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Breeding Rhell

©2025 Bruno Hirschkoff

Ucion, VianiaFràwic, RhocarnStillwater Cove, Rhocarn

1410 AD – 1420 AD

Rhelliriendra Joanes Iñigo had not intended to become a courtesan. Ten years ago, in 1410, the markhor woman’s life had been vastly different. A second-cousin to the Crown Prince of Viania, she’d had a comfortable, but fairly inconsequential life in the shadow of royalty. Third in line to the Duchy of Ladron, she was well educated, trained in courtly manner and politics, and spent much of her time in the extensive library in her parents’ sprawling home on the shore of Lake Thalysion, north of Ucion. She always knew she would never attain the title of Duchess Ladron. It had been drilled into her from a very young age; she was too far removed from the royal heredity, and at most could aspire to being a trusted advisor to her second-cousin when he inherited the title. She was not bitter about her position, although there were times she resented feeling like a ‘spare;’ someone kept in the broom closet of contingency just in case a mystery plague struck the entirety of the ducal heredity and their first, and second positions in the ascendancy.

The problem with living a sheltered and protected life on the fringes of royalty, is boredom. A young Rhelliriendra entertained fantasies of courting handsome princes, of marrying her way up the royal line to become a princess. As she grew up and observed the realities of such positions, her view changed. By her teens, Rhelliriendra grew more interested in learning the arts of subtle statecraft; persuasion, diplomacy, and the somewhat taboo but widely acknowledged practice of Aethyr-shaping. She developed her knowledge and honed her skills, and by her late teens was highly literate and well-read, and was able to summon and shape Aethyr to a level well beyond her years. So impressed was her tutor that he offered to make her one of his formal apprenti, to be trained as an Aethyrshaper to the standards of the Ucion Guild of Aethyr.

It was during the first year of that apprenticeship, in 1410 when she was eighteen, that she met Gildorio Alemieria. A markhor like her, he was almost exactly her equal in the social hierarchy. He hailed from Durion, the political capital of the neighbouring kingdom of Tironia, on the opposite shore of Lake Thalysion from Ucion. Two years her senior, he was tall and handsome with wide, strong shoulders and a narrow waist, and with horns that twisted and curled upward over his head to such an extent that he needed to tilt his head backward to walk beneath low doorways. His manner was polite and courtly at first, but it didn’t take long for Rhelliriendra to coax him to step out from behind his veneer of learned propriety.

Visitation between them was not openly permitted; the two royal lines were engaged in deepening factional divisions, so Rhelliriendra contented herself—for a time—with seeing Gildorio during her regular visits to the Ucion Guild of Aethyr for specialised training, assessment and for her Aethyric talents to be classified and formalised. Gildorio was less advanced than she, and struggled with consistency in more advanced forms of Aethyrshaping. Rhelliriendra offered to tutor him in private, at first to help him pass an examination. And it was there, by the soft green glow of her own Aethyric light-casting, that she fell in love with him.

Their relationship was strictly prohibited by the simple nature of their respective heredities; a relationship between the royal families of neighbouring nations, however obscure the individuals, needed approval at the highest levels. Both Rhelliriendra and Gildorio knew they would never receive the blessings they needed to openly continue their affair, and so it continued in private, and under a veil of secrecy. Their private Aethyr tutoring sessions became far less about Rhelliriendra teaching Gildorio the skills he needed to be declared an Aethyrshaper, and far more about feeling his sculpted, muscular body moving rhythmically over her, his soft grunts against her ear, the bloom of heat pulsing forth within her when he finished…

Rhelliriendra was well aware of her fertility rhythm, and forbade him from entering her at all during the peak of her monthly cycle. He visibly struggled with restraint during those weeks if they spent any time alone together, but her insistence held him off. And for over a year, their dangerous game remained a secret. Until Gildorio, aroused beyond reason by the scent of Rhelliriendra’s heat during a particularly elevated cycle in the summer of 1411, tempted her into allowing him to make love to her. She made him promise to pull out, not to spill inside, but he ignored her.

She was incandescent with rage. And, after three weeks of worry, her worst fears were confirmed when her next monthly cycle did not come to pass. Nor did it happen the following month.

She was pregnant.

There was no hope for her to discreetly terminate the pregnancy; such a thing in Viania was unheard of, and she knew the only chance she had was to leave before her pregnancy showed. Go somewhere far away, carry the baby to term, and surrender it to a Temple of Dytaea to be adopted and raised. The problem, of course, was that she was a member of the Vianian royal family. However obscure her position, she was likely to be recognised, or seen and reported by the multitude of spies who crawled in the shadows of the Vianian and Tironian halls of power like so many cockroaches. She would have to go farther afield, and with a reasonable excuse for being gone up to a year. The only person she could confide in was her Aethyr tutor. He suggested that she travel to Hochenwold, on the east Valasean coast, some 300 miles away. It was a reasonable suggestion; Hochenwold was an independent, mercantile city-state which owed no allegiance to any king, queen or religious leader; only to money, and those with the will to spend it. Money was something Rhelliriendra had no shortage of, and so she laid plans to travel to Hochenwold, under the guise of receiving a year’s advanced Aethyrshaping training.

Gildorio ruined that, too. Unlike Rhelliriendra’s, Gildorio’s family were Arahanites, a faith which, for reasons Rhelliriendra could never fathom, placed full responsibility for pregnancy on the woman. In the eyes of his own family, Gildorio had nothing to answer for, and so he saw no reason to keep her pregnancy a secret from the Tironian royal court. The Tironians were incensed. They saw Rhelliriendra’s pregnancy as a subversive attempt to undermine the increasingly fragile political landscape that existed across Lake Thalysion between Ucion and Durion, and began rattling their sabres and threatening war if the Vianians refused to excommunicate Rhelliriendra from the royal court; to exile her.

Rhelliriendra would not allow that to occur. She was, if nothing else, a proud and fiercely independent woman, and even at the young age of nineteen and carrying Gildorio’s baby, took it upon herself to reclaim responsibility and act, without being forced to do so at swordpoint.

So, Rhelliriendra Joanes Iñigo surrendered her claims, forfeited her estates, and volunteered to go into exile.

She became simply ‘Rhell.’

It was the noblest action she had available to her. And it rendered her a heroine at the Vianian court, for a moment. She had fallen foul of the Tironians’ bizarre notions of sexual responsibility, and had single-handedly averted the possibility of war between the two nations through selfless action—and had preserved her parents’ reputation.

Rhell’s Aethyric tutor and her parents helped her to smuggle a quantity of money out of Ucion, in the weeks that followed. Rhell took some pleasure in knowing that Gildorio had failed his Aethyr examinations and had been discharged from the Guild, but it was cold comfort. The journey ahead of her was fraught with peril; she was no longer protected by her royal lineage. She was a single, pregnant woman, travelling with only a single bodyguard, into an unknown future. Castorro had been the stablemaster for as long as Rhell could remember, and it was he who volunteered to travel with her. He was unmarried and childless, and had little to connect him to Ucion. But he was a good man, and handy with a blade if he needed to be.

Rhell spoke passable Rhocarni, a language that bore some passing similarity to archaic forms of Vianian by nature of its Scordic origins, so Rhocarn became her favoured destination. She managed to procure a number of books to take with her, among them a rare copy of the Arahanic holy book written in several languages, including Vianian and Rhocarni. It became an invaluable resource to her, for honing her understanding of the guttural-sounding tongue.

The journey took three weeks, most of it a gruelling overland route by horsecart across the endless plains and rolling, sparsely forested hills of western Viania, remaining well south of the Tironian border. Then, once they crossed into neighbouring Erialin, they turned north and headed for the coastal city of Eritidum. There, they boarded a ship which would carry them across the Sea of Rhocarn to Hafonydd.

During this journey, first by horsecart and then by ship, Rhell began to plan her future. The amount of money she had was enough to set up a new life, if she spent it wisely. It was not enough to live on for any length of time, by itself. So she needed a source of income, and fast.

But what work could a pregnant woman do, in a foreign land with few connections? She needed to get the attention of people with influence, and quickly. No one in Rhocarn knew of her exile, Castorro reminded her, so gaining that influence may be as simple as choosing to masquerade as who she wished to be perceived as. The grain of an idea began to form in Rhell’s mind. Who should she be, to be well protected, well connected, well respected and able to live without fear?

When their ship docked at Hafonydd after two days and two nights at sea, Rhell knew who she needed to become.

They did not linger in the fishing port of Hafonydd. Instead, Rhell and Castorro made a beeline for Fràwic, the largest city in Rhocarn. They travelled roads that were in a far better state of repair than the rural tracks across Viania, and a week later their tired horse trudged through the city gates. By then there was an icy chill in the air, and the evenings were short as the riotous blaze of autumn in the Aethyrfiodh - the great forest - succumbed to winter’s clawing embrace.

Rhell made contact with a Dytaean temple and confided her true situation to the High Priestess, a kindly and quick-witted Equid woman of perhaps fifty years. From her, Rhell gained the confidence that her baby could be delivered at the temple, and looked after in private—not adopted out—such that Rhell would never be far away from her child. It was the ideal outcome, although Rhell maintained some doubt that she would want anything to do with the child of Gildorio.

Castorro changed her mind, on that—the bastard child of an ascendent royal from an opposing nation was a powerful political lever, and Gildorio would spend his life with a grain of fear inside him that the child would eventually come to challenge him.

The baby was perhaps still four months from being born. And by now, her pregnancy was showing.

Given its landlocked position, the city of Fràwic did not have a strong representation of Lakesh, the Storm Goddess. But it was her patronage that Rhell most needed. The House of Lakesh was modest, but it would have to do. Lakesh was, as well as the Storm Goddess, a goddess of fate and destiny, and the patron deity of travellers, explorers, diplomats, politicians… and courtesans.

Rhell already fit into most of those patronages, but it was the latter on which she sought the most guidance.

The Lakessian Ordinary who greeted them at the door at first seemed hesitant to admit them inside. Rhell pled her case, and spoke of the journey she had been forced by fate to undertake—and of her extensive training in disciplines favourable to Lakesh. Eventually, the Ordinary invited them in, where Rhell was welcomed by the Augur of the Lakessian House, a sharp-eyed Lupa woman named Zakaria with a pronounced limp and teeth mostly of gold. She’d had a hard life, it appeared. But she appreciated Rhell’s story, and listened in rapture to the Caprin woman’s intentions, her smile becoming wider the longer the exiled markhor spoke. She immediately gave Rhell the blessing of the Storm Goddess, and offered her and Castorro temporary lodgings while they found their hooves and began to put down roots in Rhocarn. All she asked in return was that if the time came, Rhell would come to the service of Lakesh when called.

For the remainder of her pregnancy, Rhell bounced back and forth between the Temple of Dytaea and the House of Lakesh. She gave birth to a son in the spring of 1412, who she named Ysidoro, and nursed him through the summer. Thanks to the hospitality of the temples, her money was not dwindling as rapidly as she had feared it might, and after she had recovered from the birth of Ysidoro, she began to make herself known to the wealthy and influential people of Fràwic. But the Lakessians had not anticipated looking after Ysidoro for any longer than it took Rhell to recover from his birth, and the Augur began to express her discomfort with the arrangement.

That was when Rhell crossed paths with Magpie. The tiny, otherworldly dragon was drawn to Rhell’s Aethyrshaping skills like a moth to a flame, and it was his influence with the Lakessians that enabled Ysidoro to remain in their care for another three years while Rhell established herself.

And so it was, that Rhell swept into Rhocarni high society in the city of Fràwic in the mid autumn of 1412, wearing an elaborate and finely-crafted dress of embroidered green velvet decorated with gold and red oak leaf motifs around its hems, and accompanied by Castorro in a gleaming copper breastplate and greaves over a hauberk of bronze mail and a gaudy tabard of green and white. Zakaria had extensive contacts in the sex trade across the city, on all levels from the lowliest streetwalkers, to bawdyhouse owners and their employed staff, to surrogates who carried children for biologically incompatible couples, and of course to the often powerful and wealthy independent courtesans. It was into this latter class that Rhell hoped to insert herself, although as a competitive and territorial occupation, it would not do her any favours to barge in without doing her due diligence. So she marketed herself not as a simple sex worker, but also as a trusted companion, a confidant, and even an advisor. It took time, but eventually she gained a small clientele who paid in gold—the type of clientele who valued not only her body and her willingness to entertain their less conventional desires, but also her courtly manner, her political acumen, and above all her ironclad discretion.

Pursuing a career as a courtesan may seem not to have been an obvious choice for Rhell. Indeed, that was part of the reason she did so. But in the context of Rhocarn at the time, there were few better options available to a single and unconnected woman. And life as an independent courtesan offered security, independence and self-determination. She could hardly turn around after a life as a sheltered minor royal and become a carpenter, or a mason, and while there was a market for Aethyrshaping across Rhocarn, it was a tight and insular profession that did not welcome outsiders. Nor did Rhell have the connections to consider a mercantile career, or the stomach for long sea journeys. Courtesans in Rhocarn were, overall, highly respected. An essential service, and one blessed by a cross-section of gods.

And the sex was often exciting, as well. Rhell did not have as much experience as she liked to tell people she had, at least to begin with. But she quickly found that some men liked the notion that she was relatively inexperienced, and for several of her early clients, she would deliberately play the part of a naïve young noblewoman who’d never seen a prick before. They loved that.

Rhell was not disappointed with how her life had played out. By the time she was in her late twenties, and had been in Rhocarn for almost a decade, she was a highly respected and deeply connected independent courtesan with some of Rhocarn’s most influential people among her clientele.

Her fees allowed her a measure of luxury afforded to relatively few, and she was very careful never to allow herself to become indentured to any individual, however lavish the gifts they offered. She knew only too well that her sexual appeal would fade as she aged, so retaining the independence of her wealth was paramount. With Castorro as the head of her household, she’d purchased a crumbling estate house on the outskirts of a coastal town called Stillwater Cove, and over the following years had hired craftspeople to renovate it. Rhell was, at the age of twenty-eight, worldly and sly, with far more knowledge of the politics and intrigue of the region than she would ever let on. She’d seen it all, it felt like. But every so often something would come along that challenged her worldview.

Kristian the elk and his twin brother Dieter had been just such a thing, when they’d first crossed paths in 1416. And while Rhell had seen and encountered her fair share of women in the grips of a smouldering, aching heat, Cengifu the elk doe was another.

Her choice to chaperone the doe’s out-of-control heat had been an instantaneous decision; both to protect her from herself, and to ensure she gathered some coin to account for the week or so she’d probably be in recovery after such an intense evening.

Heat cycles burned hot, and crashed hard. Rhell knew that from experience.

Eight silver pence a head to breed her was a high cost, Rhell knew; one could find a willing sex worker in Stillwater Cove to match almost any budget, but an indentured bawdyhouse girl’s services could be had for as little as half a penny—a ha’penny handy—a penny for oral, two pence for penetration, with an extra penny if the client ejaculated inside. Starting Cengifu off at more than double the average bawdyhouse fee cast her as a rarer, and higher class of partner, more akin to the cost of someone seeking entry to the independent courtesan class.

That meant that only those men who genuinely wanted her would pay, or so Rhell reasoned. It would limit the numbers, and earn her some coin. Even with the price set so high, Cengifu had earned almost a pound of silver before her breeding had even properly commenced, which was equal to five-score pennies. It was an impressive sum that most indentured courtesans at the Fig would be jealous of, so Rhell ensured that the elk doe’s coins were well protected.

Such sexual promiscuity as a result of a heat episode was quite normal across most of Doregal. Where a child resulted from a night of hedonistic fucking and the father was not known, the temples of Mido and Kasdall would often contribute to the child’s raising, and would support the mother with payments raised from their own devotees. The temples of Amel and Dytaea also played a role, and it was commonly accepted across most of Doregal and Valasea that paternity was not particularly important for most people. After all, for mixed-taxa couples, those same temples offered surrogacy and adoption services where a monogamous pairing were unable to conceive naturally. The same was true of same-sex couples, or of anyone unable to naturally conceive.

The infrastructure was well-established, even in spite of the theocratic Arahanites’ attempts to topple and dismantle the ancient ways in favour of rigid monogamy, abstinence and marriage.

*

Stillwater Cove, Rhocarn

Winter, 1420 AD

Rhell

Rhell looked around the crowd which had gathered to spectate Cengifu’s breeding. In the confined space of the tunnel between the Hairy Fig’s taproom and the bathhouse, Cengifu’s pheromones had built up in the close, humid air, rising from her like cloying incense smoke. To Rhell’s Caprin senses, she smelt like musky sweat and mushrooms with an undertone of acrid grassiness, but she knew that to the Cervid men who had gathered both to partake and to witness, she would smell like the very embodiment of the urge to fuck. They were all very clearly affected, and the very public displays of arousal Rhell saw all around her thrilled her. Rhell herself had no particular preference for the gender or biology of her partners, but—perhaps unsurprisingly—the vast majority of her clientele were emphatically male.

So the display of Cengifu’s burning lust was incredibly arousing, to Rhell. She had felt her own fluid trickle down her inner thigh at the display, as first a northern caribou, then two Equids, then Bruno and his son Kristian pumped their virile seed into, and over, the doe. Several of the gathered men in the impromptu audience were Caprin, and could easily detect Rhell’s pheromones over the dense miasma of Cengifu’s, even though she was a week or more away from the peak of her hormonal cycle, and by no means in anything like the state of heat Cengifu found herself in. Even the heat she’d experienced when Ysidoro was conceived was nothing like as strong as Cengifu’s. And unlike that occasion, Cengifu desperately wanted, needed, craved what she was seeking.

One of the Caprin men in the gathered crowd caught Rhell’s eye and smirked knowingly at her. She did not recognise him, but he was richly dressed. She flicked her gaze sultrily up and down his body. He returned the seductive gaze in kind, hungrily taking her body in, with clear intent.

“It’ll be a half pound of silver for a round with me,” she said, fully intending to scare him off. Accepting random strangers, particularly of her own taxa, was certainly outside of Rhell’s usual practices. All prospective clients were thoroughly vetted in advance before they had a chance to proposition her.

It was an exorbitant sum; equal to sixty pennies, over seven times the amount she was collecting for Cengifu. To her surprise, he produced a coinpurse bulging not with silver, but with gold, and grinned.

“Right here, right now,” he said.

“Public sex doubles the fee,” Rhell counter-proposed.

“You’re worth every farthing. You’re a queen among paupers in this place.”

Rhell considered. She couldn’t deny that he was handsome. And he was not a markhor, but a Valasean ibex, most probably from Andialdaias or Messa. He would not be able to impregnate her. Somewhere very nearby, a cheer arose as someone ejaculated on Cengifu’s tits. Rhell felt herself throb beneath the ephemeral gauze and silk that adorned her body.

“You’re a charmer!” Rhell exclaimed to the Caprin man, then smirked. “Very well. Want me to tie you up and piss on your dick as well?”

“Oh, by Ysion… would you?” He exclaimed, with genuine excitement in his voice.

“Adding_ _bondage triples the fee, plus another eight pence for the piss, and I shan’t do either of those in public…”

“Take it all!” he said, tossing his coinpurse at her.

She caught it, and realised that their exchange had drawn a little crowd of onlookers of their own, most of them grinning lecherously and awaiting her answer. Lukyan, the slender Arahanic Lupa courtesan, silently appeared at her side.

Rhell made a show of counting out six Rhocarni Crowns, the coins minted by the Royal Moneyer and each of them worth a quarter of a pound of silver, and passed them to Lukyan. The wolf was, she noted, still erect in his clothing, and judging from the wetness around his tented groin had been enjoying himself. She playfully squeezed his engorged knot through his thin, soft pants, making him gasp and the wetness at his tip to grow.

“Lukyan, be a dear and look after these coins, and my clothes, would you? Keep them separate from Cengifu’s take.”

“Gladly,” he lilted. “Squeeze it once more, for me?”

She obliged, but this time she took him out of his pants, exposing his canid penis to half a dozen onlookers, and gripped his knot like a doorknob she was attempting to open. Lukyan hunched and trembled, and Rhell calmly collected the resulting palmful of his drooling precum, then performatively licked it clean while maintaining eye contact with her new Caprin client.

“You certainly know how to put on a show, don’t you?” he chuckled.

“I am nothing if not a consummate professional,” Rhell returned silkily, “and pleasure is my trade.”

Lukyan took her payment and added it to Cengifu’s take. It would be easy to tell them apart, since Rhell had been paid in gold, and Cengifu mostly in silver. Then he melted back into the crowd, back towards where Cengifu’s breeding was drawing to a messy conclusion.

Rhell sidled up to the Caprin man, who stood several dewclaws shorter than she, and draped her body around his flirtatiously. Dressed for seduction as she was, most of Rhell was already tantalisingly displayed, and the Caprin’s hand rose to her chest, softly palming the pillowy swell of her breast and causing her nipples to stiffen, creating distinct peaks in the gauze that covered them. She brought her muzzle close to his ear and breathed in deeply, taking in his scent, and pushed her hand into his crotch in retaliation. He was already partially erect, and her touch caused him to stiffen rapidly.

“Goodness, I’ve got lucky tonight, it seems,” she whispered to him. “You’re so thick… I should suggest, though, that you are quite overdressed for what happens next. What should I call you, so I know what to moan when you make me come with this very impressive feeling rod?”

He shivered and grunted into her ear and she felt his hands descend to her buttocks, kneading her broad, soft cheeks firmly.

“Luys Esqivel Namur, of Akrelea, is my name,” he said huskily, against her ear.

“Of Akrelea? A Bastian?”

“Bastian by birth, but of course, you know that an ibex like me has his roots to the east, in the Andial mountains. You know this, because people move around. As have you, Rhell. You’re far from your roots here.”

Rhell ground her buttocks firmly into Luys’ strong hands, raking one of her hands up the back of the ibex’s neck while she continued to grope and fondle him over his trousers. Wetness bloomed through the heavy cloth, and she plucked at the bulbous shape of his glans with her fingertips, feeling the unmistakable mobility of skin unique to a man who had not been subjected to the Arahanic tradition of having his foreskin cut.

“Mm, you’re wet, too…” she murmured, squeezing gently.

Luys flexed his rigid cock inside his trousers and chuckled against her ear. “Why don’t you get it out and find out just how thick and wet, little queen? Explore me to your heart’s content, I can tell you’re so very curious to touch it…”

Rhell smirked; he knew what he wanted, and wasn’t afraid to roleplay with her. She put on her very best excited, horny young girl demeanour, and ground heavily onto his thigh one more time before sinking seductively to her knees before him. A cheer erupted from the small crowd of onlookers they had gathered, and over her left shoulder, another man unceremoniously yanked his cock out of his leggings and began to noisily tug himself to playful consternation from his companions. His cock smelt strongly, and Rhell turned her head to regard it briefly. But her attention was for Luys – it was he who had paid so handsomely, after all. And he simply stood, gazing down at her with a look of almost fatherly adoration while she worked the expensive clasps that held his trousers shut, releasing them one by one, until the garment hung from his hips. And then she reached inside them, and touched his erect cock. She gazed up at him while she pulled his flesh out from its cloth prison to bob rigidly over her muzzle, in a messy web of precum. His foreskin was long and thick, and Luys spared a hand to very deliberately expose his gooey, purple glans to her in a manner that in many parts of Asantrea was considered an overtly vulgar gesture. And he knew it. She inhaled his rich musk deeply; he was clean, but carried a scent about him that was uniquely Caprin. And, as she watched, he flexed his rod once more and caused a thick drop of precum to bloom at his tip and string ponderously downward.

“You should catch that before it messes up your pretty face,” Luys advised.

She gazed up at him past his cock, and curled her fingers delicately around it to angle it at her lips. Then she teasingly captured the dangling string of precum on her tongue, carried it back up to his cock, and took his domed glans between her lips. She suckled and nursed on him delicately, maintaining eye contact, and swirled her tongue around his sensitive head, focusing on its underside. The warm, salty tang of his plentiful precum filled her muzzle, and she felt her heart flutter with excitement. He tasted good. She squeezed his rod and milked her thumb forward along the soft strip along its underside, and was rewarded by another heavy, thick drool of the salty nectar, which she savoured on her tongue, before removing her mouth and showing Luys the thick, gooey webs of himself that adorned her tongue and lips. Then she swallowed heavily and licked her lips.

“Oh, precious child, the illusion of your innocence is gossamer thin, with how readily you undress me, and how knowingly you taste of my desire!” Luys exclaimed, loud enough for others to hear.

Quite a performer, Rhell thought. Alright then.

“Whatever do you mean, kind Luys? I am merely a girl, corrupted and driven to sinfulness by the lusts of men!”

She mouthed at his cock again, and then gently pushed her muzzle down over his thick, veiny rod, until his tip touched the back of her throat.

“Oh by Ysion’s beard…” Luys grunted, visibly restraining himself from gripping her elegantly curved horns and ramming his cock into her throat.

Rhell arched her tongue along his underside and pulled off of him with a loud, wet pop, pulling his foreskin back up over his glans with her lips. Then she rose smoothly to her hooves, placed the ibex’s hands on her wide hips, and began to unbutton his jerkin. He hurried her along by assisting her, and quickly divested himself of his coat, jerkin, tunic and undershirt, and kicked his trousers aside to stand naked before her. He was a handsome man in his entirety, too; strong and heavyset, with a pelt the colour of burnt caramel shot through with black and silver. A thick, coarse mat of wiry dark hair broke through his pelt on his chest, and continued in a sparser trail down his abdomen, until it thickened once more beneath his navel into a nest of curls that framed his manhood. His balls hung heavy and low beneath, free from the coarse dark hair that festooned his body elsewhere, their elongated, lemon-shaped heft contained within a sack of ivory velvet. It was to these that Rhell paid attention next, sliding her hand easily beneath them and weighing them in her palm.

“I’ll wager these nuts are so full of virile seed you could get every Caprin girl in this place pregnant by the end of tonight, if you so desired,” she cooed, playing on the deepest, basest instinct that was rooted in the primal backwaters of every man’s brain. “But tonight, all of your seed belongs to me. It’s all mine, and how lucky I am…”

Luys shuddered and groped her arse through the thin gauze that covered it, and then brought one of his hands to her front. He gazed at her questioningly, teasing a fingertip behind the silk flap that ephemerally concealed her womanhood, and she giggled demurely.

“Do you want to touch it? Go on, feel it…” she murmured, pushing her hips forward onto his hand.

He made a soft gurgling noise in his throat and Rhell felt the hand on her buttocks grope her again, sensually and slowly, while those fingers of his wandered beyond the veil of her decency to find the prize that lay within, and she continued her performative exploration of his thick, heavy foreskinned penis.

“Oh, Ysion be praised… you wear nothing over your sacred chalice, nothing but this most tantalising veil of silk! Any man may simply reach behind it and feel for himself the warmth, the softness of your womanly pride, in all its—nnnh—all its glory… Mido smiles upon me this night, you are so wet already!” Luys intoned, his fingers exploring the velvety softness of her labia majora before delicately invading the slick wetness between them.

“You have paid a handsome sum to a simple girl tonight, sweet Luys. Your gentleness speaks of a man who cherishes those who share intimacy with you, and that should be an example to all men who stand here to witness! But you also paid to fuck me, did you not? To breed me? To bounce these virile nuts off my soft arse and bury this… monument of a rod inside my shrine of Mido? To feel me writhe in ecstasy around you while you pound your jelly into my desperate, wet cunt?”

Rhell withdrew from Luys as she spoke, turning around in a slow, seductive circle of a few paces, and coming to a stop an arms’ length from the naked, aroused merchant. There, she snapped her fingers, and a young Equid girl with not a single thread of clothing on her slender body trotted forward and, with Rhell’s arms raised up high over her head, unfastened but a single clasp near the Caprin courtesan’s waist. At once, every scrap of clothing Rhell wore fell away from her body, flowing like syrup over her mahogany, ivory and ebony pelt, and leaving the markhor woman standing in all her glory before Luys and the enraptured audience.

Luys clapped his hands, and a smattering of applause echoed around the steamy space. Then, Rhell once again motioned to the young Equid girl.

“Eloise, be a dear and fetch that giant, strapping stallion for us, would you? Yes, the one you were just fluttering your eyelashes at. Get him, if you would, to please position yonder table right here, over which kind Luys may bend me to unload his aching balls…”

The flighty mare whickered cutely and danced over to the giant Scordomnan Featherhoof, the very same stallion who’d brought the sturdy table in here in the first place for Cengifu the elk to be bred over. It was slimy and wet with the results of that first breeding orgy, and Eloise procured a pair of someone’s undergarments from the crowd to mop it clean before Rhell’s use of the furniture.

Rhell hugged Eloise sensually, and for Luys’ benefit, tilted the little mare’s muzzle upward and kissed her passionately by way of thanks.

“Do you taste Luys’ cock on my breath?” she said, loud enough for the crowd to hear.

“Aye mistress!” Eloise giggled.

“Good. Soon you shall taste it on every part of my body…”

She turned back to face Luys, and beckoned him forward. The crowd cheered, and led by his hefty, upward-curved erection, Luys stepped in to meet Rhell.

“How do you want me?” she asked him quietly.

“Ride me, little queen. I want you on top of me. I want to be covered in your glory…” he said, in a voice that shook with arousal.

“Then it shall be so…” Rhell smirked.

She kissed him deeply, pushing her body against his and raking her fingers up the back of his thick neck into his curly hair, and then pressed him to sit on the sturdy table. That brought his eyes level with her tits, and she took her time pressing them into his face, before pushing him backward with a hand on his chest until he lay on his back on the table, his cock laying heavily up his belly. She reached for it, and raised it up to stand like a spire, the end of his thick foreskin overflowing with precum that strung in messy strands into his fur.

“My, you are almost as wet as I…” she giggled. “This is going to feel so nice entering me…”

Then she straddled him. She took her time, teasing the ibex by swiping the end of his wet foreskin up and down along the lips of her sex, experimenting and exploring like a virgin’s first time, and gazing down at the sight of the substantial wetness shared between them already. Luys was entranced; his breathing was fast and shallow, and his hands caressed Rhell’s thighs almost reverently.

“When I put you inside, my cunt will push back your foreskin, and I want you to try your hardest not to spill your seed right away!” Rhell teased him.

Luys gave a heated groan and Rhell felt his cock flex and stiffen in her hand. She playfully squeezed it and swayed her hips to pluck the tip of his overhanging hood with her lips, and made sure the gathered audience around them could see everything they wanted to see. This was a public performance, after all, and Rhell was nothing if not an actress. Luys, for his part, seemed singularly unbothered by the fact that most of their audience was male; indeed, he even turned his head away from Rhell for a moment when a young Equid appeared over his shoulder, bodily groping himself through his leggings as he bent forward to stare at the point of contact between the two Caprins. He whickered appreciatively, and Rhell saw his equine cock flare down his right leg, a large wet stain appearing just beneath the blunt mushroom. Luys was gazing at the Equid’s crotch openly, and for a moment Rhell thought he might reach over and touch him.

“Are you ready?” Rhell asked Luys, loud enough that a dozen or more others around them could hear, and know she was about to take him inside her.

He groaned in lust and his attention snapped back to her. “Yes, my queen, like a man who has been trapped in a desert for a week without water, I thirst for you with a base desperation!”

“You are wetter than any desert I’ve ever seen,” Rhell quipped, flashing him a cocky smirk.

“As are you!” he returned.

“Then let us flood this desert, shall we?”

Rhell braced one of her hands on his broad chest, gripping a fistful of his dense fur, and held the base of his thick, heavily veined cock with the other. She lifted herself up into a squat, lodged his tip at her entrance, wriggled her hips into position, and allowed her weight to settle backwards. She couldn’t stifle a moan, genuine and loud, as his heavy, gooey cock plunged upward into the cloying wetness of her cunt. Her vagina pushed back his foreskin just as she’d promised, and the look on Luys’ face at his sensitive glans being enveloped in her slickness told her all she needed to know. He quivered and trembled with arousal, and Rhell took him in one skilled, smooth stroke, all the way to the thick, curly nest of hair around the root of his cock. His breath hitched in his throat and his body stiffened with a tension that released moments later as a deep, shaky moan.

“Oh, little queen, your body is the essence of perfection! Feel my hardness at the gates of your womb, feel my lust mingle with your own!”

Rhell rose upward along his rod, giving several spectators on their knees behind her a close view of Luys’ cock newly glistening with their combined wetness, and then sunk onto him once more, to grind her hips in a firm, circular motion onto his hips, stirring herself with his stiffness. She hunched over him at the sensation and exhaled hotly over his face through a veil of her own hair. Then she felt his hands on her buttocks, spreading her, kneading her cheeks, and his strength guiding her up and down on his cock. He was using her to pleasure himself, and the thought was intensely arousing for Rhell.

“Use me for your pleasure, Rhell. Ride my rod. I may have paid for you tonight, but tonight, I am yours, also.”

Rhell made a small bleating noise in the back of her throat.

Oh, he was good.

Momentarily, she considered refunding him and offering herself freely to him for the remainder of the evening, once they were alone. It was the thought of Lukyan’s scowl that changed her mind – six gold Crowns was a life-changing sum for someone like him, she remembered.

Rhell dragged her fingers down Luys’ chest, over his firm pectorals and belly, and then back up, until her fingers parted around his nipples, each of which was pierced through with a small gold barbell. She brushed her fingers over them both simultaneously, and to her surprise, Luys gasped loudly and hammered his cock upward into her in a flurry of urgent, feral thrusts. It stole her breath, and she collapsed over him, trembling.

“Oh… those are sensitive, little queen, I am sorry!” he rasped.

“Fuck… fuck. Do that again,” she demanded, her mouth inches from his own.

She found his nipples again and repeated her soft, teasing touch, and this time held her hips upward with her legs braced. Luys gave another shuddering groan and gripped her buttocks roughly, hunching beneath her and driving his rod powerfully into her core with reckless force, each thrust accompanied by a throaty grunt and a loud, lewd ‘plap’ of his thighs against the underside of her buttocks.

“Oh yes. YES. YES,” Rhell bleated. “Fuck me, Luys! Oh gods that feels so good…”

She found that Luys would continue to fuck at the same feral pace and depth as long as she caressed and teased his sensitive nipples—it was clearly intentional, and now she knew how to tease him. She continued to brush her fingertips delicately around his nipples for a long while, until she heard his breath becoming hoarse and laboured, and felt his thighs trembling beneath her. He was trying to hold back. Rhell kept teasing him until he was obviously struggling not to climax, and then stopped entirely and raised herself up over him. Luys gave a frustrated groan and relaxed backward over the table.

“You stopped on purpose, little queen…” he said.

“Aye, that I did,” she said. “You paid far too much to be done so soon…”

Over Luys’ shoulder, that young Equid had reached the limit of his restraint. He dropped his leggings to mid-thigh, releasing his cock right beside them. He flexed it, sending it sailing up to jut rigidly out, a few inches from his belly, and then let it fall to sway in front of him, swollen and so erect the dark greyish-purple organ shone with tautness. Then again, and again, his flare growing more pronounced and persistent each time, a vulgar exhibitionism of his desire.

She glanced up at him.

“If you ejaculate on me, colt, you’ll have to pay, just like Luys here, and just like all those men who spilled their seed on Cengifu the elk, as well.”

“Let him, queen,” Luys intoned. “I shall cover the expense. I wish to see this young man’s seed on your beautiful tits.”

She stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, and then laughed, shakily on account of him suddenly giving a heavy, grinding thrust into her. “You really are unlike any other of my clients,” she said. “Very well. Bring that here, colt.”

The Equid whinnied in excitement and took another step forward until his cock hung over Luys’ chest, between his and Rhell’s faces. Its warm, grassy scent mingled with Luys’ much richer, deeper musk, and Rhell tentatively nuzzled it. He was young, excitable and clearly inexperienced, and merely the suggestion of her mouth near his penis caused him to flex it, sending it upward along her cheek to spew precum into her hair and over her ear, while its owner danced excitedly on his hooves. Luys laughed.

“You have such a powerful effect on the men around you, Rhell,” he said. “Including on me…”

Rhell moaned hotly as he moved inside her to punctuate his words, and felt someone else’s breath between her buttocks. She turned her head, and saw a young Cervid woman, a dainty fallow doe, bent over behind her, being fucked from behind by a much older stag. He was hunched over her back, and both of their faces were inches from her gyrating backside. It was truly turning into an orgy all of Rhell’s own. The stag wasn’t interested in making his moment of pleasure last, and finished within moments with his eyes fixed to the point of union between Rhell and Luys. The young doe bleated in protest as he withdrew, stood and wandered away. She looked very frustrated, and Rhell offered her a conciliatory look.

“Bastard,” Rhell offered. “Didn’t even offer to finish you off?”

She pouted and shook her head. Rhell gyrated her hips onto Luys, and felt his hands redouble their grip on her buttocks, kneading them apart and teasing his fingertips between them. The doe’s eyes fell to the action, and Rhell gyrated her hips, for her benefit as well as Luys’. Then suddenly she felt another pair of hands, this time on her breasts - the young stallion’s! She snapped her head forward and downward to Luys. He was in his own personal version of paradise, it seemed; his eyes were half-lidded and fixed on her, and he seemed perfectly content to be in the centre of it all. He occasionally gave a series of slow, measured, deep thrusts inside her, and Rhell could feel every pulse, every throb, every flex and flare and twitch of his cock.

“Nnhhh oh fuck…” Rhell moaned, splaying her fingers across Luys’ chest once again, while the young stallion fondled her breasts with aimless, but enthusiastic curiosity, and the doe’s breath continued to come in shaky puffs between her buttocks, chilling the gooey mess of fluid that oozed from her around Luys.

Then the young fallow doe appeared in her field of vision, perching on the edge of the sturdy table alongside Luys. She seemed incredibly nervous but her arousal was making her brave, and Rhell leaned towards her and nuzzled her cheek heatedly, breathless with her own arousal while she rode Luys. The Equid’s cock bobbed and twitched and flexed lewdly in their shared field of vision, and finally, Rhell had an idea.

To the fallow doe, she said, loud enough for everyone around to hear: “Oh, but I seem to have run out of hands with which to pleasure this virile young stallion, occupied as mine are with my handsome and well-paying client! Yet he, in his indulgence, wishes to watch this stallion spill his foals onto my tits…”

“And what an indulgence that shall be!” Luys groaned from beneath her, sparing a hand from her buttock briefly to grope and squeeze the Equid’s straining cock.

He gave a coltish whinny and bucked his hips, sending a splatter of precum onto Rhell’s chest.

“C-can’t he… pleasure himself on you?” The doe asked innocently.

Rhell groaned, gyrating her hips over Luys and circling a fingertip dangerously close to one of his nipples. He sucked in a sharp breath and she felt him flex and shove his hips upward into her.

“Nnnh… no, no that would never do… why should he simply stroke himself off, when you, my dear, are right here, and seemingly so eager to be part of our little show?” Rhell said.

The doe’s eyes widened. “You want me to… touch him?”

“I want you to do more than touch him, sweet girl. I want you to pleasure him. Use your hands, use your mouth, use your body however you see fit, to give Luys the show he so deserves… and make sure that when he spills, he coats these soft, warm pillows of mine with his lust…”

The doe made a little strangled bleat in the back of her throat and Rhell saw her press a hand between her thighs.

“That’s good… indulge yourself, darling… touch your needy cunt over us. Look, Luys, she is so aroused she cannot resist rubbing herself for you…”

Luys grunted heatedly, ground up into Rhell, and held himself there for a long moment of tension, until she felt his cock pulse just once inside her.

“That felt like you nearly spilled yourself…” she teased him, holding one finger over his left nipple.

“I have more self control than you give me credit for, little queen,” Luys grinned. “But if you had touched my nipples right then, I may have lost what little remains of it. You two—colt and doe—what are your names?”

Tentatively, the fallow doe rose to her slender hooves, and moved around to stand beside the stallion. He whickered in greeting, although at no time did he remove his hands from Rhell’s breasts.

“Uxrena,” said the doe, “and this is Cawain.”

Rhell’s eyes widened. “You two know one another?”

“Aye,” Cawain said sheepishly. “We’s neighbours.”

“Oh this is beautiful! And here she is, staring with such hunger at your cock in a way I am certain you’ve fantasised about…”

Cawain turned to Uxrena, who giggled softly and pressed into his body.

“Aye, I’s thought of her that way,”

“And I of you, Cawain!”

“Look at us, Luys, not only putting on a show, but being matchmakers as well! Come then, you two… show us, show us all how you’ve thought of touching one another… Cawain, fear not, if you release my tits they shall not get up and run away.”

Nervously and tentatively, Uxrena lowered her hand to caress along Cawain’s cock. He had wilted momentarily during their conversation, but at her touch, he immediately swelled and stiffened right back up, to the same vulgar urgency he’d had all along. Uxrena’s touch was inexperienced and fumbling, and in return, he slid his hand down her back to grip one of her buttocks, eliciting a soft, aroused bleat from her.

“Cup your palm over the end of his rod, Uxrena,” Rhell advised her. “Stallions love it when you do that. Squeeze and scrunch it in your hand, watch what happens…”

Uxrena did so. The effect was instant. Cawain squealed and tensed up, and his glans flared broadly and wetly almost immediately in Uxrena’s soft hand, sprinkling precum copiously through her fingers and onto both Luys and Rhell. The stallion thrust and bucked his hips instinctively, and Rhell watched his quickly his balls ascended and tightened.

“He’s very close already, Uxrena… Nnnh, there’s a good girl, keep it up… let it all out for me Cawain, cover these tits in your jelly…I want to feel it through my fur…” Rhell teased.

As she spoke, she rose and fell with increasing rhythm and force on Luys’ cock, and felt the Caprin tense up and his hands knead her buttocks. He was breathing heavily and hoarsely, and she felt him tremble and quiver beneath her, and then go very very still and hold her steady with his strong hands.

“One moment…” he grunted.

Rhell smirked. She was in half a mind to pluck one of his nipples and make him ejaculate, but she resisted the temptation… just. Instead, she caressed up over his cheek, and gently clenched her vagina around his cock. Gods, we’re both so wet I can hardly feel him move any more…

Cawain hammered his hips wildly through Uxrena’s hand, and she lost her grip on him more than once, sending his tautly flared glans thrusting lewdly into Rhell’s face over and over, broad and wet.

“Mmmh… look how close he is, Luys… gods, his cock is so loud as well,” Rhell said, over the lewd pops and squelches that arose from Uxrena crumping her neighbour.

“Ysion’s beard, he can hardly hold it in… go on boy, show me what you have!” Luys encouraged.

The Caprin spared a hand from Rhell’s arse to reach up and curl his fingers around Cawain’s penis, squeezing his medial ring tightly and tugging backward on it. The stallion squealed and danced on his hooves, and thrust his hips forward once, twice more, and began to ejaculate. Uxrena bleated in arousal and rubbed herself urgently with her free hand under her dress, while her neighbour and friend’s semen exploded against the palm of her hand and sprayed messily out between her fingers. Rhell lifted herself up and thrust her chest out, cupping and lifting her own tits to capture the messy eruption of equine seed, and could not resist the need she felt to stimulate herself as well. She rose up and sank down heavily onto Luys’ cock, and felt him throb and pulse inside her. He breathed hard and deep, gasped, warned her to pause, but this time she ignored him.

Even before Cawain was done, Rhell urgently reached down to grip a fistful of Luys’ thick chest fur, seeking out one of his nipples, while rubbing her gooey, wet clit with the other hand. Her fingertips found the Caprin’s sensitive nub almost at the same moment he passed his point of no return inside her, and in the moments that followed, he lost all sense of civility and instead became a feral, frothing beast. He gave an urgent, desperate bleat, grabbed Rhell by her slender waist and rammed her down hard onto his pulsing, edging cock. He hammered his hips upward erratically and finally climaxed with a long, gurgling howl of immense pleasure and unbridled carnality. Rhell felt every pulse of his orgasm, and with every heavy flex and throb of his cock inside her, Luys’ entire body convulsed powerfully beneath her. His orgasm lasted for almost a full minute, descending slowly from the pinnacle of lust into rhythmic aftershocks that shook both of their bodies.

Rhell climaxed moments later, just as Luys’ orgasm was passing. She rubbed herself urgently, frantically, over his ejaculating penis until she felt the familiar tightness and bloom of heat deep within herself transition into the burning, rhythmic throbs of orgasm. She gyrated over him, riding out the waves of pleasure on his aftershocks, and in the fog of afterglow that followed, every other person in the humid, crowded space faded into the background; as far as Rhell was concerned, they did not exist.

She laid her body down over Luys and kissed him full on the mouth, raking her fingers up the sides of his head to grip the bases of his horns while she did. He kissed her back, and chuckled.

“What is humorous?” Rhell finally managed.

“Several things, little queen. The sheer number of people around us who are now also doing what we just did, for one. And… that I am now just as covered in Cawain’s lust as you are!”

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