I have a cock.
Cinder had that realization several hours after she’d made her way back to Barnaby clad only in her blanket. Barnaby gave her a dressing down on how having sex with adventuring partners bred injustice and how he was disappointed that she’d bed a monster as if she were some over sexed bardic floozy.
Honestly? The whole spiel sounded tired, as if he were just going through the motions. Then after they’d continued on, he’d asked where Illiana had gone with something like a concerned tone in his voice.
Cinder confessed she didn’t know, but she was very sure she’d be back.
The heat will be on me when the stars show again.
She very firmly pushed those thoughts away. To her surprise, she was able to do so. Focus, she chided herself. She needed clothing before she reached the village. Her stomach churned at the thought of wearing the homespun clothing of a farmer. Combined with all her weapons, she’d walk into town looking like an inexperienced brigand. Better that than a heavily armed refugee.
Fortunately, there were several farms on the path. If kindness didn’t work, then intimidation softened by a few coins would definitely work.
The forest gave way to farmland rather suddenly. A field of green grain running right up to the line of trees. The ramshackle nature of the farmhouse did not bode well for the inhabitants having a spare set of clothing to sell, or a spare of anything really. Cinder might have passed it by if the occupant hadn’t been sitting on the uneven porch, watching the crop with a bow and arrow in their lap. With a word, Cinder and Barnaby turned from the widening path and up the hill toward the farmhouse. The farmer knocked an arrow as they approached but kept the arrow pointed at the floorboards.
“Hail! Good Afternoon.” Cinder snaked an arm out of the folds of her blanket to wave. “We mean no harm.”
“We simply serve justice!” Barnaby added.
“Ain’t nothing just come out of that forest.” The farmer drawled in a higher voice than Cinder had expected, and looking again, the spindly frame belonged to a woman, despite the more masc coded black pants and baggy whitish shirt. The point of the arrow raised an inch or two.
“Maybe,” Cinder called back, “But sometimes treasure does. I’m looking to make some purchases.”
“Got no souls for sale here.” The farmer said, her posture stiffening.
Cinder rolled her eyes and sighed.
“I’m no demon, just a devil-blooded with a fat purse and in need of some clothing. You happen to possess a spare set of trousers and shirt? I’ll pay double what it costs to replace.” She said.
A silence stretched as the farm woman’s greed warred with her caution.
“I maaay have a spare shirt or two. Leave your weapons where I see em.” She said.
Barnaby and Cinder exchanged a glance and, to her surprise, the knight shrugged. He slipped his hammer from the loop on his hip and tossed it onto the dirt path that wandered up to the house.
“I have been filled with K’arl’s justice. I have no need of weapons.” He responded to Cinder’s questioning look.
Cinder did not know how she felt about that answer. It took her considerably more time to disarm. Both because she had over a dozen knives and she struggled not to expose herself to the stranger. It would be so much easier with a second set of arms.
Once finished, she started walking up to the farmhouse, only to be stopped by the farmer outstretched palm.
“What you hiding under there?” She asked.
“My body?” Cinder said, her cheeks heating, “Look, it's a long story, but my clothes got shredded by a… monster out there. We travel light, so all I’ve got on is my spare underwear.”
“Show me.” The Farmer insisted, her jaw set stubbornly, and a sparkle of excitement in her weathered eyes.
“Excuse me?!” Cinder exclaimed, the heat in her cheeks overflowing and spreading downwards. A strange tingling gathered in her loins before she felt her clit stiffen and press against the fabric of her underwear.
It was at that moment that certainty crashed through Cinder’s mind.
I have a cock. I have a cock and the thought of this stranger seeing me naked is giving me a fucking stiffy!
“Gotta confirm your story, and who knows, you might have a second mouth in your stomach. Besides, I’m not letting you in the house alone, and there’s no privacy in there.” The Farmer said, a smirk quirking her lips.
“You could get the clothes, bring them out to me. Then I give you coin and we leave.” Cinder countered, trying to ignore the prickling that announced the rest of her sex getting in on the action.
“Anything I’ve got is gunna need some tailoring to fit. I’ll have to see it on ya. Unless either of you can use a needle.” The Farmer said.
Cinder glanced at Barnaby, the knight appeared amused. That figured. K’arl’s definition of injustice was about as defined as a watery slime. He wouldn’t know true injustice unless it plucked out his nose hairs.
“Leech.” Cinder grunted and opened the blanket, exposing her heavy bosum, narrow waist, wide hips and allowing her tail the space to lash with her irritation. “Satisfied? Or do you need to check my vagina for teeth?”
The farmer didn’t reply immediately, eyes roaming around Cinder’s body. In the silence, Cinder stared back, her imagination pushing past the baggy clothes to the trim, fit body that lay beneath. Small pert breasts, limbs toned by hard labor and firm calloused hands.
“I have a dress that might fit you if I hem the skirt a bit. I save it for market days. By the way, I’m Sal.” The farmer said.
“Cinder, and the justice fetishist is Barnaby.”
Barnaby blinked at the insult but otherwise did not respond. He wore the same serene smile he had when Cinder came into the campsite this morning.
“Come on in then, Miss Cinder.” Sal set her bow aside and opened the door to the small, one-room cabin. Cinder rolled her eyes, started to encircle herself with the blanket but stopped. No point in it now. Instead, she rolled it up and put it in her pack, which she left with her bow and pile of knives. Her hooves made loud clip-clop sounds as she strode through the door, Barnaby right on her heels.
There was an almost inaudible hiss as the knight crossed the threshold, nobody noticed the faint pink vapor that threaded through the chain mail that covered his ass.
Sal made to follow but stopped suddenly, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
“What in the gods green hells is that?” She asked, stepping forward and taking a heavy sniff of the air. Her face screwed up even tighter and her knees knocked together as a blush burned through her tanned cheeks. “Its you!”
A long finger stabbed in Barnaby’s direction as Sal pinched her nose with her other hand.
“What in Harvetia’s name, may she forgive me, did you roll in?” Sal demanded.
“I carry only the scent of K’arl’s justice.” Barnaby thrust his chest out. “I only cleanse myself in his sacred waters.”
“Take your scent of justice outside!” Sal thundered the best she could with a pinched nose and swung her finger toward the door.
“If you insist. I think you’ll find that your life is much more fulfilled after you’ve been filled with K’arl’s justice.” Barnaby said with that slightly distant smile before walking around Sal and out the door.
Once he was gone, Sal fanned at the air in the knight’s wake, while pulling at the front of her shirt. “How do you walk next to that?”
“You get used to things.” Cinder shrugged. She’d watched the exchange with some confusion. Barnaby didn’t smell great after several days in a dungeon, but he didn’t reek in any way that could have caused such a visceral reaction. Still, there was a faint hint of something… unpleasant hanging in the air now. Something like a… skunk, maybe? But you got that scent sometimes when you walked through the wood, it had probably just drifted in from the wood. Still, Sal’s flustered reaction was very curious and made Cinder’s little cock throb.
“Woooo.” Sal continued to pull at her shirt, and sweat appeared on her brow as if the room had suddenly become sweltering. “Right dress.” Rubbing her hands together, she looked around the single modest room. A bed set against one wall, a fireplace set into the other. A collection of tools decorated the far wall. A table, a basin, two chairs, a chest and a dresser were the remaining furnishings. Sal went to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. From it she produced a simple black dress. A heart was embroidered on its front, and the skirt had two external pockets that were each as large as Cinder’s quiver. “I took this in for me, probably gotta…” Sal pause to bite her lip in a slow rolling wince, her legs rubbing together. “Ah, gotta let it out for, those.” Sal gestured very vaguely at Cinder’s breasts.
“Oh these?” Cinder crossed her arms and gave her breasts a lift. Sal stared at them, jaw hanging slack before pulling herself together with a little shake.
“Yeah. Sorry. Is it really warm all of a sudden?” Sal asked.
“Wouldn’t know. I like the heat, feels comfortable to me. Why don’t you put it on me,” Cinder smiled.
“What?”
“Put it on me,” Cinder instructed as she turned around and raised her arms. “Just drop it over my head, then you can measure it.” Her tail gave a little inviting wiggle.
Sal didn’t answer, but the room filled with her labored breathing.
“Come on. You wanted a little show. Play your part, my erstwhile tailor.” Cinder said, a teeth-filled grin forming.
“Right…. Right.” Sal answered, her boots clomped on the wooden flooring behind Cinder. Then fabric fell down around her. The bodice required a lot of squeezing but she pulled the skirt down to wait after some struggle. Looking down, the fabric was taunt across her chest and it required some conscious effort to breath.
“Definitely need to let this out.” Cinder said, her voice strained.
“Hang on. I can cut a dart in the, uhhh, back.” Sal said, fumbling with a pair of scissors. Cinder couldn’t see what Sal was doing but could smell both the woman and her arousal. A peppery, earthy scent that spoke of fields and loneliness while shouting a naked need.
Stitch by cut stitch the bodice loosened until Cinder was able to take a full breath again. Sighing, she adjusted the garment and smoothed the skirt. It was so long it nearly hid her hooves. That might be okay in town, but she’d risk stepping on it while she was still walking. Not like the dress would actually hide her horns or anything.
“Nice.” She said. “Could you take it up a few inches?”
“Surrre. Lemme get pins.” Sal’s voice dragged through the words before turned around and took a stumbling step towards the dresser.
Upon seeing Sal’s exposed back and her uncoordinate gait, a single word fired across Cinder’s mind.
Prey.
Cinder pounced, a growl rising from her throat as she shove Sal up against the dresser. Her teeth went for the farmer’s neck, snapping closed just short of the skin.
“Aahh! Sorry!” Sal cried as she felt the sharp teeth press into her neck.
“Why you sorry?” Cinder growled, reaching between Sal’s legs and pressing fingers into the damp cloth. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?”
“Aaaaah! Sorry! It so hot! Can’t think. Just wanted… AAaaaaaaah!” Sal back stretched as Cinder pressed harder.
“Wanted to see my tits. Have a little powerplay at my expense. The farmer pulls one over on the devil blood be a good story. One I’ve heard before. You’re lucky I have something I really want to try out or I’d make you beg on your hands and knees. Now take off your pants.” Cinder commanded.
“Don’t underrrrrstand.” Sal panted as she struggled with her belt, it along with her pants, clattered on the floor.
“You’re so lonely I can smell your desperation. You need to get out more.” Cinder peeled her off the dresser and pushed her toward the bed. She flopped onto the mattress, legs wide, displaying a vivid pink pussy among an untrimmed bush. Just wild, wet and beautiful. Probably untouched by anything other than Sal’s own fingers for years. Cinder’s entire body flushed with warmth at the sight.
A possessive snarl rose from Cinder’s throat as she shucked off the dress. There was no foreplay or teasing. She seized Sal’s ankle, tipped her up onto her side and straddled her leg. Thankfully, Sal acted as if she’d done this before, angling her hips for maximum contact between their two pussies.
They both voiced small groans of pleasure as the lips of their pussies kissed. Sal’s head rolled back as desire met with reality. Cinder ground them together with circular motion, her little cock rubbed up and down Sal’s inner lips. Pleasure flowed, and a bit of pressure built, but not nearly enough. Her hips changed their motion to a simple hard thrusts. There, better. Her cock pressing into Sal again and again.
“More.” Sal gasped, bracing against the wall and matching Cinder’s thrust with her own motion. “Want it!”
Growling, Cinder swung off Sal’s leg, turned her flat against the mattress before dragging her to the very edge of the bed. There Cinder spread Sal’s legs and thrust herself into the hairy pussy. Pleasure engulfed her as her entire length was enveloped in Sal warm wetness. With each thrust, she felt Cinder’s pussy tighten around her as that delicious pressure built. Every impact of her hips sent shockwaves through each woman, her breasts heaved, until one of arms rose to twist a nip. Eyes closed, guided by the sensations of her body. Her thrusts grew longer, deeper as stars twinkled in the dark of her eyelids. Tighter Sal grew. Squeezing, adding pressure.
Until. A final, trembling thrust.
“RRRAAAAAAAAUUUUGGGGHH!” Cinder cried as her innards exploded into Sal. Pleasure washed through Cinder as she fell down to her knees, head bowed, breathing hard. On hand resting on Sal’s knee.
Sal made incoherent, sated-sounding whimpers.
Cinder looked up to see starry’ fluid leaking from Sal’s puffy sex and chuckled to herself.
Sal moaned anew as Cinder traced a clawed finger tip around the mound.
“There, you are a good girl Sal. I gotta go.” Cinder said, rising to hooves. Pausing, she pressed her breast to her body to peer over them. Her cock now dangled between her legs from the hood of her pussy. Beyond those black lips lay a coating of red fur that expanded down her inner thighs. What had Illiana said again? Something about changing every time they came? Saving Hearthold by making Illiana come? Did that make any sense at all?
Either way, she didn’t have any time to dally more with Sal. She hoped the farmer liked her little adventure. Cinder pulled the dress back on, took the hooded cloak hanging by the door and left a few gold coins on the table. Then walked out of the cabin and shut the door behind her without glancing back.
If she had looked back she would have seen that Sal’s sex continued to swell, becoming trifolded and the six black nipples forming on her belly and chest.
“Whaaa? Wait… Need mooar.” Sal groaned several moments after the door had closed. Her hand drifted to her puffy sex, unaware that her fingers started to thicken on contact with the sparkling cum.
Outside, Cinder posed in her new dress and gave a little spin for a smiling Barnaby.
“Not bad eh? Gonna be hitching it up on our way into town, hopefully I can get someone to hem it there.” She said, jumping down from the porch. Her little roll in the hay with the farmer had energized her. “Guess I’m riding side saddle to Hearthold.”
“You filled her with justice then?” Barnaby asked.
“Heh, thats one way to put it. Did justice to the lonely and horny. If only I could fuck the rudeness out of more people.” Cinder chuckled as she shouldered her pack and stowed her weapons. Barnaby’s new definition of “Justice” was odd but she had far more important things to deal with. Like remembering what Illiana had told her while they’d fucked last.
The pair had just returned to the path when a strange howl filled the air.
“Aaaaaawwwwwwooooooo!”
Cinder paused to look back at the little cabin.
“I uh, didn’t see a dog. Did you?” She commented.
“We must have missed it.” Barnaby shrugged, although he had a very uncharacteristic smirk.
Stay focused, Cinder told herself. The pair continued on, not looking back.