FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It is a gloomy and dark evening that sees the small band of travelers camped on the side of the road. The cold snap of the autumn air whispers at their backs as the glow of the fire keeps them from the uncertainties of the starless night around them.

While many of those who are traveling are huddled around the warmth, their faces sullen, one sits off on her own, the hooded cloaked figure of a kobold, perched upon a rock, watching the monochrome darkness, the scent of moldering leaves tickling the nostrils.

A human woman leaves the relative comfort of the fire to stand next to the perched professor, pushing her glasses up as she looks off where the light dares not touch. “How can you stand the oppressive dark so much, Tik Tik?” she asks the small creature.

“It remind Tik Tik of home, Erin” the kobold responds. “Cloudy night. Scent of decay. Chill of no sun. It is all like this down underground. It seems like childhood here, except air is too fresh and crisp.”

The woman bundles her cloak around herself, shivering. “Well, thank you for offering to watch, but I can take this next one.”

“Thankie, thank, Erin, but Tik Tik not tired yet,” the kobold says, stretching. “Too excited meet famous wizard and make his home new location on teleporter.”

“It’s too bad you can’t just travel anywhere with that device of yours,” Erin says. “Then, you’d never have to waste time en route to places again.”

“Sometimes,” Tik Tik says, leaning back on the rock, “Tik Tik miss old day of walk through forest and travel through cave. World is huge, and there many place Tik Tik can’t see because so busy think of destination.”

“If only he didn’t insist on protecting his laboratory, we could just contact him through communications magic, Erin sighs.”

From the fire, the gnomish Gimmegee perks up, saying, “If he weren’t such a recluse, he’d have published his findings. Can’t believe the know-it-alls at the library had the balls to cite his work without having a copy of it.”

Eshere, whose translucent body shimmers in the glow of the flame adds, “Yes, well, he does study rather dangerous topics.”

Tik Tik giggles. “Dangerous, or sexy? Who know? But be fun to find out when get there!”

“I suppose that’s true,” Erin says, scratching her nose. “But even so, If I had the means to skip this leg of our journey, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You know this particular road has legends associated with it.”

“All superstition with no basis in fact,” coughs Gimmegee, turning a page in her book.

“That funny,” Tik Tik says, a toothy grin on her maw. “What Gimmegee might consider not real, Tik Tik look for possibility.”

The gnome scoffs. “Sexy possibilities, yes. Please, Sheridon, could you take her place before she invites something untoward into our camp so she can fuck it?”

Tik Tik sticks her tongue out to the gnome and hops off her rock. “Gimmegee only study boring magic. Tik Tik not sure why here to begin with.”

“I study practical magic!” The gnome snaps, hopping up, clenching her fists. “You trying to start something, kobold? Are you that bored?”

“Can we please keep it down? Eshere asks, the slime slurping between the two quarrelsome individuals. “After all, some of our party are trying to sleep still.”

Gimmegee reaches through her cleavage, pulling out a watch. With a snap of her fingers, she produces a tiny light. “What time is it anyway? For fuck’s sake, it’s nearly midnight!”

“If things are going to happen, it’ll probably be around now,” Erin says. “No moon tonight, so no lycanthropes.”

“No moon. Ha, there’s not even a star!” Gimmegee grumbles, staring upward, stuffing her watch back into her bosom. If it’s gonna be this cloudy, it could at least have the decency to thunder and get it over with.”

Eshere shudders. “I think we should all be grateful that isn’t the case.”

The camp’s quiet takes over, the conversation dying like all others. Even as the void of humanoid conversation disappears, the orchestra of nightlife continues its unabated song, attesting that all is well in the world, despite the unease that creeps around them.

Tik Tik is the first to notice the new addition to the overture. The kobold perks her head up and steps out into the road, turning her gaze toward the direction from whence they came.

“What is it?” Erin says, stepping aside from the kobold. But it is not long before she, too, hears the approaching sound.

It is rolling and rumbling. The sound begins softly and increases.

Through her clawed toes, Tik Tik senses the rumble. She digs her claws into the dirt, her fingers clicking nails together, ready to respond with a slung spell.

Gimmegee perks her head from her book. “That’s… heavy. Too heavy.”

Eshere slinks over towards the others sleeping. “Should I?”

Tik Tik holds her hand up, narrowing her gaze.

Erin trembles. “It’s a monster. I just know it is.” She bites her lip. “But what sort?”

“Mechanical,” Tik Tik says. “No… hooves. Wheels… a coach!”

Gimmegee pulls her watch out of her breast. The gnome takes a deep breath, running her thumb over the cover. Her hands tremble as she strokes the latch that will reveal the time, knowing l what it is she will see when she opens it. With her fear welling up in her chest, she must press it quickly, letting it spring open and revealing the conjoining of two hands. The third ticks along, a tick, tock, tick, until all three are together.

The midnight hour is here, and with it arrives the coach with no head.

A coach, indeed! It’s led by a team of horses, each glowing with the unnatural pallor of the will o’ the wisp, their hides of jet, and their eyes of crimson.

That is, of course, only counting the lead stallion, for the remaining members of the quintet leave the headed steed to lead while they, the beheaded, follow without direction of their own. All of them are bridled with bones and sinew, a regal barding draping the lead horse with skulls, staring eyelessly into the abyss.

And though this determined grim runner is the lead of the animals, it is not the one that carries the whip and the direction, for that comes in the form of a driver, whip in gloved hand. A black cloak, with long folded sleeves and an undercoat that goes down to his boots, is on his broad shoulders. The coat continues to a high collar, but the collar terminates in a top hat, floating above a glowing void where a head should be.

The coach itself shines with macabre beauty. Its ivory blushes in the ghostly light as a cacophony of gallops break through the morass of midnight.

Something grasps Tik Tik's shoulder.

“Yeep!”

“Sshhhh!” Erin hisses, yanking Tik Tik away from the road, wrapping the kobold tightly, and squishing the wizard’s horns against her sizeable breasts.

Tik Tik watches as the carriage approaches, and marvels wordlessly as the lead horse turns its golden gaze, locking onto Tik Tik’s.

For a moment, perhaps not a second more, the kobold wonders if she sees the horse smiling at her.

She has no chance to perceive nor wonder as the creature whinnies, screaming in a horrified surprise, its fragile yet impressive legs buckling as it topples over, head-first into the muddy road.

The phantom coachman jerks the reins but cannot avoid what is coming. Horse after horse tumbles and falls into a pile of carnage, the coach itself crashing onto its side in a din of destruction, a bony wheel flying off and landing right in front of the observant kobold.

The campers all remain quiet as, from the collapsed pile of broken bodies rises up the coachman, his hat gone. He slops off mud where he can on his coat and steps up from the mangled remains of his horses, strolling over to the side of the conveyance as if nothing had happened. He knocks with a gloved hand upon the carriage door, only for it to pop open with the wail of the dead, a ghastly illumination casting a pallid shadow across the chest and shoulders.

He reaches a hand into the unknown depths, where a dainty hand takes it, silently hoisting up the veiled woman in white. She hops off the carriage, hiking her dress up slightly as she walks off to the road's opposite side.

She’s followed by a black and bristly hoof, grabbing the carriage side and hoisting up. A plump pig person in a black dress rolls off, giggling mirthfully as she trots up beside the woman in white.

Following this is a skeletal arm rising up to reveal the rest of the bony business, dressed in a heavy traveler’s coat. The skeleton pulls its sleeve back down, clattering to itself before hopping off the side.

The driver closes the door and walks around towards the roof, towards the side of the road where the campers sit, each of them quiet in the darkness, for someone had extinguished their flame during the approach.

“What is that?” hisses Tik Tik.

“Dunno,” Erin replies, “But let’s not let them find us.”

“You crazy?” snaps Gimmegee. “You two need to get back here now!” Her button-like eyes are wide and glistening with tears. “Now!” she repeats as if that would be enough to snap Tik Tik out of her observations and her sense of wonder.

The headless coachman stops at the roof, touching the downed thing. As he does, a subtle snort and clatter of hooves comes from the front.

One by one, the horses kick back to life, or some semblance of it, stumbling and neighing in protest among one another as they cobble together a semblance of order.

The driver stops, his body turned toward that display a moment, or perhaps he wasn’t? Tik Tik wonders how such a creature could exist. How magical were his senses? Could he taste, see, smell, hear? Is he limited only to touch? What could that touch feel like?

And the others. Who are they? What are they? So many remarkable things on this journey, yet she has hardly reached the destination.

She squirms in Erin’s lap, horns poking and rubbing at the student’s breasts.

“Ngh… T… Tik Tik, please…” the human blushes. “This is really weird, and… and…”

Gimmegee even gasps, unable even to cup her mouth at the sight, for as they were speaking, the driver, unbuttons his cloak, throwing it off of his shoulders.

His back is bare and of an alabaster complexion, but the definition in each muscle as he rolls his shoulders back rolls and strains against the sheer fortitude and magnificence of themselves. He squats down, cupping the bottom side of the overturned carriage. They ripple and bulge as he lifts them up without a sound, breath, or grunt. Only the cracking of material and the slopping of mud as he lifts, and then rests the heavy thing upon his shoulders, pressing his palms upon the leaning something, and then pushing!

The coach slams on the ground, rocking back and then teetering before its weight collapses on the missing wheel and back down onto the coachman!

He presses his hands upon the side again, but his boots dig into the dirt and the mud, slipping, slipping, slipping, threatening to crush him then and there!

If it weren’t, of course, for the magical spectral kobold hand helping to support the weight of the strange and eldritch vehicle.

All parties on that lonely road remain silent, from the bewildered and frightened campers to the spectral and surprised travelers. All were caught off-guard when the kobold stepped up to the teetering coach, rolling the bone-spoked wheel toward the large and headless driver, a magical hand holding aiding him in holding the vehicle up.

“Hihi!” she chirps. “I’m Tik Tik. Nice to meet you!”

The silent driver turns to face the kobold, or his body stands directly in front of her, one hand holding up the coach, while another silently takes the wheel. Standing before him, she can finally appreciate the broad shoulders, the mountainous pectorals, and the field of muscle that is his tight and rippling stomach.

The silent driver slides his hand down the coach's side, lifting it up and slapping the wheel back into place with his free hand, dropping the vehicle with a “thump.”

Tik Tik wipes her brow.

“So, where you going?” Tik Tik asks, dissipating her magical hand. “Friends and I travel down the road. We go see famous wizard. You?”

The driver picks up his coat, slinging it over his shoulders, covering his physique, and adjusting his collar.

“You know, driver silent type. Very hot, though. You living? Spirit? Angel? Demon?”

The headless creature silently walks around to the other side of the coach, thumping his gloved hand against the door. It opens, and he stands aside, his passengers returning individually. First, it is the skeleton. Then it is the veiled woman, and finally, the pig approaches. But she stops, snorting, and smiles at Tik Tik.

“You’re not afraid of us, little one?” she asks an air of mischief in her voice.

“No time be afraid,” Tik Tik says. “When want learn and thirst for driver!” she bounces.

The pig snorts, slapping the door. “Well, aren’t you a riot? You said you’re going to see a wizard? So are we! There’s plenty of room inside for more passengers. It’s bigger than it looks, you know!”

“Great!” Tik Tik says. “Tik Tik will tell her friends!”

There is a rattling of silent protests from the bushes, but the kobold scampers on over, cupping her hands and shouting. “Wake up, friends. We got means of travel on cold and lonely night!”

“You supremely stupid sack of shit!” Gimmegee yelps, hopping from her hiding place and grabbing the kobold by the throat. “Don’t you know who these creatures are? This is a Death Coach! They’ve come to take someone to the afterlife! It could be any one of us. It could be all of us, and you’re just inviting yourself in?”

Tik Tik smiles, fluttering her eyes and croaking, “Harder!”

Gimmegee scoffs and drops the kobold, shrugging to her companions. “Looks like we’ve been found out, gals. Best make the best of it and politely decline.”

“Hold on!” Tik Tik grunts, rubbing her throat. “Listen to Tik Tik. They go to see wizard. We go to see wizard. Maybe they go to see same wizard.”

“N-no, our research!” Erin stumbles out, hastily carrying gathered traveling equipment and supplies. “If they take our primary source, all of our data must be re-done. There’s no way we could get there before they do.”

“Not unless we go with them!” Tik Tik says, tapping her nose.

“You gals better hurry up,” snorts the pig. “Our driver isn’t one to delay.”

The driver had gone to the horses, patting each headless stallion on the back, before he gets to the one in the lead, petting behind the ears.

The head stallion snorts and whinnies, glancing to and fro, stopping on the kobold before blowing a big breath and a loud shout.

The coachman grips the stallion’s reins, pulling him back, getting him to settle down with assuring pats, but not a sound.

Tik Tik scurries over to their side of the coach, thumping the side of the carriage. Its door bursts open, revealing to them a lavish and ample seating area with padded benches and macabre decoration of spine-tinglingly spiny light stands, skull candle holders, and tables with actual skeletal legs for legs.

“You all get in,” Tik TIk says, urging each of her friends onward with quick little taps to their butts as each passes them. Eshere is last, and the slime looks inside, frowning. “Are you sure about this, Tik Tik?”

“What? They dead!” Tik Tik says. “When last time dead person hurt you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘hurt, but Thiffrin Iccran was quite physical in the Tournament.”

“You worry too much. We all good spell casters. Can defend ourselves. Live a little before you join the passengers for real!” The kobold slaps the slime with her tail, though it doesn’t urge Eshere on, leaving a residue on her scales.

“What about you?” Eshere asks, slipping on inside.

“Oh, Tik Tik has plans out here,” the kobold purrs, shutting the door. She scampers up the side of the coach, sitting shotgun.

The driver clambers up to his side of the coach, his spectral weight tilting the whole thing for a moment before he picks up his whip and his rein.

“So, you drive this all the time?” Tik Tik asks.

He doesn’t respond, instead snapping the whip. When he does, the horses accelerate slowly through the winding road.

For a minute, the two sit in silence, Tik Tik watching as the countryside passes by, the cold of the grave shuddering up from all around the coach.

“This so peaceful and quiet,” she muses to herself. “Is this what it like?” She asks. “Being dead?”

The coachman says nothing. Can he say anything? Instead, she sighs, and sits back. “Maybe Tik Tik should go inside. More talkative in there, is it? Unless…” she flutters her eyes. “You want talk no words. Can you hear?”

The driver lifts a hand, extending his thumb upward.

Tik Tik’s grin becomes a toothy trap. “Good, good…!

The haunted coach rolls along the old lonely early morning road, its horses walking at a smoothness impossible for the living to imagine. The cloudy night hides the stars in the sky, leaving only a chasm of darkness shrouded by the gnarled and naked trees encroaching the path.

Tik Tik sits with legs crossed to the right of the headless driver, her kobold tail repeatedly thumping from side to side, her hands clasped, her eyes fluttering.

“So, what you?” the curious kobold asks. Through each question she poses, the driver’s free hand thumbs its confirmation or negation.

“Angel?” Thumb down.

“Devil” Thumb Down.

“Spirit?” Thumb up.

“Ghost?”

No response.

She frowns. “Alive?”

No response.

“Fairy.”

Thumb’s up.

She strokes her chin. “A spirit. Not alive. Not dead. Fairy. No remember life before being driver?”

Thumb down.

Tik Tik folds her arms over her chest, puffing out her cheeks. “So many strange things happen in life. What happen when we die? Do we become new things, falling into different journeys? Will Tik Tik become ghost? Or some sexy nature spirit? But what if Tik Tik just want rest after long and fulfilling life? Or see friends again and now have worry about being in wrong afterlife? Tik Tik never think about the other side. Not like this. Other time have fun with ghost, mummy, and stuff, no think about any of this. It so, so…”

She sniffles, tears welling up in her eyes. “Tik Tik haven’t talked to master Tikit in forever! Is Tikit still alive? If he not, then…”

Her sobs come out but stop just as the weight of a strong, firm hand taps the top of her head with its firm palm.

“Ah?”

Fingers curl, scratching at her horns, while the driver continues his eternal ride through the darkness.

“Ah…”

Tik Tik closes her eyes, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. She stretches her neck, rubbing against the gentle petting of the immense male spirit. Her tail thumps even faster as the two of them continue their silent journey.

The driver slides fingers along her horn, tracing to the point and then back down. He then swirls over where her scales meet the harder substance, pressing against the softer body parts in an exploratory, but not too rough, fashion.

Tik Tik crosses and uncrosses her legs, her toes clenching and unclenching, her breath heavier as his hand travels to the other side.

“Ha…. M… Mister driver…” she sighs, leaning into his touch as his palm cups over her cheek and then his fingers go under her chin.

The kobold tilts her head back, growling, her mouth widening, tongue flopping out as she lets all worries melt away.

“Aah… ah… y-you ever… get cold?”

The driver lingers for a moment before pulling his hand away. Holding tightly to the reins with his opposite hand, he slides his free one up, unbuttoning his coat.

Tik Tik gasps, gripping the bony handrails of her seat.

He rolls his shoulders, setting his upper body free, allowing Tik Tik to see that ivory pallid hue juxtaposing the rippling form, from his mountainous shoulders and even to the perkiness of his perfect nipples, down to his chiseled stomach, like a statue, and the pit of the navel, perfectly marking the beginning of the first signs of hairs trailing down to the treasure down beneath.

“Oh, fuck…” Tik Tik swallows. Despite the cold night air, she flutters her hand before her, shaking her head, leaning back against the seat.

His hand returns, this time placed upon her thigh.

She spreads her legs, draping one arm over the handle, the other undoing the ties of her leggings. “While on the job? Can concentrate, yes?”

He squeezes her thigh, sliding his hand up and down, rolling over her outer to inner.

“By the dragons…” she sighs, her head resting on the coach. “Keep exploring! Your touch… so much conviction. Mmm…”

She hooks her pants, pulling them down, lifting her legs, getting them down all the way to her ankles. He raises his hand to accommodate her and then returns to his ministrations, the hand playing through scales, his thumb sliding up and down at the spot where the thigh meets her most sensitive areas.

“Aaah, S-Such service…” She sighs. “All… w-while… driving!”

The road continues past the copse and to the chilly breezy plains, whereupon he places the rein down, allowing the horses to lead the way.

Once freed, the lead horse neighs, but the driver turns toward the kobold, looming over him with his massive, well-built form, his hand sliding up between her thighs, his rough, calloused fingers brushing over her snatch.

“Aaah…. Ha…. Tik Tik… always love… when someone… touches her… so…” She pushes her hips forward, accepting the fingers as they pet, and as the other palm slides over her cheek, down further, gripping her collar, tugging at her shirt.

Giggling, she hooks her feet into the stirrups, pushing her hips back down to steady herself as she grabs her shirt, lifting it over her head and tossing it next to the driver’s coat.

The cold night abates beyond the glowing warmth of the ghost light fluttering above the driver’s neck, and he leans closer toward her, illuminating her scales with his pallid glow.

The kobold is under his power, hand pressing, stroking, squeezing, and fingers pushing, slipping, invading.

She gasped, only for a solid grip to rest upon her throat, holding it there, not squeezing, but placed right where they could.

Her blue eyes flash with mischief, her tongue running over her lip. “What you want do to Tik Tik, big boy? Want show me some of other side?” her teases come up as a taunting growl.

In response, his fingers close in ever so slightly.

The headless horses pull the skeletal coach down the deathly lane, off towards some inscrutable destination. None living knows precisely the destination of the Death’s Coach, its goal unknown, its stops equally as mysterious. The only sure thing is its tumultuous journey, with its lowest cold and dreary depressions and the highest highs of experience.

Such a high breaks the night's silence and denies the grave's chill as it rises from the throat of the squirming and screaming kobold, her voice echoing through the pitch-blackness of the loneliness of the road. Though her lover has no head with which to express his appreciation of her, he instead uses his hands to play her as an instrument. In this way, the voiceless horseman can express himself, and Tik Tik can enjoy the darkness of the night without fear of its uncertainty.

A thumb presses against the sensitive nub, rubbing and rolling around. The tough flesh of the spectral rider adds a layer of texture to the ordinarily smooth skin of a humanoid, sending microscopic ripples of delight up the kobold’s sensitive body.

She grips the skeletal construction of the coach, panting higher and faster with the more attention that the muscular man gives her. But she can only endure watching him for so long. Letting go of her support and trusting the ride to continue to be safe for her, the kobold latches onto the headless man’s chest, griping over his solid and rigid pecs.

“Oh… oh fucking…” she starts, finger tracing the deep and well-defined contours of muscle. “You must work out lots. At least when not spirit,” she muses.

The horseman does not react to her touch. Would he have gasped or nodded or fluttered his eyes? So many questions go through Tik Tik. So many mysteries flutter past this creature and his skeletal carriage.

“Ah… that thing,” Tik Tik says, wrapping the tip of her tail around his arm, pulling him in toward her love while also taking the opportunity to trace the tip over the bulging definition. “Tik Tik can’t ask too much of you. Tik Tik can never learn everything about you. You seem to like everything Tik Tik, ah, love. Sexy… mysterious… never can, mmm, learn everything!”

His fingers play with her, curling, swirling, splitting, pushing. She hisses and tightens the grip on his arm. “W… wait…!” she huffs. “Pull out.”

He hesitates, and for a moment, the only sound that fills the void of the night is the clopping of hooves upon the old and lonely road.

But he relents, pulling his fingers away from her, sitting up, and letting her tail and hands slip off him.

Tik Tik takes this moment to hop up, sitting on the driver’s lap, facing him, wrapping herself around his impressive bulk, nuzzling her cheek against his sternum, gripping his shredded sides, and giggling. “Eee hehehe…. Tik Tik need hug big strong guys more!” she says, her tail stroking up and down his pant leg. She turns her snout, bopping her nose against him and indulging a moment to take a breath, expecting perhaps the scent of the earth or the strange sweetness that follows the undead. Or, more hopefully, the distinct muskiness that comes from the hard-working body of one who indulges their physical perfection.

But alas, there is no scent. And when she presses her snout against him, lingering for a time, there is a fuzziness to his very being, like he isn’t entirely there. Tik Tik wrinkles her nose and turns away.

“CHOO!”

He reaches into his pants pocket, pulls out a handkerchief, and places it on her nose.

Tik Tik giggles, wiping her snout. “Aw, thankie, thankie,” she says. “But you strange. No ectoplasm. But no flesh, either. Very nice. Very elemental. Is that it? You are the element of death?”

He puts his handkerchief back in his pocket, hands now on the reins, embracing the kobold. He whips the reins, urging the lead horse on, who gallops, thus increasing the speed and the nearly imperceptible bouncing of the coach to that of a wild ride.

Tik Tik clings to his body, her hips pressing against his lap, and it is there that she senses for real that mound in his leggings. She licks her lips, her forehead pressing against him, staring down, grinding her dripping desire on his trousers. “Oooh, wow. Muscles not only thing you have!” she says. “Such a bouncy ride, but Tik Tik want bounce on something else!

Her tail hooks on the hem of his pants, her hands fumbling at the button and the belt, her head pressed to him for support as the rough rocking and springing of the coach through a speedy and uneven road only increases the rubbing and the grinding and the bouncing. She soon tugs the thing down far enough, showing off the patch of curly hair and the faintest hint of the base of his shaft, so thick, with a bulging vein.

“Hehe… Tik Tik wonder, if no have blood, then what makes boner?” She says, pressing her snout to his body, rolling out her tongue, and licking. With a final little tug, she pulls the pants down far enough for the girthy length to spring up, his balls resting just on the hem of his pants.

He shifts slightly, tightening his grip on the reins.

“Oh, must be uncomfortable, be squeezed like this. “Tik Tik teases, fluttering her eyes. “But Tik Tik glad you have at least one head,” she says this, pressing her palm to the hood of that magnificent cock. She squeezes it, biting her lip, sharp teeth slipping back and forth. “You can enjoy some things like other men can, and that means Tik Tik can enjoy you, too.”

He wraps his arms around her, squeezing her sides while guiding the horses.

“You drive, coach,” Tik Tik muses, “While Tik Tik ride you. My headless steed,” she giggles, squeezing the head.

He tenses up.

“Oh, yes… yess…”

Tik Tik is always a kobold to try different things, taking herself to new avenues of delight, particularly in giving her partners pleasure when her partners are such exciting and unique individuals.

Give the coachman, for example. He is professional, caring for his passengers and getting them to their destinations. He is also quick to strip down and show off the hard work of maintaining his body. Tik Tik does have to wonder, though, how much of his chiseled form is an active work or how much of it represents him in a previous stage of life.

How much will Tik Tik have to make sure to leave behind a pretty corpse when the time finally comes for her to disappear to make it to life’s big adventure?

Tik Tik shakes her head, pressing her snout to his chiseled abdominals to bury the bad thoughts. Of course, there’s something new and big and impressive thing to focus on than the ever-present looming of eternity.

What looms instead of the Coachman’s rock-hard cock, as ivory as the rest of him but throbbing with the peculiar need for life. Its girth and head are the perfect balance of thickness and flaring that makes the human member so unique among the males of this world.

The kobold’s scaled fingers wrap around the impressive thing, one hand up higher than the other. Gripping it in two hands is the most appropriate scenario, thanks to their size difference. Even with those soft-scaled things holding tightly to the shaft, there is still more poking up before the head juts out.

“Oooh, you flexing it?” Tik Tik asks. “You naughty boy,” she chuckles, pressing the bottom of her palms against the flesh, stroking upward. When a hand gets to the tip, she squeezes slightly, then moves the hand back down to the base to grasp it again, sliding infinitely upwards as the carriage continues along its long ride through the night.

The kobold forgets all about the travels she and her friends were on. Instead, it focuses entirely on this magnificent figure before her and his silent, almost stoic approach. She would have to rely on every shudder of muscle and every twitch of his dick. She would have to note the slumping of his shoulders and the tensing of his legs and hips. So much expression of desire and delight comes from the head, whether in the focus of the eyes, the flaring of the nostrils, or the delightful shape of the lips. Not even harmonious sounds can escape from the non-existent throat of the headless Coachman. So Tik Tik continues, playing with him almost as if he were a toy made for the specific purpose of delight.

She holds onto the base, squeezing, stroking slowly up and down it, while her other hand rests a palm upon the head, rolling over the sensitive flesh. The texture of the scale of the soft and flared thing is crowned with a bit of a dollop of precum that she smears over the tip.

When she pulls her palm back, a small strand from his hole to her hand breaks, drizzling down over his cock. Tik Tik lifts her palm to her mouth, rolling out her tongue, pressing her muscle to her scales, and slowly tasting the secretion.

Shuddering, the kobold sighs. “Ah, so strange. So wonderful!” she coos. “Many wonderful things here, Tik Tik think. It taste different, but familiar. Will make baby with other ghosts?”

The driver is silent on this reaction, urging his horses forward.

“No response?” The kobold says, a soft growl rising from her chest. “We see about that!” she presses herself against his seat, her face in front of that cock. She opens her maw, salivating at the thought of wrapping her mouth around that pole but holding herself back enough to enjoy taking it slowly.

Her tongue slips out around her front teeth. It flops straight to the apex of that cock, the tip tasting the pearling pre, licking at the flesh around there simply by letting the rocking of the cart take her tongue in different directions.

His cock shudders, twitches, and oozes more of that stuff.

“Hehe… so pent up,” she muses, pressing the tip against that hole, swirling around the edge of it, watching him, seeing if he’d do anything if she pushed her pointed tongue right inside.

His body tenses up, and his hands grip harder on the reins. These alone could mean oh-so-many things, from the utter delight of the new sensation she’s giving him to the contempt and hatred for such a disastrous thing. But one thing adds to the tell that makes her sure of her situation. That’s when his hips tighten, his boots plant on the floor, and he pushes upward, shifting her tongue aside, making his cock kiss her mouth.

Yes, that enthusiastic shoving—that’s precisely what she was looking for from him. It’s enough for her to squeeze the base and lean her head in, engulfing it in her maw's warm and moist breathiness.

The driver leans back, draping one arm between her horns, his reins urging his horses along. He pulls once but tugs again. Then he stomps and cracks the whip.

The lead horse leaps in surprise, whinnying with such volume as to perk the kobold’s head up from her pre-fellatio action. She stares at it, and it at her, its golden eyes bright and wide, and filled with annoyance before it turns back and follows its master’s command.

Tik Tik has had many cocks in her time researching. It’s all part of the fun of her study of the eroarcane. Each phallus provides her with different challenges and logistics, from the massive members of the giant folk to those her size. But there is one issue she has always enjoyed tackling—the issue of oral sex.

Many species were blessed with mouths catering to specific functions, from the simplest mastication to the formation of utterances and communication that few could even dream of. Of course, the trick in Tik Tik is the long snout and near reptilian teeth and maw that all kobolds possess. For such a mouth, some adjustments need to be made. One thing that is a constant, no matter the cock, is the amount of trust the recipient needs to allow her even to attempt such a thing.

And when the road becomes bumpy, that is even more the case.

Tik Tik could swear that just as she looked at the horse at the lead of the coach, the once smooth riding became a much more tumultuous affair. It’s hard to ask the strapping man whose member she now held if something odd was going on with the ride simply because of the lack of a head upon his shoulders. Wherever this crazy journey leads her, she takes it in stride and focuses on the here and now.

And here, of course, is the big and meaty member of the spiritual driver, whose trust would implicitly fall upon her not to scratch or chomp on his cock, despite the rough riding and the sharp, predator teeth that all kobolds of her kind have.

So she opens her maw wide than those whose lips could quickly seal around such members could do and rolls her tongue out like a welcoming carpet for the blood-filled organ. Of course, this tongue is moist and bumped with so many taste buds, providing the cock a supple and textured walkway as she slides her head down over the shaft.

Her tongue cradles the cock, sides wrapping around it and nestling it in a straight shot with her muzzle. Her favorite technique at this point is to slide the thing upward, letting that large head press against the roof of her mouth.

The penis squishes against that ridged top, and once pressed, Tik Tik bobs her head down along the shaft. She makes up for what she lacks in the pure suction power of many humanoid lips in the practiced skill and dedication for her partner’s pleasure.

The back of her tongue pushes the cock upwards as her bobbing slides the head towards the back of her mouth. The pressure from both sides massages and squeezes the thing, keeping it in a warm and moist environment. While she cannot suction or adjust the thing from all sides simultaneously, she lets her hand make up for it, wrapping around the base and stroking.

The driver’s muscles tense up, his approval apparent when he presses his hand to the back of her head. He pushes her downward, forcing his cock further down her throat.

Tik Tik can handle it, most certainly. Sliding further and further down until her nose touches the musky bush of the dashing stranger.

The kobold laments the lack of muskiness to the driver. The strange absence of taste upon his meat, but the texture she feels as she licks and bobs over the cock is enough to make up for such natural sensations. There’s an almost grittiness to his unearthly flesh, not in an unpleasant way, but in a different, unique, fantastic way. While there is no taste, that texture sends little vibrations of delight through her tongue and mouth, and she wonders just how much she can get out of him if he were to take her and pound away.

But such a thing would be impossible given the circumstances, would it not?

He thrusts his hips forward, the cock head punching at her uvula and sinking into her throat. The kobold’s eyes roll back, and tears well up, but they are tears of delight, and what pain she feels with each thrust forward into her face is pain that hurts good. Such is the way of the eroarcanist, to find the good in the bad and the great in the good. The tramping of hooves and the rolling of bony wheels are now accompanied by the suction and the gulping sounds rising from the kobold’s throat, which bulges with each shove down into her, deeper and deeper.

Of course, it was only quickly that each thrust would hit the back of her throat, making her gag and cough. She has to scurry up and even conjure up a magical disk to rest her knees before getting perfectly horizontal to the rider.

Rolling onto her back and laying on the floating platform, the kobold can let him dive deeper and deeper with every thrust, her hands on her tummy, her throat a cock sleeve for this magnificent, vivacious man. However, he is the coachman of this ghastly carriage.

And nothing can ever end this fantastic ride for her, except for the natural course of things, and soon, very soon, she figures, from the twitching of his cock and the erratic jerking of his hips, he would finish very, very soon.

And she’s correct, as with one final thrust, he places his hand upon her chest, sinking his cock deep down into her, and releasing, spurt after spurt, deep into her gullet. When he pulls out of her, his ectoplasmic semen drips down off the side of her mouth and over her nose, oozing out and falling onto the footrest of the carriage.

Of course, it’s never a good idea to distract a driver. This is something TIk Tik hadn’t thought of until he came right at that sharp turn, and that disobedient head horse seemed unable to take the road, despite the rugged terrain in front of them.

But for a split second, Tik TIk is fulfilled.

So many things happened all at once. First, Tik Tik received an otherworldly facial from the burly coachman. Second, the driver, apparently overcome with the overwhelming experience of getting head, loosens his grip on the reins. Thirdly, as if by some means waiting for such an opportunity to occur, the lead horse swerves and bucks.

Oh, so many things are happening in quick succession, all leading to some determined fate—if that is not an adequate allegory for the experience of life, then what is?

However, all Tik Tik cares about now is how far her kobold body flies off the conjured seat and into the dismal night air. A wizard may be a nearly impossible threat to deal with. The one thing they never enjoy is a surprise.

For a few moments, her body flies with no control, naked sensations of rising and falling cling to her body, the force of gravity clawing at her and sending her plummeting to her fate. But while everyone falls, how hard is yet to be determined until the moment of impact.

Whether he flew off himself or was launched, none can say, but What Tik Tik does know is that the strong arms of the driver wrap around her, his heavier, bulkier frame rolling her out of the way of most harm as he crashes against the sturdy trunk of a tree, falling to a heap upon the ground.

Tik Tik lays buried under his rugged body, the shock like a cold slap that tingles before she snaps back to awareness. She skitters from under him, shaking his shoulder and calling out to her partner.

A shadow looms over her, and she spins around, only to see the head horse staring down at her with bright yellow eyes.

“You mess up ride twice now,” she snaps. “You’re a bad horse!”

The horse snorts but offers up no response otherwise.

A slight shift turns her attention to the downed driver. He pushes himself up. Despite the terrible throw he went through, the only evidence of the collision is the marks of mud upon his trousers and boots.

“Are you okie dokie?” Tik Tik asks, clinging to the driver’s leg.

He pats her on the head but pushes her away, marching up to the carriage.

A passenger door bursts open, and out from it stomps the skeleton. It clacks and rattles, poking the driver in the pecs. The driver remains silent to this berating and stands still as the skeleton stomps forward, passing Tik Tik and unhooking the horse in the front. He then climbs up on the driver’s seat and, from there, tosses the discarded clothing of the rider and his shotgun passenger.

Tik Tik walks up to the door, but the black pig pokes her head out, snorting at Tik Tik and saying. “Sorry, Miss, but we’re late, so your friends will accompany us to the old wizard’s place while you troublemakers stay here. We’ll come back for you later.”

“You can’t just leave Tik Tik out here without friends!” The kobold snaps, green energy forming in her hands.

The driver places his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.

“Sorry, sweetie, but no one can stop this coach from reaching its destination, not even a powerful wizard.”

Eshere pokes her head out from behind the pig lady. “Don’t worry about us, Tik Tik. Everything is fine. I’ll have a report written for you when we next cross paths.”

The skeleton cracks the whip, sending the headless horses riding off into the darkness of the predawn hours, the door slamming shut behind him.

Tik Tik huffs and sits on a fallen log, hands on her cheeks, staring down. “Aw, poo. Tik Tik feel she in some parable. At least know where meet friends if ever split up.”

The driver grabs the rein of the head horse, leading it over to a tree, where he promptly ties the thing tight.

“You okay with that horse?” Tik Tik asks, hands on the log. “It seem tricky.

The horseman pats the stallion and spins around to Tik Tik, shrugging.

“It could knock you off if you try ride it. You okay with that?”

The rider gives her a thumbs up.

Soon, the two of them are sitting on the log, the kobold drawing circles in the ground with her toe. “All Tik Tik has is her clothes. All things left in the coach. They will come back, yes?”

Thumbs up.

“Okay, well, if not, Tik Tik will use all magic make them pay. You know, Tik Tik mad at them, but mad at horse. Not mad at you. You good. Very good.”

The rider shrugs.

She blows a raspberry, rubs her nose, and looks around at the silent darkness of the woods around them. “This place so strange. Not real, no. That wrong. Remind me of Lily Nymph domain, but shivers.” She wraps her arms around her shoulders. “So, the old man… he is one that you will take to afterlife, yes? Or the skeleton will, yes?”

Thumbs up.

“That’s what Tik Tik feared. Old man go to die and leave with all his knowledge he didn’t write down. Tik Tik no want that. Tik Tik want write everything. Let people know when time to go.” She glances at him. “Time yet for Tik Tik?

Thumbs down.

She smirks. “Wait long for others?”

Thumbs up.

“Wanna fuck?”

Thumbs up.

Left alone on the quiet and lonely roadside, the kobold wizard can make her own way in the world while death rolls along its merry way, taking what it deems appropriate. So, there she is, with only the headless coachman, his last remaining horse tied to a nearby tree, and an inexhaustible amount of horniness spread between them.

It’s time to enjoy life to its fullest, even in the shadow of death.

The Dullahan sets to work, scooping up the little kobold in his arms. Their size difference is comical, with nearly the entirety of her body the size of his broad chest. This gives the kobold something to hold onto and rub against, a soft, gentle growl rising from her chest, not unlike the contented purr of a cat.

His hands stroke down her back, tracing down her spine, sliding over her side, letting each scale ridge run over the calloused workman’s hands until both cups at her butt. He spreads her cheeks, slipping his fingers underneath her, trailing between, feeling for her drooling sex.

She presses her snout against his pectoral, rolling out her tongue. That long and pointed thing swirls around one nipple, erect, perhaps, from the cold, perhaps from his excitement from being with her. It’s difficult to discern, but the effect is the same, a stiffening of the pinkened flesh, a shuddering in his arms as he holds her, and a new point from which she can swirl and lash her tongue to stimulate him further.

Once he teases her taint with his touch, he pulls back, resting her on the seat of his impressive member.

Tik Tik wraps her legs around that impressive thing, her thighs squeezing against that girthy and potent pole. Slowly, she rocks her hips back and forth, letting her body milk that shaft, her sex sliding over it, leaving a trail of its glistening delight along the topside of the long thing.

Her long tail also rests on it, stroking along with her, curling downward. There, she sways back and forth, sliding along the tip, stimulating it with a sway this way and that. The cock trembles, the anticipation certainly taking him for a ride.

Hearing him would be delightful, but she cannot have that with the strange fey spirit with no head. Instead, she must make do when he falls to his knees, showing he is ready for the next portion of their dance.

“Eeeh hehe… what you plan do?” she teases, massaging his shoulders. “Big strong driver can do anything to Tik Tik. No need worry about hurt her. Tik Tik know all sort magic. Can fuck many big cocks and not get hurt. So, do what you want. Use Tik Tik like a hole. She can take it.

The horse snorts.

The dullahan wraps the kobold in a big hug, squeezing her and falling forward, knocking her to the earth. The soft dirt reminds the kobold of her home, making a calming effect as the gritty soil rubs against her.

He looms over her, his chest pressing her cheek against the ground, his hips rising up, and his cock sliding out from between her legs, resting there at the tight kobold hole, that goal of many a fantastical partner once they meet Tik Tik.

She shudders, gripping onto his shoulders, claws digging into it. Here it comes, the main event. Is it going to be worth it after losing her transportation? That is the roll of the dice in life, for sure.

He presses his girthy head against her wanting slit, the thing spreading her out nice and wide, wider than any of the eggs she would often lay. She grits her teeth, tilting her head back as she feels the sense of delight shock up through her body, only for more of them to arrive when he pushes deeper into her.

The sensation would be a tight fit for him, but one that would eagerly accept him from the drenched lubrication. She offered to be his fuck hole, which her body naturally made her be. So silently, he pushed forward, his cock spreading her and her body squeezing his dick, making for the perfect thing to rub against him for his own delight.

“Haaagh…. Gah…. Fuck…” She grips his sides, claws digging into the burly body of the magnificent man. She would have to vocalize for both of them, and Tik Tik is more than fine with that.

He thrusts forward, his cock so deep into her that it would break a normal kobold in two. But Tik Tik is always prepared, giving herself the magic necessary to save such a humiliating demise. Her spell adjusts the space within her, allowing him to be big but not so big as to rip her in two. Instead, there’s this big meaty cock that spreads her and bulges her stomach, going up to where mammals would have a naval and sliding in and out of her, bouncing against her innermost walls.

“AAAAgaaah, fwaaaah! Hayyaaa!” Her cries are inarticulate howling as the creature of the night she has become, her toes wriggling, claws digging, her tail thrashing, all while her body slurps and grips around the dullahan’s rod, taking him, milking him, giving him the wildest ride of his life.

His shoulders arch back, his hips thrusting forward, his whole body trembling when he lets loose the torrent of cum, firing over and over into her, inflating the stretchy body of the small dragon person. Soon enough, the sheer volume of his emissions is too much for her. His cock rockets out as streams of white burst from the lips, leaving the kobold a twitching, oozing mess, her cheek against the ground, drooling from her mouth and sex.

It is a wild, wild ride, indeed. And one she is going to remember!

Deep in the darkness of the predawn hours, Tik Tik lies sprawled out on the ground, oozing with her womanhood filled with the release of the manly and powerful Dullahan driver. Her lover sits up, his chest rising and falling, his hands upon his knees. The last vestiges of his orgasm leak out onto the ground between the two as he sits and waits.

Tik Tik takes a few breaths before she can push herself up with her elbows, her tummy groaning as she curls up, more lewd fluids leaking out of her as she sits there. “Ah… Tik Tik… hardly feel herself,” she says, biting her lip. “You did really good job, Coachman.”

The headless man stands up with little more response, gripping the edge of his trousers and pulling them up.

“N-no, wait!” Tik Tik’s toes curl once and twice, and then she hops up to her feet, her legs wobbling. “L-let Tik Tik take care of that!”

With a snap of her fingers, a sheen of magic coats over him, all dirt and sweat and cum disappearing off of his body. He pats his chest and stomach and even grabs his junk before he pulls his pants back up.

“See, Tik Tik know some good trick!” The kobold says, snapping and cleansing herself of all detritus as well. “Now, what do we do? We wait here?”

Tik Tik’s clothing floats toward her at the wizard’s call, and she asks her question while slipping everything back on. When she hooks her cloak back to her shoulders and props the hood back over her head, she realizes the silence is darker than usual. Nothing is living here, save for the trees, bringing themselves to mimic the appearance of death as their last leaves snap off and fall with an unassuming finality. Its purpose is finally done. Its usefulness as a life source is done.

While Tik Tik ponders this truth of the universe, she turns toward her companion, only to find him standing with his coat and cloak back on, but stomping around the roadside. He is Such an inscrutable loner, but for the few minutes they were together, she knows he is a man who prides himself on service.

What else she also notices is that the horse is gone.

Tik Tik hops up, spinning her tail below her and forming her disc. She flies up to the Dullahan. “What happen? Where horse? Do know?”

He lifts his arm, pointing his thumb down.

“So, that it then? We stuck here tonight?”

Thumb down.

“Should Tik Tik still be worried?”

Thumb up.

“Tik Tik go find horse. Can use magic. Sound good?”

There’s a moment of hesitation.

“Sound good?”

Thumb up.

Tik Tik rises a bit, flipping through her book and reciting the spell to help locate the creature. She visualizes it, the flowing mane, the piercing golden eyes, the skulls adorned around its muscled shoulder.

“Horse… horse… where is horse…”

The spell, sure to work on such a creature as a stallion, bears no connection. “Blast it!” she curses, swooping back down to the Dullahan. “Tik Tik can’t find it. Are horses special too? Like spirits like you?”

Thumbs up.

Tik Tik curses. “We need search quickly if find horse, but quiet too, yes?”

Thumbs up.

But a snort makes the kobold spin around. Standing on the road just to the edge of the darkened horizon, the horse watches the two of them with its head high, its mane flowing.

“Okie dokie! Let’s get it!” the kobold says, clapping her hands together.

But at that loud sound, the stallion rears up and turns.

“No, no, no, wait!”

Suddenly, a firm grip touches the kobold’s vehicle.

“Wait, what you doing?”

The Dullahan gives the kobold a thumbs up before grasping the disc again. He spins around, accelerating the magical conveyance with his strength.

The kobold falls onto her tummy, grasping the edges of her ride, the wind whipping around her from the sheer strength of the spiritual muscles.

He lets go before she can say anything, sending the disc spinning and flying straight down the road.

“Wow-wowo-wo-wo-wow-ow-wow!”

The horse gallops along the road, a hearty, snorting laugh emerging from it, only to turn its head, its golden eyes widening.

Tik Tik’s disc slows down in its spinning just in time for the kobold to appear next to the running beast. The kobold smacks her head and shakes off the dizziness, wondering if she heard what she thought she heard, and then fires off a magical bolt at the escaping creature.

The beast bounces out of the way, and for sure this time she hears a laugh.

“That’s how want to play it?” Tik Tik says, gritting her teeth. “Okie dokie, then!”

She dives at the steed, her disc disappearing, her arms and legs wide, and she lands upon its back, digging her claws and toes into it! “Stop, horsie, stop!”

The horse rears up with a mighty bellow before it stomps back onto the ground, rushing away. This time with the kobold hanging on, clinging desperately to its back, lest she be left on the dark road without a guide through the mysterious darkness.

Just when the kobold thinks she had a handle on the mysteries of life, now, it throws another strange misdirection at her.

Or, perhaps this is just a weird fucking night, and she put way too much thought into a one-night stand and a day of adventuring.

Time, introspection, and lots and lots of writing will tell!