In which Our Hero is Stymied by the Scientific Establishment

July 10th, 1885
Stillwater, The United Kingdom

I came into the Temple of Geshtianna with Virginia to my left side and ‘Magnus’ to my right, Sally and Gillian taking up the rear. I dragged behind me the statue of the cult’s goddess, covered with a tarp to prevent anyone from noticing both the bared breasts (not exactly appropriate for dragging through a village’s streets) and the magickal effect that caused all to view the statue to become entranced by it. I had to admit the tarp was useful for myself as well. The unsettling compulsion to make love to a statue was one I could handily do without.

Waiting for us within the temple was Bridgette. The blond priestess looked curiously at my entourage for a few moments before her lips opened into a circular O of surprise. “I did not know you were so blessed by our goddess already!” she said, clapping her hands together. The reactions of my comrades would have done little to dissuade the more savvy observer: Virginia began to blush and equivocate, Gillian spluttered, ‘Magnus’ grumbled under her breath and tugged at her false beard, and Sally gave a great big thumbs up and a wink.

However, Bridgette looked upon these overt signals and bit her lower lip, her brow furrowing. “Or am I mistaken?” she asked.

“Quite!” Virginia said. “Here’s your statue!”

She yanked off the tarp with a flourish and Bridgette’s eyes glowed with happiness as her hands clapped together. Almost immediately, four shirtless men from the shadows emerged. They were bluff and blond haired, with the ruddy look to face and shoulders that came of being a farmer, though they were clean shaven and smelled reasonably fresh as they bustled past our group and took hold of the statue. As they lifted it into the air, the golden light of the candles reflected off the golden bust of Geshtianna and I felt my own head growing faintly heavy. My eyes grew lidded and I felt my finger slide along the inside of my collar, tugging upon it. My shirt felt rather hot and stifling all of a sudden, even as distantly I heard Bridgette saying: “Now, place it upon the alter, if you would be so kind.”

The four men set to their work – but my eyes were only upon Bridgette. She really was quite astoundingly shapely. Hourglass perfection, with breasts so full and bountiful that a single hand could be lost in her softness. She walked past Virginia, who herself was turning red and adjusting her posture to show her own, more athletic figure to better effect. Seeing both women side by side, I felt my lusts only increase another notch. The whole world felt faintly shrouded in a pinkish haze, and I could see darker forms emerging from the shadows as Bridgette placed her palms upon my chest.

“Now, to perform your blessing...” her voice was husky. “For you and ... your companions.”

A faint clunk sounded and my paranoia surged. Remembering many an assassin attacking from shadows and ambush, and even from places of lust, I swung around and saw that the doors had been locked and barred. Two women, each as lovely as Bridgette, stood there without a scrap of clothing upon their bodies. Their breasts were smaller than the high priestess, but they made up for the lack with their own unique sensuousness. One was as dusky skinned as a Thanatosian, while the other was milk pale and red headed. Other shadowy forms emerged from the corners and I saw men as well as women stepping forward. The most that any wore was a garland of flowers, and even that was cast aside in wanton eagerness.

There were a total of about fourteen other people, a mixture of men and women. All save for three were human, and those three were half elven. As they moved forward, hands caressed along my back and my chest as Bridgette murmured against my lips, her breath hot against my face. “Come now. Join the celebration, Mr. Cog...” Her fingernails rasped gently along the buttons of my jacket and I groaned, quietly.

“I ... suppose, since you have asked so ... politely...” I said, quietly, as Virginia pressed to my side. Her breasts were firm and her nipples achingly hard through the cotton shirt she wore as her breath purred in my ear.

“Sir, I...” She nibbled on the tip of my ear, and if there was ever to be an end to that sentence, I did not hear it as her hands joined Bridgette’s in stripping my shirt off my green shoulders. Bridgette crooned quietly, and I felt other hands sliding along my back. I looked back and saw that the dusky skinned woman was caressing me with clear wonder in her eyes. But more, I saw that ‘Magnus’ had abandoned her beard and reverted to Maggie, her eyes shining with delight as a pair of strapping farmboys caressed her head curiously. I heard one saying: “Wow ... I done never fucked a halfling girl before...”

Maggie looked like she wanted to complain. Instead, she let the two boys begin to disrobe her. Sally, meanwhile, had born the pale skinned redhead to the ground and was kissing her in a clear display of sapphism that went entirely unremarked. And if I had not already known why the cult would wish the doors to be closed and the windows to be curtained, that showed the example. Then all of my thoughts were distracted by first Bridgette pressing her mouth to mine, followed by her tongue sweeping into my lips. Meanwhile, the dusky woman had undone the belt of my leggings and Virginia had shoved my pants down, freeing my member.

“Oh my...” the dusky skinned woman said, her voice faintly accented.

“Mmmmyeah, that’s mine,” Virginia said, sounding faintly tipsy and rather, ah. Cocky.

“Can I have a taste?” the other woman said as Bridgette drew back, her blue eyes positively glowing with delight.

“Mmm ... sure,” Virginia said as the other woman began to kiss down my shoulder blades. The sounds of other sexual noises were starting to reach my knife sharp ears: The slick noise of members and pussies grinding together. The moan and mewl of women in pleasure, and the deeper groans of the men. I glanced to my left, and saw that Maggie had been pinned betwixt her two paramors. One was kissing her hungrily, while the other had buried his face against her rump, his tongue delving between her legs, his hand lifting one of her muscular legs above her head. I could hear Gillian gasping and letting out an eager moan – her voice still sounding quite cultured.

“Oh yes! Yes! Yes!”

I spotted her at last: One of the half-elven men was thrusting into her, a bottle of what appeared to be devotional oil in his hands. I could see why as their posture shifted and Gillian bent herself forward more wantonly, her palms slipping along the nearby wall. The man was decidedly not filling her sex – instead, he was sodomizing her! Thrusting into her green ass right there, his balls slapping against her sex as his oiled cock plundered her forbidden entrance. From the expression on Gillian’s face, this was something she had rather wished to enjoy for some time.

Once more, my attention narrowed to my own circle of lovers, for both Bridgette and her fellow cultist had slid to their knees, their lips leaving trails of smoldering heat along my skin. Bridgette pressed her nose to the side of my cock, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled me with the same wanton eagerness as a gentleman might snort a snifter of medicinal cocaine. Her tongue slid along the base of my green dick, while the dusky skinned woman leaned between my legs, her nose pressed into the base of my scrotum, her tongue darting out to slide feather-light licks along my green balls. Her mouth closed around one and she made a soft, eager mewling noise as she sucked upon my balls. Her hand reached out to caress my belly as Bridgette slurped along my cock, moving her plush lips to the tip of my shaft – her mouth and tongue joined by Virginia, who knelt beside me. While Bridgette took the tip of my cock into her mouth, Virginia attacked other, less obvious areas of pleasure. Her tongue traced along my belly muscles, teased my belly button, while her hand slipped along my hip possessively. Her eyes refused to leave mine – boring into mine, strangely dominant, despite her being one of three women kneeling around me. Her eyes said, as clearly as it could be said: I’m just sharing you. Understand?

I nodded, my voice husky as I whispered: “Understood.”

Virginia’s eyes closed as Bridgette bobbed her head forward – her throat making a soft, wet gulping noise as she accepted the thickness and length of my cock. She paused at the halfway moment, her blue-blue eyes flashing open, a look of purest shock on her face. Bridgette’s throat felt sleeve tight around my member, and her tongue writhed ... and then she drew back, coughing and gasping for air. “H-holy goddess!” she gasped out as Virginia grinned, drawing her lips away from my belly. The dusky skinned girl hummed softly, more focused on my balls than on her own breathing.

“A bit intimidated, huh?” Virginia asked, her voice slightly mocking.

“He’s so ... large...” Bridgette whispered.

Virginia gripped my cock, her fingers closing around the part of my cock that did not glisten with Bridgette’s spittle. She leaned forward and, with queen-like dignity, closed her lips around my cock. She squeezed and rotated her hand, drawing a startled grunt from the base of my throat – but this was merely to adjust her angle of attack. When Virginia slid her mouth forward, her hand gripped my cock only for the time it took for her lips to reach her knuckles. Her eyes slowly closed, but as the lids slid down, I could see her eyes rolling back into her head in pure pleasure as her palms planted themselves on the floor, her posture becoming nearly animalistic as she pressed her lips to the smoothness of my groin. Her body shuddered and I could see her arousal dripping between her thighs, pattering on the floor, gleaming in the candlelight that shrouded the writhing, moaning bodies.

“Goddess...” Bridgette crooned as the dusky skinned woman released my balls, her own breath feeling deliciously cold on my moist skin.

“Damn,” she whispered as Virginia slipped her head back. Virginia’s somewhat smug, cocky attitude did take a slight strike to it when she released my cock from her lips and turned her head aside, coughing and gasping for air for a few moments. Her hand lifted of its own accord and joined Bridgette – who also immediately reached for my newly freed member. Their hands both gripped me and their lips both attacked – Virginia kissing to the tip of my cock while Bridgette licked the top of my member. Her tongue slid forward as Virginia pressed upwards and before I knew it, both women were kissing awkwardly, their lips locking around my cock, their tongues touching one another as much as they were caressing me. I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands as the woman sucking upon my balls went from worshiping them to licking the pert rosebud of my own anus. I had never been caressed there – but I did keep myself fastidiously clean. Even so, I was not expecting it, and the surprising feeling nearly caused me to slap both Virginia and Bridgette in the face. My eyes widened further as the dusky skinned woman slipped an oil-slick finger into my anus, sending a sudden spike of pleasure through me.

“Nnnhhrrr!” I growled, my voice low and animalistic. Bridgette squeaked – for Virginia had pushed her aside and my cock into her mouth. Bridgette sprawled upon the ground, looking quite affronted, while I emptied both of my balls deep within Virginia’s throat. She drew her mouth back just enough so that the tip of my cock was in her mouth, meaning that every blast of my thick jizum filled her cheeks. Her eyes closed and she swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, without trepidation, hesitation or any sign of discomfort. Only once my cum had ceased to flow save for a few tiny dribbles did Virginia pop her lips off the fat tip of my cock and lick her lips slowly.

Bridgette, who had begun to sit up by this point, pouted at her.

“Oh dear, I seem to have drunk it all,” Virginia said. He’s mine, her voice said. This was Virginia without restraint, without nerves, without any compunction holding her back.

I rather liked it.

Bridgette grabbed onto Virginia’s head, her fingers cupping the base of Virginia’s neck. Virginia had a moment of purest shock upon her features before her features were entirely smothered by Bridgette’s own face and bountiful blond hair. Their chests pressed together and their bodies seemed to nearly join together as Bridgette kissed Virginia. That verbiage was quite deliberate in choice and construction: Virginia’s eyes were quite wide and her whole body and its language proclaimed how shocked she was at this sudden display of utter sapphism. Then her eyes went hooded and she moaned into Bridgette’s mouth, her hands sliding slowly down her spine, cupping the bountiful rump of the priestess.

Bridgette drew back, her teeth dragging along Virginia’s lower lip, her own blue eyes hooded as she whispered. “Indeed.” Her tongue slid slowly along her lips. “Not a single drop.”

Virginia panted, quietly. She blinked. Then she shook her head. Then she grinned back.

“You minx,” she whispered. “You were getting him excited again, were you not?”

Bridgette smiled. “I have some guile.”

“Some guile,” Virginia murmured, her palm reaching up to cup and squeeze the remarkably full tit of the cultist. It was rather shameful and base to admit this: But Bridgette’s direct scheme had worked exactly as she had desired. My member was hard and achingly eager. Virginina, though, moved quickly. She pushed Bridgette onto her back, the blond girl squeaking. The dusky skinned woman who had been thrusting her finger into my ass moved between my legs, a rather alarming feeling I must admit. The dusky skinned girl crawled atop Bridgette, arching her back and crooning eagerly as their sexes pressed together, creating a kind of a ... ah...

Around me, the debauchery was increasing. Maggie was being stuffed by three men – one was filling her mouth, his balls slapping against her chin, the other two thrusting wantonly into her pussy and into her ass, liberal amounts of oil being used to lubricate her passages. Gillian was sucking on one cock, her knees pressed to the ground, her other hand pumping eagerly on the other shaft. Sally was lost between a pile of other men, her hands caressing them seemingly at random. She seemed quite happy ... and I was more than happy to be drawn down to my knees by Virginia. She caressed the ass of the dusky skinned girl, her eyes glittering eagerly.

“So, Living One...” she murmured. “Which one do you want?”

“Is this in the scriptures, old girl?” I asked as my cock pressed to the slick, pressed together pussies. Both Bridgette and her fellow cultist mewled softly, their hips writhing as they ground themselves against me. I slid slowly between their bodies, my cock nestled into their bellies, grinding against both of their clits as they rubbed themselves against me, trapping my cock in their soft bellies. Bridgette kissed her cultist, her fingernails digging into the other woman’s more muscular shoulders. Virginia kissed me then – her mouth capturing mine as she reached down to cup and squeeze my ass.

I drew back – and Virginia slapped my ass with one hand as she laughed. “Fuck her brains out.”

Her turned out to be Bridgette – the cult leader arched her back and cocked her legs wider, sending her fellow cultist sliding forward along her body. This caused Bridgette’s face to be entirely covered by her dusky breasts – and made Bridgette’s moan rather muffled as I hilted every inch of my massive green cock into the human woman. The dusky cultist pushed herself up, whimpering.

“Why don’t I get cock?” She pouted.

“We don’t even know your name,” Virginia said, slapping the brown skinned woman’s butt.

“Tessa,” she said – at last! I was feeling a mite chagrined (when I was not feeling a rampant lust) about simply thinking of her as ‘the dusky skinned cultist.’ Tessa’s face softened as Virginia leaned forward. This kiss was less fierce, less sudden, less surprising than her first kiss. It was as if Virginia was exploring this within the wild free for all. A lezzie faire situation, if you will forgive the hideous pun. Virginia drew back as I started to slowly thrust into Bridgette, the blond woman moaning with wanton eagerness. Virginia’s hand pushed on Tessa’s ass and Tessa was slid forward. Soon, Bridgette’s moans were muffled – muffled by Tessa’s damp, eager pussy. As she began to lap at Tessa’s pussy, one of the blond farmboys ambled over, his wet and achingly hard cock looking poised to plunder Virginia.

Virginia, grinning, pushed him past her to stand before Tessa. Soon, Tessa’s mouth was muffled by the farmboy’s cock as he thrust into her eager mouth. The soft gulp gulp gulp noise that she made alternated well with the quiet pap pap pap of his balls. Moans of orgasmic pleasure were coming from every corner of the room as I felt my own pleasure buzzing in my balls, my spine tingling and sparking along my cock. I gritted my teeth, trying to sting things out further – but I could tell I did not need to. Bridgette’s moaning bliss was quite clear, even with Tessa’s sex mashed up against her lips, even with her juices dripping down her chin.

But it was a point of pride.

Virginia slid her hand along my shoulders. She leaned against me and she murmured something quite soft – and I could not hear it over the sounds of moaning, gasps, cries of pleasure. I could feel it, whispering along my skin, like a warm caress. My hand found one of hers and squeezed tightly, unable to speak. I was instead too focused upon leashing my pleasure, to sustain the moment of bliss for me and Bridgette.

Virginia looked into my eyes. She smiled – an oddly shy expression for one in the midst of a cultist’s orgy.

That smile was more than I could bear.

My balls surged and I shuddered as I began to pump my seed into Bridgette. The blond woman’s back arched as if she were a cat in heat. Her hips nearly left the floor and her sex clenched me like a silken glove. Pleasure exploded through me and my eyes went faintly unfocused. I swore, in the hazy bliss of the moment, the statue of the goddess was sprawled on her belly, her golden chin cupped in her hands, her legs kicked coquettishly above her back, her eyes glittering with pleasure. I blinked – and when my vision focused one more, the statue was standing in the position it had been in before. Slowly, I deflated, sprawled to the side on the floor as the moans of the room grew more faded and transitioned to pants and gasps. Warmth smothered me as Virginia laid atop my body, kissing my cheek, licking my neck. She laid on me, a slick and sweet blanket. More flesh pressed to mine – and I realized Maggie had found me and was burrowing to my side. Gillian, her long legs streaked with the cum of other males, settled home, while Sally soon serves as my pillow with her thigh thighs. Their hands caressed me, and my eyes closed as the strange magick of the night faded, leaving me feeling bone tired and more happy than I had in quite some time.

I slept.

In inverse proportion to my happiness of last evening came the awkward embarrassment of the morning. Tip toeing slowly out of the room filled with Geshtiannaites with my clothing tucked under one arm and my companions following after, each one not quite able to look the other in the eyes, was made all the more agonizing by the fact that Dogmeat, my loyal canine, was seated near the front door and watched us every step of the way. Those innocent eyes became oddly censorious as they watched us reach the door, dress in silence, then step outside, into the growing warmth of the July day. I stood there, waiting for the villagers to descend upon the cultist compound with pitchforks and torches, ready to drive the lustful members from the village with a furious passion.

Instead, a man walked by with a crate of beers under one arm, heading towards The Bleeding Rose. He inclined his head to Virginia. “Ma’am,” he said, before shooting a glare at me for the effrontery of being a half-orc while in his presence. Once he was done, I coughed.

“So,” I said. “Isle of Despair rules, everyone?”

“Agreed,” ‘Magnus’ rumbled.

“Indubitably,” Gillian said, sniffing primly.

“Yeah...” Virginia said, but there was a shy little smile on her lips.

Sally hiccuped.

“What now?” Virgina asked, her voice all gruff business.

“Well,” I said. “According to one of the half-elves in the tavern, there is an elf in the town who goes by the name of Myrth. He knows the way to Quintarra. Once we have that, we’ll know where to go.” I smiled. “How hard will it be to coax it from him?”

Sally beamed. “Thaz’ the spirit, sir!”

Mryth looked at me as if I had been scraped off his shoe. I stood before his front door, my hands holding my hat before me as I looked as peaceful and respectful as I could. Finding his home had taken asking a few folks for direction and knocking at the door of two rather irritated humans before finally reaching the right doorway. Now, I got a chance to look the elf over. Like most of his kind, he was tall and willowy, with long straight hair and almond shaped eyes. His irises were a pale red, to go with his milk white skin, and his hair was as black as mine. His knife sharp ears were as long as mine. He was dressed in the well tailored, narrow finery that elves wore while among humans, and he immediately pulled out his pocket watch, flicking it open.

“Yes?” he asked, looking down at the watch – as if he were counting the seconds I was wasting him. I buried the flare of irritation that flashed across my face.

“Sir,” I said, as politely as I could. “I am seeking the route to Quintarra, the city of the elves, and have been informed that you know where it is?”

“Oh, I do,” he said, closing the pocketwatch with a click.

“Ah, good,” I said, smiling. “Where is it?”

Mryth looked right into my eyes. “It’s in the forest. Everyone knows that.”

My left eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. My fingers tightened on my hat. “I realize, sir, that it is in the forest,” I said, trying to sound calm.

“Then why are you asking me where it is?” Mryth asked, his voice pure confusion. He slipped the watch back into his breast pocket.

“Because I do not know where Quintarra is,” I said. “Which is why I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s in the-” He started.

“I know it’s in a forest,” I said, my voice rising in pitch slightly. “But ... do you know where it is?” I narrowed my eyes.

Mryth smiled at me. “Yes,” he said, his eyes glittering. I clenched my jaw.

“Then tell me, please,” I said.

“It’s ... in the Glimmering Forest,” Mryth said. By now, he was growing less capable at concealing his mirth – he actually had to bite his lip to keep from laughing uproariously. Behind me, I could hear Virginia’s knuckles popping. I tried to not tear my hat in half.

“Where in the Glimmering Forest?” I growled.

Mryth crooked his finger, leaning forward. I leaned forward as well, my back stiffer than a steel rod. Mryth’s lips nearly touched mine: “In the trees!”

My hat struck the ground as I grabbed him by his lapels, lifting him up off his feet, my biceps burning with the effort. “In what trees!” I bellowed, unable to keep the wroth from my voice.

“Oh, you know!” He said, laughing, his hands spreading wide. “In the branches!”