total perv.
Inventive.
Well, it was certainly unexpected. Gentis had some very unusual fantasies.
My face was first to change, my eyes and nose swallowed by a wave of flesh and my mouth widening to an obscene, toothless, grimace. My ears closed over but I could still hear a muffled heartbeat — i wasn’t sure whose — as the wave of change passed through my neck, and into my torso. There, my arm-bones reduced themselves to jelly, as thick veins writhed along their length; then the entire torso shifted and sagged a bit; my hands were next, fingers folding back only to melt into my forearms and disappearing, and then my palm pushing out into a spongy and disturbingly familiar shape.
Below, my already-large cock lengthened rapidly until it was the same length as my legs—each of which had mutated to become a twin of my meter-long cock.
My entire body had become a writhing mass of cock-tentacles, capable only of touch. I extended my tongue, hoping to test whether my taste had survived, but it too had become a cock.
A wet and squelching noise shuddered through me. Somehow this biologically improbable form could produce copious pre-cum, and I could taste it within and everywhere it touched my skin.
Well that is an interesting twist. You’ve let him overwhelm you…it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?
I wanted to respond, but my mind was blitzing out on the sensation of having all my skin made of super-sensitive penis flesh; focusing on anything else was nearly impossible.
You’ll be fine once you take him. You’re already his very odd fantasy. But maybe we can erect a sound barrier, so we arne’t disturbed.
Hah. I’d just turned into a nightmarish cock-beast; I was already disturbed.
Despite all my other senses being reduced in my current state, both my lust-sense and my senses of touch and taste remained fully intact. I knew Vanquillon was telling the truth — once I’d satisfied Gentis’ dream and fed a bit, I’d be able to reassert my own shape.
Well, not my original shape, but the one I’d been wearing for a while now.
Until then, this would have to work.
***
Gentis was generally considered by his peers to be: diligent, competent, grumpy, and necessary. Not one of them, least of all the quartermaster himself, would have listed “imaginative” or “perverted” in that inventory.
But he had, from time to time, had disturbing and recurring fantasies about being taken by a creature beyond his understanding — and somehow that had gotten tangled i his mind with an obsession with big dicks. We all have odd passing fancies, brief moments of wondering about taboo or otherwise unspoken sexual desires.
So no one was more surprise, or harder, than he was when he woke to the touch of a creature spawned by his hottest fantasy. Instead, he assumed he was still dreaming, and became sleepily enraptured by the monstrous aberration before him.
And then he attacked it with gusto, attempting to lick and suck and fuck th creature with all his might.
In practice, of course, the creature was willing and active in the sex, finding multiple ways of achieving penetration and closeness with its astoundingly weird form.
***
I woke in my own form, in Gentis’ arms. He wasn’t yet awake, but I felt myself brimming with energy.
You drank deeply of his fantasy.
Is he alright?
Nothing sleep and bit of self-realization wouldbn’t correct, Vanquillon said.
Extreme? Yeah. This guy’s a total perv.
Inventive.
Well, it was certainly unexpected. Gentis had some very unusual fantasies.
My face was first to change, my eyes and nose swallowed by a wave of flesh and my mouth widening to an obscene, toothless, grimace. My ears closed over but I could still hear a muffled heartbeat — i wasn’t sure whose — as the wave of change passed through my neck, and into my torso. There, my arm-bones reduced themselves to jelly, as thick veins writhed along their length; then the entire torso shifted and sagged a bit; my hands were next, fingers folding back only to melt into my forearms and disappearing, and then my palm pushing out into a spongy and disturbingly familiar shape.
Below, my already-large cock lengthened rapidly until it was the same length as my legs—each of which had mutated to become a twin of my meter-long cock.
My entire body had become a writhing mass of cock-tentacles, capable only of touch. I extended my tongue, hoping to test whether my taste had survived, but it too had become a cock.
A wet and squelching noise shuddered through me. Somehow this biologically improbable form could produce copious pre-cum, and I could taste it within and everywhere it touched my skin.
Well that is an interesting twist. You’ve let him overwhelm you…it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?
I wanted to respond, but my mind was blitzing out on the sensation of having all my skin made of super-sensitive penis flesh; focusing on anything else was nearly impossible.
You’ll be fine once you take him. You’re already his very odd fantasy. But maybe we can erect a sound barrier, so we arne’t disturbed.
Hah. I’d just turned into a nightmarish cock-beast; I was already disturbed.
Despite all my other senses being reduced in my current state, both my lust-sense and my senses of touch and taste remained fully intact. I knew Vanquillon was telling the truth — once I’d satisfied Gentis’ dream and fed a bit, I’d be able to reassert my own shape.
Well, not my original shape, but the one I’d been wearing for a while now.
Until then, this would have to work.
***
Gentis was generally considered by his peers to be: diligent, competent, grumpy, and necessary. Not one of them, least of all the quartermaster himself, would have listed “imaginative” or “perverted” in that inventory.
But he had, from time to time, had disturbing and recurring fantasies about being taken by a creature beyond his understanding — and somehow that had gotten tangled i his mind with an obsession with big dicks. We all have odd passing fancies, brief moments of wondering about taboo or otherwise unspoken sexual desires.
So no one was more surprise, or harder, than he was when he woke to the touch of a creature spawned by his hottest fantasy. Instead, he assumed he was still dreaming, and became sleepily enraptured by the monstrous aberration before him.
And then he attacked it with gusto, attempting to lick and suck and fuck th creature with all his might.
In practice, of course, the creature was willing and active in the sex, finding multiple ways of achieving penetration and closeness with its astoundingly weird form.
***
I woke in my own form, in Gentis’ arms. He wasn’t yet awake, but I felt myself brimming with energy.
You drank deeply of his fantasy.
Is he alright?
Nothing sleep and bit of self-realization wouldbn’t correct, Vanquillon said.
hassent
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Perhaps it was that I’d drank so deeply of Gentis fantasies, but I felt *amazing*. I smiled and stretched — man, I was getting used to this sexy elf form — and carefully extricated myself from the burly quartermaster’s arms, and stole back to the tent where….
Oh shit.
Where the brothers awaited. I’d gone out to collect supplies about four hours ago.
I wonder what welcome we’ll find, Vanquillon mused. Do you think they’re the jealous type? I mean, aside from being willing to share you between the two of them, how do you think they’ll react to your detour?
“Stop toying with me, V.” I felt bad enough without the copilot teasing me.
But I was teasing, Vanquillon said. And it wasn’t my intent to strike a nerve so deeply. I certainly don’t profit by it.
He didn’t understand of course. He knew the mechanics of lust and desire and sensuality, but he didn’t really understand what it was like to realize you’re falling for someone, and that you’ve hurt them. Or at least, I feared I’d hurt them.
Idiot. Stop mooning and fretting, and face the situation.
I hate it when he’s right.
***
“Ah, I told you he’d return eventually,” Kendris called to his brother, with a bit more salt in his tone than I’d grown to expect. “Did the quartermaster detain you?”
“He did,” I said, truthfully.
“Ah.”
We said nothing as i sorted the garments and toiletries into piles for him and me, and Kendris busied himself unrolling two bedrolls. I noticed him hesitating as he unrolled the second, uncertain where to put it in the rather cramped space we’d squeezed into.
“Kendris, listen…”
“It’s a tight fit. Shall I put yours in here? Or would you prefer to see if my brother’s bed has room?”
That’s definitely jealousy. He’s quite cross.
Really. Like I needed a lust demon to tell me that.
Sigh. Best to bite the bullet.
“I’m sorry, Kendris, I—“
“Perhaps the quartermaster can find space for you in his chamber. I assume he has already measured.”
“This isn’t your best side, Kendris,” I said archly.
His eyes glared back. There was real hurt there.
“Shit, no. I’m sorry, Kendris…. I need to clear the air here.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t plan on it, but you weren’t here and I needed to sate the hunger safely.”
“This is my fault?”
“Fuck. No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Did your lust overtake you? Did your rutting put the camp at risk? Should I summon Meider to bind you?”
Sounds like fun.
Not helping.
“Dammit, Kendris, you know I’ve been struggling. You’re the ONLY people who know what I’m dealing with here. But you don’t understand the demands of this body. And you TOLD me that I needed to sate it or I’d put us all at greater risk.”
“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
Ouch.
“Both,” I said, sighing. “For that matter, the real me has had more sex in the past couple of days than in my whole LIFE. But I really am sorry.”
His expression remained dark.
“The quartermaster is sleeping deeply and getting real rest. He’ll be better for it in the morning. But Gentis was struggling with pent-up lust and he’s all the better for having had the release. Frankly, so am I. But that’s all it was. You know that’s all it was.”
The hurt and suspicion in his eyes grew less intense, but it didn’t go away entirely.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the floor as penance.” I did my best guilty pout, and his expression softened.
Oh shit.
Where the brothers awaited. I’d gone out to collect supplies about four hours ago.
I wonder what welcome we’ll find, Vanquillon mused. Do you think they’re the jealous type? I mean, aside from being willing to share you between the two of them, how do you think they’ll react to your detour?
“Stop toying with me, V.” I felt bad enough without the copilot teasing me.
But I was teasing, Vanquillon said. And it wasn’t my intent to strike a nerve so deeply. I certainly don’t profit by it.
He didn’t understand of course. He knew the mechanics of lust and desire and sensuality, but he didn’t really understand what it was like to realize you’re falling for someone, and that you’ve hurt them. Or at least, I feared I’d hurt them.
Idiot. Stop mooning and fretting, and face the situation.
I hate it when he’s right.
***
“Ah, I told you he’d return eventually,” Kendris called to his brother, with a bit more salt in his tone than I’d grown to expect. “Did the quartermaster detain you?”
“He did,” I said, truthfully.
“Ah.”
We said nothing as i sorted the garments and toiletries into piles for him and me, and Kendris busied himself unrolling two bedrolls. I noticed him hesitating as he unrolled the second, uncertain where to put it in the rather cramped space we’d squeezed into.
“Kendris, listen…”
“It’s a tight fit. Shall I put yours in here? Or would you prefer to see if my brother’s bed has room?”
That’s definitely jealousy. He’s quite cross.
Really. Like I needed a lust demon to tell me that.
Sigh. Best to bite the bullet.
“I’m sorry, Kendris, I—“
“Perhaps the quartermaster can find space for you in his chamber. I assume he has already measured.”
“This isn’t your best side, Kendris,” I said archly.
His eyes glared back. There was real hurt there.
“Shit, no. I’m sorry, Kendris…. I need to clear the air here.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t plan on it, but you weren’t here and I needed to sate the hunger safely.”
“This is my fault?”
“Fuck. No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Did your lust overtake you? Did your rutting put the camp at risk? Should I summon Meider to bind you?”
Sounds like fun.
Not helping.
“Dammit, Kendris, you know I’ve been struggling. You’re the ONLY people who know what I’m dealing with here. But you don’t understand the demands of this body. And you TOLD me that I needed to sate it or I’d put us all at greater risk.”
“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
Ouch.
“Both,” I said, sighing. “For that matter, the real me has had more sex in the past couple of days than in my whole LIFE. But I really am sorry.”
His expression remained dark.
“The quartermaster is sleeping deeply and getting real rest. He’ll be better for it in the morning. But Gentis was struggling with pent-up lust and he’s all the better for having had the release. Frankly, so am I. But that’s all it was. You know that’s all it was.”
The hurt and suspicion in his eyes grew less intense, but it didn’t go away entirely.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the floor as penance.” I did my best guilty pout, and his expression softened.
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This is amazing! I just discovered it and read it all in one go. You have such a skill in storytelling — vivid and hot. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next!
And yes, please keep this story going, it’s one of the best ones on here
And yes, please keep this story going, it’s one of the best ones on here
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