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My Night with a Scav

The story you're about to read is true. I am not proud of my part in it, nor am I fool enough to attach my real name to this tale. Nevertheless, I feel it my duty as both a human and a male to relay these events to my fellow-men who might someday find themselves in similar circumstances. What they choose to do with this information is entirely up to them. I only present this as a cautionary tale on what to expect should you be so inclined to follow the trail I blazed.

While not a member of any of the great Houses myself, nevertheless I am attached to one by way of my ability to form coherent sentences occasionally. It was in this capacity that I chanced to find myself summoned to take dictation on a matter that does not directly relate to this story. I had completed my shorthand of this meeting and was returning to my temporary residence to commit my notes in a more official and presentable format. (I was on retainer, far from my native abode at this time). Somehow I had misplaced myself in the rather large and labyrinthian building and was trying to scry my way out of the place when I happened upon her.

Now before I go any further, and at the risk of perhaps further identifying myself, I must tell you of my own circumstances. As mentioned before, I am a scribe of sorts - under the auspices of one of the greater Houses but given a somewhat more lenient employ than most due to my normally reliable nature, accuracy of transcription, but primarily my ability to keep my mouth firmly shut when required. As such, my social contacts were limited. I was unmarried and didn't greatly regret my lack of romantic attachments. Back home my benefactors - or more properly their good names - have opened more than a few doors in certain quarters when physical desires asserted themselves. Yet here I was a stranger in a strange land. I didn't anticipate any need for such companionship, however, and so was not prepared for the events that were soon to unfold.

As for yinglets themselves, frankly I'd always found them slightly disgusting, yet generally comedic. I suppose you could say I thought of them rarely if at all, and when I did I considered them somewhere between a buffoonish jester and an annoying neighbor's pet - yet a pet without the sense to be unable to speak.

But to be perfectly blunt, I don't believe I'd ever met a female Yinglet before. During my time at university we had of course been grounded in the various species, so I was aware of the physical differences between Yinglet sexes. The fluffier tail alone marked her as special, not to mention the overly-rounded thighs. But the breasts were a novelty I'd certainly never seen even in textbooks before.

Since my encounter, I've read a lot of recent scholarly treatises on the phenomenon. While rare, it seems to be rapidly becoming less-so. Many are the theories, especially given the egg-laying reproductive cycle of their race, as to why females of the kind seem to be generating more and more human-like breasts and other sexual manifestations. The consensus seems to be that there is some sort of natural selection at work here that favors more human-like (and therefore more naturally pleasing to the human eye) body forms. It's not my field of expertise, but it does interest me, and appears to be so.

Certainly it was for me. While I will admit to having had some sexual attraction to her based on her hindquarters alone, the sight of those all-too-human breasts in this unexpected place frankly brought me to full staff immediately. Suddenly the weeks without female companionship asserted themselves unmistakably.

She claimed to be practicing her spear dancing, and I have little doubt she was indeed doing so before I came upon the scene. But she invited me to watch, as she put it, "If you LIKE...".

Well, this story would be pointless if I were less than truthful with my own reactions. I did like. I "liked" a lot more than I should have, in fact, and I told her so. With no other pressing matters to attend to that evening, I made myself comfortable and watched her go through the motions of her dancing.

And those motions were indeed graceful. Yinglet prowess with spears is well documented, and I learned quickly that they are not without good cause. While at other times the species are clumsy at best, that was not what I was witnessing during her dance. Yet it also was clear that the spear dance was not purely ceremonial. It certainly had its own erotic aspects - in ways similar to our own burlesque dancers, in other ways even more blatant. It crossed my mind that perhaps this was more than a practice at spear-dancing. She was coming on to me!

Yet there was an innocence to her, and after watching for a good period of time, her oddly elongated arms and legs, her decidedly non-human tail... they became less and less foreign to my eyes. I began to see her less as a scav, and more as a female. Of course, I'm sure a large part of that was my own erection talking, but that's what was going through my mind at the time.

When finally she had finished, she was breathing hard and looking at me strangely. Her exhaustion was even more erotic - those heaving breasts, small though they were, I found incredibly attractive.

"You liked ze dance?" she asked me in that odd way as she hopped over to where I sat.

In fact, it would have been embarrassing for me to stand at that point, having "liked" her dance so much. It was fortunate that no one had come down the hallway where we talked.

"Very much so, little Yinglet. What is your name?"

"I am Mavel, sir. I am very glad to dance for you!"

I took her hand and shook it as I stood, my tumescence having receded enough to do so - I hoped.

"I'm very glad to have watched you, Mavel. You are very talented at spear dancing. But tell me, do you always dance naked?"

Suddenly her eyes went wide.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Sir! I forget about ze bra all ze time. The Matriarch always tells us girls with ze boobies to hide them. I am a stupid scav!"

"Don't say so, Mavel! I love your boobies. Besides, you didn't expect to see a human here, I expect. It's not your fault."

"Your spear was hard. You like my boobies?"

Now it was my turn to blush.

"Well, yes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to notice that."

"Oh, it's okay. You are a nice man. You wanna hump?

"Me? With you?!"

She shrugged, and I couldn't help notice the little jiggle it caused those tight breasts.

"All the boy yings want to hump when zeir spears get hard. I tell zem to hump-off. Ze matriarch doesn't want us to hump with zem unless she approves so we have better babies. But you wouldn't make me a baby. It would be okay. If you want to."

I looked down at the little Yinglet. She might have been a little taller than most, but even so she barely reached my shoulders as I stood. If that.

"Mavel, please don't take this the wrong way. But... we don't just hump each other the first time we meet! There are... protocols. And besides... you're a Yinglet! I'd break you!"

Now she smiled in a way that I found incredibly endearing. A knowing look that I think all females possess - a look as if to say, "You know nothing, you idiot male." It translated that way to my eyes anyway.

"Well," she began, turning away. "If you zink so. But zank you for saying nice words about my dancing. Maybe we will meet again?"

"Wait," I said, not knowing for sure what I was about to say next. My brain said it was crazy, dangerous and not just a little perverted. But other parts of me prevailed.

She turned back around, smiling back at me. "Hmm?"

"Mavel, I'm kind of lost in this big place. Do you think you could show me the way out?"

"Oh!" she said, but there was an expression of disappointment in her face. "Sure. Follow me!"

I took her hand as she passed by me, and she stopped cold, staring at it.

"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"

She looked up at me again, her eyes practically sparkling. "It is wonderfully okay. Are you sure you don't wanna hump? I zink you wouldn't break me!"

"Um... how about you just show me out. For now?"

"Okay!" she said, her demeanor now markedly improved.

So hand-in-hand we walked through the labyrinthian tunnels and eventually came out to the main entryway.

"Thank you so much, Mavel! You are a very special Yinglet and no scav at all!"

I left feeling very good, if maybe a bit blue-balled. Yes, my body may have been more than ready to "hump" with her, but it just would have been wrong in so many ways. I turned before leaving, waving back to her as she stood in the tunnel entrance, and she waved back - hopping up and down a little.

I had to admit that my attitude towards Yinglets had changed somewhat as I walked back to the inn I was staying at. She was a little weird, but somehow the species didn't look quite so strange to me anymore.

That night as I lay down to sleep, I thought of Mavel. The day had been warm, but the night was cool and I went to open the window to let in a breeze.

Though it was dark outside, I was on the ground floor and the light from the moon was more than ample to see the little yinglet.

"Mavel?" I whispered. Though she was dressed now - or at least as dressed as a typical yinglet gets - it was definitely her.

"Sir! I... I talked to the Matriarch. She didn't want me to come, but... it will be okay."

"How did you find me?" I asked, while taking her little arms and lifting her up through the window.

"You are Scribe [REDACTED]. It was easy to find out all about you, for someone smart like me!"

"So it seems! What are you doing here?" I asked, looking both ways out the window to ascertain that no one was around.

By the time I turned back, she was naked. Again.

"You couldn't hump me ze first time you met me. So. This is ze second time!"

"Mavel! I'm not sure about this. You're so small!"

She shrugged. "I can do a spear dance wizout my spear. A different kind of spear dance. Maybe with your spear?"

The candle flickered on the breeze but I was getting decidedly warmer.

She began to dance. It certainly was a different style of dance, and it dawned on me that I was probably watching some sort of yinglet mating ritual dance. It was hypnotic.

Yet as she danced, she somehow managed to take my shirt off. Not that I fought against it. A few minutes into her dance, I was stripping myself down to be honest.

This might be a good time, before I get into the physicality of that night, to describe myself a bit. I am not a big man. Scribes tend not to be. We tend to be bookish, in fact, and I am no exception. I was young enough to not yet need the spectacles that are commonplace for our lot, and I fancy myself as being somewhat good looking in a too-boyish way for my own preference. But I am not a big man. And I confess to you now that the same is true between my legs. I am, in fact, small down there. It has been something that I have been a bit sensitive about.

Oh, it works fine. The whores I've lain with would say the same. But of course they're paid to comfort you, so whether they are being honest or not is something the wise man doesn't concern himself with overmuch. In fact, they are probably relieved to mate with an easy-to-please man such as myself. So I don't think about what they may or may not say to their friends when I leave.

But this night, when I finally revealed myself fully to Mavel, I felt for the first time in my life that I was truly blessed to be the size I am.

Her dance stopped and she hopped over to me.

"Oh, sir! It's... perfect!"

"It's small. For us."

"I know zat silly man. But... no, you will not break me. I was a little worried, but I'm not worried anymore!"

"You've seen men before?"

She gave me that look again.

"You are a nice man. Not all men are so nice."

I looked down at her. "I'm sorry, Mavel."

"It is okay. I like men. But sometimes it is not good to be in ze wrong place. Zere are bad scavs too. I was stupid. I know bad scavs. I know how to keep zem away. I... had to find out about bad men. But let us not talk of that. Your spear is perfect!"

"You zink... I mean think so?"

She took my shaft into her hands, soft and warm and gentle. "It is shaped so... naughty!" she laughed quietly. "And zese," she said, cupping my balls. "Scavs don't have balls."

"Careful! They are..."

"Delicate," she smiled, finishing my thought. "I will try to be careful wis zem. What do you know of Yinglet females?"

I took her hands off my balls and she looked up at me.

"Nothing, Mavel. I'm not kidding. I literally know nothing of Yinglet females at all."

Rather than looking disappointed, her smile grew. "Oh! Zen it will be like ze first time! I will show you all about us. But... Sir..."

"Call me [REDACTED], Mavel."

"[REDACTED]. When we hump... I am very active. When I get close, I lose control. I don't zink anymore. I just hump. A lot. Fast. I might break you!"

I smiled back at her. "That sounds like fun!"

She hopped onto my lap then, giving me a surprisingly firm hug. "No more talk!" she said, putting a finger to my lips in a very human gesture.

But I pulled it away for a moment. "First... um... do you kiss?"

She shook her head. "Not really. But you can kiss my body! If you want. My tooth.. I can't take you in my mouth I zink. Maybe from the side?"

I hushed her this time. I needed no more urging. My body was already at full mast, and those breasts that had so fascinated me before were soon engulfed by my mouth and tongue while one hand reached her back and pulled them towards me. The other hand groped her other breast softly but firmly. Her nipples quickly stiffened, and I was in heaven knowing that her reaction was as human as any I had experience with. She liked my attention obviously, and she thrust them eagerly towards me. The moan that escaped her throat was only slightly higher pitched than a woman's would have been.

As she began to writhe above me, I felt a warmth around my navel. She was really getting into it, and soon I felt a droplet inch its way across my belly and curve it's way down to the bedding beneath me. That set me off, knowing she was truly as turned on as I was. It was better than the whores I'd been with, who always kept oil at the ready. Hers was her own oil, and it did not lie. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I felt her pull away from my mouth, sliding down my body. She stopped when she felt my cock press against her pussy, her face now directly in line with my own. I didn't see the face of a scav. I saw the face of Mavel, and she licked my own face. Her breath was surprisingly warm and sweet. Certainly she must have gargled or whatever Yinglets do, but it worked. I licked her back, literally licking her tongue. Hers was, of course, quite a bit longer than my own, but we shared an intimate kiss of tongues which was almost as sexy as the throbbing wetness rubbing itself against my penis.

Suddenly, as if she knew it was time, she thrust her tongue deep into my mouth and I sucked it strongly as she shifted her hips slightly. And then I was inside her tight Yingling pussy. She squeaked a little in pleasure as I slid in, and pulled away from my face, now sitting up and putting her full weight against my groin.

"Ohhhh..." she said, closing her eyes. "I can feel it. Can we just stay here for a minute? I just want to feel you inside me. I can feel your heartbeat inside my hole!"

I was barely able to speak at that moment. The thought of my little dick buried deep within this graceful Ying was doing a number on me. "Mavel. I think I'm about to burst already!"

She looked down at me, opened her eyes and smiled at me.

"Me too. Truly," she said softly. "Go ahead, my [REDACTED]. I will come wis you when I feel you pour yourself into me. We can hump more later. Squirt your ball-seed into me now, and I will come with you!"

With that, I felt her reach back and squeeze my balls gently. That did it. I felt the rhythmic pulse begin deep in my ass, and she must have felt my balls retract as they began to do their job as well, dancing to the same orgasmic beat.

I groaned and grabbed her waist, pulling her down over my throbbing manhood as far as she would go, wanting impossibly to thrust right up to her throat before my seed finally made its way out.

She squeezed my balls harder then and began rubbing herself back and forth across my crotch. I looked down, and in the candlelight could just make out the little nub of her clitoris as it rubbed itself against my pubic mound, long since slick with her juices.

My own orgasm was preordained moments before, but the sight of that little jewel sent me over the edge. I may have howled my lust, praying that the inn would not be awakened. I rammed into her then, my grip switching from pushing her down onto my groin to underneath her ass to lift it off then slam it back down again. I felt the last jerk of my dick and that peak of ecstasy before it began to flood itself out into her.

She was now leaning back even further, my thrusts sending her pussy skyward before I pulled her ass back down to where it belonged. One of her fingers had found its way into my asshole and I felt myself clenching and unclenching around it as our juices mingled and spilled out with each successive thrust. I didn't care. No, worse, I ENJOYED the feeling of her exploring my own most intimate hole as I came deep inside her.

The tales us men tell - about those of gallons of sperm and oceans of pussy juices bathing our entire bodies during climaxes? They are fables, of course. But if the height of pure animal lust and pleasure that encompassed us at that moment could have a physical manifestation, that would have been it. The reality surely did not match those stories, but to me... to us... it may as well have.

There was more that night. Of course. How could there not be? I was a man, not just sex-starved but - dare I say - love starved. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if she really felt the same. Yinglets do look up to us as the dominant species. Was that the only reason she was here now? Was this some sort of master/slave relationship where she was riding my cock only because I was a member of that dominant species? I certainly hoped not. And later events would bear that out. But at the time that thought did enter my head.

I said as much to Mavel, after what must have been our fourth peak and we were laying sated beside each other in reverse direction, her licking the remains of our passion from my withering cock while I explored her tail, asshole and pussy from the other side. Though mostly I just stroked her tail which fascinated me to no end.

Of course she protested that it had been nothing of the sort, but even if she truly didn't think so, the thought kept returning to me. Still, she had come to me - unbidden - and of her own accord, even against the advice of her own Matriarch. That was not a small thing for female Yinglets.

At last she had to beg forgiveness for not staying till the morning. The state of relations between the species being what it was, there was no question that she would need to leave by the same method she had entered. As I lowered her from the window, we said our goodbyes. I watched her don her modest apparel before she turned to go. But I took her hand before she left and we looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. There were no more words to be said. I didn't want her to go. She didn't want to leave. But...

As I watched her hop and, perhaps, waddle a bit into the night. I hoped I hadn't - at last - been too rough with her. Though as she'd forewarned me, she had certainly been energetic enough in her own right. Frenetic was the word that crossed my mind.

And then she was gone. Mavel. No scav. I would not use that word again in reference to her. I stood there, looking out at the black night where I'd last seen her tail recede, for a long time. My eyes began to water. Could one night of sex with a Yinglet really be doing this to me? As a tear splashed on the dry cobblestone below the window, the answer was obvious. It was at that moment in a flood of realization that I knew how lonely I had been.

Yet that was not the last I was to see of Mavel. Not at all. I returned to my homeland the next day, completing my assignment on the long road home. The days came and went, and my life returned to its former patterns. But my nights had changed. I no longer frequented the brothels I had in the past. When my thoughts turned that direction, I turned towards her across invisible miles. Silly of me, I knew. Ridiculous. A Yinglet I'd only known a few hours. Hours of ecstasy though they were, but surely I was dwelling far too much on such a tryst. This was my thinking for the first week. By the second week I had given up trying to forget her. I wrote odes to her, leaving out anything incriminating that might mark her as a Yinglet. Sonnets, poetry, pornography I wrote, no longer sure if she even remembered me.

By the end of the month, I was already planning the trip back.

She remembered me. The scene of our reunion, as repressed as it had to be, made that very clear. We met again that night. I told her of my scheme, and she was all-in, though she made it clear she could not lie to her Matriarch. Over the following days, a clandestine deal was struck. Mavel would return with me, but only under condition that she return for the ritual matings that the Matriarch arranges during female Yinglet's fertile years, and any eggs she might produce would be cared for at the nursery. This was a small price to pay, all things considered, since such arranged matings were already part of the fabric of Yinglet life. If I were to suffer a pang of fear that I might lose her to some male Yinglet and his more natural affinity, it was a sting I could live with for the reward of spending all her other nights with me.

And so, I have a new maid at home. Some wonder why, if I need this Yinglet maid so much, why do I also hire a regular maid as well? Rumors surely fly, but I have the ear of my House's master and such rumors are kept very quiet. Mavel is treated with respect in the streets, and has struck up friendships with a lot of our local Yinglets as well. Within the House elite, of course, the reality of my relationship with Mavel is well known, though unspoken. You don't hide such things from them, or if you do, you do so at your peril. I did not. I need to maintain the good grace of my Patron, and I risked the truth. Yet I breathe so much easier now. Outdoors, we maintain the most proper of interspecies relationships. She has had a respectable number of children, which we visit often. That stops the majority of rumors. But at night, when the guests have left and the house is shuttered and the maid has gone home...

We have had impressive, and necessary, soundproofing added to our bedroom.