Lyr wiped his sweaty brow as the humid air pressed in on him. He had known they were headed into the jungle, but he had underestimated just how much hotter it would feel down here. Earlier, he had picked up a fallen leaf, long and broad and as big as his head, from one of the exotic species of tree that had started appearing alongside the path when the weather had started changing in earnest. Now he fanned himself with it, panting theatrically.
Renikk shot him a good-natured scowl. "Don't start complaining," she warned him. "At least you don't have fur." The muscular feline warrior's tail twitched irritably.
"Scales aren't much better," pointed out Ialantra, the tall draconid. "You can sweat. We can't. And my magic means I always feel fire under my skin. It's convenient in cold climates. Not so much here." Ialantra was a wielder of fire magic, although in this humidity, Lyr wouldn't have been surprised if the dampness of the air would put out any fire she tried to set.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" asked Valencia with a roll of her eyes. She followed it up with a grin—she, at least, seemed to be having a good time, heat or no heat. "Think of all the new things we'll see! I'd say this will be material for, oh, at least half a dozen new songs."
"And I'm sure we'll get to hear them all," said Astrid. Lyr could tell her exasperation was mostly for show—Valencia really was a good musician, and her music had livened up many a tedious journey.
"I know one way you ladies could deal with the heat," Lyr said, waggling his eyebrows at Astrid. "Aren't you at all tempted to get out of that hot, sweaty armor?"
"Keep dreaming," said Astrid, raising her hand to swat him.
He ducked out of the way just in time, and found himself standing beside Rehemah, their newest traveling companion. "How about you?" he asked her. "How do you stand it with all that fur?"
Rehemah belonged to the reclusive tigrin race. Lyr had never so much as seen one of them before they had taken on this job, and he was pretty sure none of the others had, either. They almost never left their jungles. Rehemah was, in fact, the reason they were traveling this way in the first place. The niece of their Great Lady, which seemed to be something equivalent to a queen, she had been kidnapped and held for ransom, and thankfully rescued by the local lord's soldiers. The lord, hoping to avoid a diplomatic incident, had hired Lyr's team to bring her back home.
She was like nothing Lyr had ever seen before. For one thing, there was the sheer size of her. Lyr had thought he knew tall—aside from Valencia, all the women he traveled with were taller than he was, and Renikk and Ialantra in particular both towered above him. But Rehemah made the even two of them look downright petite. Lyr's head didn't come any higher than her breasts, which made it difficult not to look as if he was staring at exactly the wrong place when they were having a conversation.
Her entire body was covered in a coat of long, fluffy fur, patterned in eye-catching orange-and-black stripes. Her eyes were a piercing yellow-green. Her face was sharp and angular, which should have made her look frighteningly fierce but came across as elegant instead. She was broad enough and strong enough that she could have crushed him in her arms if she had wanted to and made him disappear without a trace in that fur of hers, but her movements were slow and liquid, turning every ordinary gesture into something that almost looked like a dance. She had the curves of a statue come to life, and fangs that could have ripped out someone's throat if she had seemed at all inclined to violence.
Until he had laid eyes on Rehemah, he had thought Renikk's muscular feline body was the most imposing it was possible for a feline to be. Next to Rehemah, though, Renikk resembled a kitten with a temper—not that he would ever have said that to her, of course. He couldn't help but compare her effortless strength to Renikk's loud and sweaty training, and Renikk's showy ferocity to Rehemah's quiet elegance that nonetheless showed off a deadly power.
But despite her physical capabilities, Rehemah seemed to be a gentle creature. He had taken her for something of a snob at first, before realizing that she was not only naturally shy but woefully out of her element. She offered him a slight smile now as she looked down at him to answer his question.
"The fur actually helps cool us off," she said. "If you look closely, the strands are hollow—you see?" She held out her striped arm to him. "This makes it light enough to catch the breeze and direct it down to our skin. Like having a fan like yours built into our bodies. Or many fans." She nodded down at the leaf he held. "And of course, we dress for the weather."
Her clothing was made of some wispy, silky material, maddening to Lyr because it was just thin enough that it looked like it should be sheer, but wasn't. She wore a light wrap around her breasts, leaving the furred skin of her abdomen exposed, and a long wrap skirt that moved with every breeze. Every inch of the fabric had intricate designs dyed into it, patterns made up of symbols that no doubt had deep significance to the tigrin.
"I'm sure your people are more used to this weather than we are," said Lyr. "I'm looking forward to seeing where you come from."
"I'm more curious about all of you," she said, studying him carefully with those piercing eyes. "Everyone in my land is like me. But you are all so different! And you're adventurers, I understand. Warriors. I would like to hear more about your adventures, and all the places you've seen."
"Well," said Lyr, puffing up his chest, "there was that werebear we fought a few weeks back." He relished the sight of Rehemah's eyes widening. "That thing was taller than you, and by a lot—when it was transformed, at least. And a whole mouth of nasty-looking teeth, too. And that's not even getting into its breath, which was a weapon all by itself." He waved his hand in front of his face, grimacing. "It was coming out of hibernation, and it was hungry. It would have had us all for dinner if I hadn't healed up the bites it took out of the others without it noticing, so they could play dead long enough for it to get close and…"
As he told the story, he saw Astrid smirking at him out of the corner of his eye. But all he cared about was Rehemah's reaction—she looked suitably impressed by his tale of heroism. After he ended the story with a recounting of the treasure the werebear had stored away while in its human form, Rehemah turned her curiosity on Renikk, asking about the race of feline people she came from and whether there was a chance they shared a distant ancestor.
Astrid sidled up beside him. "I see you couldn't resist the chance to make yourself the hero of that story," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I notice you left out the part where you ran away screaming at the first sight of the bear, and did all your healing from behind that big rock."
"I didn't hear you complaining when I fixed up what its claws did to your leg," Lyr fired back. He kept his voice light, but gritted his teeth—did she really have to pick at him for everything? Was it impossible for her to pass by an opportunity to knock him down? Of course, it might not have bothered him so much if it hadn't been true—he had hidden from the hulking, smelly beast, and he had intentionally left that part out of his story.
"You're just looking for a chance to impress the tiger lady there," said Astrid, with a nod toward Rehemah. "It would be adorable if it weren't so pathetic. You don't really think you have a chance with her, do you?"
"I'm just trying to keep our guest entertained, that's all."
"Oh, don't bother denying it. I've seen the way you've been looking at her all this time. You might want to try tucking your tongue back into your mouth and shoving your eyes back into their sockets when you look at her." She shook her head at him slowly, a pitying smirk on her face. "You might as well give it up now, before she has to find a way to let you down gently."
Normally Astrid's teasing didn't get under his skin. But today her comments seemed harsher than usual. It was one thing for him to tease him about having no chance with her, but did he really think it was so impossible that any other woman might be interested? Teasing or not, it was actually kind of insulting how she assumed no one could possibly look at him that way.
But that was all right—he knew just how to make himself feel better. He slid his hand into his pocket and found the hidden pocketwatch there. He pressed the button on top and felt the air change, growing heavy in a way that went beyond the oppressive humidity, as if a sudden storm were rolling in despite the clear skies. Astrid opened her mouth to say something else—
And froze. So did everyone else. Renikk's hand was raised in the middle of a gesture. Rehemah had one foot off the ground. Valencia had been reaching behind her for her lute, and now her arm was caught in a bizarre and uncomfortable-looking contortion.
"What were you going to say to me, I wonder?" Lyr mused, tugging at one of Astrid's lips. "What are you looking so amused about? Is the thought of a woman being interested in me that funny to you?" He poked her in one of her gleaming eyes, then the other for good measure.
"Maybe," he said, "you wouldn't find it so funny if you knew what you were missing out on." He grinned. "Of course, you're not missing out on me at all—we've had lots of fun together, haven't we? You just don't know it." He smacked her hard on the ass, and admired the indentation his hand made in the firm flesh.
He stood back and stared into her face. She was still looking at him like he was the butt of a joke—which, to her, he was. "As fun as it is to spar with you," he said, "sometimes I just want to smack that smug look off your face."
He drew his hand back and slapped her hard in the cheek. Her flesh rippled under his hand, her cheek remaining pressed inward even when he drew his hand back. She wobbled on her feet, then slowly toppled over before falling hard onto her side, still wearing the same smug expression.
He straddled her and drove his fist into her belly, just to make her breath huff out through her open lips. "That's a lot more fun than listening to another insult," he said. "Now how about stopping up that smart mouth of yours?" He grabbed another of those big leaves off the ground, balled it up, and stuffed it between her lips. Green peeked out behind her smile, making her look like she was snacking on the local vegetation and having a great time of it.
He left her where she was and approached Rehemah, who was looking at Renikk intently, clearly fascinated by whatever the warrior had been saying. "Hey again," he said, running his hand along the fluffy fur of her arm. It was just as soft as he remembered. He smiled, nuzzling his face into the tickly fuzz.
Little did Astrid know, but he had actually gotten up close and personal with Rehemah several times now, although of course Rehemah was as oblivious as Astrid. He was hardly going to let the opportunity to play with such an exotic new toy pass him by. He strained on his tiptoes to reach her rounded ears, and ran his hands along the thick tufts of fur at their base. He brought his hands down to her tail, running it slowly through his hands, as he looked up at her fierce fangs and imagined what she might do to him if she knew the liberties he was taking with her. Although given her temperament, she was more likely to hide from him in utter mortification than rip out his throat. But then, it was a moot point, because why would she ever have to know?
"I love those fierce eyes of yours," he told her. "They make me feel like you're staring into my soul. I've never seen eyes that color before." He reached up to press a finger into one of her mesmerizing tiger eyes, feeling the eyeball bounce slightly under his finger. Her expression remained obliviously intent, as if she were utterly fascinated by what he was saying.
"I guess I should let us get a move on," he said. "I don't want to spend too much time out in this heat, after all. But don't worry—I'll be back for more fun later." He strained upward to brush his lips against hers, then returned to where he had been standing before reaching into his pocket and pressing the button on top of the pocketwatch again.
Astrid gave a muffled yelp as time started up again. She yanked the saliva-covered leaf from her mouth and tossed it to the ground, making a face. He held out a hand to her, which she ignored as she pushed herself back to her feet.
"Are you okay?" Lyr asked with a concerned expression. "What happened?"
Rehemah looked over her shoulder, her brow creased with worry. "I hope you're not badly injured. Were you bitten? There are some vicious snakes around here."
Astrid scowled and brushed herself off, her pride clearly more wounded than anything else—although her wince as she took a step forward showed that she hadn't exactly escaped unscathed physically. "Nothing bit me. I must have tripped over something, that's all. And gotten a leaf in my mouth when I fell. Although how thathappened, I have no idea." She spat on the ground. "Ugh, that tasted foul."
"You should watch where you're going," Lyr advised her. Then he frowned. "Actually, I guess we all should. Why didn't you mention the snakes before?" He slipped his hand into his pocket, resolving to keep it there in case he needed an emergency escape from any dangerous wildlife.
Rehemah watched Astrid with concern for another moment before turning to Ialantra. "And how about you?" she asked. "Tell me about your people. Draconid, you said? Where are they originally from?"
Lyr let the conversation drift over him, devoting most of his attention to admiring the sights—the exotic new terrain, Rehemah's shapely striped legs peeking out from under her skirt as she walked, and of course, the winces of pain Astrid kept trying to hide.
As they moved deeper into the jungle, the trees grew closer, shielding them from the sun but doing nothing to protect against the humidity. He sometimes thought he caught a glimpse of sharp yellow-green eyes watching from amid the trees, although they always disappeared before he could get a closer look. When Valencia took out her lute and began to play a familiar drinking song for the fascinated Rehemah, who had never heard it before, he let his strides match the pace of the rhythm, enjoying the music and the cool breeze as the sun began to set.
He groaned, stretching his arms. He was starting to feel achy from the long day of travel. And now that the weather was cooling down for the night, maybe it was time to take a little break. His hand was still wrapped around the pocketwatch, thanks to Rehemah's offhanded mention of biting snakes. As Rehemah leaned in toward Valencia, entranced by her music, Lyr pressed the button again.
He thought briefly about venturing into the jungle to find one of the watching tigrin, but it was dark enough already that he didn't relish the thought of finding his way through the thick trees. Besides, he was tired, and in the mood for some easy fun. Thankfully, he had plenty of that right where he was.
He walked over to Renikk first, who was standing at her full height as if trying to make herself appear taller. "Feeling a little insecure, are you?" he asked, looking between her and Rehemah. If she was, it was no wonder—the thought came to him once again that next to Rehemah, she was like an adorable little kitten playing at ferocity. In fact, that would be an interesting sight to see, wouldn't it?
He picked her up, grunting at the weight of her, and set her down on her back. He brought her arms and legs up, like she was pushing something away from her, then picked up a length of dead vine that had fallen from a tree and draped it over her outstretched hands. She looked like nothing more than a kitten playing with a ball of yarn.
"Good kitty," he said, stroking her ears, before moving on to Ialantra. Ialantra was looking off into the trees, her expression guarded, like she was watching for threats. "You look like you need to have some fun," she said, and pulled the draconid woman down onto her back next to Renikk.
Next he picked up Valencia, whose mouth was open and eyes half-closed as she lost herself in her music. Unlike the others, the petite bard was easy to lift. He bent her legs so she was kneeling over Ialantra's face, and pried open Ialantra's mouth to extend her tongue. He pulled up Valencia's skirts and lowered her even further until Ialantra's tongue was brushing her pussy lips.
He stood back and admired the tableau. Now Ialantra's purposeful expression made her look like she was intent on the task of pleasing the bard. As for Valencia, her look of ecstasy fit right in. "Glad you two are enjoying yourselves," he said, before turning to Astrid.
Astrid was scowling, most likely still sore from her earlier mishap. Lyr offered her an answering scowl—he was still annoyed with her for her teasing earlier. "How about you have some fun, too?" he said, easing her pants down around her ankles while she was still standing. "Can't have you feeling left out, after all."
He looked around—everyone else was already otherwise occupied, except for Rehemah. He planned on having some fun with Rehemah himself—but there was no reason she couldn't enjoy Astrid first, as a little appetizer. He carried her over to Rehemah—it was a lot easier than moving the massive tigrin—and set her down on the path in front of her, pulling her pants off the rest of the way and spreading her legs wide so it looked like she was eagerly offering herself to Rehemah.
"All right, let's do this carefully," he said to Rehemah, grunting as he tried to ease her bulk down to the ground. Then he frowned, thinking to himself. "On second thought… why? It's not like you're going to complain."
He gave Rehemah a shove, and she landed hard on the ground. Now that she was horizontal, she was a lot easier to maneuver. He positioned her on her stomach, between Astrid's legs, and slid one of her fingers inside Astrid. "Hope you don't mind claws," he said to Astrid with a smile.
He stretched Astrid's pussy lips as wide as he could, then slid another of Rehemah's fingers inside her, and another. He fucked her roughly with Rehemah's hand, smiling as he imagined Astrid waking up with a soreness inside that she couldn't explain—a pain she would never think of attributing to Rehemah's claws.
"As for you," he said to Rehemah, "you were looking for an adventure, weren't you? Thinking about what it would be like to go somewhere you've never been? I'd say Astrid's pussy qualifies. It's not like she lets anyone else in there." He turned her head so it looked like the rapt attention she had been giving Valencia was squarely on him. He kissed her, running his tongue along the sharp tips of her fangs, before pulling back to finish arranging her. He lowered her chest and stuck her ass up in the air, shifting the folds of her skirt until it looked like she was intentionally giving him a glimpse of her pussy and her bare ass.
He pulled Rehemah's hand out of Astrid. "I think you ought to help us out a bit," he said to Astrid. "As a thank-you. I don't know about Rehemah here, but I don't want to lie on that wet, dirty path." He pulled Astrid's arms and legs behind her, setting her hands and feet on the ground with her back raised off the ground, taking full advantage of her flexibility. A few more adjustments, and she had a slight bend to her posture, just enough for her to make a lovely lounge chair.
He maneuvered Rehemah on top of her, on her back and facing Lyr. Astrid swayed precariously under her weight. He straddled Rehemah, putting his whole weight on Astrid, and smiled down at the tigrin, who still looked like she was fixing him with her rapt attention. "And here Astrid thought I didn't have a chance with you," he said, unfastening his trousers.
Her pussy was warm and welcoming as he slid inside her, no less so for her being frozen in time. The differences between her and the other women of the party still fascinated him, even though this was hardly his first time enjoying her body. Her pussy lips were thicker than a human's, and the smell of her was dark and rich and unfamiliar. He had quickly learned that he could thrust into her as hard as he wanted without risking bruising her cervix—her pussy was so long and cavernous it easily swallowed him into its depths. But at the same time, she was delightfully tight, her walls squeezing him with every thrust.
He petted her long, striped fur as he kept up a steady rhythm. He ran his fingers along the underside of her fangs, enjoying coming so close to danger, almost letting the sharp teeth pierce his skin. He thrust into her harder, losing himself in the novelty of her—
And then, with a snapping sound, Astrid collapsed under them. When he looked down past Rehemah, he could see that her limbs were bent at unnatural angles. At least one of her bones had broken under their combined weight, maybe more.
"Oops, sorry about that." He patted Astrid's cheek. "Let me just finish up here before I fix you up. You don't mind, do you?" He played with Astrid's broken arm as he kept driving into Rehemah, jiggling the break, feeling the two jagged pieces of bone rub up against each other underneath her skin.
He thrust into Rehemah one more time, then pulled out just in time to come into the long fur that coated her legs. He rubbed his sticky seed into her fur, matting it, then covered it up by tugging her skirt back into place.
He shoved Rehemah off Astrid with a grunt of exertion. "Now let's see what I can do about you," he said, looking down at Astrid. He clucked his tongue as he ran his hands slowly down each of her limbs, one by one. "Two broken arms and two broken legs?" he said, shaking his head reproachfully.l "You sure do know how to keep a healer in business."
He held his hands over the first of her broken arms, pulling healing magic from his solar plexus. Golden light gathered around his fingers before sinking deep into her skin. The arm straightened before his eyes as the bone knitted together under her skin.
He healed her other broken limbs next, before tugging her pants back on and putting her back more or less where she had been when he had used the pocketwatch. She probably had some other injuries, too—those claws of Rehemah's were pretty sharp—but he left those alone. It might be fun to watch her try to hide her pain from him and everyone else as she wondered what exactly had happened.
He put everyone else back, then pressed the button on the pocketwatch again. He watched Rehemah's face carefully, noting her slight frown and the way her hand moved discreetly to pat her thighs through her skirt as she wondered about the sudden dampness there. Astrid, meanwhile, was pressing her lips together, barely suppressing a noise of pain as she struggled to walk.
"Looks like you're still sore from that fall," Lyr said to her, and smiled. "How about we rest for the night?"
The next morning, the path grew wider and the trees denser as they approached the tigrins' capital. The vines draping over the trees resembled living things as they swayed in the thick breeze. Small stripes of sun cut across the path as the rays struggled to break through the vegetation. Those glimpses of watching eyes grew more frequent.
For most of their journey into the jungle, the path had been simple dirt, but now it was paved with white stone. It and several other identical roads converged like the spokes of a wheel, meeting at a paved stone circle. In the center of the circle, a tall ziggurat rose up, built of the same white stone. At each corner of the edifice, statues of fierce tigrin, holding spears and baring their fangs, stood on guard.
The watching tigrin grew bolder, and Lyr caught brief glimpses of orange fur through the trees as they crept closer, although none of them came fully into view. "Pardon their curiosity," said Rehemah, when she noticed Lyr and the others trying to get a better view of the watchers. "Visitors aren't common here. Many of my people have never seen someone without fur before."
Lyr was about to respond when four tall female tigrin flowed out onto the path in front of them, seemingly from nowhere. They all held long spears and were clad in thick leather armor embossed with symbols that resembled the ones on Rehemah's clothing. "State your business," one ordered with a voice that rumbled deep in her chest.
Rehemah stepped forward. "I am Rehemah, niece of the Great Lady," she said. "These kind people have come to return me home. Were you not told to expect me?"
The guards' demeanor changed in an instant. They inclined their heads to her, lowering their weapons. "We are pleased to have you back with us," one of them said in a low, deferent voice.
They motioned Rehemah toward the stone structure—but crossed their spears to bar the way when the others tried to follow her. "No one goes further than this except by express invitation of the Great Lady," one said, narrowing her eyes at Lyr as if she thought he was a personal threat.
Rehemah shot an apologetic look over her shoulder. "I will be all right from here," she said. "Thank you again for bringing me home." She turned to the guards. "I expect my friends to be allowed to explore the rest of the capital unharmed."
Valencia perked up. "Does that mean we can stay a while? It would be a shame to leave without seeing the rest of the place. There must be some great material for songs around here."
Astrid's hands traveled to her coin purse. "Not to mention shopping."
The guards, seemingly glad for the opportunity to get them out of their sight, directed them to the market, just a short distance away along one of the other spoke-roads. As they walked, the watching tigrins grew even more daring, even coming out of the trees to get a closer look at them. Lyr was pleased to discover that not all of them were as fierce-looking at the guards. Most of them regarded the party with side-eyed curiosity as they passed. Young tigrin women nuzzled nervously into their partners' fur, shying away from the exotic strangers. Children tugged at their parents' skirts and pointed, asking questions.
Most of the tigrin women wore simpler leather versions of Rehemah's chest wrap and long skirt, while the men typically wore nothing but a leather loincloth that came down to their knees. Some had shorter fur, some longer, but they all had the same black stripes and the same striking yellow-green eyes. Lyr winked at a curious tigrin woman, who quickly turned away, hiding her shy giggle behind her hand.
Once they entered the bustle of the marketplace, the tigrins around them no longer tried to hide—they were too intent on their business. Anyone who spotted them, though, couldn't resist taking a moment to stare. Lyr was doing plenty of staring of his own—and not just at the tigrin. Everywhere he looked, he saw something new. There were rows and rows of stalls, all offering things he had never seen before. Leather from animals he had never seen. Colorful rolls of strange fabrics. Fragrant spices, and slabs of exotic meats. Squirming live animals in cages—whether they were pets or food, Lyr didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to ask.
"I wonder what kinds of musical instruments they have here," said Valencia, clasping her hands in anticipation.
Renikk cracked her knuckles. "I want to see the weapons."
"I'd like to look for magic scrolls," said Ialantra. "I'm sure there's magical knowledge here that has never been seen outside the jungle."
"How about you?" Lyr asked, looking at Astrid.
Astrid still didn't look quite like herself today, but she flashed him a smile. "Nothing in particular. I just want to browse."
"Me too," said Lyr. "How about we browse together?"
They strolled through the narrow passages between stalls as the proprietors called out to them, offering their wares. At first he kept stopping to admire all the strange things on offer, but soon he found his eyes were drawn more to the tigrin women than to anything sold at the stalls. Everywhere he looked, there they were, all standing at least a head taller than him, every one of them a luxurious arrangement of curves draped under soft fur. Some chatted with each other, while others bought meat or fabrics or intricate metal combs for their fur. And of course, they stared.
Astrid elbowed him. "Try to keep yourself under control," she said with a snicker. "They're not for sale."
"I would hardly insult these lovely ladies by offering them gold," said Lyr, raising an eyebrow at her. "But that doesn't mean I can't admire their beauty. Or are you feeling a bit jealous?"
Astrid snorted, like the idea was ridiculous. "Just remember," she said, "they're looking at you because they think you're a funny-looking, furless, scrawny creature. Not because they want to get into your pants. Don't go embarrassing yourself."
Instead of answering her, he slid his hand into his pocket and pressed the button on the pocketwatch, freezing Astrid in place with that irritatingly smug expression of hers frozen onto her face. He left her behind, strolling a little ways ahead to approach a group of three young tigrin women discussing a roll of fabric. "Hello there," he said, shooting them a smile, as if they could see and hear him. "I hope I'm not interrupting your shopping. I can't help but be curious about you and your people, and I'm hoping you can help assuage my curiosity. You wouldn't mind if I took a quick look, would you?"
His time spent with Rehemah on the journey had given him practice at maneuvering large tigrin women around. Of course, he had learned the most valuable lesson about this last night, which was that if they had no idea what was happening, he didn't have to worry overly much about just knocking them over. He shoved his body into each of them, one by one, knocking them down to the ground.
There, he arranged them in a row across the path. He sat them all down, leaning back slightly, with their knees pulled up and their legs slightly parted. He eased their skirts open until each of them seemed to be shyly flashing a hint of what lay between their legs.
He knelt beside the first of the women. "Your shape is so similar to human women," he said, "but there are some noticeable differences I'd like to examine further. For one thing, your breasts are considerably larger than the average human woman, even taking proportions into account."
He tugged down the tigrin woman's chest wrap, freeing her heavy breasts, and weighed them in his hands. "Oh, this is interesting," he told the woman. "Your nipples are also much bigger than a human's. Is that a trait of all your people, or are you just lucky?" He quickly tugged the wraps off the other two women, and explored their nipples with his fingers one by one. "It's all three of you, I see. Now that's a physical difference I would never have expected."
He ran his hands along one woman's waist, then repeated the action with the others, feeling the tight muscles under his skin. "You all have small waists in proportion to your breasts and hips," he said. "And such strong muscles, here and everywhere else." He poked one of them in the abs. "Those muscles will need more extensive testing, I think. But for now…"
He ran his hands back up past the woman's breasts to open her mouth wide. Her eyes stared into his, alight with amusement at whatever her friends had been saying to her, as he felt into her mouth to examine her teeth. "Nice sharp fangs," he said, before reaching his hand deeper. "And the rest are sharp, too. They look strong—you take good care of your teeth out here, don't you?"
He opened the other women's mouths and explored their fangs, also tugging at their tongues, noting that they were longer than a human tongue and also more flexible. "I see a lot of intriguing possibilities there," said Lyr, waggling his eyebrows at him. "And speaking of which…" He tugged their skirts open the rest of the way, leaving their pussies on full display. "Let's see what your people are like below the belt, shall we?"
They all shared Rehemah's thick pink pussy lips, and they all had fat clits, bigger and rounder than a human's, like ripe cherries. He took the time to rub each of their clits before moving on—"You've been so accommodating," he said, "I might as well give you something for your trouble." Then he probed their pussies with his fingers, feeling the same satisfying mix of length and tightness that he had noted in Rehemah. "I'm looking forward to doing some more thorough exploration," he said, with his fingers still buried deep inside one of the women. "But for now, I'll let you get back to your business."
He wiped his hand on the nearest tigrin woman's fur before rearranging their clothes and standing them back up. He put them approximately where they had been before—but after the careful attention he had given each of them, he had a feeling that when time restarted again, all three of them would be feeling a lot more aroused than they normally got from browsing the fabric stalls.
He walked on, greeting the frozen tigrin he passed. He grabbed an exotic fruit from one of the stalls, something round and purple and fragrant, and smashed it into the face of the tigrin woman selling the fruits. "Purple looks good on you," he told her, arranging the crushed fruit so it was sitting directly over her open eyes. He rubbed it in a little more, smearing the juices across her eyeballs and into her fur.
He passed several young tigrin couples holding hands, but handholding seemed to be the extent of the affection couples showed each other at the market. "Let's shake things up a bit," he said, and pulled two tigrin women with lovestruck expressions away from the objects of their affection. He wrapped their arms around each other and brought their lips together in a passionate kiss.
He left them there in the middle of the path and moved on, looking for someone who looked exceptionally strong—he needed a good subject for his strength tests. He quickly found who he was looking for, an athletic and muscular tigrin woman browsing daggers at a weapons stall. She was eyeing a dagger with a skeptical expression, like she was criticizing its design.
"You look like you can take a punch," he said, and drove his fist into her abdomen hard enough to make her breath whoosh out of her lungs. He winced, bringing his fist back in toward himself and cradling it with the fingers of his other hand. "I was right—those are some intense muscles you've got." He raised his fist to his lips and blew on it. "Well, now that I know what to expect, let's try that again."
He drove his fist into one of her breasts, harder even than he would have risked with Renikk. Her breast proved to be a much softer target, absorbing his blow as the flesh compressed inward. "That's better," he said. "You make a great punching bag—the trick is to hit the padded parts."
He eyed the woman, whose stance hadn't shifted in the slightest. "I wonder what it would take to knock you over?" He turned her head toward him, as if she was aiming that skeptical expression at him and not the dagger. "What, you don't think I can do it?" he said. "Watch me prove you wrong."
He drove his fist into her face, smashing his knuckles into her lips. She wobbled back and forth, then fell backward into the dagger stall, collapsing the wood under her weight. "Oops," said Lyr, then took a closer look at her mouth. "And double oops." Her expression was strangely asymmetrical now—he had knocked out one of her fangs.
She had landed with her legs up in the air. The unnatural position made him want to see just how flexible these tigrin could get. He pulled her skirt up to her waist to give himself room to maneuver, then pulled her legs apart as far as he could, until they were practically perpendicular to her hips. "Very flexible," he said with a nod of approval. "I'm not surprised, given how elegantly you all move."
He grabbed her ankle and tried to pull it behind her head, but it wouldn't make it quite all the way. "Not as flexible as Astrid, though," he said. "I guess elves still have the edge on you in some areas."
He grabbed the dagger she had been examining and pressed the hilt against her pussy lips. He slid the hilt into her as far as it would go, until only the sharp blade was visible, protruding from her pussy as if she had taken up a highly unorthodox fighting technique. "I don't know why you were complaining about that weapon," he said. "It looks pretty good to me."
He pulled the dagger out of her and set it down where it had been without bothering to clean it off. There was nothing he could do to put the stall back together, so he left it and the woman where they were. He wondered which would startle the woman more—her embarrassing stumble into the stall, or her catastrophic wardrobe malfunction.
"That was tiring," said Lyr, cradling his sore knuckles as he ambled on past more stalls. "I could use a little rest after that." He sized up the tigrin he passed until he saw an exceptionally tall young woman with unusually fluffy fur and soft, pillowy breasts that swelled enticingly under her chest wrap. "You look like just what I need," he said, pushing her over into the path.
Once she was on her back, he arranged her into a soft bed, with her legs outstretched and her arms bent slightly to cradle him. "That's just right," he said happily, pulling down her chest wrap so he could rest his head on her breasts, were just as soft as they looked. He frowned. "But something is missing. I could really use some company."
Luckily, there was no shortage of it here. He quickly spotted a woman who was short for a tigrin, but still taller than him, with satisfyingly round breasts and an ass to match, and a waist that cut in sharply. She had sparkling eyes and a mouth that was wide open as if she had been laughing. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her over to the bed he had created for himself, grunting with exertion—she might have been small for a tigrin, but every tigrin woman seemed to be dense with thick muscle.
He lay down on his bed, nestling his head between the tall tigrin woman's breasts, and pulled the smaller tigrin down on top of him. He unfastened his trousers and maneuvered the woman on top of him until her wide-open mouth was directly over his crotch. He eased his cock into her mouth, carefully to avoid her sharp fangs, and moved her up and down on him.
He grabbed her ears between his fingers like handles, and pressed his thumbs into her amused eyes as he bobbed her up and down. "It's like you were waiting there just for me," he said. "I fit just right." This was making him wish he had spent more time with Rehemah's mouth—there was something undeniably satisfying about narrowly avoiding the tigrin's fangs.
With a groan, he pulled her down deeper onto him, pressing his thumbs harder into her open eyes. He pinched her ears tightly as he shot his seed down her throat. Her mouth remained open and waiting, and a sticky trickle drizzled out onto the tigrin he was using as a bed.
When he had emptied himself into her, he shoved her carelessly away. "You're going to wonder what that strange taste in your mouth is, I bet," he said to her as he stood up. "Sorry, but you won't be finding that exotic treat anywhere in this market. Unless you want to come find me again." He winked.
He hauled her to her feet and put her back where he had found her. He eyed the taller tigrin woman he had been using as a bed, trying to figure out how to get her up, before deciding it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, he spread her out on the path, arms and legs at odd angles, for maximum chaos—anyone walking by would trip over her. Like Astrid, she would no doubt think she had fallen, and she just might create a pile of fallen fluffy tigrin on top of her before she managed to right herself. Now that would be fun to watch.
He whistled to himself as he stropped back to Astrid. On his way back, he grabbed some kind of sweet candy on a stick and ate it all before placing the now-empty stick into the hand of the next tigrin he passed. With one last look at the frozen crowd of tigrin, he took a deep breath and pressed the button on the stopwatch.
Whatever Astrid said to him next was drowned out by cries of dismay and confusion around him. The tigrin with the fruit crushed into her face spluttered, spitting purple juices as she blinked bits of fruit out of her eyes. The two kissing women shoved each other away while their partners looked on in utter confusion. The woman who had fallen into the dagger stall hastily yanked her skirt back down around her legs, while the owner of the stall yelled at her, waving his fist. And first one tigrin, then another and another, tripped over the tall woman who was now lying in the middle of the path. By the time she began trying to push herself up, she had brought at least four other tigrin down with her.
As for the three women he had examined, they continued their conversation, looking around curiously at the chaos that had erupted around them. Lyr watched with interest as they all shifted in sudden discomfort, their cheeks darkening, their legs pressing together.
Astrid raised her eyebrows. "I wonder if it's always like this," she said.
"Who knows what's normal for this place," said Lyr, shrugging cheerfully. He pointed to some kind of hard-shelled, long-snouted animal in a cage. "Take a look at that critter. You suppose they make good pets?"
They browsed together for a bit as the momentary chaos settled down. Astrid informed him that under no circumstances could he bring a pet along on their future adventures. Lyr pointed out the dagger-seller's destroyed stall to her, and she picked out a weapon and paid well for it, which Lyr considered to be his apology to the seller for what he had done. He offered to buy one of those candies on a stick for Astrid, but when she made another snarky comment about his interest in all the tigrin women around them, he rescinded the offer. That earned him a cuff upside the head from her, which he took with good humor—he would pay her back later, and then some.
A couple of hours had passed when the others came to find him—accompanied by two of the fierce guards who had blocked their way when they had returned Rehemah home. Lyr tensed, wondering if he should be worried. But the guards didn't look particularly angry, nor did the other women look especially worried.
"I'm glad we found you," said Rennik, waving them over. "It sounds like their Great Lady wants to see us."
"You have been summoned into the Great Lady's presence," one of the guards agreed. "She wishes to address the people responsible for delivering her niece safely home."
They returned to the ziggurat, and this time, instead of blocking their way, the guards escorted them to the front entrance. Sized for a tigrin, the tall stone door made Lyr feel small. They walked inside and found themselves in a wide stone corridor, where no one said a word and ever footstep echoed. The walls were gleaming white stone lined with more guards, all of whom watched them with sharp eyes and serious expressions. Carved into the walls was image after image of tigrin defeating their enemies in battle and butchering them in increasingly inventive ways. Lyr swallowed hard.
The hallway opened onto a round central chamber with a high domed ceiling. At the center of the chamber was a tall dais, framed on all sides by gauzy curtains that showed a silhouette of a tigrin sitting or reclining. Maybe it was just something about the way the light of the burning torches on the walls interacted with the sheer material of the curtains, but the tigrin behind the curtains looked bigger than any he had seen so far.
Half a dozen guards, all female, were waiting in the room. Lyr hadn't seen a single male tigrin inside the structure, now that he thought about it—maybe men normally weren't allowed in the Great Lady's presence. The guards motioned Lyr and the others to sit on a low stone bench, holding their weapons ready as if expecting them to lunge for the dais. Lyr let out a nervous laugh. "We're all friends here," he assured the guards. "I try to make it a rule not to make an enemy out of people who could eat me in one bite."
No one laughed. The guards' expressions only grew grimmer. The others, even the normally cheerful Valencia, shot him reproachful looks. He pressed his lips together and vowed to stay silent from now on.
From within the curtains came the low rumble of a tigrin clearing her throat. "So," she said. "You are the ones who returned my beloved niece to me." She spoke slowly, as if she expected the sun itself to wait to continue its journey across the sky until she was finished speaking. Her voice was throaty and commanding, sending a shiver of visceral fear through Lyr.
Silence fell over the room. "Well?" the Great Lady asked, and Lyr realized she was expecting them to answer.
"Yes," he said hastily. "Um, I mean, that's us." Unfortunately, the others all answered at the same time, filling the room with a tangle of voices.
"I see," she said, shifting slightly behind the curtains. "And how did you end up with this task?" From her tone, it was impossible to tell whether she meant the question in a purely neutral way, or if she thought so little of them that she couldn't imagine how such an important task had fallen to them, of all people.
They all looked at each other, no one wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Ialantra spoke. "We're known for our skills both at fighting and at traversing unfamiliar terrain," she said, "but not so well-known that we would attract unwanted attention."
Another moment of silence followed. Although Lyr couldn't see exactly where the Great Lady was looking, he sensed they were being studied, evaluated for their competence… or perhaps for ulterior motives. What would happen if the Great Lady found them lacking? Lyr was sure he didn't want to find out.
"Did you encounter any threats on the way?" the Great Lady asked at last. "Any attempts on my niece's life?"
Rennik answered this time, shaking her head. "None," she said, sounding more subdued than Lyr had ever heard her. "The journey was entirely uneventful."
"And were there any attempts on my niece's virtue?" asked the Great Lady.
Lyr felt, all of a sudden, like the tigrin lady's eyes were fixed directly on him. He barely heard Astrid answer in the negative. He froze, then realized his sudden tension would only make him look guilty. He shifted unnaturally, crossing and uncrossing his legs, before deciding that was even worse.
The Great Lady grew silent again. With every moment that passed, Lyr's panic rose. Did she somehow know what had happened on the road—what Lyr had done with Rehemah? Was she about to order him cut apart like some of the unfortunate victims in the art on the walls outside the chamber?
Before he fully realized what he was doing, he slipped his hand into his pocket and jammed the button of the pocketwatch down faster than he ever had before.
Everyone but him went instantly and utterly still. Lyr's breath sounded loud in his ears now that it was the only sound in the room. He stood, half-expecting the Great Lady to order him to sit down. But as intimidating as she was, even she wasn't immune to the power of the pocketwatch. The silhouette behind the curtains was as frozen as everyone else.
He booped the nearest guard on the nose, just to prove to himself that he was safe. Sure enough, the guard didn't so much as flinch, let alone make a move to run him through with her spear. He walked up to the next guard and got on his tiptoes to lick her eyeball. She didn't move either. His racing heart began to slow.
"Not so scary now, are you?" he asked. His words echoed through the silent room. He moved on to the next guard, punching her in the face hard enough to make her head snap to the side. "Go on, fight back if you want to." She didn't, of course. His nerves eased a little more.
He punched the next guard in the breasts through her thick leather armor, one after the other. The armor dented under his knuckles, her soft breasts compressing underneath. "Good thing I learned how to handle this kind of punching bag back in the market," he said. He moved on to the next guard. "Although I didn't try this." He drove his fist straight up between her legs.
The guard's forbidding expression didn't shift in the slightest. "I wonder if you'll be able to keep up that poker face once you wake up," he said, and gave her another vicious punch in the same spot for good measure. "That'll be a fun distraction while I wait to find out whether your Great Lady is about to have me killed."
He returned to the guard he had started with, plucking her spear from her hands. "You ever have any fun with these weapons of yours?" he asked, unfastening the guard's heavy leather skirt and letting it fall to the floor. He parted her legs slightly, holding on to her to keep her upright, and pressed the handle of the spear up between her pussy lips.
A surprising amount of the spear disappeared into her before he hit resistance. He wrapped her hands around the spear, as if she were driving it deeper into herself. He stood back and eyed her as if he had just found her that way. "Amazing that your Great Lady lets you do that on the job," he said. "But maybe she likes to watch." He shot a leering look over his shoulders at the figure behind the curtains, feeling bolder by the minute. "And who can blame her?"
He studied the curtains—and the shadowed figure beyond them. He might as well at least get a look—especially if he was about to die. Before he could talk himself out of it, he strode to the front curtain and pulled it aside, exposing the figure inside.
It hadn't been an illusion—the Great Lady, reclining on a bed of intricately embroidered cushions, was the tallest and most statuesque tigrin he had ever seen. She wore clothes nearly identical to Rehemah's, but with different symbols dyed into the fabric. But her clothes were the least interesting thing about her appearance. Where every other tigrin he had seen was orange, her fur was as white as snow, with deep black stripes providing a sharp contrast. Her eyes weren't the yellow-green of all the other tigrin he had seen, either. Instead, they were a pale blue, and so intense he was sure for a moment that she could see him despite being frozen in time. He went still under that severe gaze.
He took a deep breath and walked up to her. She didn't move. He poked her hard in one blue eye, then the other. The Great Lady didn't react. Despite her piercing gaze, she really was as frozen as the others. His hand went out, almost involuntarily, to pet her fur. She could easily have been the same age as Rehemah—she had an aura of youth and agelessness about her in equal measure. He sighed softly as his fingers met her fur, which was impossibly soft, softer even than the fur of the tigrin he had used as a bed earlier today.
He pulled his hand back and shook himself out of the momentary spell her regal beauty had cast on him. He gave her tail a sharp tug and slapped her lightly across the cheek. "You're not so scary, are you?" He ruffled the fur on the top of her head. "You're just a big kitty-cat."
He punched her hard in the breast. One advantage to her light clothing was that unlike the armor the guards were wearing, it offered no resistance. He drew back his foot and kicked her hard enough to compress her belly and make all her breath exit her lungs in a soft sigh. Her imperious expression didn't change as she fell sideways onto her cushions.
He stepped on her belly, rubbing the dirt of his boot into her pristine fur. He rubbed his other boot into her face, letting road dust smear across her lips and fall into her eyes. He straddled her, leaned down close to that dangerous-looking face of hers, and spat first into her eyes, then onto her lips. He forced her lips apart just long enough to let his saliva drip into her mouth, then closed them again. "No, not so scary at all," he said.
He righted her on her cushions and sprawled out on top of her, pulling her arms around him to hold him in place. "You missed your calling," he told her. "You would have made a great bed. Plenty of people will pay a lot for real fur furniture."
He grabbed one of her clawed hands in hers. As he undid his trousers with his other hand, he wrapped her hand around his cock and used it to stroke himself slowly. "Or maybe you'd make a better toy than furniture," he said. "On the other hand, there's no reason you couldn't be both."
He stroked himself with her hand until he was so hard he was aching. Then he shifted so he was kneeling on her chest, and took hold of his cock to rub it all over her fierce face. He poked her in the eye with it, smearing precum over her eyeball.
He rolled off her and pried her legs apart, spreading them lewdly in front of the open curtain. Taking hold of her hand again, he brought it between her legs and slid one of her fingers inside her. "Giving everyone a show today, are you?" he asked, with a nod toward the open curtain. "Did you call us all here to inspect the royal pussy?"
As much as he was looking forward to giving her a verythorough inspection, he had another idea he wanted to have some fun with first. He climbed down from the dais and shoved all the guards into position where he wanted them, using all his body weight to shift them on the stone floor. Soon the Great Lady had an attentive audience, with every guard and all his party members leaning in closely to get a good look at what she was showing them. The guard with the spear up her pussy looked like she was especially inspired by the show. There was no reason she should have all the fun, so he arranged a couple of other guards so their hands were between their thighs, and did the same for his nervous-looking party members.
Then he climbed the dais again to rejoin the Great Lady. He pried her mouth open and forced her head down onto him, with her legs still spread wide. He tilted her chin up as he thrust into her mouth, so he could look directly into those dangerous eyes.
He pulled out of her mouth and rubbed his saliva-covered cock off on her breasts before positioning himself between her legs. He moved her hand out of the way, then slammed greedily into her, grabbing hold of her legs to hold them up in a decidedly undignified position. "I bet your guards have never seen a show like this before," he said. "You ought to give them the opportunity more often. I bet they'd enjoy their jobs more."
He squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples as he continued to drive into her. "I've got to say, this is the most high-end pussy I've ever had," he said. He grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted up her torso, then slammed her down hard into the cushions. He did it over and over again, in time with his thrusts, watching the way it shook her breasts. Her forbidding expression still didn't change.
He draped himself across her, letting out a low groan of pleasure, as he buried himself inside her as far as he could. Staring into her eyes, he shot his cum deep inside her as he wrapped her arms around her and nuzzled his head between her breasts. He stayed like that for a moment before wiping himself clean on the fur of her thighs. Then he curled up on her torso, wrapped her arms around him, and settled in for a brief nap.
He woke feeling refreshed, satisfied, and ready to face whatever was next. "I guess we should get this over with," he said to the Great Lady with a sigh. "But I'll warn you right now, if you try to have me killed, I'm just going to freeze you all over again." He squeezed one of her breasts. "And maybe have a little more fun with you before I make a run for it."
He put her back the way he had found her, careful to make sure every detail was correct. He did the same with the guards and all his party members. Finally, he closed the curtain and settled himself back onto the bench.
Then he slipped his hand back into his pocket and pressed the button.
Next to him, his party members shifted nervously as they awaited the Great Lady's next words. The guard Lyr had punched repeatedly in the crotch remained silent, but she pressed her lips together, her face creased with sudden pain. The one he had intimately introduced to her own spear frowned in confusion, like she was sensing something she couldn't put a name to.
"You have done my niece a great service," the Great Lady finally said. Once again, her voice sent a shiver through Lyr—but not a shiver of fear this time. He smiled to himself at the knowledge that his seed was deep inside her even as she spoke. Did she feel anything amiss? If so, what did she make of it? He supposed he would never know, because she would never reveal any hint of weakness.
"And that," the Great Lady continued, "means you have done me a great service. I wish to offer you my thanks—and a reward for your efforts."
At some signal Lyr didn't catch, another tigrin walked into the chamber, holding a large silk bag. She presented it to the party, and Lyr grabbed it before any of the others could. He peeked inside—and suddenly couldn't breathe. Glittering gems of all colors—diamonds and rubies and emeralds, a rainbow of wealth. He had never seen that many gemstones before in one place.
"Thank you," he managed to say, lowering his eyes. It wouldn't do, after all, for the Great Lady to think he didn't respect her.