Last Name - Part 1

“Devlin?”

The warrior glanced over at the man riding up next to him and sighed, “Yes, Naro?”

“When are you going to give up dallying with these monstrous women?”

“Maybe when they stop being so damn good at what they do.”

“The Goddess forbids giving them your seed.”

“As you have reminded me every two days since you joined us, cleric. As I have told you every single time, I don’t follow your Goddess. There’s also the fact that I don’t see you dropping to your knees and offering to suck my dick with a big smile on your face.” He glanced over at the man in white robes again. “Not that I would want you to,” he added. “I’ve heard that some of your order will fuck anyone as long as it’s another human.”

“Last I checked, neither of them were sucking your dick either,” said Naro with a glance back at the other members of their party.

Devlin cringed, “You got me there.” Following behind were two men on horses with two monster girls walking between them.

Chatting with the bard was the troupe’s other warrior, a lizard-girl wearing scale mail that covered her torso and upper legs along with a large steel shield on her back and a broadsword on her hip. Brek was a monster girl with a very human-looking body except for her scales and the long tail that flicked back and forth as she walked. The lizard-girl was not to be mistaken for the race of lizardwomen who existed before the coming of monster girls and suffered a similar fate to orcs and goblins. Although she could shift her arms and legs between lizard and human, the odd angles of her lizard appendages weren’t beneficial for a creature walking upright. Her feet and lower legs were bright green, but the color slowly transitioned to a rich, royal blue as it moved up her body to her neck. Other than a white oval patch extending from the bottom of her neck to her chin, her head was also blue and sported green hair slightly darker than her legs. As she spoke with their bard, Naden, the lizard-girl repeatedly smoothed down the ridge attempting to rise up beneath her chin. She explained shortly after joining Devlin that the male lizards matching her scale pattern used the dewlap beneath their chin to attract females and scare off smaller males. Unfortunately, human men didn’t find the protrusion sexy, and the flap became a problem when it extended while enticing a man into bed. At a distance, she looked to have the slitted eyes of a venomous, reptilian monster girl. Up close, her pupils were round with very thin yellow irises, and black, triangular spots above and below her eyes gave the impression of something more dangerous. Unfortunately for Devlin, she had small, pointed teeth on a bony ridge right behind her lips, making them very stiff compared to a human’s. Even if she could cover her teeth with her lips, the teeth themselves were so sharp she would cut herself.

Walking next to her was Maris, the grey tabby cat-girl. Their resident thief and burglar, she acted as a scout on these types of missions. Devlin was thankful the feline didn’t feel the constant need to steal stuff like a few other thieves he had known. The cat was pretty with black ears and stripes that lightly tinted her skin in a tabby pattern. She wore a brown, tight-fitting vest made of soft leather with a pair of tiny shorts that barely covered her bottom and sex. A belt lined with pouches hung loosely from her waist, and she currently had the hood of her cloak thrown back. Her golden eyes had the customary slit pupils of a cat and were currently looking annoyed as she glared at Sifid, the mage, who was presently ignoring her. Sadly, her tongue was what made Naro’s statement true. It was so rough she could nearly take skin off with it. He didn’t want to find out what it was like to have the flesh licked from his cock.

Maris could change her arms back and forth from feline to human. The cat-girl used her human legs when they were at camp or the rare town that tolerated monster girls but mostly used the feline versions when they were traveling as she had little problem keeping up with the horses unless they were at full gallop. Both of the girls had horses but preferred to walk. Brek had her lead rope in her hand while Maris had tied hers to the back of Sifid’s saddle.

Devlin knew that if it weren’t for Naro, the mage would happily accept the cat-girl’s advances. At twice Devlin’s age, Sifid was the oldest in the party, and he and Naro both hailed from the same town. The mage was an outcast for learning pagan magic, but the two became fast friends despite their differences and decided to go out adventuring together. Partly for the sake of adventuring, but also to get Sifid away from the ongoing persecution of the townsfolk. Since Naro was the only one who really accepted him, Sifid tried his hardest not to do anything that might upset the cleric, the only exception being his pursuit of magic. Devlin didn’t think it was a very healthy friendship, but it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“How much longer until we reach the beast’s territory?” he called back to the mage. Sifid pulled out a small, leather-bound journal and flipped to a page with a green ribbon hanging out. Actually, there were three green ribbons, each a different shade, along with four blue ones, two purple, a brown, and seven or so reds. Devlin wondered at how the man kept track of them all. His ability to keep information organized made him the prime candidate for the party’s chronicler and navigator. After checking the drawing in his book, he took out a crystal and drew a small spell in the air. The rune collapsed into glowing circles and lines that only the mage could understand.

“We should cross into its territory around nightfall. Its lair appears to be another few hours beyond that.”

“Big territory,” remarked Devlin.

“Big beast,” added Naro.

“How much longer until we make camp?” asked Naden. “I think the boys are looking to rest their feet,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. Behind the party was a small company of foot soldiers followed by mules holding the men’s provisions, an unwanted gift from King Lermin, the monarch who hired them.

King Lermin had a problem. He was on his third marriage, and his latest queen was young enough to be his daughter. His first wife killed herself, believing that her body was broken and unable to bear children. The king’s chambers were in the castle’s upper rooms, but a previous queen who didn’t care for her husband moved the queen’s quarters into the eastern tower just above the castle stables. Nobody knew of her death until the body was found on the stables’ roof the next morning. His second wife was caught sleeping with one of the king’s viziers. Both claimed there was no affair and were merely trying to give Lermin an heir. The vizier had no intention of claiming the child. This only angered Lermin more. In a final act of defiance before the executioner’s ax came down, the queen screamed out that the king’s seed was weak and that any heir would not be his son.

Three years passed as Lermin scoured the lands, searching for a wizard able to remove the curse. The mages all laughed at him. Most told him there was no curse, as did the clerics he pestered until the church stepped in, telling him to stop or they would withdraw their priests from his lands. Instead of believing the numerous responses denying the existence of a curse, he continued his search until he ran across an old diviner who instructed him to take a new bride and to send a party of those not from his lands to fetch a horn upon the nose of a specific beast.

A few small parties went to slay the creature, but none returned. Lermin hired larger parties, but those also failed, with no survivors to report back with the beast’s abilities. Devlin and the others had no plans to take on this suicide mission, but the pay they were offering was substantial, and the king was sending his foot soldiers along to ensure the creature died.

They didn’t really want the soldiers because the trip took three times longer than it needed to. However, Devlin appreciated the extra sword arms with all the other groups of adventurers getting killed. He looked back at the men trudging along behind them and quietly sighed. At least he tried to appreciate them. Only the company commander rode a horse and had a proper sword and armor. The rest carried significantly cheaper spears and sported hardened, padded leather for protection. These were certainly not the best King Lermin had to offer.

On the other hand, the rest of the garrison didn’t look much better. Despite lacking evidence of any real ‘curse,’ neighboring kingdoms and merchants were hesitant to invest in a reign where succession was uncertain. Over the years since her death, the second queen’s words had damaged Teremin’s economy far beyond anything she could have imagined. The effects were apparent in the number and quality of King Lermin’s soldiers. Young and generally unskilled, it looked as though the struggling monarch was pulling farmers from their fields to fill his army’s ranks.

Given their quest, a farmer with a spear was better than nothing.

“Sifid makes the call,” answered Devlin before turning to the mage. “We should be within striking distance of the creature’s territory, but I don’t want them overtired and lagging behind tomorrow,” he said with a glance at the soldiers.

The mage nodded in understanding before flipping his book open again. No sooner did Devlin face forward again before feeling a slight weight on the horse behind him, followed by a hand on his shoulder as someone vaulted over top of him to land nimbly on the front of his saddle. A moment later, two deceptively strong legs wrapped around him from the front as the woman lowered herself. Devlin scooted back in his seat as far as he could to give the woman the option of sitting down. Unsurprisingly, she stopped when the bulge in his pants rubbed across her groin.

“Hello, Maris,” said the fighter.

“Sifid isn’t paying attention to me,” pouted the feline.

“As well he shouldn’t,” quipped Naro from beside them.

“I was talking to Dev. Kindly keep your mouth shut,” growled Maris.

“Learn to respect your betters, demon,” spat the cleric.

“I don’t know why I have to keep telling you this, but I’m not a fucking demon, idiot. And I do respect my betters. You just aren’t one of them. Now leave me be so I can rub my cunt on Dev’s big cock.”

Naro snorted in disgust and even turned a little green at the idea of seeing the woman get off in front of him. Tugging on his horse’s reins, he dropped back to take up a position beside Sifid.

“I told you not to antagonize him,” said the warrior, looking down at Maris.

The cat-girl looked earnestly contrite, “Sorry, but he started it.”

“Yes, but you can’t bring the wrath of the church down on our heads the way he can. Shouldn’t you be out scouting?” he asked, nodding toward the trees on either side of their path.

She pointed to her ears as one swiveled to zero in on a bird singing in the forest canopy. “I am,” she said, “and this is actually better for listening than having Sifid and Naden’s horses on either side of me.”

“But you are facing the wrong way.”

Maris rubbed the crotch of her shorts against his bulge again. “I can turn around if you would rather slide this thing between my asscheeks.”

“Could you not, you harlot!” Naro called out from behind them.

The cat-girl peeked over Devlin’s shoulder, “Mind your own business, cleric.”

“No, Maris, though I may take you up on that when we make camp.”

The feline shook her head, “Brek called dibs already. If that’s okay with you.”

“She looked like she had an eye on Naden tonight.”

“Nope, she asked me earlier if she could have you for the night.” Maris sniffed and tapped the side of her nose, “I think she might be coming into season.”

“I’m not sure if I’m up for fathering any more children,” said Devlin.

“More?” she asked. She knew a little about his past after a night of some very drunken sex.

“I’m certain I’ve left a few here and there over the years.”

“Any of them short and green?” she teased with an impish giggle. “With this thing in your pants,” she said, grinding her sex against him, “I’m not even surprised. Though I don’t think you need to worry about Brek, she has some gondas weed saved up. Honestly, if I came into heat, even though it would just be going through the motions, I would prefer you over Naden. He always has this attitude like fucking him is some great honor he is bestowing on us. I hate to tell him this, but you’re bigger.”

Devlin smiled, “I think you and Brek have mentioned that.”

Sifid’s voice interrupted them. “Devlin, I think I found a spot,” he said nervously while holding up a map of the area.

The fighter barely glanced back at the man, “Good. How far out is it?”

“Only a couple more hours. Do you want to check if the place I picked is okay?”

“No, I trust you. Just let me know when we are getting close. Maris? Care to find us some supper?”

The cat-girl leered at him, “Only if you and I are on watch together tonight.”

“Maris...” he said, giving her a stern glare.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying. You said about two hours?” she asked, lifting herself to look over the fighter’s shoulder.

“A little less, assuming the map is correct,” replied the mage.

“Up, please?” she asked Devlin. He dropped the reins and lifted the feline woman by the hips until she was standing on the saddle. The cat-girl jumped from the horse and dropped to all fours before bolting ahead of the party. Running up the path for a few seconds, she darted into the thicker forest to the side and promptly disappeared.

The fighter caught a glimpse of a familiar feline through the trees moments after Sifid directed them to a clearing off the main path.

“Dev!” she yelled, waving at them as the troupe broke from the path and came around the tree line, “I need your help!”

“What’s wrong?” he called back.

“I may have gone a little overboard,” she said more quietly as he approached, “I got us an elk. It’s field dressed but still way too heavy for me to get back here.”

Devlin chuckled, “You’re going to be popular tonight.” Turning back to the soldiers, he called out to the commanding officer, “Send a few men up to help the cat-girl. She got us some supper and needs help bringing it back. Have some more work on a large fire and a couple of roasting spits.”

“She won’t molest my men, will she?”

“Not unless they ask me to,” Maris shot back. “But seriously, the carcass is still out there, and we need to get back to it before it something starts eating it.”

The commander got three volunteers to help the cat, then split the remaining soldiers into two groups, one to make the fire while the others set up camp. They looked on with envy as Devlin, Sifid, and Naden all tossed out bundles of fabric that expanded and assembled themselves into tents. Brek had one as well but had only used it when he and Naden both pissed her off at the same time. Maris owned a tent like theirs but preferred to use her cloak. Along with helping her move quickly and quietly through the shadows, she could turn the covering into a small, one-person, cocoon-like shelter with a word. If she wasn’t spending the night in someone else’s tent, she often climbed a tree and used her cloak to keep warm at night.

He really wanted to get his hands on one of the fabled elven tents that were huge on the inside but only a tiny two-person tent on the outside. Someone told him they even had a source of water and a toilet in them. How nice it would be to go on an adventure and never have to squat over a latrine trench again.

Devlin smiled to himself. It might look like their tents were common to the soldiers, but in actuality, they were received in place of money from a frail old wizard for saving his granddaughter. A suitor who couldn’t accept rejection had stolen away with the young woman and tried to force her to marry him. They weren’t certain if the girl was chaste when kidnapped, but she most certainly wasn’t when she returned. It took three days to get back to the wizard’s tower, and the damned bard had her bouncing on his prick before the sun disappeared on the first night. The fighter could still see the shit-eating grin on Naden’s face as the woman lied to her grandfather about how her kidnapper ravaged her.

He would have sent Naden on his way long ago if he weren’t so damn useful. Aside from the magical effects of his music, the man positively dripped charisma. He could always get them the best prices when trading for supplies and often talked them into bonuses or extra rewards for their quests. Many merchants, bureaucrats, and wizards were surprised when Naden stepped aside to let Devlin close a deal. The fighter also lauded the man’s awareness of his limitations. He was simply too flighty for leadership, locking up mentally and physically when he needed to make a life or death call.

The flip side was that any trouble they got into with the town or city folk was almost always the bard’s fault. More specifically, because of him and his dick. He couldn’t count the number of times they had been run out of an inn or chased out of town by soldiers because Naden got caught with his cock in the wrong man’s daughter or wife. Oddly, this hadn’t hurt their income. Along with the infamy of a party member who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, there was the solid knowledge that if someone hired Devlin’s party, the job would get done.

Something nagged him about this particular job, though. They had previously walked into situations blind but not quite like this where the beast they were dispatching was a complete unknown. When offered the job, Devlin tried to demure. There was just too much risk with so many other parties failing to return. However, the old seer who was now the king’s adviser had been adamant that Lermin hire Devlin and his party, pressing the monarch to add more gold to their reward until he simply could not refuse.

Then again, heaps of gold didn’t mean much if you were dead.

The fighter shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no sense in dwelling on his choice when they were on the edge of the creature’s territory.

Maris came walking out of the woods a little while later with the elk’s hide rolled up and thrown over her shoulder. “Sifid, can you store this until we get a chance to sell it?” she asked the mage.

The man looked down, “Tun, store the hide.” The soldiers watching jumped as the hide turned into a speck of light and drifted into a pouch on the mage’s side.

“You could have just had him do that with this,” said one of the soldiers behind the cat-girl. He and one other had lashed the elk’s legs to a long, sturdy branch they were carrying on their shoulders. Even with the lashing up by its knees, the animal’s back still nearly dragged on the ground. The third soldier followed behind, carrying the elk’s head by the antlers.

“But that wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun,” she said, flicking her tail back and forth while giving the soldier a hungry look.

Groans and howls of disgust erupted from the other soldiers. “We didn’t do anything!” the man yelled at them.

Maris let out an exaggerated sigh. “Sadly, he’s right. Not that I didn’t try,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear as she walked over to stand next to Devlin.

The fighter noticed a faint, rumbling purr coming from the feline woman. “You fucked him, didn’t you,” he said quietly. It was a statement more than a question.

The noise stopped as she looked up at him. “You’re off the hook for sharing a watch with me,” she said, holding up three fingers and wiggling them at him as she started purring again.

Devlin shook his head and chuckled as they oversaw the soldiers getting their supper cooking.

“May I come in, Devlin?” called Brek from outside his tent. The lizard-girl’s Common was heavily accented from the lack of mobility in her lips and also because she was from lands far to the south. To the fighter, she had an odd way of saying things that sounded more round and open than anyone else he had met.

Devlin sat in his tent with his war hammer across his lap. Since they had all the extra help with supper, he used the opportunity to replace the leather wrap on the handle. His hands stopped for a moment as he answered, “You are always welcome in my tent, Brek.”

The brightly-colored, reptilian woman slipped inside and stood watching as the fighter finished weaving the strips of leather around the hammer’s metal shaft before tying them off and turning the remaining straps into a customary loop. When he was done and set the weapon to the side, she stepped over his legs and sat down in his lap.

“I have a favor to ask,” she said, draping her arms around his neck. He noticed she was wearing a leather collar to keep her dewlap down. Devlin appreciated not having the flexible bone it was attached to smack him in the face. The collar also meant she didn’t have much control over it at the moment.

“I’ll certainly help if I can.”

“I am coming into season, and my body wants you.”

“Your body wants me?”

“You are leader, kind, use your head,” she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, “and strong. Good for a father.”

“I’m not planning on settling down,” he warned.

“You need not worry. I feel the pull to return home. I want you to be my daughter’s sire when I go.”

“We’ll talk about that when the time comes. How can I help you now?”

“As I said, you are the best choice for a father. My body wants you,” she said, grinding her sex into the front of his pants. She wore what amounted to a sturdy shift beneath her armor’s padding to keep it from rubbing her scales uncomfortably, but nothing else as far as undergarments.

“I would be happy to help. After supper?”

Brek’s hips shifted against him. “Now, please, and later too if you can.”

Devlin reached into one of the two saddlebags sitting to one side of his tent. Digging around for a moment, he pulled out a small piece of ebony with an inscription carved into it along with a large metal ring. The ebony was a gift from Naro so the cleric wouldn’t have to listen to the feline and reptilian women’s cries of pleasure at night. Thankfully, the soundproofing only worked one way, so if somebody raised the alarm he could still hear it. The ring was very special to him but probably for all the wrong reasons. Made of solid platinum, he pulled the ring from the same pile of loot where Sifid got his bag of holding. Within a minute of slipping the ring over his cock he would be bordering on painfully hard, assuming he wasn’t already, and stay that way until he took it off. The only limitations seemed to be that he still got over sensitive after cumming, so there was still downtime afterward, and that it would become uncomfortable after wearing it for too long.

Brek reached down to undo Devlin’s belt and the clasp on his trousers. Sliding off his lap, she tugged his pants down as he leaned back on his arms and raised up for her. When his cock finally sprung free, she leaned over and let her super soft tongue slide out and wrap around it. Her teeth prevented taking him in her mouth, but the softness of her tongue almost made up for it. Licking her fingers, she smeared the outside of her sex with her viscous saliva and positioned herself over Devlin’s waiting prick. The lips of the lizard-girl’s pussy sealed so tightly the initial penetration was often unpleasant as the rough skin slipped over the head of his cock. Brek’s natural lubricant kept things moving smoothly afterward. Once inside, the way her sex gripped him made Devlin forget all about the moment of discomfort.

After thoroughly coating his shaft, the lizard-girl began moving up and down on his prick. Something was certainly different. Usually, when Brek spent the night with him, she enjoyed the full length of his cock or letting him deep-stroke her from behind. This time, her small but quick bounces kept them in constant contact while her inner walls did their best to coax the cum from his prick. Devlin was happy to give Brek what she wanted. A few minutes later, she chanted quietly in his ear, “Fill me, give me, give me,” while panting with pleasure and clinging tightly to him as she felt him release his seed deep within her.

When his cock finished straining to pump more cum into her, Brek sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, smiling. At the same time, Devlin winced as her outer lips clamped down around the base of his prick, trapping it inside her before he could go soft.

They sat like that until Devlin noticed a change in the sounds coming from the camp around them.

“Supper is about ready,” said the fighter. The lizard-girl mumbled her disappointment and relaxed the muscles of her sex, but didn’t move. “I have my ring. We will do this again later,” he reminded her. Groaning in protest, she lifted herself off Devlin’s prick. It was probably good they waited a little while. She still squeezed so hard as she rose off him his cock was almost dry when it slipped free. Nuzzling his cheek, her version of a kiss since her sharp teeth weren’t suited for the passionate, tongue-dueling kind, she stood up before stepping aside so he could get himself situated to leave the tent.

“I will stay here for a time,” she said, looking down at her body which had turned bright green all over. Like Maris’s purring, it was a telltale sign she was feeling happy and content after good sex. In a few minutes, the blues and darker greens of her normal coloration would return.

Giving her a quick hug, he bent forward and kissed her on the forehead before exiting the tent. Kisses on the lips weren’t for party members. Dalliances or whores were fine but not women in his troupe. He frowned as the memory of a clearing in a faraway forest and a gorgeous dark-haired woman sitting naked on a fallen tree came to him. The moonlight shone on her perfect skin as she opened her legs and beckoned him over. His thoughts shifted to long nights with the same woman snuggled against his chest as he stoked her hair. Shaking his head, he chased the memories away before they could go any further. He wouldn’t let himself get that close to one of his party again.

The next morning they had been on the road for nearly two hours when Devlin leaned over in his saddle. “Brek,” he said, getting the attention of the lizard girl walking within arm’s reach of his leg. “I understand that the lizards you take after are very territorial when it’s mating season, but you need to let other people talk to me.”

Her head snapped up to glare at him, her eyes filled with hurt and anger. Moments later, her expression softened. “Sorry, I can’t help but feel like they are trying to take you away.”

“You need to remember that I’m doing this as a favor. If I decide to take Maris to bed tonight, you have no say in the matter.”

Brek looked away, “I will try.” Despite a very energetic night with him last night, her frustration was evident on her face, and the leather collar was straining to contain the brightly colored dewlap. He wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted more alone time with him or ward off everyone else but suspected it was a mix of the two.

“Don’t worry about it right now. A little further and we will have other things to worry about,” As the party leader straightened up in his saddle, he heard the mage nudge his horse forward.

“Devlin, we are getting close to the lair,” said Sifid, holding up his map for him to look at while casting wary glances at Brek. The woman had run him off once already today.

“How long?”

“Half an hour at most.”

Devlin turned around, “Maris, go on ahead and see what you can find out about the creature we are up against.” The cat-girl dipped her head in understanding and shifted to her feline arms and legs before running ahead. “Brek ... it looks like you are ready to go. Sifid, Naro, and Naden; get your spells and songs ready, then follow along.” Looking further back, he addressed King Lermin’s soldiers. “Make sure the horses are secure, then follow along behind the magic users. Keep your distance unless called. We are going to scout ahead and see if this thing is worth taking on,” he said as he dismounted.

“What do you mean, ‘if it’s worth taking on’? You are on His Majesty’s errand. You are honor-bound to kill the creature,” spat the lieutenant. He was getting sick of these ‘adventurers’ treating him and his men like stable boys and scullery maids.

Devlin returned the man’s glare, “I’m honor-bound to nothing but the coin your king pays me, and I can’t spend my money if I’m dead. If you want someone to throw their life away for your cause, tell King Lermin to hire a paladin next time. You have your orders.” Pulling his war hammer from its holder on the saddle, he lifted it over his head one-handed and let it drop behind his back until it clicked into the dwarven-made holster there. He took a moment to appreciate some of the impressed looks on the soldier’s faces before he and Brek began jogging after Maris.

“What the hell is that?” asked Devlin.

“It’s the size and shape of a dire bear, but I’ve never seen one that’s solid black with glowing red eyes and spikes running down its back before,” answered Maris.