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I dismounted from my horse, hating to be in a fully human appearance. But we traveled through Zeutch. The sight of a naga would have soldiers hunting threesome my party. I fought the urge to sigh in relief, my thighs throbbing and aching. “What?” I asked Shilia, my lamia slave. She crouched in a field. She had ranged ahead, scouting for us. I traveled in a small party. Besides my slave, only with Gor, a brutal ogre I kept cloaked in shadows, and his handler, Antrevia, accompanied me. “I found him, dread Istandar,” Shilia called, her gray-black ears twitching. Before I could march to her, the ogre rumbled, “Travelers.” The deep baritone of his voice rattled my bones. “Play?” I looked up the road and spotted a wagon being driven by two oxen, a man and a woman sitting on the seat. They had the look of farmers, the back of the wagon loaded with lumpy, burlap sacks. My mind considered it for a moment. “Enjoy.” The invisible hulk rumbled in delight. I let the shadows melt from him, missionary exposing his greasy, yellow bulk. He charged down the road, his handler galloping after his sport. Ogres loved to violate any living creature they could with their cocks. Male or female, they didn't care. Las's cum had birthed something foul with their race. I left him to his rape and Antrevia to her enjoyment watching his brutal passions. I crossed the fields. Screams rose behind me. I marched with imperious strides to my lamia. She fell into a low crouch before two bloated bodies. Flies crawled on them. Animals had feasted on both, chewing away flesh from the face. But I still recognized Keythivak and his lamia. Irritation swelled through me. I glared down at my failed servant. If he had performed his task, I wouldn't have had to anal abandon my comforts and risk my own safety out here. A woman screamed in the background, Gor rumbling his pleasure. I looked to the west, the trail continuing onward. I would find the amulet and the thieves. When I did, I would unleash Gor upon big cock them. I would take such delight watching the ogre rut with their bodies. To be continued... This is primarily an erotic bdsm Hardcore detective story / murder mystery though it probably belongs best in reluctant or non-consent. It might be a bit heavy or extreme for some tastes, so be warned before you start. If The Redhead in the Killer Kollar was at your limits, this is beyond them. She knelt down and started to gather up the fallen cards. Heather sniffled, looking at him. Her tongue goes into my mouth and begins to wrestle with my own tongue. missionary Each of the three teachers ground out the remaining classes. "Hello?" He rose to his feet and unfastened his trousers, seizing Katya by the hair to direct his stiff cock to her mouth. “I don’t think that’s it.” He anal ran his fingers through her shiny black hair. Felt it stop. I have always been embarrassed about my breasts size, but it was kind of nice receiving the attention that I was getting after spending all those boring hours at work alone. That mixed with my chemistry major put in me in a big cock great threesome place to make various weed products to distribute. Isabelle yelped, dragging her Hardcore palms over her breasts through her blouse, aching to relieve some of the tension that threatened to overwhelm her. After she dried her hair and put her collar on she went back out into where Michael sat completely naked save for her collar and cuffs. I buried into her. Another question was answered. I was buzzing on my power when we reached the tattoo parlor. A Nadi bolt shot into my back, collapsing my shoulder.