FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The inn at the end of the road By Strega

Miss Paula ran her inn with a firm hand. The food was good, the upstairs rooms were always clean, and the beer and wine weren't watered. Alcohol was served only between noon and nine in the evening and anyone showing signs of getting messily drunk was politely asked to leave. It wasn't the fanciest place to stay but it was safe, it was reliable, and that's all some people needed. Their little burg, all five hundred of them, was lucky enough to be in civilized lands. They could concern themselves with growing food and feeding travelers, not so much with wars or bandits.

Paula herself slept on a narrow bed in the back of her closet-sized office. She contributed to the woodworkers and plumbers putting in a water wheel and clay pipes to run fresh water to the little town's houses but that project was in its infancy and like everyone else the inn relied on water brought in in barrels from the river - enough to cook and clean with and enough for a hot bath if you fronted the few coppers that cost.

It was chamber pots and bronze bathtubs for them and maybe the eventual promise of running water. At least they had the local temple to bless the water and cast healing, so diseases like fluxes were a rarity, and the lands around were safe enough that they rarely heard of bandits or about someone being eaten by a monster. The Five Villages, including Adelburg, were under the protection of a powerful druid and the creatures in the woods around were largely of the natural sort. Not harmless necessarily, but natural. The weirdest thing most of them saw in a week was the huge fox-taur who trotted into town to deliver and pick up mail or the druid passing by on the back of his enormous badger mount. Rumor had it the fox and badger were a thing but then rumor had it the fox had a "thing" with pretty much every female monster around. Still, he ate bandits but not villagers, and that could only be a good thing. (Except to the bandits, naturally).

The inn saw a motley collection of customers from human to less so. As long as they were well behaved Paula didn't care if you were a two foot tall gnome or a seven-foot gnoll or anything in between. The one thing she wouldn't tolerate was fooling around in the inn's main room. If you wanted to more than hold hands and cuddle a bit you'd best do it in your upstairs room, or take it home if you didn't have a room.

There was one little group she did let get drunk there, though, and as she sat at the little table with Mrs. Tailor, Mrs. Wainwright and Mrs. Cooper, the four of them playing cards for coppers, the subject of her marital status came up.

"You need a man around the place," Edna Wainwright said. "Someone to kick the staff around when they're lazy."

"What she needs is someone to share that little bed with her," Alice Tailor replied. "And someone human. Not one of those...other people who come here."

"That praka bard, Fastpaw I think his name was, was giving her the eye," said Gerty Cooper. "And those little raccoons -"

"We know, Gerty," said Edna, for they had all heard more times than they could remember about Gerty's youthful exploits. " 'They're hung better than you'd think'. That bard is married anyway, nice half elf named Myrtle."

"No raccoons," Alice snapped. "And not that foxman stops by here. Not one of those filthy wolverine or cat or hyena people, however well they're hung," she said preemptively as Gerty opened her mouth. "You're a young woman, Paula. You need a real man. Someone who can give you sons."

"I had a real man," Paula said calmly. "He left. Now the inn is mine and I am happy with that."

"What if he comes back?" Edna said. "What then?"

"Hopefully he won't," Paula said, knowing perfectly well he wouldn't. "Good riddance."

This wasn't the first time they'd hashed this all out and it wouldn't be the last but Paula didn't mind. The other three were habitual gossips and with their help she made sure absolutely everyone in the village 'remembered' that her husband left her, as opposed to what really happened. Every so often she heard from a traveler that they'd seen him in a distant town but she always just shrugged.

"You still need a man," Alice said as she left, quite tipsy, a couple of hours later, and she shot a shrewd look at Paula. She was sure her friend must have a lover or lovers squirreled away somewhere but didn't know who it was. One of the serving boys? The cook? Random visitors to the inn? Paula just smiled and saw her out.

Paula did have a lover, one she occasionally shared with others. She had a particular way she kept it secret, though, one her gossipy friends hadn't penetrated.

A few nights later they had a late arrival in the form of a minor noblewoman, Countess Carla Redfort from over in Ulek. Tall and willowy and with more than a touch of elven blood and not at all fond of her short, ugly but very rich husband. Paula saw her guards settled away in one of the upstairs rooms and vouched for her safety. Tired of the irritable countess's moods the men went at once to playing cards and ordering food from the staff. They left the two women to chat at a corner table.

"I swear, Paula," said the countess, for it wasn't the first time she'd been by this way. "He sends me off on these 'trade missions' so he can have his mistress in behind my back. I just know it."

She passed the bottle of wine back to Paula, who refilled her own glass.

"Diplomatic marriages," Paula said with the authority of someone whose own arranged marriage had ended very badly, "Are held together by mistresses, And lovers for the woman too. A little friction in the right place eases the friction elsewhere, you might say."

Sometimes she felt guilty about what had happened to her husband. But not often.

"Easy for you to say," said Carla. "He's a jealous man. Word would get out."

"Would it," said Paula, and an hour later, after several more glasses, she silently rose and beckoned the countess to follow her.

Carla shot her a quizzical look as she was led down into the basement and into the very back of the storage cellar, but she'd known Paula for years now and any suspicions she might have were blunted by alcohol. She just raised an eyebrow when her friend pushed in a knothole and leaned her body against the wall. A section of wooden planking and the stone behind it swiveled on well oiled hinges, revealing a narrow passage.

"When Oberth the mighty, or so he called himself, made himself lord of the lands hereabout ten years back, and made strong drink illegal, this is how my husband got it in," Paula said. She took a brass rod from a niche and murmured a command, to be rewarded by a soft glow from its tip.

The countess finally spoke up as Paula closed the secret door behind them. There was nothing but the dark passage and the door, which at least was obvious from this side.

"Paula, I trust you, but you're going to have to explain what we're doing."

Paula smiled and waved her forward with the glowing wand. In its light the countess saw rough stone walls cut back at intervals, empty shelves and other signs things were once stored here. A couple of empty barrels still smelled of rum.

"The inn is built against a hill that was once mined for silver," Paula said as she led them down the passage. "When my husband bought it the previous owner, for a fee, showed him this secret way in. It was in disrepair but he eventually shored up the unstable parts. During Oberth's glorious fifteen-month reign it was very useful but after that dragon swallowed him it got dusty in here...until I took over. I found a use for it myself."

For several minutes there was just the slap of shoe leather against the stone and the flow of magical light over irregular walls. Eventually they arrived at a door which looked much like the previous secret entrance, as seen from the inside. This one was easy to open from its back side too, once its heavy bolts were thrown, and the countess found herself in a wooden shack.

It was a rustic building with a door on one side - locked with a deadbolt, she noted - a little cast iron stove, a surprisingly large mattress with a linen coverlet, a few crates and a little cabinet. There was nothing else, just the low ceiling, strong walls without windows, and the two of them.

As the countess took in her surroundings she began aware of a sound. It was deep, slow breathing, with a hint of growl, that seemed to come from one wall. Before she could ask about it Paula tapped the wood of that wall with her fingernails and with a grunt whatever creature was beyond it woke up.

"Paula," said the countess, but her friend just held her hand over a little hole in the wall. The countess's eyes went wide as a remarkable long and broad tongue slithered in through the port and licked her wrist.

"I have a lover no one knows about," Paula said, and reached without fear through the hole to rub...something. There were several of the little portholes, the countess noted. They were probably originally installed as firing ports for crossbows, and each had a stout little hinged cover. Only the one Paula had her arm in was open.

Paula withdrew her hand and the tongue followed it back into the room, along with a lusty growl.

"Good gods," the countess said as the whole shed creaked. Something massive was leaning against it. "What is your lover? A minotaur? An ogre?"

"You aren't the first I've brought here," Paula said. "You don't know who is outside, and my lover thinks it's just me in here. So if you were to..." she mimed lifting her skirt and backing up against the hole.

By all rights she should grab the light and flee back up the tunnel, the countess knew. Instead she thought about her ugly little husband, no doubt in bed right now with another woman - or man! - and stepped forward. It only took a moment to draw her pantaloons down, lift her skirt and back her rump against the wall.

Her eyes went wide for the second time as the tongue slid in through the porthole. It stroked wetly up her thigh, moving unerringly toward her sex, and a cry was forced out of her as the powerful organ slid in. No man could have such a tongue, she thought briefly, and wondered again what sort of monstrous thing was on the other side of the wall. Only briefly, though, because whatever Carla's lover was, he was well trained. The strong tongue pushed in, then licked upward, filling her with its saliva as it stroked over her clit.

For perhaps a minute, two at most, she withstood the powerful licks, the tongue withdrawing only to return with more saliva. It dripped down her leg, mixed with her own juices, for never in her life had the countess received treatment like this. It was she who pulled away, yelping as she came, but wanting more - much more than this.

"Could he," the countess said between pants, "I'd like to see -"

Carla scraped the planks with her fingernails again, and from the outside came an echo as great claws scratched at the shack. Up and up the wall went the scratching until whatever monster it was hooked its claws up onto the eight-foot-high roof, and as it did, even with the dark outside, there was a glimpse of dark fur - or hair? - through the port. The tip of a hairy foreskin or sheath popped through the hole and the countess took an involuntary step back as a wet pink tip as thick as her ankle unsheathed.

"This is your lover?!" The countess exclaimed. It was not much of a surprise that the enormous cock had nothing of humanity about it. With or without foreskin-sheath no human member looked like -that-, and she didn't know enough about monsters to say what might be on the other end of that huge shaft and the furry balls just visible through the port. "This fits?"

"If I want it badly enough it does," and Paula gripped the thing halfway down its sheath. At once the shed began to creak and claws scraped the wood as the monster began to thrust against her hand. The countess found herself reaching for the great shaft as well and the monster began to growl rhythmically as it thrust through their grip. Its massive cock slithered forth as the sheath retracted, slick and oily. She could even smell it. It was gross and feral but it was thick and long and hard, too.

"I can get him to stay still if you'd like to suck, or we could just do this until he cums, but you should stand to the side if we do or it'll get all over you." Paula blinked quizzically as instead the countess stepped forward.

"You'd better be sure," she said, but the countess was very certain she was. The vertical studs the outer wall was nailed onto made fine handholds and she gripped the smooth wood as she turned her back on the wall.

Paula's hand guided the monstrous shaft as the thing beyond the wall thrust and the countess eased herself backward. With her friend guiding the cock the first impact was a blunt push against her sex, but her to her surprise, the moment that happened the thrusting stopped. A deep growl vibrated through the wall and the countess visualized great claws reaching down to tug her onto the cock, but it remained still as she gradually forced herself onto it. Paula's lover was well trained indeed.

The monstrous thing entering the countess's body forced a yelp out of her, but with the determination of a woman who'd borne two children and knew such a thing might enter her she pressed herself further over it. Somehow the creature behind the wall knew when she reached her limit, maybe via some signal from Paula, and suddenly the thrusting started up again. The thickness of the wall and the grip her friend had around the base of the cock kept too much from entering her and now it was sliding in and out, so huge that her sex sucked tight around it and seemed to be pulled off her body each time it withdrew, only to be pushed back in with a squelch an instant later.

It would never have worked had she not been so ready. The pain quickly passed and was replaced by a growing warmth as she rose toward a second climax. With Paula rubbing the furry balls through the port and stroking what would not fit in the countess with her other hand the monster grew as aroused as she was, and the growl took on a shuddering quality as the thrusts grew short and sharp.

Knowing what was about to happen and not caring what half-breed thing she might birth afterward Carla moaned and thrust back against it. The both came at the same instant, the squeeze of her climax gripping the monster cock as great ropes of semen spurted into her. The shuddering growl rose to a roar and and the shack trembled as the creature humped the wall, enthusiastically spending himself in her. Only slowly, only reluctantly did the countess finally lean forward and let the great member slide out. A trickle of heat flowed down her inner thigh as she did and Paula was quick to sop it up with a rag taken from the little cabinet. Various jars in there presumably contained lubricants or other aids but the countess was too distracted to read the labels before the door was slid shut.

The growl beyond the walls settled into heavy panting, and soon the claws scraped down the boards and a greasy black animal nose appeared at the port. Definitely a minotaur, the countess thought as the beast once more licked Paula's hand.

"Don't worry," her friend said in response to an unspoken question. "He can't get you pregnant. I'd know by now if he could. It's just me, my lover, and whatever friend I bring here."

"May I meet him," the countess said, but Paula shook her head.

"Best neither of you know who the other is. It might be a werewolf out there, a minotaur, one of the hairier ogres, one of the wolverine-people playing dumb. Maybe even a gnoll. You don't know, and if he knows there are two of us in here he doesn't care. Sometimes I have him in here if the weather is bad and I feel sorry for him," Paula said, and now the countess noticed the coarse brown hairs on the bed. "But it's best you not see him. All you know is you feel better now, and you deserve it, doesn't you?"

That she did, and when she had recovered Paula summoned the long tongue in to lick her sex clean, inside and out. Afterward, fingers buried in her sex (joined by a smooth rubber toy Paula fetched from the cabinet, a toy no more modeled after a human cock than was her lover's), the countess knelt down and returned the favor. With a jaw-cracking yawn she wrapped her lips around the monster's tip, and three hands pumped the shaft as the thing growled and snarled, but did not thrust, lest it jam itself down her throat.

Knowing her lover, Paula tapped Carla's shoulder and motioned her head to one side as the growls grew hoarse and shuddery. The countess did not move a muscle, and thought of her ugly husband as she swallowed a great wad of hot monster spunk. Only a few drops escaped, and she was brave enough to let the tongue come in through the porthole afterwards and wash them away. She could see the yellowed fangs past the tongue, the rubbery black lips, but it was too dark to make out what the thing was. It was not a man, she had ample evidence of that, but beyond that she could not say.

When the monster was breathing steadily outside, calm and sleepy, Paula checked the countess over for any missed evidence of sex and then led her past the secret door and back down the passage. Less than two hours had passed but the countess was in a far better mood when she returned to the inn than when she left it.

"I think," she whispered as Paula opened the second secret door, "That I won't complain so much the next time my husband sends me away. Your inn is on the road to a surprising number of destinations, after all."

"I'll be happy to see you again," Paula whispered back. "And, I think, so will he."

With Carla settled in her room the owner of the inn checked the clock and decided she could sleep elsewhere and still be back before the inn opened once more. Soon she was through the secret door, hardly needing the glow of the light-wand.

She knew her lover would wake when he heard the bolts on the second secret door thrown, but he feigned sleep until his keen ears told him she was alone. Then there was movement outside the hut and a shaggy face was waiting, level with her own, when she opened the hut's door.

"Good evening, dear," she said with a smile, and made way for the huge bear as it squeezed into the hut. Outside there was a lean-to under which he slept and where she sometimes joined him, but there was a chill in the air that she wouldn't like. They knew each other's habits well after five years.

It was a stroke of luck that the secret passage from the inn she inherited led so close to the meadow the old bear called his own. It made it much less likely they'd be found out, for though it was not unheard-of to have a monster lover, being more-or-less married to an actual bear would raise more than a few eyebrows.

The bear rumbled at her affectionately and sprawled out on the bed, hanging over at each end. It was a big mattress but it had limits and so would a bedframe, which is why it rested flat on the stone floor. Fifteen hundred pounds of grizzly would splinter any normal bed to matchsticks, especially if he grew excited.

He was calm now, but he smelled his lover's lust. He knew perfectly well from the first sniff and the first taste that it wasn't Paula he serviced earlier, and as she stepped forward his broad snout rose between her legs. It did not take much licking at all to get her wet and he rolled on his back, letting her slide down and tease him erect. It was much safer to have her on top, no matter how careful he might be when he mounted her. She was small, and fragile, but she was his lover, and the old bear growled his approval as she impaled herself on his unsheathed cock.

There had been a time he was lord of the woods around, and had all the bear sows he cared to breed. He was old and creaky now, not as swift as the powerful young bears he'd have to fight for that right, but his balls still worked just fine and he was content with his human lover. Lately she'd brought another woman or two, like the one tonight, and the old bear happily fucked them too, but he always came back to her.

Paula groaned as she took his thickness, for no matter how many times she did it always felt liable to split her in twain. It amazed her that other women, unpracticed, managed this feat. One traveling saleslady had taken the massive bear cock right up her ass! Lube or not, that had been a terrifying sight.

Five years ago she'd had a husband, a jealous man who beat her for the least imagined interest in other men. She fled to the woods, finding the old bear there and thinking to end it all in his maw. Instead he'd let her sleep at his side, and return as she willed, and became her shaggy friend and protector. Her husband didn't know that their relationship was chaste and when he caught them together his temper snapped. The old bear did not take it well when he attacked her and soon the bear burped and her husband was no more. Only then did they make love.

A few others, thieves and other ne'er-do-wells, had met similar fates in the jaws of her lover. When she knew they deserved it she'd let them find the secret passage, following them when they'd had time to meet them bear. Her lover would pin them beneath his huge paws and only when she gave the word would his jaws creak wide. He was placid and loving but he trusted her and if she thought someone was evil, why, that someone soon became fat on his flanks. A thief or two was just the thing to fatten him up for the winter.

Paula had all the lover she needed. More than she needed; she moaned as she rocked forward and back, taking perhaps half of his great shaft into herself. There was a limit to her depth and she couldn't gape wide enough to swallow his cock, nor was she brave enough to let him straighten out her lower intestine like the saleslady. It was still enough for the bear, and more than enough for her, and when they finished she'd sleep on his warm furry belly, wake at dawn and head off to work at the inn.

After, she thought as the old bear's growls grew shuddery and a familiar shiver made his hindpaws twitch, a bit of sunrise fun. He might be old but there was plenty of vigor in her lover's furry balls still.

Maybe the countess, or the others, wouldn't care. She kept the secret out of habit more than anything else, for you could only reveal it once. Then the cat - or bear, in this case - would he out of the bag.

With a shriek Paula came, driven over the edge by the hot bear seed spurting into her, and as she settled down on his warm furry belly to rest she decided secrecy was the right choice. Let the countess think she'd swallowed werewolf cum, or minotaur, or whatever. The lonely women who ended up wrapped around the old bear's cock were happy, the bear was happy, she was happy, and there was no need to over-complicate things. Sometimes a woman just wanted a cock, and if they didn't care whose shaft they were riding, who was she to question?

"A young bear, maybe a son of mine," he rumbled, "Has seen my play against the side of this box and wonders if he might join. Others could be interested, too." He could not speak her language or she his, but after years of learning from each other they got by.

"There's an idea," Paula mumbled sleepily. "Several holes, several bears...maybe several women inside."

And were the sides of the shack close enough together to have two bears in a woman at the same time, one behind her and one in her mouth? It sounded like something she'd like to try.

It might be time to start charging a fee for letting people meet her lover, Paula considered as she settled down to sleep on his belly. She often had some coin from the pockets of the ones who ended up inside the bear. It could be that she might get some from the ones the bear ended up inside, as well.