My purple hooves scuffed along the familiar blue carpet of my shop. Outside, the afternoon sun streamed in through the wide window and the glass of the door. Streaks of golden-white dappled the worn threads as I made my huffing, puffing way to the front counter. Balanced on my swollen, gravid belly, a cardboard box weighed down on my ample frame. My claws clasped the crisp, brown sides, sweat beading on my brow as I hustled to place the heavy box down on the glass countertop. With a whooshing sigh of relief, I thrust a hand to my aching lower back and wiped my hot face. 

“They could have sent these in two boxes,” I grumbled. “Well, no matter.”

With a flick of my sharp, purple talon, I slit the shiny ribbon of shipping tape. I folded back the flaps of the box and my ears pricked up as I beheld my latest treasure. Contained within were stacks of books. Their covers were a shiny black, painted with the depiction of a robed warrior. A hood was pulled over his eyes and he clutched a sword in his right hand. The eldritch blade glowed with a greenish hue, a thin wisp of magical vapor rising from the ensorcelled sword. 

I plucked one of the books from the box and said, “Ah, the next volume of Brell Ganwind’s series. Say what you will, but the man can write.” I turned the book over, my golden gaze scanning the back cover. “Let’s see, after the fateful battle on Forwhite Hill, the armies of Avenhall are in retreat. Balen returns to the Council, while the Empress Fornia brings herself to an alliance with Lord Gwinthern…” 

My ears drooped to my shoulders as I read the summary. Slowly, I placed the book back down and pinched the bridge of my nose. My glasses rode up my snout as I shook my weary head. 

“Ugh, more of this political stuff. I swear, ever since Tournament of Bones, every author fancies himself some political craftsman.” 

I shoved my pregnant body away from the counter, leaving my latest inventory still in the box. Turning to the back of the shop, I waddled my way through the rows of musty tomes and yellowed, dog-eared paperbacks. Passing the Romance section, I skirted the stack marked “Action/Adventure” on a sheet of paper in black magic marker and scooted into the rather spacious Fantasy section. Here, I halted to drink in the wonderful musty smell of the old books. I so love that moldy scent. It just puts me in a good mood. My spirits lifting, I let my tail wag gently behind me as I traced those cracked and weathered covers. Worn by time and the dampness of many a basement, the old, used books called out to me. I plucked one from the shelf, a smile curling on my violet lips. 

“Oh, this was a good one,” I said with a gleeful sigh. The cover depicted a barbaric warrior wielding an enchanted sword. Before him, standing atop a pile of bloody, cracked skulls was a wizard. His skin was a mottled grey and tight, like old parchment. The wicked old fiend held the buxom damsel in cruel iron chains. His thin, clawed fingers were extended towards the hero, daring the barbarian to come to him. “Oh yeah, they knew how to write them back then. No fuss, no political junk. Just the pure adrenal rush, and the hot, gut-wrenching delight of bare, hard flesh.” 

Heat bloomed in my cheeks as I looked down at the muscled chest of the hero. I bit my lower lip, cracking open the pages with a little giggle. In the pale glow of the lumin crystal above me, I let the words leap out from the page. The room spun around me, swirling, bubbling, cascading with a verdant light until I found myself in another world. My hands ached, held fast above my head in the cold clasp of black, pitted iron. No longer was I wearing the simple olive dress, buttoned down my front, leaving a pleasing gap of chocolate skin between the hem and my thick leg fur. No, instead, I was clad in a flowing gown of thin, scarlet gauze. The flimsy material wafted on the fetid air like vapor, swirling and undulating, a crimson smoke which hugged my ample curves. My bare skin shone through the thin gown, a glowing, deep mocha that shimmered in the guttering light of the torches lined upon the walls of the gruesome chamber. Their flickering green flames left a greasy soot stain upon the yellowed ivory walls of the Palace of Bones. My dark nipples stood erect, thrusting through the gauze like twin spears. My hips were deliciously wide, filling out my full, soft thighs and the fat, soft wobble of my ass. I mewled pitifully and tugged in vain at the iron chains around my wrists. The room was a vast shadowed chamber. The floor was of bare skulls, their empty eye sockets leering up at me while their toothy maws remained frozen in a gruesome rictus smile. The osseous walls sloped, formed from the ribs of some gigantic primeval creature, meeting together in the center of the vaulted ceiling where a large green crystal hung. The gem shuddered, letting out a dull hum as it pulsed with a sickening glow. The Eye of Oromalox, the dreaded cursed gem of power wielded by the wizard, Malabalinon. My ears drooped as I hung my head, my body sagging against my fetters. 

Suddenly, there came a peal of evil laughter which boomed from the very shadows all around me. I looked up, my heart turning to water, for there stood the hated fiend himself. His skin was grey as stone, weathered and tight like stiff parchment. He smiled from his too wide mouth, black lips pulling back from rotted gums, revealing rows of chipped, blackened teeth. His eyes swirled crimson with an unholy light. He wore a flowing robe of deep ochre which shimmered like spilled blood in the torchlight. Flanking the wizard, a being of utter nightmare stood sentry. A golem of living flesh. Its skin was a dull purple, crossed with thick, dark veins. Its overly muscled arms terminated in a pair of blades wrought from solid bone. From the center of its bloated belly, a single great eye goggled at me, while its head was a shrunken, misshapen thing which made the bile rise in my throat just to look at it.

“Come now,” the wizard spoke, his voice a dry rasp. His withered hand came up to cup my graceful chin. My skin crawled, repulsed by the clamminess of his vile touch. “My fair, sweet princess Rumala. There’s no need to look so despondent. Surely, once the moon has reached its zenith and the ritual is complete, then you and I shall be wed before my master, the arch-demon Gramorlaax.” 

A sneer greased my face. “I would rather die first, monster,” I cried and spat upon the wizard.

Malabalinon recoiled, letting go of my chin to wipe away the spittle from his hoary face. “Ah, such spirit you have.” His mouth turned down in a frown as his voice dropped into a low, threatening groan. “I will enjoy sapping that life from you little by little, whore.”

“Never,” I cried, my chains rattling as I flung myself forward. “You will never have me. Prince Baerathorn will come. He will put an end to you, wizard. My hero will slay you.”

A sharp crack echoed from the grim halls. My cheek erupted in flame as the hot print of the wizard’s hand throbbed upon my brown flesh. My mouth filled with the warm tang of copper and I spat a bloody wad to the bony floor. A crimson ribbon trickled down my chin, staining my garments as I fought back the angry tears which stung my eyes. 

“I will hear no more of Baerathorn,” the wizard roared. “Your hero is no more. Perished in the Halls of the Deaf at the hands of the moon-demons. He will not save you now.”

“You’re lying,” I shrieked. Tears flowed freely down my painful cheeks, my lip quivering. “He’s not dead. Not my love.”

Malabalinon leaned closer, his face a rictus of pure evil. His breath reeked of decay as he spoke. “You will do best to submit to me now, princess.” His eyes turned to the grotesque servitor beside him. The beast remained motionless, as if frozen in time. “Perhaps, I should let Quoroliux here have a turn with you? Would you like that? Mayhap, that would take some of the fight from you.”

My slender shoulders trembled as I sobbed. “You’re a monster, a demon.”

“Yes,” the wizard laughed. “I am.”

“Baerathorn,” I wept. “Where are you?”

Malabalinon snarled. “I told you, he’s dead. Call him all you wish, but your prince is no more.”

“Baerathorn,” I cried. “Baerathorn.”

“Enough,” the wizard shouted. His hand flew back, poised to strike.

“Stand down, wizard!” 

The cry was as a bronze gong clanging in the oppressive gloom. Instantly, my heart flew to my throat, for there was but one who could utter such a cry. I turned my gaze to the open portal of the chamber of bones, my golden eyes growing wide. There, framed in the tall doorway, stood a god made flesh. His bronzed fur shone in the light, rippling with the sway of his mighty thews. His arms were thick with corded muscle, lithe with a pantherish grace as he strode across the ossified floor. He wore naught but a simple cloth around his narrow hips. His clawed feet were encased in a pair of leather sandals. His ears were swiveled back, flat against his skull, while the fur on his tail bristled. In his hand, he held a massive sword, wrought from a single, blue crystal. 

“Prince Baerathorn,” the wizard cried. “But how?”

The warrior stopped, thrusting his sword at the wicked fiend. “By the light of the enchanted blade of Cosmic Ice did I best your champions in the Hall of the Deaf.” The prince stood proudly, his gaze never wavering. “You thought me lost for all eternity in the Realm of Xoctiuxal, but I escaped.”

“I see the hand of the Sorceress is with you,” spoke the wizard. “I should have known that my sister would interfere.”

“Indeed,” cried Baerathorn. “Now, return to me the princess, wizard. Else, you taste the blade.”

Malabalinon took a step back, his crimson eyes narrowing. “I think not, fool. Quoroliux, attack him.” 

I watched in horror as the charnel fiend launched itself at my love. The monster charged, both arms outthrust to gore the prince. But, Baerathorn sidestepped the creature and with a deft swing, batted aside one bony spike, coming around with a sweeping strike to hew the horrific limb from the monster’s body. Crimson gore showered over the floor, while from the shrunken head there came a thin cry. The beast whirled, bringing its remaining arm to bear. Baerathorn ducked the blow, slipping under the creature’s guard to thrust his crystal blade deep into the baleful eye of the beast. The monster shuddered as thick ichor gushed from the shattered globe, pooling in a churning puddle of rancid ooze. Pulling his blade free, Baerathorn stepped back, letting the body drop with a heavy thud. Flicking the blood from his sword, he then turned to me and the wizard. 

My heart sang to see my hero victorious. “My prince, I’m here.”

He raised a hand, his fingers extending towards me. “Fair Rumala, I will free you yet.”

The chamber erupted with the flicker of green lightning and I did cry out as jagged lances of dancing light burst from the chest of my dear Baerathorn. The great warrior fell, his body motionless as the cackle of the wizard boomed. 

“Not so, fool,” cried Malabalinon. “You only delayed your doom. Now, suffer for all eternity.” 

From his fingertips there came the dread arcane lightning. My mouth tore open in a scream of such utter horror, my hoarse cries echoing from the bone covered walls. “No, my prince.” 

But, to my amazement, the warrior rose. Though his fur was blackened, he stood with a fire lit in his eyes. Held in his mighty hand, the enchanted sword blazed with a bright, white light. My eyes smarted, as if I stared into a miniature sun and I had to look away. 

“Your tricks are not enough, wizard,” I heard Baerathorn bellow. “Now, fight me.”

From the voluminous sleeve of his robe, Malabalinon produced a strangely curving blade, like an enormous kris knife. The undulating curves were as that of some vile serpent, the steel a noxious green. The wizard leapt at the warrior with an agility which belied his withered frame. His sword met the crystal blade with a great crash. Again, the strike was met, Baerathorn turning the dreadful weapon aside, knocking the wizard back. 

“By the Sorceress this ends,” he roared and brought the sword down. 

The death knell of the fiend resounded in the hall as light tore through the form of Malabalinon. The wizard fell, his body nothing more than a dried out husk. Baerathorn staggered, blood trickling from his many wounds, running down his rippling belly as he turned and came to me. The veins on his arms swelled as he tore the pitted iron from my slender wrists. 

“My prince, my love,” I cried, falling into his deep, warm chest. “You came at last.” 

His arms fell around me, crushing me to him. “I promised I would, my love.” His voice a low purr in my ear. “Let us return to Fortress Greyhawk and leave this evil place behind.”

I took his noble head in my trembling hands. Bringing his lips to mine, I claimed his powerful mouth. His tongue was hot and rough as it darted between my fangs. I suckled that writhing, pink serpent, not daring to let him go as his great clawed hand came to rest on the back of my head. His other hand fell to clasp the full swell of my rump, making me jump with a start. A thrill raced down my spine, filling me with a heady desire. My heart thundered against his strong, broad chest. My fingers glided along the hard ripple of his abdominals, my anus beginning to grow wet and slack as my body responded to his touch. 

“Yes,” I moaned, releasing my hold on his mouth. “Let us return home, my champion. It is high time I rewarded you.”

[center]***[/center]

The return to Fortress Greyhawk saw me held within my lover’s arms as his mighty charger thundered over the muddy roads. The sky above was a dull grey with the first snows of winter just beginning to fall. The squat, thatch roofs of the village greeted us as we made our way to the imposing pile of grey stone which lorded over the granite mountainside. Scooping me in his arms, Baerathorn carried me from the stables and up the winding, stone staircase. There, atop the highest tower, my prince did make his bed. His chambers were a grand room with a floor of darkly polished oak which glistened with the liquid radiance of the fireplace which crackled as he so proudly strode the creaking boards. His bed was massive, an overstuffed mattress of goose down piled with the snow white furs of the mountain apes which haunted the frost rimed forests. The soft, white fur rustled beneath the pads of my fingertips as he laid me down. A tall window was left open, the mountain breeze billowing the wine curtains, bringing with it the first flecks of frost in the early evening air. The chill of the frosty night raised gooseflesh upon my chocolate skin and I hunkered deeper into the furs, seeking the warmth and the gentle smell of Baerathorn’s body.

“My prince,” I moaned. “Please, come to me.” I held out my clawed hand, pleading with him that he may join me in the bed. My long hair spilled like ink across the albin furs which covered the bed, sticking to my chocolate flesh as I tilted a wide, shapely hip, offering my lover an enticement I knew he did not truly need. My claw ran along the full curve of my side, gliding up to the high peak of my hip. I propped myself on my elbow, my bloated breasts falling freely, their firm nipples rubbing so delightfully against the furs that I shuddered in rapt pleasure. “Or is my hero at last too weak to take even a wanting, young maiden?”

A wicked grin formed on the lips of my love. With a deft motion of his powerful hands, he did strip away the loincloth from around his waist, laying himself bare to me. My heart fairly leapt from my breast to his see manhood standing so proudly before me. A pillar of dark brown flesh, studded with ropey veins that pulsed his hot lifeblood as they cradled his throbbing rod. His cock shone like an obelisk of rich marble, illumined in the firelight that I may trace every wonderful contour. His balls were as two ripe pears, dangling between sleek, muscled thighs. My throat burned and I swallowed back against the sudden tightness as my anus did itch with the desire to receive him. 

My love came to me, his cock like a lance as he took hold of my thin garments. With a rip, he tore my tattered rags away from me, casting them to the floor as so much rubbish. I gave a small cry and wrapped my arm around my full breasts, a blush suffusing my cheeks. 

“My love,” I said, not daring to meet his terrible gaze. “You have disrobed me.”

His hands, calloused and hard as iron, seized me. Baerathorn crushed me to his bare chest, his scent flooding my nostrils. The raw aroma of his sweat combined with the sharp tang of his musk, made my head swim. With trembling hands, I did lay my fingers upon his chest, spreading them over his hard pectorals. My fingers glided across his soft, bronze fur, the faintest rasp echoing in my ears as I traced the blackened mark left above his heart by the cruel wizard’s lightning. 

“You are hurt so,” I whimpered, my ears drooping. 

“Nay,” said the prince. “Tis no matter. My strength will never fail thee.”

I shook my head. “No, you are injured. I must soothe your hurts, my love.”

My soft lips met his wounded flesh, spreading gently over the charred hide as my warm tongue slithered along the course, burned fur. Baerathorn cupped my head in his massive paw, groaning audibly as I let my tongue glide up his chest to fill the hollow of his collarbone with my kisses. I grazed his thick neck, my hungry mouth so eager to claim his sweet lips. The prince placed his hand beneath my delicate chin, tilting my head back so that he may seize my honeyed mouth for his own. My tail wagged behind me as those hot, strong lips did lay claim to me. His broad tongue slid past my fangs to rub the roof of my mouth. I moaned through my nose, my hands scrabbling along his powerful back, delighting in the way his muscles moved beneath his skin. His hands gripped me fiercely, fingers questing for the ripe swell of my fat ass. 

His claws dug into my rump, eliciting a squeal as we filled the room with the wet popping of our mouths. I tore my lips from his, my tongue twining around his own in the open air between us. Jaws slack, saliva running freely down our chins, we savored the warmth and the sweet aroma of our breath. Meanwhile, the prince was laying me down upon the bed, his great body coming to rest beside me. My claw traveled down his rippling belly, fingers tangling in his scruffy pubic fur as I sought his throbbing manhood. His cock pulsed, hot and hard in my fingers as I gripped his mighty shaft. Baerathorn trembled in my grasp, a shimmering bead of fresh dew upon his tip as I stroked his rigid member. Down, my hand did slide, only to rise back up. My sharp claws tickled his tight flesh, making him moan so. 

“Oh, my love,” he sighed. “Your touch brings such joy to my soul.”

“Lay back and I shall bring you more joy than just your soul,” I laughed. 

Baerathorn fell back, his legs opening to me as I slipped between his thighs. His cock called to me, begging for me to take it. Carefully, I peeled back the foreskin, laying the velvet tip bare. Bulbous, spongy, I licked my lips in anticipation. My mouth stretched wide and I descended. The prince let out a cry as my lips wrapped around his throbbing groin. The tang of sweat and the bitter taste of his shimmering precum rolled across my tongue as I eagerly lapped at his sweet flesh. Down, I plunged to nestle my nose in his pubic fur. I inhaled the spice of his musk, his odor inflaming my senses, driving me wild. My lips tightened and I pulled my head back, milking his stiff rod. 

“R-Rumala,” I heard him groan. His great hands took me by the head, driving me down once more. “My love, yes.”

My golden gaze was as two languid pools of molten bronze as I suckled his throbbing cock. My tongue sang as he spurted his shining precum into the back of my throat. I pulled back, releasing his slippery, shiny member to swallow that blessed load. His cock twitched, hard and ready. I rose, straddling Baerathorn’s waist. My lips fell to a dark, erect nipple, my tongue slithering around the stiff bud as my lover did grip my cheeks. The veins in his mighty arms did bulge and strain with heroic exertion as he parted my fat cheeks. The cool air of the bedroom kissed my slackened flower and I shivered, sitting back so that his smooth tip did meet my gaping ring. 

Baerathorn’s hands were at my waist, his fingers pressing me back. With a smile on my lips, I looked into his gentle eyes and fell back, impaling myself upon his rigid spear. His meat filled me, spreading my rectum painfully wide as his cock crashed into my quivering prostate. My body seized, growing tight around his pole so that Baerathorn dug his fingers into my fleshy hips and grunted. His face became crimson as I rose up, crashing back down into his pubic bone. My rump gyrated, twisting around his cock, squeezing his manhood so that may draw him deeper into me. My love moaned, wrapping his arms around me, drawing me to him as I continued to hug his throbbing shaft. 

With swift motion, he turned, planting me on the bed. Now above me, his massive body framed in the orange radiance of the firelight, he parted my soft, jiggling thighs. His fingertips glided over my smooth skin, seeking the soft, full mounds of my ample bosom. He took my breast in his strong fingers, kneading the wobbling orb like fresh dough, bringing me ever closer to dizzying ecstasy. His great weight upon me, his muscled belly writhing against my rounded middle, he planted his warm, dry lips to my bare flesh. With the gentleness that made tears sting my eyes and my dear heart flutter, he kissed my sternum, his mouth tracing a wondrous path to my right breast. Black lips ensnared my dark areola, a hot, rough tongue slithering around my erect nipple. Baerathorn flicked the firm nub, savoring my tender hide before his fangs closed hard around my flesh. Pain and pleasure boiled inside me as he pulled back, tugging hard on my nipple. My breast slipped from his mouth with a snap, jiggling on my chest as my love gave out a hearty laugh. 

But, he was far from finished. His lips traveled the expanse of my sweet, soft belly, his tongue pausing to dip into the deep well of my navel. A shiver ran down my spine and I clutched the white furs beneath me, biting down on my lower lip as I moaned from deep within my chest. 

“Ah, Baerathorn,” I sighed. 

My love’s hands came to my thighs, gently parting my eager legs to lay my most precious secret bare. My cock rose from the thick jungle of pubic fur, a slender pillar of quivering dark flesh to contend with the prince’s throbbing tower. A shimmering trickle of precum flowed like hot wax down my shaft, glinting like the razor edge of a dagger in the firelight. Baerathorn’s supple fingers slid along my ticklish inner thigh, making me giggle as I watched his great head lower. My eyes suddenly grew wide, for surely was not about to do what I thought he would do. 

“Oh, my prince,” I whimpered. “Surely you are not going to--”

My back arched painfully as utter bliss exploded in my brain. Soft lips touched my precious tip as my love kissed my rigid shaft. His mouth wandered down the plump underside, his tongue swirling over my cock, licking at my sweet juices. My clawed hand flew to my breast and I gasped as the air was blasted from my aching lungs. 

“Ah! A-Ah!”

Still, he ignored my pained cries, that cruel, wonderful man. He plunged lower, his mouth nestling into my scrotum. His lips wrapped around my balls, taking them into his mouth, while his tongue slithered out to savor my perineum. I could take no more. My belly heaving, I sobbed in such delighted torture, that Baerathorn rose, pulling his mouth from me. His great paw grabbed my leg, turning me onto my belly so that my fat rump now pointed to the oak beams above. A contented sigh on my lips, I arched my back, lifting my ass high, my tight ring revealing itself from between my cheeks. The prince took my wide, round hips, his breath scorching against my flesh as he descended between those wobbling peaks to plunge into my gaping anus. His lips met my quivering ring with a kiss that stole the breath from my lungs. His tongue, ever so nimble, slid into my rectum, thrusting deep to penetrate my very core. His rough tongue pulled back, rubbing slowly, tortuously against my smooth flesh. I cried out, my claws gripping the bed as I wept hot tears of such elation. 

Alas, my torture would come to an end as he pulled away. Panting, groaning, I gulped the sweet, cold air, sweat making my skin shiny and slick. His cock, that great pillar of manhood guided to my open anus, his tip pressing into me. He slid effortlessly into my wet, slack ring, pressing deep that he may strike my quivering prostate like a blacksmith his anvil. My belly clenched, growing tight with the sudden expansion as his raw manliness filled me. My jaws fell open as I let out a bellyaching grown of delight. Baerathorn’s powerful body fell atop me, crushing me to the bed as he pumped with a renewed vigor that made stars burst in my eyes. The wet slap of his pelvis against my ass rang out, forming the beat to which my increasingly ecstatic cries did follow. 

“A-Ah! Harder, my love,” I cried.

His pace quickened, bringing me to giddy jubilee. His hands clutched my belly, sliding along my curving sides to lay siege to my jiggling breasts. With my soft mounds in his hands, he sat up, bringing me with him. On my knees, I raised my slender arms to wrap behind his neck. My nipples, so achingly hard, begged to be plucked like ripe cherries. My love did not disappoint, for soon I was crying out in pained glee as he squeezed those firm nubs between thumb and forefinger. He exhaled, drawing back, at the same time he pinched hard, pulling on each nipple so that I could do naught but whimper in his arms. 

His muscled belly dancing against my back, my love’s fingers left my breast to trace the curve of my slender throat. His claws met my chin, rising still to caress my lips. One by one, I kissed those blessed digits, my mouth parting in numbing delight to take his two fingers between my jaws. My lips closed around his fingers, my tongue swirling, licking the salty tang from his fingertips as he caressed my tongue. Meanwhile, his other hand descended, cupping my round belly, his claws scratching gently on soft, lower abdomen. My womb quivering beneath his touch, desiring nothing more than to accept his virile seed. His fingers tangled into my pubic fur. Finding my member, he curled around my scrotum, his hard, strong hands growing softer, gentler as he embraced my delicate groin. Shimmering precum flowed down his wrist as he stroked me, bringing my churning balls to a boil. His hips crashed into me, raising me up, circling, bringing me back down. Baerathorn locked his hips to mine, his tip rubbing against my prostate, stealing a wailing scream from my hoarse throat. 

“Yes,” I shrieked. “Oh yes!”

My love lowered me to the bed, his cock throbbing inside me, ready to release. His pelvis ground itself into my fleshy ass as he pushed back. His face was scarlet, sweat pouring from his bare skin to rain down on my back in fat, opalescent droplets as he began to move faster, harder, his desire building to frothing boil. 

“We will sire a lineage to last a thousand lifetimes,” he whispered. He bent down to kiss the back of my ear.

“O-Oh, yes,” I sobbed. “Give me your child.”

My womb trembled with the need to lap at his virile seed, to grow full and heavy with his offspring. My belly rumbled, compelling me to take him into me. I wished for nothing less than to become pregnant with the prince’s heir. 

“Give me your sweet blessing,” I cried. “I want to bear your children.”

His hard cock slid deep, swirling around my core, pulling back, now colliding with my weakening gland. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I let out a shriek of unbridled joy. 

“Baerathorn! Baerathorn!” I cried. 

His seed burst into me, flooding my hungry womb, swelling my belly with his rich essence. Already, my swollen middle did bubble with the fluttering of fetal kicks. My milk-heavy breasts leaked upon the bed soaking into the furs as my dark areolas grew wider. 

“Oh, yes! Yes! Yes!”

I fell back against the flimsy particle board, dislodging an entire shelf’s worth of used paperbacks to tumble down upon my head before scattering on the floor. Instantly, my eyes snapped open. 

“Huh? Baerathorn?” I called. 

I stood once again in the shop, not a soul to be seen. 

“Oh my,” I said. I placed a claw to my now sweat soaked breast. “Oh geez, I did it again.” A bloom of heat spread across my cheeks as I quickly scanned the stacks. “I just hope no one saw that.”

I turned my gaze down at the floor and frowned. 

“Great,” I muttered, my hands on my wide hips. “Now I’ll have to pick all of these books up. Ammah, you did this time.” Taking a deep breath, I spread my hooves in preparation for the arduous task of lowering my bloated frame to the floor. “Just got to lower myself, nice and slow.”

I managed to reach a half-squat when the color drained from my face. My fingers nudged something hot and soft, yet throbbing rigid in my palm. 

“Oh no,” I gasped. 

My now erect penis was protruding from beneath the hem of my skirt. So worked up had I become, that I was now sporting a massive erection that stuck out from my panties like a fleshy lance. My heart leapt into my mouth. With a speed which belied my gravid frame, I leapt up, leaving the books where they lie and raced for the front counter. There, next to the register, was my phone. I scooped up the smooth rectangle of plastic and glass and thumbed the buttons. 

“Hello,” I said. “Yes, it’s me. I, um, did it again. Yeah, the fantasy books. Yes, I know, it’s silly.” My ears drooped. “I was the maiden this time. Don’t laugh! Look, this is serious. What if someone comes in and sees this? Okay, I’ll be waiting, thanks Fereya.”

I sat my phone back down and braced my palms on the counter. My throbbing shaft pulsed with the anticipation of my sweet Fereya’s embrace. 

“I just hope she gets here before someone else does,” I gulped.

