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The species known as Tsareena is one of which is heralded as the most
divine of them all in terms of both their floral aromas and their majestic,
somewhat bewitching beauty, earning them a place high atop the pillars
of the various industries of the world, from cosmetics to fashion alike.
However, one well kept secret about their kind is that, while they are indeed
one of, if not the most alluring species on the planet, this is actually a double
edged sword. Because of their scent, armies of males are helplessly lured
toward them and are weakened due to the intense pheromones mixed in
their aroma like a poisonous, yet irresistible cocktail.
This works against their species in a way that, as they are the most divine
smelling female race, in turn for whatever reason the scent of a male is
their own greatest weakness. The stronger his musk, the more helpless
they become, with their species drawn just as helplessly to the filthy sort
the most of all who can give off a scent so thick it's crippling.
This is why, on a particularly long trip where baths are few and far
between and the weather is scorching, Valora is the ideal woman
to call upon when the time comes for a thorough cleansing. Knowing
full well the reputation her species holds, being summoned for such
a deed is infuriating, albeit merely an initial attitude.
With his hand pinning her crown to instill subservience, Valora's lover
knows all too well how her insults at the beginning are merely a shield
for her true emotions, though he doesn't object to letting her belittle
him for the state of his manhood as she insists on her hatred of the act.
Exposing her lover's manhood, and the powerful stench of a masculine
traveler that comes with it, the differences in their aroma's are so night
and day it seems like a hellish sin to mix them together, one of which
her lover is all too eager to commit as he pulls her, literally, into the
next stage of her responsibility.
Done with her remarks and ready for her service, Valora's lover merely
takes her by the hair and rams his crotch against her face, smearing her
with the slick gathering of sweat that has built after the long trek of the
day. And though at first she tries her best to remain straight faced and
stern, it doesn't take long for his overpowering scent to daze her.
Once she has fallen enough, Valora begins seeking out his musk of
her own volition, shoving herself within the creases of his member and
sack to clean hard to reach places in particular before she is drawn to
an even filthier part of her lover, tilting her head and diving into the
source of his most prominent aroma and savoring it like a treat.
When she has finished cleaning his every inch, she helplessly moves
on to service him as her hormones go into overdrive, forced by her
own nature to pleasure the man who filled their tent with such a
powerful musk. Though many women may back away from a man in
such neglected condition, Valora's species live to worship their mate
when his body gives off the musk of a man who's worked hard.
If one were to walk in on this act, the hormones that have thickened
the air from her divine aromas mixed with that of her filthy, dominant
lover would be enough to drive many mad, craving the source of
such pleasant, luscious smells yet intimidated by such a powerful
musk from the man she bows to and dutifully cleanses.
As she would look back, her expression would be that of a female
which has fallen far beyond the point of helpless, engulfed in a
bottomless chasm of such need for the source of that which weakens
her, even if one could separate her from that which is crammed in her
mouth, it would be her rescuer attacked.
And not by her mate, but she herself would show no mercy to any
who would try to take her away before rushing back to the crotch
which calls to her so strongly, from the male which won her heart
long before she realized just how delightful he could smell, how
delicious he could taste...
And as she oozes all over the ground, her own hand clearly seen
exploring her nether region while her other hole shows obvious
signs of how many times her lover has used it for his own needs,
this is the image of a woman gazing upon any who would come
across the scene...
And clearly saying with her eyes alone it's too late. Her body has
been as ruined as her mind, her addiction far too great for any to
pull her from, and if anyone did think of trying to rescue her, all
her lover would do is merely smirk and insist one try, knowing of
how fiercely she would fight just to return and finish her duty.
This is the truth of the Tsareena species hidden from the world,
as should it know of just how kinky, and filthy these females are,
their place at the top would plummet overnight, and as Valora
looks back as she cradles the seed filled sack of her mate and
slobbers all over his manhood...
It's like a silent admittance of the truth, the shameful, humiliating,
irresistible truth of a species so worshiped, that actually want
nothing more than to be the ones worshiping the filthiest men of all...
Oh how cruel the Gods, to create such divinity yet reduce it to
a purpose of such a raunchy, wicked sin.