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"You expect me to leave my weapon behind, when you are still so clearly... armed?"

With his first week out of the way, Ofaris hoped that the majority of his jitters would have subsided, but he was finding new ones every single day, and sometimes, they were in the form of an entire person.

"You will find that the Fount carries no weapons about his person," Elena explained, though while she did so, she clutched her own spear in her palpable grasp. "Rest assured that we only wish to hold your weapons for a time so that we may guarantee his safety, as the goddess would command."

At the suggestion of the palace guards, the robe Ofaris wore the first week had been replaced with a simple, white loincloth, moving just past the reach of his knees. His member occasionally darted out from the side as he walked, and already, he knew that was what the woman was talking about, when he wore nothing else, and held nothing in his paws.

"...For the promise of what they may offer me...I will lay down my weapons," the woman explained. The sharpness of her ears indicated her presence as an elf, but the blade that was her tongue caused Ofaris more concern than any of enchanted arrows in her quiver. "I do not do this lightly, Fount Ofaris. I hope you understand the gravity of this gesture."

For anyone to speak to the Fount in such a way was walking a fine line of treasonous blasphemy, but just as Elena and Shian lifted their spears, Ofaris lifted a palm.

"Proud warriors are slow to lay down their weapons; I understand," he assured her. "I can't thank you enough for your cooperation, and your generous donation of mithril to the palace...you will be fairly compensated for both."

Golden eyes burned with a level of intensity that Ofaris couldn't recall ever seeing at the palace before, but as she looked away from Elena and turned her focus to the Fount himself, they softened up just a little bit, as if she knew that he was placating her...but in such a way that she found agreeable.

"Rumors of your kindness have spread through the streets quite rapidly, Fount Ofaris. I'm delighted to find that my sources were trustworthy."

"And it is my delight to find that you can be reasoned with," he gestured to her bow. "I promise you that Elena will take the utmost care of your weapon in the meantime."

Without the bow and quiver, the young elf was reduced to a black bralet, reaching down just short of her navel and adding a little more coverage than a typical brassier...but it was hardly enough for going out in public.

Her skirt, in kind, did little to hide the matching panties of black that she wore; the entire outfit screamed of clothes being an inconvenience to her, and one that she abided only because of the laws of the city. The stockings upon her thighs were to match the rest of her outfit, more than any practical use...but she'd been advised that the Fount would appreciate her sense of decorum, so everything matching was of the utmost importance.

If Ofaris were being honest, she was utterly beautiful, but what she wore was becoming less important than how she performed in their upcoming ritual; over the course of the week, Ofaris was already starting to believe the ideologies that were placed upon him, and having all the sensual women in the city thrown at his body was only adding to a budding sense of confidence and self-importance.

Even Elena would claim that it was a nice change of pace...but she hadn't admitted yet that she was saving her copper to make enough of a donation to try him on for size, now that he was allowed to thrust back at her.

"You'll have to tell your sources that they have my thanks for their good word. Donations to the palace have been on the rise this past week, and that does my heart and soul well," Ofaris claimed. Out in the opening of the commons, he still spoke with a sense of pomp and professionalism, but as he was escorted up the stairs with his next customer, it faded, little by little, with the tiniest bit of a grin appearing on his muzzle. "But we're here with concerns of the flesh only , aren't we?"

The rumors around the city were only word of mouth, and thanks to Lady Rayvn, there was already a preconception that Ofaris was kind, but delicate, to say the very least.

"Fount...F-Fount Ofaris," the woman covered her mouth, surprised by the shift in his tone. "I'm honored by your sense of urgency..."

"And I'm flattered by not only your donation, but your willingness to give up your weapon to lay with me," he assured her. "Though you still look to be a force to be reckoned with, miss...?"

He held the curtain open for her as they reached the hidden alcove at the top of the stairs. With a flush, she entered, but she refused to show such weakness when the curtain closed behind them once more.

"Esmerelda Grissent...though I am more commonly called Esme by my peers and family."

"A lovely name," he professed. "I do look forward to spending this afternoon with you, Esme. A kind, proud soul like your own surely deserves the blessings of the goddess."

She tilted her head a bit as she turned to face him from the middle of the room. "With just one gaze upon me, you feel that I deserve such a thing?"

Ofaris grinned. "I've been able to watch you from afar, seeing you come and wait your turn in line every day for a week, Esme. Over such time, I've had plenty of opportunities to see yours as body that would do well to receive her touch."

"But only if it comes through you?" she asked, questioning the very logic by which the palace operated.

He'd been warned that this might happen from time to time, but where he was expecting her to keep questioning his logic and attempt to cause a scene, he watched instead as she pulled the ties of her skirt and left it to drift to the floor.

"That...n-not-

"Relax, dear Fount," she cut him off, tugging the center clasp of her bralet and letting the cups fall to the floor. "I made a sizable donation of mithril to this palace and waited my turn so that I could fuck your supposedly blessed brains out...whether you're going to somehow enchant my womb with the touch of a distant goddess, or simply fill me with your seed and flood my body with a litter of little hooflings...I will be impregnated by a man of the highest order."

There were some who would never believe the legends of the goddess, and further still, there were plenty who came to the palace that believed nothing of their religion or any other, but those who made their donations and spent time alone with the Fount were almost certain to find themselves bearing children before too long.

Esme wasn't sure how much she believed anything involving a deity, but she was absolutely certain that she could milk every drop of seed out of Ofaris' member...and if it took more than one try, well...

...She'd paid for more than a few.

"It's an honor that you refer to me in such high regard, Esme."

"And you can drop the proper bullshit, Ofaris."

"...I take it that you really did just come here to fuck me silly, didn't you?" he asked, snickering to himself and trying to pretend that he'd ever get used to that concept. "I'm afraid there's still a certain decorum that I need to approach this with, but..."

His voice trailed off as she pulled the crotch of her panties aside, showing off the glistening moisture that had gathered at her petals. Tugging straight down thereafter, she yanked the undergarments to the floor hastily and lifted her digits to her lips, sampling the natural arousal of her own body from between parted fingers.

Golden eyes narrowed at him, and his cock immediately jumped into the baggy loincloth, before the weight of his erection pushed it to the side.

"Decorum, hm? Is that a position that I've never heard of?" she asked, her voice dancing along his sensitive ears. "I suppose you would know all kinds of unique mating rituals, being the new Fount..."

In his first week, Ofaris didn't learn as much about making love as he'd hoped to, but then, there was a greater purpose behind every bedding that he was a part of: though there were those customers who came and wanted to experience the passion that he was able to offer them, many saw him as the vessel that he was supposed to be, and in as much, it wasn't his passion, or even his skill that mattered.

What they cared about was making Ofaris empty every drop of his seed into their bodies, in one fashion or another, so that the blessings of the fertility goddess might be upon them.

"Clever words and a skillful tongue," Ofaris met her tease with greater confidence than he would have during his first day, but he still had some ways to go before he was on equal footing with such an aggressive, young woman. "They've served you just as well in your life as a warrior as they would in your life as a mother, I would imagine..."

"Remember what I said about dropping the bullshit, Ofaris?"

He chuckled nervously. "Just making conversation with you, Esme."

"I did not come here for conversation."

She didn't need to prompt the gazelle to approach her body, but she was already overwhelmed with sexual frustration: to be teased any further than she already was left every inch of her body aching for the blessings of his touch, and the fruitful copulation that would come after.

Just by taking his time, he was torturing her...but the subtle gasp that emerged from her lips when she cupped her breast and lifted it toward her own tongue betrayed such an idea, leaving him without the urgency in his step as he approached her.

"For the size and scope of your donation, I suppose it would be prudent to...make good on what you came here for, then?"

"Speak to me like a real person, Fount; is all the blood in your body flowing to your cock and leaving your brain useless?"

She'd already made her point about not wanting to be treated like she was just another blinded fool: she didn't want this to be a ceremony.

If anything, she came to a sacred place in order to be defiled , so long as it was by the most qualified male that she could find.

"Right...you're not here to be treated with respect and dignity," Ofaris remembered. "You want me to call you a dirty little bitch...to remind you that the desires of the flesh...the same ones that dominate your actions...are the only reason that my cock is kissing against your womanhood. Is that right?"

Though a far cry still from the words of the previous Fount, Elena was covering her mouth just outside the door, silently impressed with the progress Ofaris was making in such a short amount of time.

More than ever, she was excited to take advantage of her position as a palace guard, but as the reputation of the new Fount continued to grow, so would the line of eager women beyond the reaches of the commons, waiting for their opportunity to get into bed with him.

"Desires and fulfillment are the only things that drive my existence, Ofaris; I desire you to fulfill me. Need I make it anymore obvious than that?"

By then, Ofaris was having more fun than he was letting on at keeping her waiting, but there was only so much enjoyment he could take from the tease before the resting warmth of her petals around the tip of his member became too much for him to resist.

Teasing put a grin on his face, but the sheer bliss of feeling her labia spread around the head of his cock and envelope the first few inches of his manhood wiped that grin away and left his entire body in a desperate tremble.

Esme knew what she was capable of: she'd allowed Ofaris to toy with her long enough.

"You've made it t-that obvious from the beginning," the gazelle reminded her. "I do apologize for...m-making you wait for this..."

"Making me wait for another tease?" she asked, her voice demanding more than the gracious slide of his tip between her petals. The expectation of being not only penetrated, but properly fucked , was dripping in every word of her voice...but actions always spoke louder than words, and the hike of her leg around his hip as she gripped the base of his shaft told him rather decidedly that the fun and games were over. "For the donation I gave, you'd better shape up and fuck me like you mean it."

It wasn't easy for Ofaris to keep up with a woman of such means, but he was doing the best he could with the overwhelming situation, and the physical delight that came with her hand literally pulling his member into the depths of her eager passage.

His lips quivered, but he still managed his words the best he could. "You're easily the most demanding woman I've ever met," he claimed. It was the genuine truth, but she didn't much care about the honesty in his voice: she was more concerned with him hiking his opposite leg up onto the bed to gain a better depth of penetration. "Just how large of a donation did you say you made? I may have to...p-push a few other appointments back..."

In a society where so many women were used to taking the lead in the bedroom, Esme was excited by the possibility that the timid cervine might have something more in store for her than the usual excuses and the same passive role.

Most of her lovers, she knew from the flats of their backs, while she sat in their laps and did all the work. She loved the sense of control, and in her place, she'd found plenty of men who could make it interesting when they were barely able to move...but this was one of the rare opportunities for her to feel someone properly thrusting back at her.

As his hoof pressed into the cushions and their torsos came as close as they could, Ofaris found her body more than able to accommodate his impressive length; most women that came to be 'blessed' couldn't handle more than half, but as they continued to surprise each other, he offered the final by easing a paw down the side of her thigh, finding the small gap under the back of her knee.

She giggled, at first. "Such a delicate, but passionate touch...but is that the best you can do?" she asked, and no sooner said, she felt his digits grip tight at her flesh, hiking that leg the rest of the way around his lower back and forcing her to rest against him.

For the first time that she could properly remember, control in the bedroom had been wrestled from her, forcing her to learn his pace. As smooth and gentle as his first few thrusts were, she would have thought that an easy task...if not for dealing with perhaps the greatest gift Ofaris had to give.

His full length, coming at the end of every thrust, was pounding into her bodice with all the girth and pressure it could offer, proving to be more than Esme could take without clenching his arms around his shoulders; she was on the verge of biting down on his ear when she paused herself and bit her lower lip, instead, refusing to give him so much credit so easily.

As he continued to pump and fill her sensitive depths, however, she found that the pressure upon her own lip was becoming too much...

...Going after his flesh was a fair retribution for making her wait so long for something so blissful.

"I can do s-so much more than this," Ofaris finally declared, but his boast was short lived: he had to seal his own lips and clench his teeth to avoid groaning aloud when he felt the subtle fangs of the elf sinking in against the side of his neck. "But if you're g-going to behave like that, I...I'm not sure...I'll be willing to cooperate!"

"You have to," she reminded him, licking her lips and finding his natural warmth and musk to be simply delightful. "You're the Fount, aren't you? I've made my donation...I've waited in your f-fucking line...you will pump every d-damned drop of your seed into me...or I'm going to take my payment from you another way!"

Feeling how sharp the fangs of the elf truly were, Ofaris had no reason to doubt that she might try and take his blood if he didn't offer up his seed first: hard as those daggerlike tips were nipping into his neck, he worried that she might be able to draw blood before she'd milked the seed from him, but no matter what he did, she was going to get what she wanted from the act.

His fear prompted a surge in his pace, and that renewed urgency left her to finally throw her arms around his neck and cling to him. His member proved to be the ultimate counter to her domineering ways, but there was only so much he could do with the brute force of his hips and the desperate whimpering of his lips.

She wouldn't be satisfied until she could feel the spreading, virile warmth of his cum within her passage, and in their current pose, there was too great a threat of his seed leaking back out of her.

"You're...g-gonna get a lot of payment...if y-you keep humping me like this!" Ofaris assured her, but those words weren't insurance enough, either.

What was finally enough for her was the pressure of her leg against his lower back, bucking his hips forth and crumpling his posture. The Fount dropped forward, landing into the bed with Esme and, for a moment, staring into the molten gold of her stare.

They were panting, gazing at each other and seeing a greater need had been mutually fulfilled...she found herself beneath a man, even for a moment, unsure if she was the one in control...and he found himself pinning a woman with a sense of bewildering confidence, knowing that it was his actions, and his actions alone that left her gasping for air and clutching at his back, raking her nails through his fur.

The transcendent climax that followed was such that their bodies picked up the pace without another word: their new pose was a simple missionary, but there was nothing simple about the depth and punishing pace that Ofaris offered to Esme, now that he was properly atop her.

His sack pummeled the inside of her thighs as he stretched her inner muscles around his shaft over and over again, until there was no halting the sacred flood of his seed, pouring straight into her womb as his tip kissed against the very last wall of resistance in her body.

"T-too deep...t-that's too deep, Ofaris!" she cried out, but there were no more words: only desperate, shrill whimpers and heavy breaths escaped her, taking away her opportunity to praise him for the sheer flood of seed that she could feel perverting her womb.

That warmth, for that moment, filled her insides in such a way that she worried she wouldn't be able to keep it all in...and when Ofaris lifted his quivering hips and delivered another thrust, she could feel some of the excess already leaking out, spilling into the myriad pillows and cushions that made up his bedspread.

I wonder how much more he can make? She thought, feeling entitled to more than one round with him. If he's going to push that much of it out...

Wanting to prove that he'd given her what she paid for, Ofaris had one more surprise in store: his shoulders hooked under her knees and lifted her hips back toward her torso, folding her up slightly and forcing his seed to slide back down the tender, well-fucked flesh of inner muscles...leaving every drop of his virile mess heading the right direction.

Grinning just a little bit and panting above her, Ofaris felt as though he'd been able to properly unleash himself in the heat of the moment for the first time...and if he could do that with a fiery spirit like Esme, there was no telling what he was really capable of.