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This is NOT a complete story. This is a three-chapter PREVIEW of the recently-published fantasy erotica ebook THE COLLECTED FANTASY ENVOY EROTICA. If you're interested in the complete book, check it out on Amazon and Smashwords!

*Amazon Kindle: * https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MYOTRI3

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/683298

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THE STORY: Tobias of Winterbourne embarks on an epic multi-year journey throughout the world of Ximenes, visiting distant mystic lands as diplomatic envoy and ambassador for his king. Along the way he meets many exotic women from all walks of life, leading to one lusty encounter after another amidst his tumultuous adventures.

THE COLLECTED FANTASY ENVOY EROTICA brings together the first four novels of the FANTASY ENVOY EROTICA series into one volume. Each story is meant as a stand-alone tale, but they can all be strung together to form an ongoing epic narrative. Each book is filled with memorable characters, hot steamy sex, fun adventure, and a vividly realized fantasy world.

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In this excerpt, nearly a year into his journey, Tobias stops at a tavern in the kingdom of Firamos and learns of a most unusual establishment nearby from a very unexpected--but fun--source. Meanwhile, two minotaur are having problems adjusting to their new jobs as brothel guards

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CHAPTER 1

“Here come my girls now," said the five-inch-high pixie named Primrose. “I'm sure you'll find our show well worth your coin."

She wore only a fancy magenta hat and stockings, with the rest of her feminine charms on full display, including a tiny patch of light pink pubic fur to match her outfit. She stood next to Tobias' frothy mug of ale, scritching at the eye-ridges of his pet cockatrice. The small creature rumbled happily.

Tobias of Winterbourne smiled. He was amazed that such a tiny female could speak as clearly as a fully grown human. But then, pixies were inherently magical. “They're all very lovely," he observed of the quintet of fairies fluttering down from the rafters to the bar top. “But not as much as their enchanting leader."

The faerie doffed her hat and flicked her silvery wings as she bowed. “You must please many a woman with that honeyed tongue," she said with a wink. Tobias enjoyed the sight of her shapely bare rump as she turned to join her troupe. Too bad it was barely the size of his thumbnail.

One of the faeries, a slim blue-skinned female with hair that shimmered like pond water, pulled Primrose aside. They spoke in hushed tones. The blue pixie stole a glance at Tobias, then at Pokra, then whispered to her leader again.

“Is everything all right?" Tobias asked.

Primrose nodded. “Hyacinth here is just tired. The poor thing has been at this all day. This will be her last performance tonight, is all."

The pixies assumed their places around the cleared space on the countertop. An adorably plump pixie matron walked to the center. Since her only stitch of clothing was an inverted daffodil flower worn like a hat, she had to pantomime a curtsy to their audience of one. She tucked a fiddle under her chin and strummed away, joined a chord later by Hyacinth playing a flute. For all her purported exhaustion, Hyacinth cavorted and danced energetically as she worked her instrument.

A few nearby patrons craned their necks in to watch. The rest of the tavern room barely raised an eyebrow. From what Primrose had said, they were recurrent performers here, and many of the regulars had long since gotten used to their routine.

Cartwheeling onto the countertop space was an tangerine-skinned beauty with hair that wavered upward constantly like it was aflame. She was joined by an indigo-skinned fairy with a smooth pate and winsome, coal-dark eyes. They stopped in the center, spreading arms to launch small miniature fireworks of fairy sparkles all around.

Through the haze of color strode Primrose, sauntering forward through the center in the slinkiest walk she could manage. She bowed and doffed her hat just in time for the last of their troupe to somersault over her head from behind and land in front to perform a perfect split. All used their magic to swirl the colors about themselves as they launched into a spectacular acrobatic dance routine, with the tempo of the music getting faster and raunchier by the beat.

Pokra, Tobias' pet cockatrice, woke momentarily at the sound of the music. He regarded the faeries blankly, then yawned and went back to sleep, thoroughly unimpressed.

Not so his owner. Watching a half dozen fairies jump and prance about was much more entertaining than Tobias would have thought, and not just because they were all exotic naked beauties. Only the two fairies playing the instruments used their wings, but they joined in on the acrobatics where they could, swooping and playing about as the other four tumbled, swayed, and gyrated about with amazing coordination.

The girls were not shy about groping each other in very teasing ways, with hands gliding over the breasts and buttocks of whoever passed close by. Their fingers would always come to within a millimeter of touching each other's pubic mounds, but never quite connecting. A few of his fellow patrons moaned in frustration when one lass appeared about to nudge her nose between the legs of another, only to twirl away at the last minute at a change in tempo.

Finally, the dance came to a climax with a big flourish of music and miniature magic fireworks. Primrose was in the air with the fiddle player, and together they unfurled a scroll inscribed with big, clear letters that read, VISIT THE DEBAUCHERY. Below it was a simplified map, indicating a spot about a day's ride east of the town that housed the tavern.

The tiny women bowed to their audience, their chests heaving. They were met with a smattering of applause. The most enthusiastic came from Tobias. “That was great!" he said. He fished out a silver coin and slid it over to Primrose. “Well worth it. The most entertaining thing I've seen in months."

“A silver crown!" Primrose exclaimed, obviously very pleased that Tobias had paid her three times more than she had asked for. She picked up the coin and made it disappear, folded away into some magical space Tobias could only guess at. “Thank you so much."

The other faeries noticed Pokra and went over to coo and scritch at the small feathered creature. They apparently found him adorable. The cockatrice barely roused, but was more than happy to let them pet him in all his favorite spots.

“I wish my king could have seen your troupe," Tobias said. “His Majesty King Cassius loves the unusual, especially when complimented by lovely ladies."

“King Cassius?" asked the plump fiddle player. “Of Raelen?"

The human nodded. “I am a diplomatic envoy in his personal service."

The matronly faerie giggled. “I met Cassius years ago when he was merely a young man sowing his seed to the wind. A most… strident fellow, as I recall. He asked for a 'special' show from the troupe I was with at the time."

Tobias raised an eyebrow. “A 'special' show?"

The fiddle player and the troupe leader exchanged sly grins. Primrose fluttered up to alight on the envoy's shoulder. She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “Oh yes, we offer 'special' services to certain generous patrons after hours, if you are interested."

She bent even closer, and Tobias could feel her small breasts dangling against his earlobe. Her voice got even lower and breathier. “Imagine a bevy of small, naked women climbing all over your big human manhood, or having us play with each other in any way you commanded as you watched, or both. Imagine the sight of it, all those small but oh-so-slithery faerie bodies rubbing up against you in such dirty, dirty ways. Only two silver crowns, and for an extra we could all oil ourselves up for even more fun."

Tobias shifted, trying to control the stirring in his leggings as he did indeed imagine it. But he slowly shook his head as Primrose pulled away. “I have to admit that is a very tempting offer. But as lovely as you ladies are, I would be too nervous about accidentally moving the wrong way and hurting one of you, or maybe even drowning someone when things came to a conclusion."

“Drowning?" Primrose barked out a small laugh, sitting down on his shoulder. “Well aren't you a confident fellow! But it is your choice. Just let us know if you change your mind."

“I am interested in this 'Debauchery' place, though. I've heard stories of it back in Raelen. Is its reputation really deserved?"

“Very much so!" Primrose declared. “And I am not just saying that because we are paid to advertise it. It is the most luxurious and notorious, brothel in the known worlds. The landholder Lady Rhiannon has been running it for over a century now. She is a sorceress of no small power, and she has spent many decades gathering beauties of every known races and persuasion to pleasure her guests. If faeries do not tickle your fancy, I am sure you will find something there that will."

The human rubbed his thinly-bearded chin. “I may check it out, then. It is more or less on my way."

“If you do, tell them Primrose sent you. We get a commission for every customer we refer."

“Will do."

The Faerie leader stood, craning her neck around Tobias' head toward the door. “Whoops. There's a merchant who is a steady customer of ours. I'm afraid we must move on. Farewell, Envoy Tobias." She clapped her hands to get the attention of her troupe. “Girls! To work!"

The other faeries tore themselves away from Pokra, who murfled in frustration that all the petting was over with. The faeries flittered across the room. Tobias noticed that the blue-skinned Hyacinth was missing from their number. She must have retired for the night, as Primrose said.

The matronly fiddle-player lingered for a few moments to talk to Tobias. “When you do return to Raelen, sir, please tell your king I said hello. And that I would love to 'perform' for him again someday."

“I certainly will, Miss…?"

She pointed toward the yellow flower on her head. “Daffodil."

“Of course."

She rewarded the human with a very saucy wink good-bye, then fluttered away to join the others.

C** HAPTER 2**

Pythagorus the minotaur was in love.

“You two are the biggest IDIOTS in history!"

Her name was Rhiannon, a sorceress. She possessed rich chestnut hair as long as his arm, creamy alabaster legs that went on forever, and a hefty bosom most males would gladly die snuggled in. A gossamer azure gown hugged her body tightly wherever it didn't teasingly reveal.

“If all the IDIOTS in the world got together to choose their leader, they'd probably all die in a war deciding which of you deserved to be King IDIOT!"

And those eyes. Velvet mahogany orbs deeper than time. She was rumored to be nearly two centuries old, so he was sure that she would have a lot to teach an eager young male like himself.

“Repeat after me, IDIOTS," Rhiannon hissed. “Pixies are NOT snack food!"

She was also his boss.

“Look, it was an honest mistake," Artecius, Pythagorus' older brother, said. “She was just standing there right next to that fig bowl. I guess I wasn't paying attention…"

Rhiannon's fists balled so hard Pythagorus heard knuckles popping. “Those rare Taoan figs I had imported specifically for Duke Ladram at the cost of a gold crown per pound? The ones all employees--except for two IDIOT guards here barely eight weeks--understood they weren't supposed to touch? Those figs?"

Art drew a breath to say more, but Pyth kicked him in the shin.

“What I cannot understand," Rhiannon went on, “Was how you kept on chewing afterward. Can't you tell the difference between a pixie and a fig?"

“Those pixies don't exactly go easy on the pudding, if you know what I mean," Art said with a chuckle.

“Figs don't scream for a minute straight while their legs are being chewed off!"

Art shut up.

Rhiannon growled and clawed at the air in frustration, no doubt wishing she had hold of their throats. “You two are lucky Fae people are much tougher than they look. Gardenia will recover. But in the meantime I'm down an experienced castle guide and her clan is howling for monetary recompense for the attack. If I had any ready replacements you two, I'd fire you on the spot."

“Look, we'll make up for this, somehow," Pythagorus ventured.

“Damn right you will! I'm having enough trouble with the pixie clans as it is. Always bitching for better pay and shorter hours. And you two fucked that up even more! Your pay will be docked by half until those figs and the healing spells used on Gardenia are fully paid for, and extra to satisfy her clan so I don't have to hear more shit from them. Two hundred gold crowns should cover it."

Art's face went ashen as he did a few quick calculations. “But that will take us more than two years to pay off!"

“No complaints!" the sorceress growled. “You two get all kinds of perks, and all you really ever have to do is stand around and look menacing. Yet you can't even get that right! Consider yourselves lucky I don't dress you in gowns and wigs and sell you off every night to the highest bidder!"

“Wait a minute. Could we really make money like that?" He rubbed his chin and looked over Pythagorus with a raised brow. “How about if it was just one of us?"

Pyth smacked his brother hard on the back of the head.

CHAPTER 3

A human servant carrying a stack of linens bustled by the minotaur brothers in one of the castle's tight corridors. Art growled at him. The small man yelped and cowered against the wall until they passed. Art's foul mood improved ever so slightly.

Artecius and Pythagorus had to flee from their home on the world of Animis because of Art's many gambling debts. Figuring they had better put as much distance between themselves and their stabby debtors as possible, they had barely managed to scrape enough coin together to afford passage through the magical Gate to the human world of Ximenes. They ended up wandering Ximenes' human kingdoms for years, bouncing from one of Art's many money-making schemes to another. Landing jobs as the Debauchery's guards was the best bit of luck they had in a long time.

Animisians, especially minotaurs, were relatively uncommon on Ximenes. Artecius and Pythagorus were both a good foot taller than even the tallest human, with heavy natural musculature, curving horns on their foreheads, and facial features that reminded many of bulls. They could prove very imposing to people used to much more mundane folk like humans and dwarves. Lady Rhiannon used that to her advantage. She made sure they wandered through widely-trafficked areas of the Debauchery while on duty, decked out with imposing-looking weapons, to tamp any potential trouble from patrons.

Pyth was glad that so far, their only altercations had been with drunken humans and the occasional dwarf who could barely hold their fists up. Despite their size, neither he nor his brother were warriors or even had much experience fighting. Their usual strategy whenever they met serious violence was to run the hell away from it.

The minotaur brothers weren't the only security at the brothel. As with any other castle in the kingdom of Firamos, the Debauchery was required to maintain a garrison of real soldiers, fifty or so in this case. They were usually kept separate in the large northern barbican while the main keep was dedicated to Lady Rhiannon's business. Many of the soldiers worked as guards in the brothel a few days a week, and were paid 'in trade' by time with Rhiannon's girls along with their usual military pay. Add a smattering of imposing mercenary guards like Artecius and Pythagorus, and the Debauchery saw little real trouble within its walls.

“Your girlfriend is a real bitch," Artecius grumbled.

“She's not my girlfriend," Pythagorus said wistfully. “You really should have been paying attention to that pixie."

“Like this is all my fault."

“It is!"

Art put his arm around Pyth's broad shoulders. “Little brother, don't forget that if it wasn't for me, that gang back on Animis would have carved us up for steaks. And who took care of you after Dad and Mom took off ten years ago? Huh? We were barely teens. Who's always looked out for you?"

Pythagorus sighed. “You."

“Now look, we've had some setbacks, but I did manage to land us this sweet gig here, didn't I? Where you've found the love of your life, right? Rhiannon won't stay mad forever. And she does actually know your name now instead of you just being a faceless set of horns. That's something, right? Years from now when you two are together, you'll look back on all this and laugh. At least when you aren't changing the diapers of whatever little abominations you two have."

Pyth smacked his brother in the arm for that. Art punched back. A few blows later they were snickering, trying to see who get the other to flinch more.

They reached the guards' ready room and swung the door open. A trio of girls were already waiting for them.

“Hey boys!" giggled Vilsie, wiggling her bouncy bosom as she doffed her robe, revealing her plump, curvy nude body. “About time you got here. Unbuckle those breechcloths and let's get started."

Lady Rhiannon knew guard duty in a brothel could prove very distracting for any healthy male, and she detested using eunuchs. So she arranged for hired guards to have the edge taken off their sexual urges before their shifts by having volunteers among the girls give each a quick manual orgasm.

Pythagorus did have to admit that he usually could concentrate better afterward. Or at least he wasn't constantly distracted by every stray pair of bared tits that wandered by, like he had been his first few days on duty.

Vilsie unlatched Pyth's belt with well-practiced ease and pulled his breechcloth down. Vilsie was a small, cute human redhead, with curly locks, a rounded face, and freckled cheeks. She sported an amazingly generous, freckled bosom topping a plump curvy figure. She often volunteered to be the minotaurs' pre-shift “helper," especially for Pyth.

Art paired up with a purple-scaled dragonkin female named Irla, who purred with long-practiced theatricality as the minotaur's hands felt up her softly-scaled body. The older brother preferred Animisians who were more similar to himself, humans from their homeworld who had been altered by magic there to vaguely resemble various totem animals. Often the brothers had to accept whoever happened to volunteer that day, but if there was one of the Debauchery's handful of Animisian girls present, Art always chose them.

Pyth had very different tastes. He absolutely loved human women. Animisian women with their fur or scales or feathers could be very nice, but something about smooth skin and small-nosed faces drove him to instant distraction. Human females simply seemed so elegant and exotic to him.

Vilsie had definitely been the nicest girl to the minotaur brothers since they started working at the Debauchery, and was probably the closest the pair had to a real friend. She talked with them frequently and had even gotten drunk with them a few times. At first Pyth thought that she might have a thing for minotaurs, but it became obvious that she was amicable and outgoing toward everyone. Just one of her skills as a high-priced courtesan, he supposed. Pyth appreciated her friendliness anyway.

Vilsie cooed in delight when Pyth's member sprang into view. The big minotaur cock was already semi-rigid in anticipation, and when fully inflated would be as big as her forearm. The redhead's small, silky hands stroked him quickly and expertly to full hardness and gave his pulsing shaft a wet, loving kiss on the tip.

She led him by his most sensitive part to a wide, pillow-strewn futon. Laying him down, the cute harlot began stroking his member gently but vigorously. She seemed eagerly into it, while Pyth noticed that Art's partner seemed barely able to hide her boredom while she masturbated his older brother. That was kind of a shame. Irla did have the cutest scaly butt under that long tail of hers…

Vilsie ran her agile tongue up Pyth's length. He arched his back and groaned throatily. “Hey, pay attention to me," she giggled.

He gently stroked her curly hair as she licked him. “S-sorry," he gasped. “Vilsie, you're supposed to save the, uh, good stuff for clients and only use your hands on us. I don't want you getting in trouble."

“What Rhiannon doesn't know won't hurt her." She gave the third girl in the room a conspiratorial wink. “In fact, Tourmaline and I were hoping you could help us practice a little trick. Is that okay?"

“Um, sure…?" the male said, uncertain what he was agreeing to.

Pyth had almost forgotten about the third woman, who had been quietly standing off to the side. Tourmaline was a dark elf, taller than Vilsie with rich, jet black skin. She sported long, snow-white locks flanked by high-pointing ears. Her body was slim and lithe with modest breasts. Unlike Vilsie and Irla, who were fully nude, Tourmaline wore a lacy red corset with matching loincloth. The outfit looked a little threadbare, like it was older and had been used a lot, but still looked amazing on her.

He had seen Tourmaline around the Debauchery before. A dark elf was a rare commodity on Ximenes, even more so than minotaurs, and easily caught the fancy of many customers. She was good friends with Vilsie, who had mentioned that she was one of the oldest and most skilled ladies at the brothel. Not that she looked it. Elves could be centuries old and yet could still appear physically to be in their early twenties.

Pyth gulped nervously as Vilsie gave his member one last squeeze and Tourmaline climbed onto the broad futon with them. Both women very conspicuously began rubbing their crotches, Vilsie's fingers on her orange bush while the elf stroked herself through her silken panties. The soft noises of moist flesh and flashes of pink riveted the minotaur's attention “Uh, what did you girls have in mind?"

“Do not worry," Tourmaline said in a rich voice with just a hint of an otherworldly accent. “You are in good hands. Lie still now."

Vilsie and Tourmaline carefully settled down on their backs and positioned themselves on either side of the male's hips, legs spread wide and interlocking over Pyth's lower half. Slowly, carefully, they aligned their slits with his straining shaft and hunched forward until they made contact. Pyth grunted deeply as their slippery crotches snuggles his thick member between them.

Vilsie smirked. “Oooh. That feels nice... This doesn't work too well with smaller cocks, you know. At least its not as fun for us. But with a big monster like yours, we have something to really work with."

Tourmaline nodded curtly in agreement. “Very nice indeed. Feel him throb, Vilsie..."

The women began moving their hips up and down. As his member got slicker with Vilsie's juices and his own precum, their strokes became longer and stronger. The girls began alternating, one going up while the other slid down. Pyth grunted loudly each time one of their soft feminine mounds brushed against his broad crown, marveling at the difference in texture between Vilsie's soft squishy pussy lips and the slick gusset of Tourmaline's silken panties.

“Hey!" Art called from across the room. He had apparently already finished up, as the dragon girl Irla was wiping her hands and redonning her robes. “No fair! How come my brother gets special attention?"

Tourmaline answered. “Just paying back some favors."

“But…"

“When was the last time you helped us rearrange our rooms like your brother did?" Vilsie added. “Or ride into town to get us that fragrant hay we like? Or run down to the grotto for blankets fresh from the wash? Or anything like that?"

Artecius had no answer and simply fumed in silence, looking away as he got dressed himself. Pythagorus almost snickered. Only his brother could look that grumpy after getting a free handjob from a beautiful dragon girl.

Propped up on his elbows, his attention soon became split between the incredible sight of two beautiful women interlocking their upper thighs on his shaft. He became mesmerized watching two exquisite pair of tits, albeit of very different size, heave and bounce.

Familiar pre-orgasmic tingling built quickly deep within the minotaur's churning sack. The instinct to ram himself somewhere deep was quickly becoming hard to ignore. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, his hands slipped under and clenched both Vilsie and Tourmaline's taut rumps. He began moving them up and down in unison, thrusting his hips up hard to meet every downstroke.

Tourmaline smirked in amused delight, and Vilsie's keening moans only increased the faster and more forceful he got. With one final thrust and a primal chuffing grunt, Pyth shot a powerful jet of white into the air. It arced high and splashed down across Vilsie's freckled thighs and stomach. Tourmaline hunched forward, cooing soft encouragement as she aimed the male's rod so most of his cum landed on the short human woman. Vilsie's eyes shut and her generous breasts gyrated wildly, seeming to genuinely enjoy it.

A few minutes later, the girls cleaned themselves off and pecked Pyth affectionately on the cheek as he lay there, still panting. Both would be heading for the baths now to scrub down and prepare for the coming work shift. Vilsie explained that she was only on light duty that night, basically refilling wine glasses and whatever other errands Rhiannon's apprentice Brizelle thought up for her. But Tourmaline was on full duty, available for use by high-priced noble clients. It was why she had worn the lingerie, so Pyth's seed wouldn't 'spoil' her treasures for her clients.

“Thanks for helping us practice that trick, cutie," Vilsie said as she exited the room behind the dragonkin girl. Vilsie playfully wiggled her bottom. “See you later."

“You owe me one" Tourmaline called after her. The dark elf turned to the minotaur, laying a hand on his broad chest to keep him a moment.

“Is something wrong?" he asked.

“I am aware you have a crush on Lady Rhiannon."

The big minotaur blushed. “Um…"

“Vilsie talks a lot," she explained. “And I am only saying this out of concern. I would not pursue it. She would break your heart."

“Until today I don't think she even knew my name."

“It may be better if it stayed like that. Rhiannon has been known to act on odd whims at times, and though unlikely, you could end up as one of her momentary playthings. But like any cruel child she likes to abuse and then abandon her toys. Trust me on this."

“I'll, uh, think that over. Thanks."

Tourmaline nodded, satisfied at having said what she needed to, and exited herself.