And what a room it was. It had been left mostly untouched by its occupiers, and the whole room shimmered with white marble, gold and the bright lapis blue. A double-row of pale, humanoid statues ran its length, towards a rear wall made up of one huge window that opened up onto a balcony left open to the sky; I could see the stars gleaming above, and Swyndel's multicolored streetlights glimmering below. One concession to the Spire's new owners was a large bar, which had been set up in one corner of the room, and several long tables piled high with foods of all kinds had been laid out. Light, along with the odd, halting music, came from the crystals set into the walls or mounted in iron frames rising from the floor, and a great chandelier hung above; the crystals set within didn't glow, but instead reflected the light cast by those elsewhere in the room, casting it down like a thousand bright shards of glass.

The room was already packed, both with guests and serving-staff, and several raised their glasses in greeting as we entered. The baron - and myself, a heartbeat behind him - waved in return.

We began to circle the room, meeting and greeting. I was introduced to the short man in the golden cape, who turned out to be called Garrith Stoneson; a half-Dwarf, apparently. His guest simply introduced himself as Brakkith; he was the leader of one of the local Orc clans, and had a hand in the city's army and guards. Brakkith wasn't much taller than me, though the heels helped, but he was enormously broad, with the heavy, round belly that well-fed Orcs often develop. He was dressed in the most ridiculously stereotypical barbarian outfit imaginable, little more than a small loincloth and a furry cape. He laughed heartily at my jokes, and told me to find him later; he might have a job for me.

"So," I asked, as we parted from the pair. "How did you find out about me, anyway?"

"I rounded up several attractive young men from among my staff, gave them all a sum of money, and told them to spend it on whores then compare notes." The baron replied. I burst out laughing when, several moments later, I realized he wasn't joking. He described several of them and, yes, they matched the descriptions of a number of clients I'd had over the past fortnight.

As we circled, I was again aware of just how many people were looking at me. The combination of my race and outfit drew the approving gaze of almost everyone I passed, and more than one of them didn't just settle for looking. Though the first few caught me off guard, I soon got used to the feeling of uninvited hands on my body; usually my ass and thighs, or my tail - including one guy who slipped a finger right under my tailspot, forcing me to bite down on my lip or squeal out in the middle of a conversation with a rather severe-looking Kobold lady - but more than one person went for my breasts when they thought I was otherwise occupied.

I liked it. It didn't feel like I was being taken advantage of or anything - my body was exposed, put on display, and their touches felt like a token of their appreciation. I found myself almost trying to encourage it; using my tail to 'accidentally' brush my rear loincloth aside to invite people to touch me from behind, or co-incidentally turning towards someone and looking away if they seemed particularly interested in the curve of by chest. Cathwar certainly noticed it was happening, but he didn't seem to care. Indeed, after he shot me a wry look as another man slid his hand frustratingly close to my heat, I got the feeling that he liked the idea of me being public property. My mind wandered back to the fantasy I'd had in the corridor, and suddenly, it didn't seem that far-fetched.

Now and then, I'd catch sight of the same trio of long horns I'd noticed earlier bobbing above the crowd, and would gently try and steer the baron towards them. We passed a rather frazzled looking young man and a towering female Warforged, shaped to look like a nude statue, and I caught sight of a flash of red skin. I nodded towards it and tugged on the baron's arm, trying not to let him see how excited I was.

"If you wanted to talk to them, my dear, you could have just asked." He said. We brushed past another few couples, and there they were.

Yes; they. There was two of them. The long, spiraling horns belonged to a woman; while mine stick out sideways, her rose straight up from amidst her short, dark hair, and her brow was lined with a circle of small, bony nubs. If my horns were handlebars, hers were a crown, and I'm a little ashamed to admit that I felt a spark of jealousy at that. Horn envy is a thing, sadly. She was neat and prim, with paler skin than me, dressed in a tight black dress with a neckline that plunged all the way down to her navel, though curiously one that completely concealed her back. 

"Ah, Darrin!" She called out, extending a hand in greeting. "Wonderful to see you again. And -" She turned to me, but my eyes were already elsewhere. 

Her guest was a first-generation seducer-born. I suppose I should explain something here, though. Most people thing Tieflings come about when a demon and a human, or elf, or whatever, mate. It doesn't work like that - demons can't even get someone pregnant. But if you spend enough time around them, your soul becomes marked by the encounter, and you'll pass that mark down to your kids, if you have them. So if you, or your descendants, then knock up, or get knocked up, by someone else who also has a mark, then the child's a Tief, who has the mark automatically. Each type of demon marks you differently, and if two people with different marks have a kid, then the kid will have a range of features. Now, me? I'm a complete mutt. I *think* there's a bit of seducer in me, which is why my body can take particularly large insertions without being damaged. But this guy was the child of two people who got marked by succubi.

He was actually slightly uncanny; like he was too perfect, too attractive, but it didn't stop my body reacting as it did. A shock of white hair fell down around his shoulders, his skin was the vivid red of fresh blood, and his horns curled down around his ear, like a rams. His body was sculpted and masculine without being blocky and ugly, and his striking, noble face creased into a genuinely warm smile at the sight of me. A long, smooth tail that split into three points, like a flog, swept the floor behind him, and a heavy metal collar sat around his neck. From it, a long chain led to the other Tief's hand, and aside from a kilt of leather belts that just about covered the length of crimson meat swinging behind it, he was completely naked.

I meant to say something witty.

I meant to say something intelligent.

What I actually said, was something that sounded very much like "whargarble."

Thankfully, the baron and the other two Tieflings burst out laughing. Which didn't really help - his voice was like chocolate and honey, and I felt warmth flooding through my body just at the sound of it. 

"Yes, Marius has that effect on people." The other woman laughed. "Go on, darling. Make sure she's got it out of her system."

"Of course, love." He purred. He stepped forwards and, before I could say or do anything about it, swept me up into a crushing, full-body hug. He stank of sex and spice and incense, and I sagged into him, luxuriating in the radiant heat of his bare skin gliding over mine as he pressed me against his bare chest. One hand gently lifted my chin up and, for a heartbeat, our eyes met before we kissed. It was deep, passionate - he kissed me like a lover, and I felt his length twitch against my thigh as his other hand slithered down the length of my body. My own hands roamed over his torso, clutching him eagerly to me, digging my nails possessively into his back. Wet heat pounded up through my body, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to throw me to the ground and fuck me, hard, in front of everyone present.

And then it was over. He withdrew and stepped back to his mistress' side, leaving me panting, shaking, and very, very wet. They introduced themselves as Marius and Taelil Gherad, a married couple. Unusually, they had few connections to Swyndel's merchant families, but were heavily involved in what Taelil called 'pure politics'. Specifically, she was the leader of a growing anti-discrimination movement.

"Things in the city aren't as bad as they are out in the wilderness," she said. "But people like us -" she indicated Marius, herself and me "-still face prejudice every day. At best, we're stared at and fetishised, and struggle to get good jobs. At worst, there are still small radical groups that see us as evil or unholy. Proportionally, we're the species most likely to be murdered within the city limits."

She had a point, I supposed. Not everyone liked the attention being born with horns and a tail drew, and though I was lucky enough to find myself working two vocations that I was both good at and enjoyed, a lot of Tieflings were forced into taking jobs they didn't want, especially ones that no-one else was willing to do, that often amounted to little more than slavery. I found myself nodding along with her as she spoke, and she invited me to a political rally that was being held in a few weeks time. 

The conversation shifted to the other guests when a deep, bass roar cut through the quiet babble filling the air. Marius pointed out the black woman I'd seen in the corridors earlier, but this time, she was accompanied by some kind of Drake; the scaly thing in her arms, I assumed, but its size had been increased to the point where its head, bobbing atop a long, slender neck, stood about a foot above her own.

"Thaelia." The baron said. Taelil rolled her eyes and nodded wearily. "She always was a show-off." She added. "I'd like to know how she persuaded Kael'arathin to come down from his mountain, though."

"That's a dragon?" I spluttered. 

"Hmm? Oh, yes. He's claimed territory in the Broken Spine mountains." Taelil said. "Keeps himself to himself, mostly. One can only guess what she did to get him to come, as her guest, of all things."

"Well, perhaps she'll give us a demonstration later." Marius chuckled. Part of me wondered what he meant by that, but it was lost amidst the pleasant shivers his voice sent down my spine.

We spent a pleasant hour together, circling the room as a little group, conversing with other couples and picking at the tables of food that had been laid out. I was rather gratified to see that I wasn't the only one dumbstruck by Marius, and that he was attracting his share of wandering hands as well, from men and women alike. As the evening went on, they seemed to grow steadily more daring and eager; twice, I saw something moving under Marius' loincloth that could only have been a hand grasping his cock, and the fingers groping at my behind seemed to grow closer and closer to my slit as the time wound towards midnight. My bare skin, already glistening with the scented oils rubbed into it, now shone with a thin sheen of sweat, the constant stimulation had left me uncomfortably wet and aroused. Close to midnight, Cathwar and myself parted from the other two Tieflings and retired to the balcony, with a promise to meet up again before the end of the night.

We settled against the bannister with a glass of wine each, the baron's other arm wrapping around my waist so he could settle his hand on my backside. The night air was cool against my skin, and we passed a few minutes in relaxed silence, either staring out into the darkness or watching the other couples still circling within the hall or taking a similar breather outside with us. The baron had undone the top few buttons of his shirt, and I could see many of the couples still within were peeling off into small groups and similarly loosening their attire.

A smile played over my face as the baron shifted his grip on my ass, massaging the tight, red flesh as he played with the stem of his glass.

"This isn't just a party, is it?" I asked. Through the windows, I saw Thaelia and Kael'arathin walking past, followed by a gaggle of young women whispering and pointing at something large and pink swinging between the dragon's hind legs.

"Ah. Realization dawns." The baron replied. He drained his glass, raised it to me, and passed it off to one of the circling flunkies. "What tipped you off?"

"The groping was a pretty big hint." I said. "I think the only bits of me that haven't been touched so far tonight are the ones you paid for."

"I didn't hear you complaining. In fact, I distinctly remember you lifting your skirts up to give them better access." 

Through in the main hall, I watched as two young men disrobed themselves, baring their erections for the pleasure of the Kobold lady I'd met earlier. With no lips to suck with, she worked them with her tongue, wrapping it around their tools and sliding it up and down, her mouth hanging open as if eager for their seed. An older woman lay atop the bar, drizzling fine wine over her slit as her partner bent to drink it out of her. 

"Oh, really?" I replied, giving Cathwar a sly look. I turned and leaned out over the bannister, using my tail to swipe aside my rear loincloth. The breeze kissed my backside and the sensitive flesh of my pussy, wet and exposed for all to see. "Like this, you mean?"

Several of the other couples out on the balcony were watching us with interest. One man had even pulled his cock out and started stroking himself, despite the jealous look his guest shot him. I waggled my narrow hips from side to side.

"Better hurry, sir." I said. "Or I think the young gentleman over there's going to beat you to it."

"Don't rush me, girl, I'm old." He laughed, moving around behind me. I pushed my ass out a little more, then let out a long groan of release as the baron's tongue started exploring my wet folds. Having spent so much time being touched and teased by the wandering hands of the party, the feeling of someone else's tongue lapping away at my slit was divine. I ground my hips backwards as he made his way over my labia and down to my clit, teasing the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue before sliding back up. 

"Oh, shit." I gasped. The couple that had been watching me earlier were going at it now; I suppose the girl couldn't stand the idea that her partner was more interested in me than her. She had dropped to her knees and, but the thick sucking noises coming from her, I guessed she was doing her best to deepthroat him. I arched my tail higher as the baron made his way up past my tight pucker, moving relentlessly towards my tailspot even as he slid first one, then two fingers into my quivering heat, drawing a needy cry from my throat. His fingers worked in and out of my slit, the soft, wet noise being drowned out by the enthusiastic slurping coming from the other pair as I felt myself beginning to coast towards a long-overdue orgasm. Cathwar worked my tail with long, luxurious sweeps of his tongue, and once he'd found the patch of soft skin that set me wriggling and squealing with every touch, set to work lashing mercilessly back and forth across it. 

"I think you're getting close, my dear." He purred. I made a vague noise of assent, which steadily rose in pitch as he hooked his fingers into my g-spot, the sudden extra stimulation forcing a sudden shriek of release from me as I came. My tail twitched, dropping the length of silk it had been holding, which floated down to rest over the baron's head as I flopped forwards to catch my breath. Cathwar's hand wrapping around my horn and gently pulling me back up dragged me back to my senses. Time for the main event, then, I thought, my forked tongue flickering over my lips as the baron pulled his clothes off. I made no move to help him, but leaned back against the balcony, pushing my front loincloth aside and spreading my wet lips for him to see. 

"Have you decided how you want me, sir?" I purred, slinking forwards as he stripped off the last of his clothing. He was reasonably in shape for someone of his age, and I pressed my hands against his bare chest, letting him feel my claws just pricking his skin.

"On top." He replied, pushing closer to me, making the chains around my chest rattle. "I want you to be able to look at you."

Well, that suited me just fine. I moved my hands up to his shoulders and gently pushed, easing him down to the ground and sinking on top of him until my wet cunt rested against his groin. I could feel his cock settling between my buttocks and ground myself back and forth, rubbing my sensitive folds against his body and leaving a slick patch of my wetness to glisten in the starlight. Cathwar shifted between my thighs, trying to wriggle himself into a position where he could slip into me, but I shifted my grip back to his chest to keep him still. I might have been paid for, but the baron had given me control - most of my clients prefer topping, so I wasn't going to waste the chance to set the pace for once. The other couple were already going at it; the woman had been bent over the bannister, hanging on for dear life as her partner slammed his hips into her. He had a nice ass. I reached out and slapped it, laughing wickedly at his yelp of surprise.

"Fuck her harder, gorgeous." I called out, lifting myself up, brushing my silks out of the way and spreading my lips as the baron got his cock into position against my entrance. My pussy was already slick and ready for him, and his head slipped easily inside me. Placing my hands on his chest, I slowly lowered myself onto him, savoring every inch as it slipped inside my body. The baron sighed in satisfaction, his own hands reaching up to cup my breasts as we coupled. I felt his fingers sliding under the little metal caps that hid my nipples from view as I began to work him, first grinding my hips back and forth on his cock, then sliding up and down his length when I wanted to feel his penetration. Cathwar shifted and gasped beneath me, mauling my breasts as I worked him, wet strings of my arousal clinging to my thighs whenever I rocked my hips up the length of his shaft. Sweat beaded on my skin, hot in the cool night's air, and my own breathing grew deeper and heavier as I fucked him. He thrust upwards after me, but it seemed half-hearted; an old man's attempts at keeping up with someone far younger than him.

The couple off to my side cried out in unison, their voices merging together to cut through the night air. I could see her legs trembling and grinned; at least one of us was getting a good seeing to. To my surprise, though, her partner pulled out of her and offered himself to me, his tool still sticky with his seed and his partner's wetness.

"She doesn't like using her mouth." He shrugged. I licked my lips and looked up at him, the baron's cock still lodged in my heat. 

"Her loss." I said, sucking him into my mouth. The taste of his seed, mixed with the tang of his partner's own fluids washed over me as I cleaned his softening tool, even squeezing a small drop of fresh come from his wilting length before he pulled himself free. Beneath me, I heard Cathwar gasp and suddenly buck upwards, a rush of liquid warmth telling me that he'd came himself. He muttered an apology and flopped backwards, staring sullenly off into the sky. 

Well, I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't disappointed. He was far from the best partner I'd had, but the combination of his cock grinding back and forth and the way he'd worked my breasts had still rekindled my arousal; I was left tingling and needy, missing the feeling of his hardness working inside me. I slid off him, a trail of his seed clinging to the inside of my leg as his deflating length flopped against his body, and settled down next to him. 

"I wish I could say that's never happened before." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm getting too old for this. I don't suppose you finished, did you?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. I'm here for your pleasure, and you've got me for the whole night, remember?" My fingers wandered up his chest, trying to caress some life back into him. "We can go again in a bit if you want. Or we could go somewhere more private? Back to your room, maybe?" I kissed his cheek. Our coupling hadn't just left me physically frustrated, but I felt like I'd failed somehow - I'd gotten him off, but I hadn't satisfied him, and that irritated me. "We can spend the rest of the night together, if you want. Just, I don't know...experiment. Find out what works?"

"I'd love to. I really would. But..." Cathwar trailed off and shook his head. He looked old, then - older than he'd looked when I first met him, old and tired and frustrated that he couldn't do anything about it. Looking at him again, I felt, for a moment, the sudden urge to push him away. His age hadn't bothered me at first, but just for that one heartbeat, he struck me as singularly loathsome - like a specter of death, a reminder that one day I'd be just as broken and exhausted as him, forever chasing after the passion and energy of youth. It was just there for a second before fading, but perhaps he saw it, because he gave me a sad smile. "No, I think I'm done for now. Go and have some fun. I'll find you if I feel up to having another go."

He pulled away from me and began dressing himself, pulling his shirt back over his narrow shoulders. The other couple had sloped off back into the main room, either because they had finished their little escapade or because they wanted to give us some privacy. "Well...I mean, if you're sure..." I said.

"Really. I'll be fine." Cathwar said. He turned and patted me on the thigh. "Think of it as a chance to collect your perks."

I lingered for a few seconds longer, still feeling like I'd let him down, before quietly picking myself up and slipping back into the main hall. The air was intoxicating - thick with the smells of sweat, of sex, and of the perfumed incense the servants had brought out to try and mask the first two. They picked their way through the room, stepping daintily over the heaving, bucking bodies scattered over the floors and tables, setting up incense and putting out bowls of contraceptive Illithil leaves for the women. I plucked a few as I wandered back in, chewing on them and rearranging the chains and disks across my chest where the baron's hands had knocked them askew.

It was all a bit overwhelming. Now, I'm hardly little miss pure-and-innocent, but I'd never seen so many people having sex in the same place. It was so wanton, so utterly shameless - it looked like the guests hadn't just been chosen for their beauty or exoticism, but for their sexual appetite as well, and I wondered how many of them were there on another man or woman's coin like I was. A few people called out invitations as I passed them by, which I politely brushed off, and a few more reached out to me, which I reluctantly brushed past. Part of me - a very wet, stimulated part of me - just wanted to slide into the nearest pile of bodies and see where things went, but I pushed the urge down. Perks, the baron had said, and I got the feeling he hadn't just meant the chance to participate in an orgy. 

I began to circle the room, casting a predatory eye over the crowds. Anyone who already had a partner was immediately discounted, as were most of the people I remembered as having been introduced as guests, like myself. Someone powerful, someone who would want me enough that I could wring something out of them in exchange. Eventually, my eyes settled upon Brakkith. The Orc had flopped down in a large chair by the bar, one hand resting atop his prodigious belly, the other clutching a heavy flagon of ale. Certainly not my type - I prefer my men young, neat, and trim - but there was something appealing about the thick, broad bands of muscle I could see flexing under his grey-green skin. He had been brought by another guy, but by the way he'd looked at me earlier, I didn't think he was too fussy about little things like gender. And, I remembered, he certainly had connections that might be useful to me.

Orcs. Now, Orcs are funny. They only just joined society a century or so ago, and their culture was still defined by the two laws that had ruled them all throughout history; that the weak must be ruled by the strong, but that the strong have a duty to care for the weak. If I came on too hard, if I presented myself as an equal, I'd risk Brakkith seeing me as something to be knocked into submission. But if I let him think of me as a servant, as an underling, then he might see himself as duty-bound to provide for me.

Taking a moment to clean up the worst of the baron's load, I slunk towards the Orc. My tail lashed in time with my swaying hips, the movement of the silks and chains wrapping my body only adding to the effect. As I wound my way closer, I saw that his furry loincloth had been pulled aside, his half-hard cock flopping against his thigh and glistening with someone else's wetness. Still, it twitched as soon as he set eyes on me, and I had to fight to keep a sly grin crossing my face at that. 

"Huh. Ireela, was it?" The Orc grunted as I approached, raising his flagon in greeting. "Cathwar not missing you?"

"Oh, he's finished with me for the moment. He's given me leave to," I let my eyes obviously wander up and down Brakkith's body, over the swell of his gut, the hard bands of muscle and the thick piece of meat hanging between his legs. But I kept my hands clasped behind my back, and when our eyes met, I batted my eyelashes at him, like a little girl. "Enjoy myself." I finished. The Orc gave out a thick, rolling chuckle, full of guttural good humor.

"Hah. The old boy's struggling to keep up!" Brakkith patted his belly. "That's humans for you. I'm gettin' old and runnin' to fat, but I've still got more stamina than a dozen of you pinkskins put together."

I drifted forwards, letting my bare thigh brush up against the Orc's hairy leg, the barest touch of skin contact.

"Or..." He gave me another look, and I could see the hunger in his eyes. The urge to possess, to conquer; to make me his. Brakkith was one of the last of a dying breed. More and more Orcs were being born 'soft'; modern, urbanized, wanting families and careers rather than a life spent fighting and raiding. I shifted my shoulders, rolling them back to push my chest out, making the delicate golden chains rattle. "Or, redskins, or pretty elven paleskins, or whatever. You're all weak." There was no real malice in his words; to him, it was a description, not an insult. "Good people, though."

I was about to open my mouth when Brakkith spoke again.

"Ireela," he said. "You're staring at my cock."

Damn. Was I? I supposed I must have been. I had hoped to let things burn a little slower and let him make the first move. I floundered for a moment, then did my best to recover the situation. Reaching out, I wrapped my slender fingers around his thick, blunt head, gently tickling the underside of the fleshy bulb.

"It's a very nice cock." I whispered, looking coyly up at him. I could feel strings of precome already gathering between my fingers. While the rumor that all Orcs have huge cocks isn't entirely true, they are known - among those of us who need to know these things - for their heavy ejaculations. When they come, they come a lot, and by the size of the balls I saw hanging between Brakkith's legs, he was going to have quite the load for me. My mouth watered at the thought.

Brakkith grunted another laugh and leaned back, spreading his legs a little. "And you've got a very pretty mouth. Maybe the two of 'em should get acquainted?"

My forked tongue flickered over my lips. Gods, I wanted him. Still hot and aroused from Cathwar, I just wanted the big Orc to shove me forwards, to drive himself into me. I could imagine how it would feel - overpowering, overwhelming, using his bulk and strength to crush me between the floor and the thick, soft embrace of his body. I felt my knees go weak and a thin, needy whine slip out of my mouth, but I held myself in check. Instead, I pushed forwards, sliding my hand, slick with his pre, down his length and then back up again.

"Maybe." I crooned, running my other hand through the thick, curly hair across his belly. "Or maybe not. There's plenty of other men in here who'd say the same." I batted my eyelashes at him. "What do you have for me that they don't?"

Well, a load big enough to feed a family, for one thing. Brakkith groaned under my caresses, and I felt another pulse of precome oozing out against my wrist. 

"You've got some nerve, girl." He said. "From the way you were starin', you should be payin' me, not the other way around." My fingers slid back up his shaft, tips softly tracing circles around the base of the head.

"Oh, I don't want money." I replied. Which was a lie. But he represented something far more valuable. "I just want a promise. That if you've got some extra work going, if you ever need an extra pair of hands...you'll come to me first. That's all."

"We talkin' merc work, or..." Another low grunt slipped from the Orc's throat. "...or this sort of work?"

I gave him a wide smile, then sunk to my knees before him, leaning against his thick, elephantine leg and wrapping my tail around myself. His cock bobbed level with my face, thick, slick with precome and oh, so very hard. And there, just before I leaned forwards to suck him into my mouth, I called up - softly, just loud enough that he could hear over the background of moaning and slapping flesh, one word. "Yes."

He was big. Not as big as Moundar, the huge Dragonborn I'd once had, but big enough that my jaw twinged in pain as I took him into my mouth. I had to work to stop my teeth from digging into his sensitive flesh, but the thick layer of precome already smeared over his cock helped as I eased it into my mouth. He tasted bitter, and as I slowly sucked him down towards the base of his shaft, his thick, musky scent filled my nose. I made it halfway down, working the length with my tongue all the way, before I had to pull back to breath. Now wet with my saliva and his precome, Brakkith's cock slipped free of my mouth, leaving me panting. 

"Too much for you, girl?" The Orc laughed. I couldn't actually see his face from where I was sitting; the curve of his belly blocked him from view. There was just me, alone in the prison formed by his gut and his legs, alone with his cock. I dived back in without reply, licking and kissing my way down, making sure he was as wet as possible before my next attempt. Holding the base of his cock in one hand, I cradled his balls with the other, rolling them back and forth and teasing my fingers through the thick curls of hair.

Brakkith let out a heavy sigh as I swallowed him again. "Ah, that's it. There we go..." he muttered, as much to himself as to me as my head bobbed up and down on the thick, hot length of meat. Occasionally his balls would contract and I'd feel a thick slug of precome flowing into my mouth, easily the volume of a human's full load. Each time, I thought he'd come for good, and each time, I found myself getting wetter with anticipation. Something about a man's seed had become a huge turn-on for me. It felt like a reward - a physical sign of his satisfaction and the pleasure I'd give him. Seeing that white, pearly sheen over my tits at the end of a session had become almost as satisfying as the sex beforehand, while the feeling of a guy depositing a couple of measly drops on my back didn't exactly endear me to servicing him again.

"I miss this. Bein' serviced by an eager young whore." Brakkith's voice echoed down. "Back when Orcs were Orcs, and no-one would begrudge a chief his harem. You'd fit right in, with that outfit." He sighed, no doubt imagining conquests - sexual and otherwise - long past. I didn't begrudge him his fantasy. Maybe it was just the hot ache of arousal that had been left burning in me ever since the Baron had his way with me doing things to my head, but there was something strangely appealing about it. I knew, of course, that slavery was slavery, even if it was comfortable, decadent slavery, but...I glanced down, looking over the length of my body; the smooth, crimson skin, shining with sweat and perfumed oils, chased with gold and silk, and now spattered with the drips of Brakkith's pre that had escaped my hungry mouth. It was only right that people should see it as a thing to be possessed.

His balls twitched, though this time, there was no rush of fluid in my mouth. They jerked again and I redoubled my efforts, sucking eagerly at him as he reached his peak. I'd had Orcs before, and knew what to expect. It just remained to be seen how Brakkith would want me to handle his load.

"Gonna come soon." He grunted. "You keep it all in your mouth, y'hear? Don't spit it, don't swallow it. Just hold it there." Unable to speak around the thick, pulsing length of green meat crammed between my lips, I made a noise to show I'd heard and understood, frantically swallowing the pre that was already in my mouth.

It was a good thing I had, too. Brakkith gave one last, heavy sigh and came, flooding my mouth with his thick, pungent seed. I tipped my head back and tried to close off my throat as best I could as his hot come poured forth, slapping against the room of my mouth and flowing into every little space not taken up by his cock. I drew back his length, inch by inch, freeing up more space as another jet of the slimy fluid slapped against the roof of my mouth. And so it went, Brakkith filling my mouth with seed even as I emptied it of cock, until the blunt head popped free of my mouth. I quickly pursed my lips, holding his load in my mouth. Brakkith reached down, grabbing one of my horns and pulling me upright. He stood as well, tipping my head back and taking hold of my chin.

"Open." He grunted, gently pulling my chin down. I let my jaw fall open, letting him see the lake of come he'd dumped into my mouth. I could feel it swirling around, thick and glutinous, as I lashed my tongue back and forth for him. Brakkith made an amused noise, then pushed my mouth closed again.

"Swallow." He said. I braced myself, tipped my head as far back as it could go, and - 

There was a thick, loud gulp. I leaned forwards again and opened my mouth, showing the Orc how every drop - with the exception of some pearly strings clinging to my lips - had gone. I could feel the liquid warmth of it sliding down into my belly, leaving nothing but the aftertaste. Which, to be honest, was pretty foul.

"Thank you, sir." I pouted, pushing myself against him, crushing my breasts against his hairy, muscular chest. "May I have another?"

Oh, he liked that. His eyes lit up, and for one moment, I actually thought he was going to conjure up another erection, flop back down in his chair and sit me atop it.

"I'm impressed. Last girl who tried that choked gettin' it down." Brakkith said, patting my cheek affectionately. "Tell you what. Give me an address and I'll have some work sent your way. Somethin's been goin' after Clan Krath's livestock and they can't spare the manpower to check it out. Probably just a bear or somethin', but it don't hurt to be careful. Y'think you can handle that?"

I clicked my fingers at a servant and motioned for him to bring me a drink to wash away the lingering flavor of Brakkith's seed. "Sure." I said, the coy little-girl voice I'd used earlier vanishing in a heartbeat as the discussion turned towards business. While I'd certainly enjoyed going down on the big Orc, it had largely just been a means to an end, and I was eager to get to the meat - no pun intended - of things. "My partner and I - no, not that sort of partner -" I cut in as the Orc raised an eyebrow - "we deal with stuff like that all the time. There's no chance you've got anything a bit more serious?"

"Huh. More cheek." Brakkith said, but it came with another rumbling chuckle. "I might, but I ain't handin' it out until I know you're reliable. Consider that -" he pointed down to his flaccid cock - "yer audition, and this is'll be yer trial run."

Hunting down rabid animals wasn't exactly what I'd hoped the Orc would have for me, but I supposed he did have a point, and there was always the chance it would turn out to be something a bit more interesting. We made small talk for a little longer, then toasted our new business arrangement - Brakkith's heavy flagon almost bludgeoning the delicate, fluted wine glass out of my hand - and broke up, the Orc wandering off to look for his patron. As soon as his back was turned, I stuck my tongue out and chugged the rest of my drink in a most unladylike fashion, doing my best to drown his lingering aftertaste. 

"Too much red meat, Brak." I muttered to myself, wiping my lips. And then, after a moment's consideration, I collected a few napkins to wipe my legs and other lips. The burning, pounding heat between my thighs was almost unbearable, and even the touch of the soft cloth against my sticky nethers was enough to draw a throaty gasp from my throat. I screwed the damp napkin up and threw it aside. Something about the idea of getting myself off, alone, in the middle of an orgy seemed almost offensive, no matter how over-stimulated I was. 

I went back to circling, searching the crowd for a suitable partner. Here and there, hands would reach up, clutching and caressing me as I slid past, enticing me into joining them. I fed a young man grapes, plucked one by one from the vine, as a brother and sister took turns riding his cock. I knelt behind a woman as she went down on a guy for the first time, my breasts crushed against her back as I whispered instructions into her ear and dipped my fingers into her cunt. I watched as Thaelia straddled the Dragon Kael'arathin's hulking cock like a horse and rode up and down the weirdly curved length, the fleshy thorns plucking at her clit with each passage of her ebony thighs, until the Dragon let out a bellow that silenced the hall and ejaculated enough steaming fluid to cover the three women who had been writhing in his shadow and begging for the great drake's benediction. I passed all these things and more, each time painfully tempted to join in, but each time snatched away by some new sight. Now and then, I even saw the Baron across the hall - we made eye contact, and we waved to each other, but he made no move to come over to me. 

As I wandered, I noticed that a small group of men had begun to fall into step behind me. Not obtrusively close, but it was obvious they were unwilling to let me out of their sight. I made it a game; slipping through the crowds, disappearing into a pack of standing bodies, but letting my tail slither teasingly in my wake, seeing if they could keep up. They could have had almost any woman in the hall, yet the stuck to me, their eyes eager whenever I deigned to look back at them. In retrospect, it really shouldn't have taken me so long to realize why they were so determined to have me; what was the one thing I had, that only one other woman present shared? 

Species. Taelil was one of the few people who seemed reluctant to participate in the night's festivities. She certainly wasn't ashamed or offended, but she did little more than watch as Marius had his way with whichever lucky man or woman fell under his shadow. It wasn't hard to spot her - her skin wasn't as bright as mine, but her tall, slender horns were easily noticed - and while several men and women propositioned her, she always politely turned them away. That made me the only accessible Tiefling in the room, and as I'd learned at the Second Circle, that sort of rarity is a draw in of itself for many men. It would have been so easy to slow my pace so they could catch me, and sink back into their waiting arms, but I resisted. Just for a little longer, I told myself. I wanted them, but I could get what I wanted from any other man in the hall. They, on the other hand...

They wanted me. Me, above all others. A piece of nothing from some farming village most of them had never visited. Because I was young, pretty, and exotic. I chewed at my lip, suppressing the urge to grin madly, as I made my way over to one of the tables. Acquiring a stylus and a bit of paper from a rather confused servant, I made my way over the one of the tables, the little group of men still tailing me. I had power over them - just like I had power over my clients at the Circle. The power to name my price, to dangle myself in front of them like a living trophy auctioned to the highest bidder, like a goddess demanding a tithe from her followers. They watched as I upended a bowl of fruit, set the empty piece of silverware down by the end of the table, then scrawled "6g" on the paper and set it up next to the bowl. Just like the fantasy I'd had earlier in the corridors.

Then, I spread my legs, bent over, gripped the far end of the table in my hands, and waited. The thought occurred as the first few seconds ticked slowly by. If nothing happened, if they decided I wasn't worth all that after all, I was going to be left looking very, very stupid. And true enough, there were a few angry mutters from behind me, and the sound of a pair or two of footsteps retreating in another direction. My heart fluttered anxiously against my breastbone, and when the first clatter of gold landing in the bowl echoed from behind me, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

I felt a pair of hands on my ass. Not grabbing or squeezing; just resting on the swell of my buttocks. At length, they traveled upwards, sliding across the gold band surrounding my hips and up the length of my torso, following the curve of my chest until they slipped beneath the delicate chains around my chest and cradled my small breasts. Then they squeezed, gently, as if testing the quality of the flesh that had just been bought.

"Is everything to your liking, sire?" I whispered, my voice hoarse and throaty with lust. I could feel something hot and hard bumping against my thighs.

"Oh, yes. I do think so." Came the return voice. It was high for a man, a little nasal. I didn't care. I had his money, and I was - hopefully - going to get fucked by him in a second. At that moment, that was all I cared about.

The hands vanished, to be replaced with the silken sensation of my loincloth being pulled out of the way. There as a quiet chorus of murmurs from behind me, mostly to the tune of how wet and ready I was, along with a few far less tasteful comments. The first man didn't bother working me with his tongue or fingers - he pulled my hips down a little, into a position he found more comfortable, and slid straight in.

The feeling was divine. After spending so long feeling the hollow ache of my need, the sensation of my nameless, faceless client sliding into me at long last was enough to drive me into a small, sharp orgasm. I gasped and shuddered, clenching up for a moment, riding out the waves until I was left with the solid, comfortable feeling of fullness that a good penetration provides. 

"I think she likes it." Some witless individual behind me sniggered.

"Of- oh, uh," I started, cut off as the first man began to fuck me with quick, shallow strokes, reducing what I'd hoped to be a sharp bit of snark to a stammering, breathy pant. "-course I like it. I wouldn't, ah, be doing this if, if I didn't."

The first man's pace increased, his cock pistoning in and out of me with little regard given to my own satisfaction, until I felt him pull out of me and spray his warm seed up my back. I cleared my throat as he stepped away and, in a clear voice, called out "next!"

Another clatter of gold. Another pair of hands on my body. Another heartbeat of breathless anticipation as the second man eases himself into me. He's bigger than the third and I spread my legs a little wider as his cock slots home, my body eating him up, inch by inch, until I feel his skin flush against my backside. My tail snaked up his body, wrapping around his torso and pulling him in even tighter, locking us together, drawing out those first, wonderful moments of union for as long as possible. 

This one fucks me hard and deep. He grabs one of my horns in one hand, a fistful of hair in the other, and pulls me up - I relinquish my grip on the table, arching my back as he hauls me upwards. His head appears over my shoulder - heavily set, ruddy from drink, with a thick, black beard - and he twists me towards him, forcing his tongue into my mouth in a fierce kiss even as he slaps wetly against me below, each impact shooting delightful sparks through my body even as he pulls at my hair. Then, as roughly as he pulled me up, he pushes me back down, forcing my head against the table as he relentlessly hammers away at my body. The coins in the bowl behind me jingle in time with his thrusts until he pulls and twists at my hair, the combination of sudden pain and the pleasure he's giving me driving me into another shaking, gasping orgasm even as he empties himself into my body. 

I feel a third pair of hands on me almost as soon as the second has pulled himself out of me. Pushing myself back up into position, I growl and swat him away with a powerful blow from my tail, drawing laughter from the group behind me.

"Come on, Tarkii, pay the lady!" Someone calls, followed by a riot of hoots and jeers and a pair of retreating footsteps that, I assume, are the cheapskate making a swift exit.

And so it went. It became a rhythm; the clatter of money entering the bowl, the feeling of my body being explored by hands and, when I was lucky, tongues, the experience of being fucked, and the final rush of heat in me or on me as they ejaculated. The Baron visited me at least once, paying his dues just like the others, then sitting back with a drink to watch with an expression of satisfaction on his old face. Sometimes I'd come, sometimes I wouldn't; as time went on, I drifted into a dreamy haze, the afterglow of one orgasm coasting into the peaks and waves of another, kept alive by the touching, licking, kissing and thrusting of each partner as they came and went. At one point, someone asked how much my mouth cost; I named a number, I can't remember what, and began to suckle on the cock that was presented to me as soon as I heard the rattle of money. I couldn't help but remember, even through the pink clouds of indulgence seeping through my mind, how I'd felt after donning the Baron's outfit for the first time; beautiful and desirable, something to be wanted, coveted, lusted after and fought over. Just as the layers of gold and silk stripped away layers of clothing and idealized what remained, they seemed to strip away elements of my personality, rendering me down to the basest and most animalistic of levels - greedy, lustful, even manipulative - but transformed and elevated them into something with a sort of single-minded purity that part of me, looking on through the bliss, found deeply unsettling. But soon enough, even that part of me was subsumed, or fell silent, lost amidst the pounding of flesh.

"Look at her. Beautiful, isn't she?"

I blinked and groaned, dragged back to reality as a new voice cut through the haze. I found myself lying atop the table on my back, my tail squashed uncomfortably beneath me. I groaned and sat upright, dislodging a large piece of Lylith fruit that someone had stabbed onto my horn, presumably so they could eat it while fucking me, leaving a trail of sweet, blue juice to trickle down my forehead. My skin was streaked with sweat and come, my hair hanging in lank, tangled knots, and my legs wobbled drunkenly as I hopped off the table and tried to balance. For the first time that night, I regretted something about the way my outfit had been designed; weak and tired as I was, my attempt at balancing on the high heels worked into my footwear resulted in me being pitched, rather inelegantly, onto my ass.

A pair of large, strong hands gently gripped me under my arms and pulled me back to my feet. I turned, my mind still reeling from what had happened, and found myself staring into Marius' warm, handsome face. Even after what I'd just been through, the sight of him still elicited a reaction from me, though the little flare of arousal was lost amidst the numb ache coming from my lower quarters. It almost felt like I'd gone another round with the Dragonborn. 

The hall was emptying now. People were dressing themselves as best they could and finding their original partners, slipping off in pairs or little groups as, through the great windows at the far end of the hall, the first rays of sunlight began to creep over the horizon. I yawned and rubbed at my eyes.

"What happened?" I muttered, though by the state I was in, I could make a damn good guess. I plucked at my outfit as I waited for the other Tiefling's reply, pulling the nipple caps back into place and rearranging the silken loincloths.

"You got a little carried away, I fear." Taelil said. She stood a little behind her partner. While Marius seemed almost amused, Taelil's face was set in a small frown. She brushed past Marius and began circling around me, as if looking for any signs of injury. "Too much to drink, probably. You had an awful lot of the wine, and it's stronger than you'd think."

"Hush, love." Marius rumbled, stroking my cheek. "Her seducer aspect came fully to the fore, that's all. It's nothing to be ashamed of." His last comment was aimed at me. "Like I said; you were beautiful. You took everyone who came to you, man and woman, without fear or complaint, until consciousness fled. We felt it best to let you sleep."

I didn't feel beautiful, and to my surprise, I actually did feel a little ashamed at having lost control of the situation so badly. It might seem like an odd thing, considering my line of work, but when I sleep with a client, I pride myself on trying to make the encounter at least somewhat intimate. A personal touch, if you like. The sort of faceless, anonymous fucking I'd put myself through not a few hours ago felt cheap and nasty by comparison. I drifted out of Marius' gentle grasp, stepping towards the bowl I'd set up to collect payment with a growing feeling of dread. And there it was; full almost to the brim, the coins glittering softly in the ruddy light of dawn.

One of the men had blown his load across them. I don't know why, but something about the sight of that upset me. I tore my eyes away, lingering on the edge of tears.

Too far. I'd let things go too far. I licked my lips and instantly regretted it, tasting the seed that had dried there. I felt used, almost, even though I knew that there was no-one to blame for what had happened but myself.

"What - what happened to the Baron?" I mumbled, looking around the hall. "Where's Cathwar?"

"Gone." Taelil replied. "He needed to sleep after the night's festivities, but he told me that he was more than satisfied with your performance, and that the clothes were yours to keep. Though," she looked at me, her lips pursed, as if she could read my thoughts. "Perhaps right now, you'd prefer something that covers a little more?"

I nodded dumbly and let the other two Tieflings lead me away. Though, I will admit, not before I collected the bowl full of money. Coin is coin, and even in my rattled state of mind, I wasn't going to let it go to waste.

The pair of them took me back to the dressing room I'd shared with Caelia the day before. There, they washed me and dried me, wiping away the stains of the previous night with expensive soaps and soft, fresh towels, then helped me dress. My clothes, it turned out, had been similarly cleaned, and the familiar feeling of the black dress on my skin helped a bit of the life back into me. Yes, I'd made a mistake. Yes, I'd gone too far, and yes, I was probably going to feel like shit for a while as a result. But that was fine - I mean, I was nineteen, and I defy you to find anyone who hasn't done something they regret at that age. It wasn't like it was the end of the world. I'd take a bit of a break from working the Second Circle, and with the money I'd made tonight I could easily afford it, and ease myself back in once I was feeling up to it. 

Once I was ready, and the gold-and-silk outfit had been boxed up and presented to me, Taelil and Marius walked me back through the twining corridors of the Spire, until we emerged through the main gate. Taelil helped me up into a waiting carriage, but as she did so, I felt the other Tiefling pushing a bit of paper into my hand. She gave me a knowing look and a strangle half-smile, but before I could open my mouth, the carriage lurched forwards and rattled off down the street. With a heavy sigh, I sank back into the thick upholstery and unwrapped the note. On it, was a single line, and an address.

Ireela. I may have some work for you re. my political interests. Come to my tower when you're ready. T.

Two job offers in one day, one of them from a well-connected, respected member of high society? I felt the return of a brief flicker of pride at the thought. Regardless of how I'd gotten there, at that moment, the future seemed pretty good.