Immortality: Chapter 1
Desert. That's what you see. The rolling, shifting sands of nothingness. A peircing pain rips through your skull, making you wince as you pick you head up from the warm sands. Feeling baked, you manage to push yourself up, though you stumble. Blistering winds sweep over the lands, making you squint. You look up to avoid them.
The sun is at high noon, leaving you without a sense of direction. Dressed in heavy plate armor but completely weaponless, you scratch your head in confusion. How did you get here, in the middle of absolute nowhere? You can't remember.
You don't even know your name. Carefully, you pat yourself down, and to your luck, you fell a bulge in your pocket. You quickly dig in and yank out a folded parchment square. Quick to unfold it, you find it to be a note. You read it, again, and again.
Wait. You remember something. It hurts, making you scowl and fall to your knees. It hurts, but you remember.
Now, it is late. Very late. Night has long set over the city of foxes, Magnus Vulpes. While many of the streets are silent, patrolled only by the night guards, one still is bright with light and music. That street, of course, being the street of taverns. On in particular is full and vibrant, but then, it is the most famous tavern in the city, named so appropriately The Vixen's Brew.
The tavern is alight with the sound of music, the band idly playing on stage. Candles and lanterns flicker throughout the quaint wooden building, thickening through the smell of alcohol and a good day's adventure. A bar on one side, mirrored by scattered tables, the tavern is small and covered with weapons, you own being on the table in front of you.
You grin and throw your mug in the air, spilling some froth over the side as you sway in your seat. A cat of pure white fur, your alcohol tolerance is less than amazing, and yet here you are, in a drinking contest with her. A hand plays up to your whiskers. Idly twirling them around a nimble finger, you grin and take the mug from the air and press it to your lips. One tight swig later, and it is empty, a hollow slam following it as it lands on the table.
"Nishe try," you slur with a hiccup. The wolf across from you growls and tosses out a few more coins from her purse. You eye her over with a smirk as she waves her empty mug in the air. Within seconds, another mug is rushed to her front by one of the many onlookers of this spectacle.
"One of ush is goin' down," she says, wiping her brow. You catch a little bead of sweat trickle down her face. A roll of your eyes and a chuckle, you tip your chair back and throw you boots up onto the table. Your opponent huffs and cracks her knuckles. You can't help but notice her toned muscles through the thin clothes she wears under her plate armor, which is idly tossed aside. Yours lays at the foot of the table, in a neat stack, with a long, slender sword laying atop it, masterfully crafted and covered in ancient runes.
In one fell swoop, she downs the drink, slamming her mug on the table. You bit your lip; it's all you can do to stop your eyes from shooting wide as those who surround you. Unable to help a small groan from escaping your lips, you let your hind paws drop and stare her dead in the eyes, yours blue, hers green. Through her smug grin, you swear you can see the faintest hints of worry. Again, a smile comes to your lips as you empty two coins from your own purse.
"Another!"
As if by magic (or perhaps you were too hammered to notice) another mug appears before you. Without hesitation you lift it and down the smooth, stiff liquid, admiring the taste of sweet mead as it washes over your tongue. You almost fall right out of your chair, if it wasn't for the firm hands of those who are rooting for you keeping you up. "Because... screw you..." you slur, pointing a finger at her and arching an eyebrow.
"Hey, I killed a horde of demonsh today," she says, throwing two coins onto the table. "What'd you do?"
You laugh, but it soon morphs into a belch. Rubbing your gut, you wipe your mouth and say, "I fell in a ruin and had to ride a naga out of it." The spectators behind you 'ooh' and 'ahh', while those on her side only roll their eyes.
"Ooh, big kitty, riding snakes," she mocks, another brew sliding before her. You can see that she is less than composed, swaying with a sloppy expression. Not that you're any different, you muse, as you press your hands to the table to keep steady. "But you want a real challenge? I shay we up the ante."
You hiccup. "Oh yeah? You feelin'... unlucky... or something?"
She is rubbing her soft, furry chin when she says, "Yeah, I am."
You wonder if she heard you. Still, you shrug and stifle a laugh, keeping your eye on her as she calls another drink over for you. Bubbling with froth, another mug slides to your fore, and you carefully wrap your hand around it. "I suggest we do shomething more than this boring game. Letsh... have this drink, as an act of good faith," she says, throwing her mug to the air.
Shrugging, you clank your mug to hers and down the tan liquid. Both slam down on the table, and she stands, beckoning for you to do the same. You do, and watch as she stumbles away to the bar. Quickly you take the money on the table and scoop it into your purse with a mischievous grin, matched by the spectators around you.
Soon the wolf stumbles back to you, apparently unaware of her missing coins. "I got ush a room and a few... noveltiesh. Follow me, I'm gonna get my money outta that purshe."
A crimson blush is flush on your cheeks as you look down to your full purse. With a groan you follow her around the bar and through a wooden door. The world spins, but you're sure that you're fine. This new hallway runs down the tavern, with three or four doors on the wall, though you can't be certain which are doubles in your drunken haze.
Your eyes lock onto the wolf as she fumbles with a key, barely managing to slide it into a lock in the knob. Leaning against the wall, you push yourself down the hall, hind paws dragging on the soft carpet. "Hey, you... what're we doing?"
The door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit room with a dresser, a bedside table, and a large bed. The rustic room's warmth seeps out and washes over you, making your fur stand up and sending a shiver down your spine. You step forward and follow the wordless wolf into the room, your eyes on the bed at all times. You can already feel the plush, softness that this tavern is known for. Drinks and comfort, no wonder it's so well known.
Only seconds later, a red fox you noticed as the bartender walks in with a large tray of assorted liquors. Eyebrows arched, you watch as she sets the tray down and leaves, shutting the door behind her. The wolf sits on the floor, by the tray, sloppily inspecting the drinks, and you swear you see a bulge in her pants. Shaking the thought, you sit on the opposite side of her. "What's thish for?" you ask, poking a bottle.
"Alright, mish adventure lady, I have a challenge for you." The wolf pulls out three strange bottles, one pink, one green, and one blue. You can see their golden labels, but reading them is a challenge. The only one you can make out reads, Batcardi. Rum? What is this, more drinking?
You open your mouth to ask, but she's already moving, pressing her hands to your shoulders and pushing you down to the floor. Too far into your drunken stupor to resist, you land hard on your back, with her barely staying up above you. Her knees by your sides, and her muzzle in your face, she begins to speak, and you can taste the alcohol on her breath. "I'm plashing all my money on the fact that you can't handle my speshal martini."
You laugh. "What, that'sh all?" you ask with a wave of your hand. "I can handle that."
"Ah-ah, I'm not finished talking," she says, wagging her finger in front of you. "If you're shtill moving after you drink it, you win. If you're not, I win. Winner takesh all, and I mean all." She winks.
All she says? That sounds more than tempting, you think. After all, it's been what, a month? All swordplay, no foreplay. It has been rather unfair, hasn't it? And who knows, you muse with a grin, perhaps she's better in bed than behind the flask. You nod, taking her up on her bet and preparing to ravish her when she falls victim to her own arrogance.
You expect her to brew up her 'special martini', and for a moment, it seems that that's what she'll do. She steps off of you and lines the bottles up between you legs, and then, to your surprise, she is leaning over you again. You feel her hands run down your tunic. This wasn't part of the bet. This comes after you drink her creation, and it should be her on the floor. A huff of irritation escapes you.
Ignoring it, the wolf's hands skitter down to your waist and unbuckle your belt, sliding it free from its loops and throwing it aside. Moments later, you find your pants are sliding down your legs slowly, only to slip off of your hind paws and tossed to a corner. This leaves you covered in your green tunic and tan, thin panties.
You look down and see your slender tail waving idly between your legs. "Hey, what're you doin'?"
She hiccups. "Making a martini." Her careful fingers slid into the sides of your panties, forcing a blush upon your face. You sigh and look way, wondering just what in the world she's up to. You feel the soft cloth slide down your legs, exposing your warm sex to the cooler air. The panties are, as everything else, tossed to the corner. Her hands venture up, tearing your tunic away, and doing away with your bra as well, letting your full mounds breathe.
Now, you're naked, feeling exposed. Your tail curves up to your sex to cover it, but the wolf playfully brushes it away. As the ceiling spins, you simply let your tail fall. It isn't long before you feel something cold and round press to you bottom set of warm lips. You gently bite your lip as this eager intruder simply prods at you for minutes, sending light, simple waves of pleasure through you.
You sigh and flick you ear, letting your eyes close. Soon you feel a warm hand on your thigh, rubbing gently, tenderly. "Now you just... hold shtill," the wolf says as she pulls the bottle away. Before you can question it, you feel her hands beneath your knees and your rump lift off the ground. She is on her own knees, resting your legs on her shoulders and keeping your tight pussy skyward.
Chin pressed to you neck, your full jiggling breasts just above your face, you watch her bring a bottle up to your pink lips. The green, shiny neck presses to them, and you watch as she grips it firmly. Her green eyes are locked with yours, and, with a free hand, she reaches down and gropes your firm tit, squeezing the tiny pink nipple between two fingers. You let a tiny moan escape your lips.
After a bit of kneading, you feel the cold of the glass once more, only this time, it does more than just slide at the rim of your pleasure hole. You feel it slide in, gently at first, but soon it begins to spread you. And, now that you think of it (with what little brainpower your addled mind can muster) she's chosen the thinnest bottle to intrude you with first. A long, drawling moan slips free from your throat as the neck of the bottle digs deep into you, your fleshy walls squeezing around them.
Soon a cold, odd sensation shoots up your spine. You swear you feel yourself filling up with something. Alcohol sloshes in your pussy, pushing against the sensitive walls as they pulse against the hard bottle. "Mmm, you're taking thish well," the wolf slurs from above, grinning down at you.
Cheeks ablaze, you move your own hands to your breasts, rubbing and and flicking your little nubs. All too soon the bottle pulls out of you, and your tight pleasure tunnel tightens up as best it can. The liquid within you grows warm as it sloshes around. When she sets the bottle down, you feel her hands grip your two chiseled ass cheeks, her fingers digging into them. She sways you left, then right, pushing the fluid around and forcing a moan out of you.
You swear she's doing it just to see you blush. Growling, you frown at her, but she only flashes a wolfish smile and reaches down for the next bottle. This one, the blue one, is thicker. You lay your head back, too weak to try anything other than relaxing your hole and waiting. It isn't long before this new bottle is pushing into you, spilling out its contents. They sting a little, making you wince and chew on your lip. Your hands squeeze your breasts harder now as you fill up even more. Now you feel a bit like a balloon, and as the liquids mix, you groan and let your tongue fall out.
This bottle pulls out with a wet pop. You shudder and breath out a content sigh, but unfortunately, she's not done with you. Not yet, at least. Once more her strong hands grip your firm ass and give you a light shake, throwing the mixed drink left and right. Adjusting your legs to keep your bottom in the air, she thrusts you forward, shooting the liquid around in a strange manner that makes you gasp.
The wolf bends down as far as she can while still keeping you up, her muzzle just above your breasts. "Ah, you're enjoying thish. Heh, how could you not?"
You breathe out with a smile. She has a point, though whoever taught her this must've been one strange furry. A giggle escapes your lips as your smashed, pleasure filled mind does its best to wrap itself around the situation. While you struggle to think, the wolf moves away and picks up the last bottle. This one makes your eye grow wide. It is thick, oddly shaped, and waiting to plunge deep into your pussy.
Wasting no time, your dominant pushes the thick bottle deep into you, spilling a cool fluid into the now-hot mix that is already bulging inside of your slick walls. This time, as she completes her mix, you feel two nimble fingers rub against your sensitive clit, putting slight pressure on it and twirling it around. You gasp and moan, almost at the same time as this new, strange sensation floods your mind. Pleasure burns in your clit as your sex quivers and contracts as it tries to make sense of this filling pressure that pleases you so.
Soon, almost too soon, the bottle pulls out, and you hear it hit the tray. Too weak to move, you simply let your numb legs do what the wolf wills them to do. Her hand brushes your eager, moist nether lips. She presses down, applying pressure to the fullness inside of you. You feel like you're about to burst. Lips fumbling, you try to ask her to stop, to tell her that you can't take any more, but the only sound you can form is a soft, throaty moan.
One hand pushing against your sex, another on your ass, she rocks you back and forth gently. Peeking through one eyelid, you see her own eyes closed, with a streak of red vibrant through her grey fur. Her tongue is lolled out and she is panting, only lightly. You wonder for a brief moment if she is wet at all. She must be, with the blush on her face.
A hard shake sends the alcohol forward, and you suck in to regain the air that is knocked out of you. The drink sloshes and swirls in your nethers, sending wet pleasure through you as you are used as a personal martini shaker. There is a burning in your loins, and you're sure that you are as red as fire, and your privates are no doubt the same. Her fingers dance and skitter over your folds, pushing them around, pressing them together, and prodding through them. Each small stroke sends a shiver up your spine.
"Mmm, one final shtur..." she says with a smirk, poking her tongue out playfully. Before you can question, she slips a finger into your moist depths and spins it around. You wish you could hide your face, but there's no chance of that. She easily catches your wanting expression, and you're sure that even if she didn't, the panting would have given your lust away.
Her finger dips into your flesh brewery, spinning it around. The feeling of being used flows through you, and it only serves to make your warm pussy shiver and contract even harder. It is so strange, yet so great, and your mind is in pleasure overdrive. Your breathing speeds and your hands begin to squeeze your breasts hard. The pleasure you gain from being so full is too much to bear, and soon your whole body is tingling. Your fur stands on end and your pussy squelches against her finger.
All too suddenly, the finger disappears from your depths, but you by no means feel empty. The tingling dulls a little, and you fear you've been denied. A defeated whimper is all you can muster as the pleasure leaves your mind.
And then you feel something new. Something warm. Almost like... a tongue! You suck in deeply as you feel the playful member flick and lap at your dripping sex. It runs up the length of your sensitive lips, ending at the little nub that is your clit. You moan yet again, this time louder, more forceful.
Her breath is warm as it puffs onto you. The slick, flat tongue glides and brushes against you. It is rough, almost like light sandpaper, grinding against your pleasure nerves. You shudder harder, that great tingling sensation quickly returning. Your breaths pick up again as the drink begins to swirl again. The wolf runs her tongue up to your clitty and laps at it a bit, before descending down and nipping at it.
That was it. It was too much. You buck your hips up, grinding your pussy against her face. A wave of fire courses through your veins as pleasure washes over your mind. Every thought you could muster vanishes as you submit every inch of your being to the orgasm that rivets your body. The shaking and rocking only forces the drink within you to shift, pushing even more pleasure into your already-fried mind.
You practically scream as your body writhes and spasms. Your wolf dominant pushes her tongue into your pulsing pink pussy, digging down into the drink that is swollen within you. The contractions only serve to mix the alcohol more, which sends warmth through you. A tear squeezes out of your eye as the intensity of the orgasm only grows. Your partner's tongue becomes furious, lashing at your cunny.
Your arms and legs become jelly, and you can no longer grope you breasts. Arms fallen to your sides, you can do nothing more than shake and buck. You feel like you are going to fall, and with no way to support yourself, you can only let yourself slip with your orgasm. Luckily, your partner grips your ass once more and pushes you into her mouth for one last, harsh lick of your clit.
Your heart is racing as the intense pleasure dies down, and your partner pulls away, grinning at you. You rest a hand on your heart and take a deep breath in. A feeling of being spend sets into your muscles. They ache, and you can hardly do more than breath and smile with dreamy eyes.
Above you, your partner is less than tired as she looks over her shoulder. For a moment, you hear rustling, and the clanking of glass. Seconds later, you watch as she takes a tall glass and cups it over sore, still full pussy. Stroking your belly with a gentleness about her, she lowers you down slowly. It isn't long before you feel as though you are leaking. A quick look down reveals that the glass is slowly filling with a clear liquid, no doubt a combination of the drink and your orgasmic fluids.
Still sensitive, you rest your head back down and moan, letting her work. The feeling of draining is new but not unpleasant as the pressure goes down. That, coupled with the soft, tender stroking of your fur, eases you into a soft state of relaxation. Soon, though, the glass is full, and you are only half empty. Lucky for you, she sets the glass down and puts another to your waiting nethers.
The feeling of sensual draining returns, and you can't keep your eyes from rolling up in pleasure. Soon, this glass is full, and your inner walls finally press against each other again in sweet relief. The wolf gently sets your rump down, letting blood finally flow back to them. Juices dribble down your pussy, and you're not sure if they're your own, or if they're the alcohol. Probably both, you muse.
Stiff in the afterglow of the orgasm, and still very, very drunk, you cannot move. Again luck is on your side as your wolf partner stands above you and, with her toned muscles, lifts you off the ground and onto the soft, waiting bed, warning you not to fall asleep just yet. She then turns and drops a few cubes of ice into the two tall glasses.
She hands you one, which you carefully take and set on your stomach. The wolf eases herself down next to you, scooting up and slipping an arm under your neck. Your head lays on her shoulder as you cuddle into her warm, soft body. Though she still has her clothes on, you find it easy to rest on her, yet you're sure that bulge in her pants has grown larger. Smiling, she clinks her glass to yours and says, "I think I won."
You weakly shudder and nod, then press your glass to your lips and join her in taking a drink. The clear fluid is surprisingly sweet, and when it pours down your throat, a wave of warmth shoots down your spine. You sigh as a small smile spreads across your lips. She pulls you in closer, taking a drink of her own. A hand runs gingerly down your back, scratching and rubbing, pushing your further down into relaxation, until it grows hard to keep your eyes open. You can't suppress a purr from escaping your throat. Giggling, she takes another sip.
A candle flickers idly, filling the room with its warm, soothing orange light. You take in a deep breath as you take another sip, letting your glossy eyes stare at nothing as your body falls into relaxation.
In your partners strong arms, you enjoy the rest of your stiff drink with her, eventually falling into a deep slumber, dreaming of nothing.
Hours later, your eyes slowly crack open. The smell of sex is in the air, but when your eyes finally register the room, you see that you are alone. Everything is clean. The drinks are gone, and your clothes are neatly folded at the end of the bed. You take in a deep breath and roll onto your back, stretching your arms and legs out. A long yawn forces your tongue to curl and your face to scrunch as a pleasant feeling of relaxation sweeps through you.
You rest your muscles with a sigh and roll your head to the side. Thoughts of the wolf run through your mind. Your drinking, adventuring rival had used you for a martini shaker and then up and left you. A frown touches your lips as you fold your arms and pout. She better have left you at least some money, or at least payed for the room.
There, at the end of the bed, your coin purse was resting atop your clothes, looking only lightly deflated. Perhaps she felt bad for using you, but you simply shrug at the thought and rest your head back on the fluffy pillows.
Wait, what was that? You look up again, at your clothes. Under the coinpurse is a folded piece of parchment, unsealed and seemingly fresh. You push yourself up, sitting tall with one hand keeping the sheets covering your sore breasts. Leaning forward you snatch the paper, pulling it close and unfolding it. The ink is fresh and dark, smudged in areas.
It is simple, short, and sweet. An apology for the leave, and an explanation that yes, you do still have coins in your purse. The wolf, whose name you realize you still don't know, explains that the city's guard is in need of her. Being an established adventurer and soldier, at least, from what you've heard of her, it would make sense that they would ask of her to help against the demons.
She did say something of slaying a horde of demons. And, as you read further into the note, you see that she mentions that she stole your sword to replace hers, which was lost to said demons.
You sigh and lay back down, groaning and rubbing your aching skull. You know you should probably find her. That sword is potent, at least, so you think. You found it in that cave in the desert, the very same cave in which you rode the naga to safety. At the time, the sword was aglow. You think it was crafted by the inhabitants of the cave ruins that were buried beneath the shifting sands. There was something off about that ancient city, but now is not the time to dwell. You're missing something important.
And she knows it. You clearly remember her sword atop her armor last night. She's not telling you something.
Luckily, you know the layout of the city well. The wolf would probably be at the barracks, speaking with the captain of the city. You could probably catch her there, but in the note, there is an explicit warning to not follow, so you conclude that you would have a fight on your hands, and your body is still rather weak, not to mention the strange feeling you have in your nethers.
Of course, you could always use the new money to buy a sword at the blacksmith and take a stealthier approach to this all, though the chances of finding her while she's still in the city are slim. Though, there'd be no violence.
And of course, there's always the rest of the city to explore, and you've been gone for quite a while... who knows what you'll find?
[Your memory is slowly fading]