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Tyg groaned quietly to himself as he heard chattering and laughing on the other side of the ancient iron door. He really hated dealing with orcs. They weren't difficult, really, but they always made a mess. And three could make just as much noise as eight or nine, so you could never tell just how many were there until they were all on you, and even then it could be too chaotic to really get a good count. And of course, they would have to be dealt with. The otter knew from experience that if orcs were good at anything, it was looting, and if there were any valuables left in these ruins they were in green skinned hands. Hands most likely on the other side of that door.

Upon realizing there was no way to get into that room quietly, Tyg found himself wishing Glenn and Mirf had come along this time. Sure, it was nice to get out alone sometimes, but he wasn't exactly one to take his opponents head on- especially not when they outnumbered him at least four to one, as he estimated it. Still, it would be a wasted trip if he didn't get something out of it. And if there were too many to handle he could probably slip away, he reasoned as his small frame pressed to the door. After a few deep breaths, he mustered the courage to push it open, trying his best to keep it quiet. The rusted hinges had no intention of cooperating.

Tyg peeked around the edge, hoping the crowd on the other side had drowned out his own noise. While none of them had heard the door over their dick jokes, one of them happened to turn his head just in time to catch a glimpse of the otter's brown fur. And it was on. "Get 'im, boys!" Tyg would have taken that as his cue to burst in heroically if he hadn't already counted seven of them in there, but that particular observation made it his cue to flee.

He flew down a half-remembered hall, eyes wide open and scanning for an exit, or at least a hiding spot as a pair of large bodies tumbled out after him, followed by several of their slower-acting comrades. Even at this distance, the soft thump of the otter's footsteps was completely inaudible over the stomping and shouting behind him. Perhaps more worrisome was how much louder they were getting as they got closer. A little hop over a fallen brick and a quick turn down what Tyg hoped wasn't a dead end lead him to another doorway. Ignoring his recent luck with doors and their ways, the otter darted in and immediately looked for someplace to hide while one particularly observant orc loudly informed his friends that "He go'd tha'way!"

The room turned out to be a simple bedroom, much to Tyg's dismay. There was a closet he'd probably get found in immediately, a nasty old bed that would be the second or third thing they looked under, a dilapidated desk he wouldn't quite fit under and a few piles of moldy old books next to a window that would make a fairly nice exit if they weren't on the third or fourth floor. As the otter headed for the closet in desperation, something caught his eye. Right alongside the bed, the ancient brick floor had given way. Maybe something fell through and demolished it, maybe it just wasn't built too well. He didn't care about how it happened. The important thing was that he was going to be on a completely different floor and he'd never seen an orc small enough to fit through that hole. The time he'd normally spend congratulating himself was cut short when he heard one of the beasts barreling into the room after him, and in an instant he jumped down, landing with an "oof" in yet another pile of books.

"'Ey! Come back up so's we kin stuff yas," he heard his pursuer call down to him. The orcs shouted a few other variations of this at him over the next minute or two until they stomped off, finally convinced he was not coming back out.

Tyg smirked a bit as he scrambled to his feet, swelling with pride at outwitting a bunch of dumb orcs yet again. He gave his satchel a quick glance to ensure it hadn't torn, then brushed some of the dust off his loincloth before proceeding. The otter hadn't worn much of anything since he began going on these adventures, finding it often got in the way or was quickly ruined. Usually both. "Man, I am glad these rags are so cheap," he muttered to himself as he thumbed at a new stain on it, idly taking a few steps forward before his eyes went back up. "Now, where the heck am I?"

If the books he had landed in weren't a good enough clue, the shelves lined with them would probably help him reach the conclusion that he was, in fact, in this formerly grand castle's library. Or at least, it would once he found that little light-emitting gem he kept in his bag. Tyg always found himself a little annoyed when his goods got shuffled around, but he supposed it beat not making daring escapes. Ah, there it was, down in the very bottom. Of course.

The stone itself wasn't really anything special, but it was useful enough Tyg had never considered selling it to one of those magic obsessed weirdos that always wanted to buy anything with any sort of enchantment. The teal luminescent thing was smooth and round, just about the right size to fit in the palm of his hand. It was far more convenient than a torch, what with it's small size, lack of odor and lack of potential handburning. In fact, he'd found it maintained a fairly pleasant temperature in any environment. It was never too different from his own body temperature, something he was always thankful for in the winter.

Tyg held the slightly warm stone out in his left hand, padding along silently as he took in the scenery. He could already tell very, very few of these books were going to be salvageable, and was quite certain it wasn't worth putting up with the musty smell that filled the library or possibly being found by the orcs to recover the few that could be worthwhile. Upon finding the doors, he slipped out into the formerly grand hall without hesitation, hand closed around the luminescent stone.

It had been years since anyone could tell what color the carpets were, and even longer since the lanterns lining the hall had burned out. Tyg sighed in relief as he heard nothing to suggest anyone else was nearby, promptly uncovering his light as he stalked along, silently searching for signs of loot or at least a good exit. He cracked every door and peeked in as he slinked along the hallway, though he didn't find much. A few destroyed bedframes, some rooms picked clean, numerous dressers others had clearly been through a dozen times over. Not even one coin seemed to be left in this place.

The otter nearly hopped back when he heard something, muttering something silent and foul to himself. He heard a bubbling kind of sound, like something was boiling. He went dead silent, even breathing noiselessly while cautiously rounding the corner to close in on to it's source: another old door, shut tight with a dim light shining out from under it. Whatever he was hearing, it was growing louder. And goodness, what a smell. Was somebody cooking in here? It was unlike anything he'd ever tried, if that was the case. Tyg thought he could make out a few familiar notes here and there, but on the whole the scent was as alien as it was alluring. And damn was it alluring. Tyg had to stop himself from just opening the door, though he already knew nothing would stop him from investigating this further. Even if it turned out to be orc cooking, he had to try it. So after a bit of deliberation, he shoved his gem back in it's spot in his satchel and carefully, though perhaps a bit too quickly, pushed the door open just far enough for a peek.

He didn't see a single orc, much to his relief, though the one creature he found saw him immediately. This gazelle, curvy and clearly quite busty, still dressed fairly modestly in a heavy bluish robe. She just smiled to Tyg, instantly reaching up to wave. She was sitting near the center of the room, which featured freakishly well preserved furniture and a few weak lamps producing that light he'd seen. The bed against the room's back wall looked to be freshly made, he noticed before his eyes moved over several alchemical tools strewn across the dresser.

"Come on in," she said cheerfully, motioning to a cushion beside the one she was sitting on. "I'm almost done with this, you'll want to try it!"

Tyg knew he wanted to try it, whatever it was, and he was surprised at how eager he was to take a seat next to this stranger. "Oh, hi," he began nervously as he sat down. "My name is Tyg also it smells really nice, what are you cooking?"

The gazelle giggled slightly and stirred the mixture. It sat in a small cast iron pot suspended above a magically-produced flame- fire that seemed to be coming from the floor itself. "I'm Cenda. And this," she proclaimed proudly, "Is an elixir I have been working on for months. I found the last ingredient here and just couldn't wait to put it all together. And how lucky, you've stumbled in just in time to be one of the first to try it!"

And suddenly, the otter was reminded of exactly how he ended up here, and his eyes went wide. "Did, um, did you know there are orcs here? They chased me down this way, I don't think they followed me cause they couldn't fit in the hole but they might still be looking all over for me cause they probably have nothing better to do a-"

He was cut off with a quick "Nope" and a hoofed fingertip to his mouth. "I haven't heard a single orc come by here. They probably got distracted," she continued. "Course, if they are headed this way, I guess now would be a good time to try my elixir, wouldn't it? If I did this right, then you'll practically be a different person with how potent the stuff is."

Tyg gulped and looked at the mixture. The flame under it had disappeared, and the pot was about halfway full of a viscous, red liquid. It'd look solid if it weren't rolling around with the last few stirs this mysterious lady had decided to give it. "Well, it won't, uh, give me an extra pair of ears or anything weird if you got it wrong, right?"

The gazelle scoffed a bit at his suggestion. "First, I got it right. Second, if I didn't, I don't think it'd do anything worse than make your dick a bit bigger. Really, worst case scenario, nothing happens and the orcs eat you or whatever they'd do anyway," she said as she spooned a bit of the mixture up into a tiny glass. "And maybe it only tastes as good as it smells, that would be a shame."

Well, if that was as bad as it could get, Tyg knew he'd be a fool to say no. The elixir's odor alone had been leaving him more and more curious every second. He just had to taste it, whether it'd help or not. He didn't even hesitate, only giving a quick "Thank you" before taking the little glass in one hand and downing the entire thing. The crimson concoction was sticky and sweet, almost syrupy, but immensely satisfying. The stuff filled him with a warmth not entirely unlike alcohol, though far softer and more pleasant. He knew right away it was something magical, and somehow he knew Cenda had brewed it flawlessly. He wondered what other incredible things she knew how to make, too lost in his imaginings to notice the gazelle opening her robes.

As Tyg's tongue scooped the last few drops from her wide, shallow glass, his ears picked up the heavy fabric flumping onto the floor behind his new friend. His eyes darted over to see what the sound was, and in an instant he was done caring. The alchemist had apparently decided to show her body off and was wearing only a smirk now. Goodness, she was nice to his eyes as she was to his tongue. She had fairly broad shoulders and strong arms, but a bit of soft belly under her several handfuls of even softer breasts. But what really caught his eye was the hefty phallus standing at half mast. It was nearly as thick as the otter's arm, and stood nearly to her rack, black meat towering over the cantaloupe sized balls.

"Goodness," she said as her cock swished back and forth slightly. "Such a brave hero, escaping orcs and trying strange potions! You must work up such an appetite!" She was blatantly flattering him here, but that didn't make it any less nice to hear.

"I, uh, yeah," Tyg said as he tried not to stare too much, though the incredible appetite he'd finally noticed made that rather difficult. Even if she was pretty clearly a nonthreat, it still felt a little strange, rude even, to just stare. He'd been trained very early in his career not to ogle so much. Something about keeping your mind where you want it and all that.

"Well come on over," Cenda replied with a giggle. "It's pretty rude to refuse a meal," she said as her hand patted that massive dick. Maybe that's where Tyg wanted his mind to be after all.

And Tyg just blushed, feeling silly for not quite picking it up before. Of course she wants a blowjob. And between his hunger and knowing he probably owes her for the lovely drink, the otter figured he really should go ahead. Following a bit of deliberation, Tyg fell forward onto his hands and knees before crawling over to Cenda's dick, giving it a little kiss at the base before dragging his tongue up along the shaft, much to her delight. Damn, she tasted almost as good as her brew. He looked up to her grinning face as his mouth opened wide and wrapped around the salty tasting head of her cock.

There was something a little odd about Cenda's grin. Almost like she was a little too satisfied to have someone sucking her off. Well, she did just make an amazing elixir of some sort, Tyg reasoned. The taste alone was nice enough to earn some head. Of course she's proud. And probably proud of that wonderful shaft, too, with it's girth and it's heavy, musky aroma, and of the gargantuan balls beneath it. It felt amazing in his mouth, the few inches he could fit, throbbing powerfully as it rose to it's full potential.

"Mmm, that's right," Cenda whispered as her hand stroked along his ear. "And such a nice little mouth you have," she continued as her free hand reached over to the strange mixture, a finger or two dipping into it. "Let's get some more of it around me, hm?" And with that, she dragged a potion-coated finger down her shaft, all the way to the base, leaving a thick trail of the stuff on her ebony skinned length.

Tyg's eyes opened wide, and in an instant he found himself pressing down firmer, opening his jaw uncomfortably wide as he all but leapt at the chance to taste more of his new favorite beverage. In a matter of seconds, Cenda's dick was a good two inches deeper into his mouth, the head drooling at the back of his tongue as he tried not to gag. The tiny bit of her magical mixture that reached his tongue assured Tyg that he was absolutely taking the correct approach here, and with that bit of encouragement he took a deep breath and pushed further down on her shaft, trying not to groan as the wonderful aromas of her brew and her balls filled his nose in tandem.

The otter had given blowjobs, sure. It was kind of unavoidable in these lands, especially for adventurers, but he couldn't recall ever enjoying it this much. The tastes and smells were perfect, between the strange potion and the massive slab of meat, still throbbing hard against the roof of his mouth. It was mere seconds before Tyg's hand was on his own stiff shaft, squeezing it tight in webbed fingers. His groan was muffled by the cock filling his throat, though it was apparently audible enough to earn an approving pat from Cenda. He felt her hoofed fingertips massaging over his scalp idly as he pushed down even further, lips within inches of the base. If he weren't so focused on the task at hand, Tyg would probably be absolutely shocked at how much of her he was able to take.

"There we go," Cenda cooed down to him. "This works, mmm, so well for both of us," she continued as her fingertips continued to rub little circles over his head, occasionally brushing along one of his round little ears. "I get a nice mouth around my dick like I deserve, you get a big mouthful just like you love." She couldn't quite stifle a giggle before patting his head a few times, giving him a careful push to force more of her fat dick, and perhaps more importantly, more of her mixture into his mouth.

"Of course you love suckin' dicks," she said in response to the protest Tyg's full mouth couldn't produce. In fact, she seemed to be interrupting the very thoughts he had been forming, almost as though she could speak over his own mind. "Heck, I'll bet it's your favorite thing to do."

Well, he had to give her that one. Maybe not before this incident, but as his own substantial dick drooled along the stone floor and his own slowly jerking hand, Tyg suddenly realized that he couldn't remember the last time he was so worked up over anything. He could barely breathe with his throat around her. The scents that blocked out everything else were easily his nose's favorite thing in the world. The salty flesh kept his mouth full in a nice, satisfying sort of way, even if it was leaving his jaw sore. Each throb made his own shaft twitch. Every sensation, from the fingertips working along his head and neck to the hard floor his knees were pressed against, was getting to him in ways he would never have expected. Here he was, a seasoned adventurer, about to blow his load all over the floor over a dick in his mouth.

Cenda's words became less clear as Tyg found himself increasingly fixated on her cock, his head rocking up and down the lovely length as she groaned out encouragement for him. He knew he was being good to her, that she was loving it and he was loving it and she was so glad to meet someone who loved giving head so much. Did she call him a slut? He wasn't entirely sure, but found himself hoping she had. It was a little outside of the otter's usual comfort zone, but something about the prospect of Cenda calling him her slut just flat out turned him on. He realized, as he gulped down the precum that had been pooling on his tongue, that he would probably even enjoy being ordered around, especially if she was doing it. He must have a thoroughly neglected submissive side that she brought out. Damn, it felt good to get that itch scratched.

And as wonderful as it felt to be on his knees, drooling on that massive dick while it's owner groaned down to him, Tyg found himself wondering if it was just an itch, wondering if maybe he wouldn't want to do this kind of thing, well, all the time. As Cenda's words fell on him between her pleased moans, he couldn't help imagining himself as her fucktoy, thick fur concealing a blush as his head filled with images of bending over for the antelope, washing her balls, wearing whatever she wanted him to. It was too much. With the slightest gurgle escaping around the fat dick in his mouth, Tyg's own balls tightened up and his dick erupted into the floor, throwing several spurts of thick, sticky spunk across the stonework beneath him.

"Good boy," she whispered down to him as her hands began to grip his head and neck. Tyg was a little surprised to find himself enjoying the praise so immensely, and perhaps at how clearly those words had hit him after the several minutes or so he'd spent just kind of not listening? The otter wasn't sure how, but he simply could not recall what she had been saying for several minutes up to that point. He was probably just a little fuckdrunk, he figured as he began to roll his soft tongue along the underside of that dick, sliding quicker and quicker on her shaft to help her catch up. The otter could feel her surprisingly strong hands squeezing at him while she moaned aloud over him, and suddenly he felt himself pushed down hard, his nose pressed to her body as the shaft throbbed powerfully in his throat.

There was a moan above him, the shaft seemed to thicken up just a tiny bit in his mouth before he felt it. Her load was hot and sticky in his throat, and even before Tyg was fully aware of what happened he found himself eagerly gulping her jizz down. Spurt after wonderful spurt pumped into him, and he tried his best to keep up with her, though there was plenty dripping down onto the fat shaft as he slid back up. As his belly began to feel full, her massive load began to taper off, the last few shots putting the fiftieth or so coat of antelope paint across his tongue.

Tyg was satisfied. His belly was so warm and full, and that warmth seemed to spread through the rest of his body at an alarming rate. He found himself just collapsing back into Cenda's lap, though he couldn't help a grin as her hands went back to massaging along his neck and shoulders.

"There we go. It's been a long day, hasn't it?" Cenda giggled just a bit as her cock settled back down to rest atop her balls. "Those orcs aren't coming for you, it's safe to rest," she assured him while her hands continued to knead along him. There was a familiar tingle of magic as one began rubbing along the back of his head, and the mustelid noticed a bit of drowsiness forming. "So just sleep," she whispered down to him.

Tyg was finally figuring out that whatever he just drank was not the strengthening potion he'd expected, but he'd enjoyed himself too much to care at this point. Everything else Cenda had him do so far had been wonderful. The otter settled into her lap, comfortably pressing his face into those massive balls with a yawn, and found himself effortlessly slipping into the most restful sleep he'd ever had. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tyg was a little glad his friends knew which ruin he'd gone poking around in. But that thought, if it could even be called that, was gone the instant he passed out.

The End

Or is it?

FUCK