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Anicetus rubs his neck, snorting and shaking his head. He turns toward Judith, growling and lifting his front legs, but Tik Tik shouts, pressing her cheek against his stomach, “No, we need stop fighting. She beat. Get moving. Take package!”

The centaur snaps out of his battle fury, slamming his hooves down and rushing off. Even the resolve of the Judicators wasn’t enough to keep them from dispersing at the speed at which he rushed at them, leaving them behind to shout and whistle and chase.

“Judith, Judith?”

The captain groans, rubbing her head and sitting up. “Wuh… what happened?”

“You were stunned and struck with a touch of frostbite,” says her elven companion. “But I’ve never seen a woman fight as bravely as you have. Twice, you attacked the centaur head-on.”

“That’s funny,” says the captain, adjusting her shades, “I didn’t see any of it at all.”

The two smile, getting back up, with Judith sweeping her arm over the remaining officers. “Send reports to the others. If they stop, we’ll catch them. If they turn away from their destination, we shall pursue them.”

“My captain,” starts another blindfolded Judicator, stomping the ground and banging it with his man-catcher. “We are going to let them escape?”

“We are going to let them leave the city so that it may be peaceful and orderly again,” admits the Captain. “If they’re delivering a package, I want agents to figure out what it is, where it’s going, and to whom it is destined, is that understood?”

“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am!” shouts the blind Judicators. The mute Judicators stomp and stamp and nod in response. The deaf keep their vigilance as designated members among the mute and blind sign to them her orders.

As the Judicators disperse, two individuals sitting on a bench listen in with long twitching ears while surreptitiously hiding themselves from the guardspeople with a prominent newspaper between them.

“Did you hear that?” one of the listeners says, scooting closer to the other behind their simplistic disguise.

“Indeed I did,” says the other. “A package from Tik Tik could be a fine treasure indeed.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, my deer. It would be a shame not to figure out what it is ourselves.”

“You’re right, Love. Let’s fire up the steed, shall we?”

“Oh yes, let’s.”

* * *

Anicetus rushes through the remainder of the city, his galloping stride much faster now that heis strapped-on belly rider Tik Tik and himself are on the run from the local authorities.

The wind whips past Tik Tik, sending a chill down through her body, despite the warmth of the belly at her underbelly and the cock buried deep within her. But with each stride and with each gallop, the Centaur’s dick pushes into her, allowing the male to fuck her no matter what else he is doing.

So many questions swirl around Tik Tik regarding Anicetus’s escape plan and how he can concentrate with the kobold onahole massaging his cock. Still, these questions must wait for later, perhaps, as people in town yelp, dive, shriek, or chse. It is a mess, and they would have to escape from it sooner rather than later.

But with Anicetus’s equine speed and cunning mind, he can escape collisions by swerving, sliding, or leaping high. More than once during some of these maneuvers, Tik Tik sees people gawking up at her, but at the speed at which they were going, she has to wonder just how many people get to see her clearly enough to appreciate her truly.

Oh, how wonderful it must be for the exhibitionist and even more remarkable for those who desire to do things in public with the risk of getting caught. If only she had a pen, or if only Eshere, her slimy scribe, would be here to record these thoughts and actions.

But Tik Tik giggles. Indeed, it would be impossible to write anything down at this speed. Is it time to test that theory?

The kobold presses her finger against the horseman’s equine pectorals, running through an imaginary script of what she might have written had she had the opportunity and tools.

There comes a twitch from Anicetus’s cock.

The kobold snickers, pushing her lower body against him, rubbing over his stomach where his horsey nipples are, bumping her scales against those sensitive nubs of flesh.

The cock hardens even more as it moves around within her.

The groping continues, hands moving around his upper body, lower body rubbing against his lower body, and her feet, oh, her feet, they grip at the massive shaft, pressing the soles against his member, slipping up and down along his length, up and down and up and down and never stopping.

After all, why should Tik Tik be the only one to receive pleasure during this endeavor?

A contingent of town guards, not members of the Judicators, work at the gate. It is the middle of the day, so the massive structures are wide open, allowing the many caravans, carriages, and adventuring parties in and out of the city. The thick traffic impedes movement for everyone trying to get in or out. There is only so much space in the world, and an ever-growing number of people must use that space. This sort of thing is precisely why Tik Tik’s teleportation is so practical.

Anicetus has his own method of speeding up travel. He leaps up high, landing here and there on the roofs and emptier spaces of more sturdy wagons, carriages, and coaches. Each landing causes quite a shock for the passengers and drivers, slowing down the traffic even more for the rest of the people in town.

The kobold has to stop her ministrations, because the constant leaping and landing sends his cock poumping harder into her, making her gasp and groan and cry and squirm. No more scientific curiosity—no more mischevous messing with him. She is stuck here, getting pounded as a piece of meat for him to slide his dick in and out of.

And does he, Anicetus, get off to this? What exactly about it? There’s so much about this centaur that Tik Tik doesn’t know, and she can’t possibly speculate on anything right now, not as the two of them leap from the final coach and over the road.

Because that’s when Anicetus meets his climax.