FSE

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Walking around the Slave Pits of the Wide River Port was always an education. For one lesson, trying to sustain a society based on warrior slaves tended not to work out too well. The Gladiators had shifted from strictly prisoners to a weird mix of technically slaves and condemned, who were frequently pardoned thanks to the sheer amount of money flowing in through endorsements. The resulting massive betting scandals had led to the First Conference, and the fall of the standing government due to massive overinvestment in panem et circenses, to actually bring back the purity of the sport. However imagined that purity may have been. On the side, the borderline nonexistent government had undergone some degree of reforms which happened to minimize the aristocratic influence over the city.

Then the Mamluks invaded and introduced their own take on slave warrior bands, namely as competent administrators working for family groups within slave companies that bought slaves to keep the company going. They’d successfully supplanted the existing dynastic system, leading to higher taxes applied to the rich, resulting in one of the wider civil wars.

Then conscript serfs had been used as pikemen, leading to mass banditry after the conflicts had subsided, and forcing actual rule of law and a broad rise in trade and interchange of ideas.

Then all the slaves had been freed because… mate, it’s slavery. Unless it’s consensual, it undermines the basic virtue of being a person. Also, because of a massive war following centuries of declining marginal returns and shifts in productive economic output towards skill based tasks. Knowing if a piece of iron broke because it was poor grade or because your slave blacksmith had intentionally messed up the heat treatment meant knowing more than them, and that’s just too much to know past a certain point. The old slave aristocracy just got sidelined as the world became more complex, then strung up when they fought to stop the world from changing.

But the Slave Pits retained their name, because nobody likes renaming shit, and you got a neat divergent series of architectural choices, ranging from neoclassical columns, adobe brick, southern inspired domes, and penny-pinching utilitarian, with the random fountain thrown in.

Now it was mostly a place for people with a lot of leather and spikes to work out and meet up.

The other lesson was exactly what people were into. Amazons pulling pony carts, orcs hawking bod mods, dwarves with hidden bondage systems to tug and pull all day, it was a veritable smorgasbord of kink lived as practiced. When you saw a human selling breast milk coffee, you knew that someone was cumming themselves silly whenever a minotaur got a refill.

And a great place to pick up people who were interested in trying out new things in their life.

Mostly mildly stunned farmers, suddenly having their horizons widened when they saw their first…

Secunda looked around, trying to think of an appropriate example. It was a tad hard by virtue of choice. She’d seen migrants shocked by the fact that there was something other than honey available as a sweetener. The kobold domming a clydesdale centaur in the alley over there would have barely raised an eyebrow in comparison, despite decades of religious effort spent supporting species implied social norms. She supposed it was what you were used to and what you expected, hence the extremely flustered five foot tall freckly human cornered by three succubi, desperately trying to politely escape.

“You think we should help him?” Secunda asked Primus.

Surprisingly enough, they weren’t siblings, they’d just grown up in the same Imperial dominated town, and the Imperials had a remarkably boring naming convention until someone had ‘proven themselves’ according to some traditionalists.

Primus rumbled a laugh and started walking towards the group.

Adrian was… a tad overwhelmed. That morning, he’d gotten on a ship as a hauler for a free ticket to the city, gotten paid, walked down the main street, and gotten wildly lost as the world got stranger and stranger, before being cornered by three goddesses with bulging…. Everything, who kept getting close and complementing him and his hand was on his coin purse, and one of them was gently taking it away and pulling it close to their-

A cough slightly shook the ground, and all four heads turned to look at the newcomers.

Then they looked up.

In front of them was a 7 foot tall orc wearing an old shirt and a pair of shorts. They were stacked with thick practical muscle, and stood like they knew how to move; relaxed, aware, knees slightly bent, and wearing heavy boots. A bag slung over their shoulder showed where their training shoes were probably held, and the distinct bluge showed the training battleaxe.

The other individual attracted a tad more attention. It was a freaking bear. It growled inquisitively, not overtly hostile, but… bear. Hard to ignore. Implicit threat.

The succubi eased their hands away from their target, as the orc cleared their throat. “Sorry, Primus here is a werebear, and it’s the month of the Wild Hunt, so he needs to be in bear form for the entire time. We were just concerned that a visitor to our fine city might not be feeling welcomed.”

The bear stood up and waved, grinning toothily. Adrian wasn’t sure if bearing your teeth counted as being nice or being threatening in werebear culture, but it was hard to control his reflex to start running. Two of the succubi started walking backwards, muttering excuses and then turning and hurrying off. One didn’t bother with that, just sprinting down an alley. A muffled “ow” a few seconds later said why you don’t sprint in high heels.

The last one locked eyes with the newcomers, looking irritated. “Secunda Vira”

The orc’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Glad to know I have a fan.”

“Quite. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something more important to do than get my nose broken.” The succubus stamped off. When she got out of sight, the bear made an inquisitive noise to Secunda.

“Oh, yeah, it would have been really funny to have broken her nose right there, but that’s assault.” She replied, then looked down at Adrian.

“You alright?” She asked, sounding calmer and friendlier.

“Yeah… umm… thanks? Were they going to rob me?”

“Probably something like that. Depends on how susceptible you are to psychic fuckery and how horny you are. Anyway, what are you doing here? You look a little lost.”

“Erm…. I’ve always wanted to compete in the… fight circuits… And I thought I would try to join the Legionnaires.” Adrian said.

Secunda looked him up and down. “Umm… so the team fights tend to draw from… the existing individual competitors. They don’t usually train up their own people.”

“I… huh… well…” Adrian looked flustered, not sure what to do.

“Look, you have anywhere to go? You want to come to my gym and we can chat over coffee or something?”

“Umm… what’s coffee?”

“… it’s just an expression. Come on.”

***

A few minutes later, Adrian was staring around the well lit workout area. “Careful, you’re drooling.” Secunda said, laughing.

“Umm… sorry. I… didn’t realize that the fighters were… like that.”

“You were only in the high seats?”

“Yeah… visited here once when I was young. Promised myself I’d do my best to show what I could do.”

“Well…” Secunda gestured to the muscle beasts currently hitting each other with practice clubs. Primus was one of them, using specially designed gloves to allow him to bash while in bear form. It was rare to see a fighter under 2 meters. It was borderline unheard of for one to be under 6 feet.

Adrian felt like he was a kid again, dwarfed on all sides.

“… so, there are some potential solutions here. One, infection by one of the -cythantropies. Like Primus over there.” Indicated werebear was helping their opponent to the medical station with what looked like a dislocated arm.

“That’ll have some other effects, but they’re more muted than the other alternatives. You’ll be able to go home and be recognized. Downside is occasional insanity and personality disorders. Until you manage to accept yourself in its new entirety, all aspects of your personality will impact your ability to function in any form. Some monks get infected to demonstrate their control over themselves and all aspects of their existence. They use their new form to protect travelers. The Wary Aware Werewolves also have regular pun competitions. They’re debating moving to a port so they can formalize the center of their religion on a pier. Or weir.” She sighed, then laughed a bit. Adrian was staring at her wide eyed, eyes flicking over to where something scaley with fangs and claws was leading a class through a movement drill.

“You can pay a mage to ensoul you into a beast powerful enough to keep up with everyone else. Slightly higher risk of insanity. No more than 1 in 10 is the quoted rate, but that really varies based on how solitary the species is and how good a support network you have. Plus the whole instinctual reactions can have negative side effects. Most people don’t take kindly to a dragon setting up a lair in the tallest tower. We already have one there who keeps trying to convince the city council to ban the construction of any taller towers because it makes them feel inadequate” Secunda was leaning back in her chair, drinking a thick protein rich shake and thinking. “Plus the cost to hunt down the dragon, and often the need to negotiate with it and make a proper deal with anything that powerful. It’s the same issue with selling your soul to a demon, all the demons powerful enough for it to be worth it are already in high demand. Or are so dangerous that people aren’t willing to take the chance.”

“Are there any others? Because the werewolf one seems the most feasible. And least... like… creepy.”

“Well, the last one is alchemical enhancement. It’s what I went for. Used to be an angry balls of redheaded bow based fury. We have a team on staff that mixes up our supplements from a base magical substance and that helps us maintain our body structure. Only downside are hormonal shifts and the need to actually like… work towards your goals.”

“Explain?”

“The advantage of becoming a werewolf is that the werewolf form has innate power. It leaks across and can be honed, but… you’ll always be a werewolf and able to eat a feast each meal and fight in a couple hours. With ensoulment or pledging to a patron, you’re relying on their powers rather than your own. Really helpful if you’re not confident in yourself. Alchemical enhancement gives your body a magical boost, but your reflexes and strength is still your own. And it still takes effort to stay on top of the hormonal drive. Getting down with the weird is fine, but you can’t allow the weird to drive you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Mate, look at me. If I wanted to do some fucked up shit, nobody’d be able to stop me without a lot of missing limbs. Except that a lot of people know that, including the alchemists. So… they’ll usually pair you up with a group who keep you on the straight and narrow. Or else. And the blowback from ‘or else’ can be a tad aggressive. We had a few vampires try to move in and start a thrall coven. Turns out that Lady Sativum has a pretty negative view of people coming in and upsetting the peace, so they’re being used by the Druids to demonstrate the accuracy of their stone calendar. Midsummer morning is when the rising sun will line up with their head. If they’re unlucky, it’ll be cloudy that day.”

“So… I’d need to find a sponsor?”

“Basically, yes. Someone who is willing to accept the risk that is inherent to an unknown person asking to become powerful enough to be a world class warrior. Hard to find someone like that.”

“… would you do it?”

“Eh, fuck it, sure. The team needs a deeper backbench at the least.”

“Any reason why you did the big speech rather than just offering?”

“I wanted you to see if you’d have the balls to say yes after all that.”

“I… umm guess I do? Don’t exactly feel like it though.” He sat there awkwardly while she finished her drink. “Now what?”

“We show you to your room, make sure you get a good meal in you, and get you in front of an alchemist to check how compatible you are to what we have in stock. Some people just don’t respond well to all forms of magic, or they respond overly aggressively. And we can ‘deal’ with both, but there are significant limits in what can be done safely without proper planning and analysis. Maybe a journey or two to find additional reagents to help reduce the side effects. You have a bag?”

Adrian lifted the strap on the canvas sack he was carrying. “Excellent. Any spare clothes?”

“Umm… a linen shirt and pair of hose.”

“You’re going to need some more. We’ll provide it for you. And that means we’re going to talk to the accountant. Well, a bit sooner than expected. Can’t have you ruining your only clothing with bloodstains.”

“… You’re aggressive.”

“You decided to volunteer to fight and die for the entertainment of people you don’t know and probably won’t remember your name by the time the sand’s dry. You need to be aggressive in this career.”

“Fair enough. What’s next?”

***

The room appeared to be designed after a monk’s cloister. Tiny, wasn’t a door, just a curtain. There was a window that lit up the hallway, aligned to the East, making it that much easier to wake up in the morning. A few other cells were clearly occupied. But their inhabitants were out dealing with other stuff. And it was far better than anything Adrian had ever experienced.

“Everything you expect?”

“I… don’t need to share the bed with anyone?”

“Nope.”

“And this is my bed? Rope frame?

“Yep.”

“And I have two mattresses?”

“Straw with dried lavender, then a flop mattress. We’ll get you a feather mattress after your first fight.”

“… The ground’s a little cold…”

“Yeah, we don’t do rushes. Multiple floors mean we need a chimney, otherwise this place becomes unbreathable. Plus a lot of us are too tall and stand over the smoke horizon. I basically need to crawl around whenever I go home.”

“How rich are all of y’all?!”

“I wouldn’t call it rich. It’s just the best way of dealing with churn. Especially when you’re worried about disease. You also need some separation when you’re just dealing with people you might not be that familiar with. Or rapidly hitting instincts. Don’t throw boots at the new recruits howling at the moon. They don’t mean it.”

Adrian dropped his bag on his bed. He was still mildly stunned that it was his bed. He looked back at the oversized orc.

“Now what?”

“Alchemist, then food. Or food than alchemist?” She offered him a choice

“I’m not that hungry, not sure if I could eat even if I wanted to. A… I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

“Alright let’s head to the much lower stress mutagenic testing laboratory.”

***

It was located outside, in the bright sunlight, surrounded by potent smelling herbs and a small aqueduct bringing water in off the main line. Casks of wine and some distillery equipment could be seen while, behind an iron grate, a number of bottles with alchemical symbols sat. Some of them glowed slightly, others ate light itself, some radiated heat, some were frosty cold, and others were locked away in their own little box for extra protection. The iron cage had an unusual design, every single metal bar was a single band that went entirely around, then welded to the next one in the line. It was one cage of metal, presenting no weaknesses, careful cold beaten inlay allowing further grounding of magic energy. Deep spikes, driven into sand, acted to ground the magic and return it to the earth, helping the reagents and less magical herbs grow better.

A number of seats, with various restraints, were on a metal grate over the aqueduct outflow into the river.

“More… magical grounding?” He asked, looking at it inquisitively.

“Sort of, but it’s also just easier to clean. Some of the processes mean loss of bowel control or restraints for over 18 hours. The magic grounding helps, presumably, but it’s more sanitary.”

“… that’s less reassuring than I hoped.”

“Can’t help you there. I just give you the unvarnished truth.”

“There was a lot of varnishing in those chairs.”

“Oh, I know. They’re great.” She patted it fondly. “It’s designed to allow the widest range of bodyforms to safely shift over time. And the engineer who designed it loves building it up for new challenges.”

“If you’re done gushing out over how well I set up my little operation, how can it help you?” An older looking person wearing the robe of an alchemist asked, looking up from where he was writing on a wax tablet.

“We have a new recruit!” Secunda said proudly.

The alchemist sighed. “Did you talk to… anyone in administration? Or the guildmaster?”

“For once, yeah. We’re down to below the minimum complement for the opening games in 3 months. Which means that we need literally anyone we can get off the streets.” Secunda said. “All the normal spots were a ghost town. The Gran Melee has most of the hopefuls going to the other side of the world.”

“Wait wait wait. What the hell is going on?” Adrian interrupted.

“Did you think she was just grabbing you for your innate greatness?” The alchemist asked. “No, it’s a job.”

“… ok, that’s a bit harsh.” Secunda said. “You wanted to experience all this…. I had a reason to offer it.”

“… alright so… what can I get halfway around the world?”

“Not much more.” Secundua said. “The Gran Melee is mostly aimed at… new fighters who aren’t expected to live. It’s a glorification of… the ruler… not of the fighters.”

“And here?”

“… not that different, but you’re more likely to live, and I’m going to do my damn best to keep you alive.”

“And I’m not.” The alchemist said.

“Meaning?” Secunda asked flatly.

“We don’t have the resources to do a full transformation at my standard.” The alchemist said. “Last season hit my budget hard after all the payouts.”

“Excuse me?” Adrian asked.

“We don’t have dragon, we don’t have dinosaur, we don’t have sea serpent, and we don’t have arch demon. We only have what we can get ourselves. Orc, Amazon, ghoul, werebear, and werewolf. I’m not touching vampire with how the crypt looks. I warned them about this last year, I’m not doing it again this year.”

“… alright…” Secunda seemed a tad conflicted. “So… Adrian… part of the issue is that we’re in… a not great position. Shit has happened and we’ve lost a lot of resources. Would you be willing to-”

“Yes.”

“… Are you sure? You haven’t even heard what you’re being offered.”

“Yes. This is my one chance to try for my dreams. I’ll go for it. I expected to die in the ring. I want to do it properly.”

“… are you suicidal?”

“No? Probably not? But… who cares? My parents kicked me out of my house. I don’t really know anybody here. I don’t have anywhere to go. This is my best chance. I’m going to take it.”

“Would you be ok with-”

“Yes.”

“Please let me finish.”

“Alright.”

“The easiest thing we can do is supplement you as an orc. Like me. You’ll be competitive up to the regional range, but we’ll need to fight together to try to reach imperial or beyond. And potentially get dosed at that point with additional enhancements.”

“Yes.”

“… You know, you saying yes doesn’t make me feel more comfortable that you want this.”

“I want to show my parents that I’m able to provide for myself. I want to show my sweetheart that she said no for the wrong reasons. She wasn’t… wrong, but she didn’t see me. And I want to be me. I want to fight next to you and win. Dose me with anything. Let’s do this shit.”

“… Alchemist, you heard the man, let’s start getting going.”

He stood up, and stretched, as Adrian got into the chair, hesitantly putting his wrists through the restraints. Adrian heard the alchemist walk up behind him and flinched, expecting an injection or something. He felt a brush against his neck, and something thick and wet.

The alchemist stared intensely, waiting for one of several negative reactions to occur. The strip tingled, feeling weirdly good. The alchemist walked over to his work bench, mixing something up. The sound of something clacking filled the midmorning sunlight. Adrian was trying to control his breathing, and he heard footsteps again.

“Here.” The alchemist said, giving the startled human a thick protein shake.

“Just drink this? … I don’t need to be restrained?”

“Not unless you’re into that. Orc shifting is a bit easier than most. Just make sure you follow Secunda’s nutrition requirements so you don’t destroy your body. She’s gone through all this so she knows the limitations pretty well. Didn’t notice any of the normal signs of rejection, but come back if you start to sneeze or break out in hives.”

“… you know…” Adrian sighed, and took a deep gulp of the shake. “… I was going to complain but this tastes pretty good. Salty and savory. Maybe a bit… intense?”

Secunda was out of sight and blushing hard, trying keep calm. The cute human drinking transformative orc essence was… affecting her more than she expected.

“Alright, let’s get some food in you and start getting some workouts in so your muscles don’t tear themselves from your bones.” Secunda said, after he’d finished the first drink.

“Just one moment.” The alchemist said. “Need to check compatibility on a few other aspects.”

He had out a series of essences, and gently applied a strip of each along part of Adrian’s arm in a specific order with a clean probe.

“If any start burning or your skin melts off, tell me.”

“… alright. Is that a risk with the jug of orc essence I just drank?”

“Not really. Low chance.”

“Alright then… I’m… going to go follow Secunda…” Adrian said. The alchemist waved and headed back to his studies.

***

The grand hall was smoky, warm, and lined with muscular beasts having a good time. The food was pretty simple, mostly stews and boiled grains, but there were cauldrons of them. All simmering away happily, smelling well flavored, ladled out by a dragonkin who was missing a leg. Something of a retirement plan for the gladiatorial clan apparently.

He seemed happy, giving advice, listening to people, and sitting down to chat with Adrian as the small human hesitantly stood there.

“So, in from the farms?” He asked, loading the young man up with an oversized bowl.

“Yes sir.”

“Family problems?”

“… yes sir.”

“Heh, me too. Said I would become a dragon. Made it halfway there. Used to be a kobold, still send most of my money to my parents. They visit every year.”

“That’s… nice… How did that happen?”

“Well… I did pretty well for a while. Then I made a mistake. And another. I made one more mistake and decided to stick around here. But it’s one of my better mistakes. And it means that I get to listen to people who need to be heard. Even if they don’t know it.”

“Like me?”

“I… don’t think so. You know what you want. You’re driven. And you have someone who’s willing to help you.

“… umm… you sure? I don’t feel that way.”

“Kid, you’re here. You’re willing to try. You’ve committed to something outside your normal comfort. That’s drive. You’ll get it. And I’ll be here to help you lick your wounds whenever you suffer a setback.”

“… thanks… umm… that means a lot.” Adrian blinked some tears out of his eyes.

“Go eat, and don’t forget to record your numbers. Always feels good to track how you’ve been and where you are now.” Adrian headed towards an open slot on the tables.

“Hey Secunda, got a new apprentice?”

“Something like that.”

“Orc?”

“Probably. At least before the Imperial Games.”

“You ok with that?”

Secunda shrugged. “… it’s hot. Haven’t done this before.” Her shorts stirred, hiding something thick and heavy.

“You told him yet?”

“… no. Should I? It’s been alchemically reduced…”

“How would you feel in his place?”

“… not great. I suspect. Or I’d find it hot. Umm…” She looked down at herself, all seven feet of built biceps, defined abs, hefty thighs, and well calloused hands and feet. “… I would find it hot if I knew about it.”

“And…?”

“I’ll tell him about it.”

“Good girl.” He ladled out a bowl for her. “I’ve always admired that you kept your center here. A few haven’t.”

“Thanks Quartz. You’re nearly as clear as your name.”

“Trust me, it took me a long time to realize what I was supposed to do. And why.” He smiled, patting her on the head. It felt nicer than she expected. “Keep being yourself. And don’t lower yourself to where you’re worried.”

She nodded, feeling a little choked. Then walked over to sit next to Adrian. “Hey… umm… Adrian.”

Adrian looked up. “Yeah?” He asked, face covered in protein rich gruel.

“I… just wanted to make sure what was going on. You know that drink you had? Umm… it came from me.”

“… I sort of assumed something like that?”

“There’s… only a few fluids that are capable of… passing on a being’s… essence.”

“… please don’t tell me the drink was your pee.”

“NO! Umm… mixture of milk and cum.”

“… you make milk? You have a kid?”

“No. It’s… hormonal. You body doesn’t really… settle down. We don’t know how to like… direct everything that well…”

“… so when I go to the alchemist… he…?”

“Well… he separates out some of the materials, but it’s mostly just extracting some… preexisting materials. Orcs are… kinda innately magical. But they’re magical because of what happened to them. They were changed… from a race of elves. And they kept some of that change. They can spread their gift. It’s not as… aggressive as werewolves or the like… but-”

One of the werewolves made an anguished whine.

“Oh shut up Devon. You know what I mean.”

Devon the timberwolf’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and he returned to his meal.

The two ate in silence for a moment.

“… why do you say they?”

“What?”

“If they changed, and you changed, why aren’t you one of them?”

“Umm… look… it’s complicated.”

Adrian stared at her, waiting.

“I don’t have a good answer. But well…” She gestured a bit hopelessly, not sure where to go. “I… don’t feel like this is… me? I am still that angry redhead archer. Not the furious black haired battleaxe berserker.”

“So… what? I need to suck your cock or your boobs?”

She jumped, and her shaft jumped a moment later, pushing its way out of her shorts. It was thick, dark green, deeper colored than the rest of her body, the head almost black, and beading with a thick fluid that steamed slightly in the warm air. Adrian’s eyes went wide as he took it in. Fed by a thick network of bulging veins, some spiraling onto her lower abdomin, the massive hammer was nearly as long as her forearm, with a pair of balls that were pretty close to the side of her fists. Definitely not Adrian’s. For either.

“Nice. I think the horse on my farm was smaller.”

“… you’re ok with this?” She asked, confused.

“Hey, it’s no worse than what I’ve gone through today. And, hell, dicks are hot.”

“Is that you saying you’re gay?”

“That’s me saying dicks are hot. And so are your boobs.”

Secunda blushed, her green face turning grey.

“… You ok? Did I go too far?”

“No… umm… green skin, red blush, I turn grey. I was a bit embarrassed. And a bit turned on…” She admitted.

“So, is there a reason why I can’t get my dose from the tap?”

“… you’re an eager slut aren’t you?”

“Only because I realize the value of source.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a complement.”

“Oh it most certainly is.” Adrian purred.

“Can you two shut up and kiss?” One of the other fighters shouted across the room.

Adrian was shaking a bit, his hose tented.

Secunda’s eyes were wide, her top tented across her nipples, her shaft hard, her slit wet, and blushing. She felt like all the blood in her body was anywhere except her head.

Adrian leaned forward and pulled her close. She… could have resisted but… she decided to wrap her arms around him join in. He kissed a tusk, then moved to the center of her lips, pushing a bit too hard, panting, clearly overwhelmed and scared, his cock throbbing against her thigh, as he moved closer.

His head flooded with her musky, intense, sweaty scent.

Hers flooded with the smell of cattle dung and hay. He really needed a bath. She ignored that and gently started rubbing him, hand completely engulfing his length.

He was panting against her, head swimming, not sure where to go. She felt him slow down and stop.

“Come on cutie, you’ve started fires you’re going to put out.” She said, standing up and lifting him with her, to general cheers, as her hard shaft bounced off her abs.

“Don’t forget to feed him!” Someone shouted. She glared at them, grabbed her food with one hand, and poured it down her throat. Then did the same with the Adrians. She ripped off her top, proud, heavy breasts bouncing with the sudden release, nipples hard and milk beading at the tips.

The great hall broke out in cheering as Secunda’s and Adrian’s clothes fell off behind them. They left the hall, both nearly naked in the setting sunlight.

“Are… you sure about all this?” Adrian asked, dick throbbing, a droplet of pre falling onto his waist.

“Absolutely not.” She murmured, nibbling on his ear and tasting his blood. Her teeth were… a tad sharper than the human body was meant to deal with. He didn’t pull away. “Sorry!”

“Umm… no… that’s… kinda hot.” He managed, trying not to cum. “So… I don’t know if my bed will fit us…”

“We’re heading to mine.” She said firmly, carrying him through another door and into a much more private chamber, with a bed large enough for two. She laid him down, and opened the wooden shutter.

He saw her for the first time. Over seven feet tall. Every muscle defined. Green skin just making her alluring, her black mohawk haircut making the former Imperial seem exotic. She was freckled, darker dots showing where her former fair skin had been slightly darker. Her chest was… big. Each one would overflow his palms, almost looking painfully swollen, clear dark veins showing how overpressured they were. Moving down, a layer of thick hair started building below her abs, ringing her genitals. Those were hard to miss. Her thick dripping shaft dwarfed his. He couldn’t even guess by how much, and her balls churned as a thick fluid dripped from her cock, opaque and viscous, smearing against her abs, nearly reaching her breasts. Her thighs and legs were built, and she tossed her boots to the side revealing slightly clawed toes on strong feet.

She was… capable. For everything she wanted to do. He gulped, his penis harder than it had ever been in his life.

She looked down at him. Small, pale, and half starved. He was leaking everywhere, eyes wide. She was pretty sure that putting her dick anywhere near his ass would probably kill him. Probably accidentally. So…

She lay down on the bed next to him, and snuggled him close, chest close to his head, as one hand wrapped around his achingly hard shaft.

“Good boy. Cum for me.” She murmured into his ear. His entire body went rigid as his hips jerked and he unloaded, covering her hand with spurt after spurt of cum. He slowly relaxed, gasping, staring at her. She raised the hand to her mouth and slowly licked it clean, smiling, staring at him.

“We’ll need to get you more fruit in your diet. But first…” She said, pressing her breast to his mouth. “I’ve always wanted to see if I could orgasm from nipple play.”

He started sucking, his head filling with her sweet, intense, salty flavor, the milk burning down his throat and coiling in his belly, his body slowly warming and tingling.