The Minotaurs of Verdant

Race Profile

Once refugees from another continent far across the sea, the last eleven generations of minotaurs have been born in Verdant. Broad shouldered and powerful, these people find satisfaction in the tilling of the earth and watching their hard work come to fruition. They prefer a rural life but have adapted quite well to the comforts of being so close to Verdant proper. A family oriented species, one bull will often have three or four cows and many children, which help manage the large farms they oversee. Slow to anger, Minotaurs can none the less be stubborn and unflinching against obstacles. Quiet by nature, they care deeply for their families and will do anything to protect them.

Artwork & Depictions

Rulers & Government

Given that the Minotaur people live under Verdant’s governance, they are under the rule of it’s sovereign Queen and her laws. However, the Minotaur people brought much of their culture with them from their homeland. Despite the centuries that have passed since their landing, they maintain a strong cultural tradition. As such, a Council of Elders holds their traditions in place within their adherence to the laws of the land. Verdant is by and large permissive of the bovine traditions, as it was the refugees they welcomed that knew how to stabilize the unique dual growing seasons and allowed their nation to prosper in the desert. Given their long-standing devotion to the land and it’s production, the House of Agriculture has been held by a Minotaur representative for at least the last three hundred years. The House of Trade works closely in tandem with the House of Agriculture.

Allies & Enemies

While the enemies of Verdant are shared by the Minotaurs as a threat to their survival, there is very little they have personally against other races. They maintain a close, respectful relationship with the humans of Verdant, especially since it is their expertise which keeps the city well fed. This friendship has developed over time, allowing for Minotaurs to be one of the few other races who fully participate in Verdant society. They seem to get along well with the often shrewd Gabelins. It may be due to their patient, calm nature which conveys a kind of sincerity the nomadic race understands. Or it may be that the Gabelins know it is in their best interests to be nice to the people who control the crops. They seem curious about the Orcs, despite some misgivings. More than anything they seem eager to learn about the flora that thrives beyond the Greenback Mountains. The Vadels interest them, given that they seem willing to entertain any other race with the shared trait of cranial points. While they do not seem to share the outright antagonism must have for the Yenya, they are wary of them for good reason.

Religion & Belief

While the Minotaurs have no ‘gods’ or deities, they hold their ancestral dead in great veneration. The recently deceased, or those who have passed and still have family around to remember them, are considered patrons of their family and descendants. It is thought that passing on to the next world imbues the dead with certain powers over things that happen in this world. Everything from a good harvest to multiple children, familial prosperity and good health are attributed to the ancestors. They are given a place in the home where they are offered food and drink on a regular basis and spoke to as if they are still there. Many of the Minotaur families have their ancestor’s favorite treats and drinks memorized by heart as appeasing them results in good luck. Ancestors who are remembered by the people for their good deeds or leadership are considered to have special attributes and powers. They are thought to offer protection to their people as a whole and specifically the village that they were born to. Among the Minotaurs who reside in Verdant, they most revere the one who brought them from their homeland and claimed a place for them. His name was Vitovio, he was said to have a broken horn on which he wore a bronze prosthetic, and all minotaurs with horns where little bronze caps on them in his memory.

Horticulturalists & Politicians

Having remained in Verdant for multiple generations, much of social structure has been absorbed by the minotaurs. They can attempt the trials or join in the military in order to become Citizens. They hold jobs in the various markets and districts of the main city. They trade, work and apply for thralls much as anyone else does. Some of the concepts regarding gender have even taken root in their culture. However if one takes a closer look, they can see where much of their personal background has remained, creating a unique blend of the memories of their homeland with the rigid social structure of Verdant.

Part of what allowed the minotaur people to gain such a strong foothold within a new country was their advanced and adaptable knowledge of agriculture and hydroponics. As such, they were given almost exclusive control over the western areas of Verdant proper, where the fertile grasslands and seasonal flooding make for optimal farming conditions. They have adapted quickly to the two planting seasons in Verdant, putting in place various methods for utilizing both the flooding and growing seasons to the advantage of their adopted people. Because of this, the House of Agriculture is nearly always dominated by a Minotaur head, giving them stability and high standing in Verdant’s political motions.

A majority of the cities thralls are placed under their control, as maintaining a stable harvest each year is vital to the city. It is far from the worst one could expect, as it seems to be in the nature of the minotaur people to treat anyone under their watch as a member of their ‘herd’. They are reliable defenders of their property and those under their charge, as few enemies are they bandit or wild beast wants to tangle with an enraged bull.

Alongside their agricultural endeavors, they are well known for their interest in ‘crafts’. Their houses are adorned with beautiful weaving and intricate patterns which are displayed on everything from their walls to their carpeting, their clothing, and their jewelry.

Family & Marriage

While the minotaur’s adhere to Verdant’s law regarding marriage, they keep their own traditions when it comes to extended relationships. A household is maintained as one bull and one cow in accordance with the laws regarding marriage, property, and children. However, it should be noted that one bull may, in fact, have several cows, all of whom are culturally considered to be their spouse. It is likely that Verdant is fully aware of what they are doing but simply chooses not to delve too deeply considering the status of the minotaurs.

Considering Verdant’s laws regarding property and ownership, it may be surprising to discover that while the bull is considered the head of the family and household, it is the cow who owns the house, the land, and the business. Young cows are encouraged to try for Citizenship as soon as possible, as it will provide them with a proper standing within Verdant and make them a more likely prospect in marriage.

Marriages are encouraged by the families, but not arranged in the technical sense. Cows and bulls are encouraged to be flirtatious and to seek out stable relationships. While it is of no great note if two cows are interested in the same bull, every year there is a sporting event held where bulls fight one another to win the right to court a specific cow that has garnered their affection. It is generally a friendly competition, though grudges are not unknown. And all that is won is the right to speak to the cow unimpeded by another bull’s interference.

Given the large amount of work to be done in the farmland areas, cows will usually trade calf sitting duties with one another. This is made easier considering the multiple cows in a single family unit. Older children are already working, as there is always something that needs to be done in a rural home.

Poe and Jax | Imps / Fiends

Poe and Jax | Imps / Fiends

Basic Info

Main Character Name

Poe and Jax


Imps / Fiends

Found in Chapter…

Chapter three

Storyline Includes:

  • Orgy
  • Orgasm denial
  • Sadism / masochism
  • Dubious Consent

More to the story…

Demons, like so many other societies, have a structural hierarchy. While it would take far too long to discuss the specifics of such a vast group of creatures, it is safe to say that imps, otherwise known as fiends, as at the bottom of the ladder. Just barely above the damned.

Also known as fiends, imps are among what could be considered the less malicious of Hell’s creatures. They have very little power individually and thus rely on causing mishaps and annoyances which provoke people to act irrationally. One might consider them to be the traditional devil on your shoulder, whispering naughty things in your ear.

By why? And to what advantage?

Imps are not unrelated to the succubus, who feeds of sexual energy and desire. The difference being that they can feast off ANY emotional impulse or outpouring. Anger, love, sorrow, ennui, anxiety. They provoke these things in humans, allowing them and their brethren to feed. Some have even suggested that imps are the very troubles once released from Pandora’s Box.

However troublesome they may be, imps can prove faithful and diligent helpers to those who have the means to control them. Like familiars, they can sometimes bond with witches, giving the magically inclined a troop by which to make her will happen. There are some notes which suggest that the trouble which occurred in Salem was in fact incited by fiends, which were used by true witches to whisper in the ears of the young women and the town’s council and divert their attention onto innocents.

If one seeks to control an imp, they must be willing in enact disciplinary means upon them when they behave poorly, which is often. Most useful is a birch rod, which can be used to strike their backside and bring them into submission. A few good smacks with a bundle of these will ensure they continue to remember who they owe their loyalty to, and if one has multiple fiends, it will bring the others in line.

Fiends are often short and occasionally confused for goblins because of this. However, it should be noted that it is an insult to say so. As imps are both much more aesthetically pleasing, by FAR cleaner, and can have a much more pleasing disposition if they decide they like you.

The Sandbox by Queen of all Nerds

The Sandbox by Queen of all Nerds

The Sandbox

An Abhzhur and reader cuddle fanfiction

by Queen of all Nerds

“Are you alright? You seem…grumpier, than the last time I was here.” You ask once you catch your breath again, limbs pleasantly numb and resting heavily on the hammock, cuddling with Abhzhur.

The tip of his tail flicks back and forth as he clearly debates answering you. Eventually he sighs, “I do not like the cold. As you know, I was born in the deep lush jungles. It does not get cold there. Besides, it dries out my scales.”

You manage to lift your head up to raise your eyebrow at him. “You’re cold and itchy? That’s why you seem grumpy?”

“Would that not make you grumpy?” He flicks your cheek with his tongue.

“Fair enough.” You lay your head back down, content to let him trace the pattern his scales left on your skin, smug as usual despite his discomfort. “Is the greenhouse not warm enough? Or humid enough?”

“The Madame has done her best, but unfortunately during the winter it can’t quite manage to keep out the chill.”

“So, you just suffer all winter long?” You can’t keep the concerned disapproval from your voice.

Abhzhur snickers, shaking the hammock and you. “Not quite.” He gently lowers you and himself to the gravel. “Come along.”

You follow him deeper into greenhouse, farther in than you have previously gone. Normally, you barely get two steps beyond the door before Abhzhur scoops you up. You walk past all sorts of strange plants (well, strange to you) before Abhzhur stops.

He gestures at the pit in front of him. “I use this during the winter.”

You blink. “It’s…a giant sandbox?”

Abhzhur snickers again. “It’s a hot sand bath!”

“Oh!” You feel your face flame. “But, uh, how does that help?”

“I can curl up in there whenever the cold becomes too much.” At your still somewhat bemused expression, he settles into the sand to demonstrate, making it look quite cozy. You’re rather envious – Abhzhur notices and extends a hand out to you. “Want to join me?”

Just as you start to nod, another thought occurs to you. “Wait, didn’t you mention something about the cold drying out your scales? How do you deal with that?”

“I have special lotion for my scales. It can sometimes be difficult for me to apply evenly, however.”

“Would you like help with that?” Seeing a dumbfounded look appear on his face, you quickly backpedal. “I – I know we’re not dating or anything, I just thought you might need help…not that you need any help, obviously you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself –”

Your rambling cuts off as Abhzhur smiles. “You would be willing to do that?”

“Well, yeah.” You shift awkwardly as he glides out of the sand and out of view, fetching the lotion. Abhzhur lay down on top of the sand, holding out the lotion for you to grab. “Do I…how do I do this?”

“Much like how you would apply lotion to yourself, I imagine. Start at my tail, apply an even coat, and massage it in.”

Nodding, you squeeze out a generous amount of lotion. It smells sort of spicy – what kind of spice, you’re not sure, but you like it.

You slowly massage Abhzhur, drawing quiet hisses of pleasure from him. It’s rather relaxing for both of you – by the time you reach his shoulders, the two of you are nearly dozing. Abhzhur nestles back into the sand and pulls you down with him, cocooning around you as much as the heat from the sand.

“Can you stay for a bit longer?” he mumbles into your hair. You nod against him. “Good. I think you need to be…rewarded, for helping me in such a manner.” You shudder with anticipation, eager to wake up even as you drift off to sleep, feeling Abhzhur tighten around you and nuzzle the top of your head.


Queen of all Nerds

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Abhzhur and Reader

DoloMedes by Nightzilla33333

DoloMedes by Nightzilla33333


A Rasaghi and Shelby fanfiction

by Nightzilla333

His sisters’ cackling followed him as he swam as far away from them as possible without leaving the lake. The sun was high in the summer sky, warming the beach and the shallower water.

Shelby avoided the area where he met those unpleasant humans. He blew bubbles into the water as he moved, creating a trail that floated along behind him. When he couldn’t hear his sisters anymore he knew he was there. At his beach.

The shore was sandy and soft. The warm sand felt nice against his belly as he pulled himself up the shore, but not too far up that he wasn’t in the water. Technically, he knew he shouldn’t beach himself. His sisters loved to tell him horror stories about how merfolk have been killed and eaten because they were caught out of water. Just because they have fish tails didn’t mean that they could be used to make extra big sushi, stupid humans! But he was safe…enough. Monsters and people rarely came down to the lake.

And it wasn’t like he’s entirely defenceless.

His hips squirmed into the sand, creating a small indent that water immediately rushed into. It flowed in and out with the lapping of the waves. Slowly, Shelby started to push the sand into a mound. Then, with careful hands, he started to mold it. It took the shape of a castle quickly enough. He’s done this for a while now, and knows exactly what kind of sand is needed for his castle to hold its shape.

A small shell is used to mark a door. Twigs and leaves sat at the top of battlements. More twigs, carefully bent and woven together, created the drawbridge and the gate. Small stones were gently pushed into the walls of the keep for a more interesting texture. Broken shells of the same colour formed a pathway, and the shiny underside of more broken shells made the windows. A single dandelion was pushed into the highest tower to complete the look.

With a pleased giggle he smashed the creation. When you have lived in the same lake for thirty-three years you must find something to pass the time. Guinevere reads, he makes sandcastles. He’s made sandcastles for as long as he can remember. All of them hoard a tiny-bit. Not dragon-level hoarding, but still.

“Suchhhh a waste.”

Shelby startled and turned to jump into the lake without bothering to find the owner of the voice. If he had, he would have noticed the Arachnimorph with a silk rope in their hands. As it was, the silk wrapped around Shelby’s tail as he was in mid-leap, twisting around the strong trunk and delicate fins.

Shelby yelped as his body hit the ground. He clawed desperately at the sand as he was dragged back, trying to find purchase. There was none to be found, and the sand quickly turned to dirt, which turned to air as he was hoisted up. The silk was wrapped around a sturdy branch of a tree. A panicked hiss ripped from his throat as he twisted, trying to grab at the silk and untangle it.

The silk loosened slightly, dropping him somewhat, before it immediately tightened once more. It jerked against one of his fins. Shelby cried out, hands freezing and immediately going limp. Small bubbling whimpers left him, but it was useless. There was no way his sisters could hear him, and even if they could, what could they do? He was out of water. Too far out of water. Hung and ready to be gutted. A small trickle of blood started to make way down his side, a cruel mockery of his pink stripes.

Shelby hit the forest floor, the silk gathering in a loose pile on top of him. There was a confusing cacophony, almost like someone was screeching.

Shelby dragged himself back to the lake, wiggling and digging his claws in. He didn’t stop until he was safely in the lake. It was weird to swim with his tail wrapped up. When he was sure he was safe (not too close to his sisters, but not too close to the shore either) he settled deep in the lake. With careful claws he cut at the silk around the trunk of his tail. It was hard. The silk didn’t really want to break. Which… spider silk. Considering that this came from an Arachnimorph it wasn’t surprising it was so strong.

It took awhile to cut the thread away, and even longer to unwrap from the fins. Shelby sighed, bubbles leaving his mouth and floating up. He wasn’t sure how long it took to free himself, but when he was done he buried the silk in the sand.


He told his sisters he cut himself on a rock. They threw salve at him, screeching at him to be more careful. The salve was from Asahi. They’d probably need more soon.

He avoided going to his sandy beach for nearly a week, too scared to go close to it. What if the monster was back? What if he got hurt again? What if the monster tried to eat him again? He wasn’t sure why the monster would want to eat him, or how it would even eat him.

Unfortunately, not going back to his beach made the lake very boring. If he hung around his sisters too often, then they start to nag at him about spawning again. Just because he had had his first clutch of eggs didn’t mean anything.

Sure, there were other beaches, but it wasn’t the same. That was his beach.

Currently, Shelby was bored out of his mind, floating face down in the water and blowing bubbles. Fish swam by, nibbling at his hands and scales before darting away. The forest felt odd today. The sun was high in the sky, but the birds weren’t singing. There wasn’t a breeze. Even the air felt charged.

And there was music. A sad tune wafted through the air.


Shelby flicked his tail and he was upright. His black eyes narrowed. The music seemed to be coming from his beach, and of course it was coming from his beach. He dove under the water, his dorsal fin cutting a thin line. Anything smart would know he was a predator, even if he didn’t act like it. He made it in record time, although it wasn’t like the lake was huge.

He peeked over the water, wide eyes sweeping the area. Then he squeaked and ducked back down. It was definitely the Arachnimorph. They held a cello in their front paws, and it was obvious that they were the source of the music.

Shelby squinted and slowly floated back to the top. Only his eyes cleared the water, but the music stopped all the same. “Hhhhello!” It was the same chittering voice from before.

Shelby debated swimming away, but ultimately decided to shout, “What do you want?”

“Rrrrasaghhhhi wants to say sorrrrrry. Rrrrasaghhhhi didn’t mean to hurrrt you!”

“Well, you said it. Go away!” Shelby moved, ready to dive back under.

“No wait! Rrrrrasaghhhhi hhhas a gift forrr you!”

Shelby stopped. His wide eyes studied the other monster. They were still holding the cello, but there was a bag slung over their shoulders. “Why don’t you come over here and give it to me then?”

The Arachnimorph shuffled awkwardly. “Rrrrasaghhhhi can’t swim.”

Shelby huffed, crossing his arms under the water. “How do I know this isn’t some trick? How do I know that you won’t hurt me?”

“Rrrrrasaghhhhi didn’t mean to hhhurrrrrt you!”

“Well, you did! You scared me! I thought you were going to eat me!”

The Arachnimorph gasped, rearing back on his legs. “Rrrrrrrasaghhhhhhi would neverrrrrr!”

Honestly, the look on the Arachnimorph’s face was hilarious. Even with the many eyes and the fangs, they still managed to emulate the look of an aghast southern belle (the kind on Guinevere’s trashy romance novels from Asahi).

Shelby was moved closer, but not too close, so that the Arachnimorph still wouldn’t be able to pull him out of the water. Close enough to no longer have to yell, but still in his domain in case he was attacked. “You said you had a gift for me.”

“Yes!” The Arachnimorph gently placed the cello in the case that laid on the stone he stood on. “Rrrrasaghhhi hhhhas a gift.”

“What kind of gift?”

The Arachnimorph chittered, and Shelby tilted his head. Apparently, chittering has a different meaning to Arachnimorphs than it does to merfolk. Merfolk only chitter when they’re embarrassed, but Shelby didn’t think the Arachnimorph was embarrassed. The other monster opened the bag. “Rrrrasaghhhhi brrrroughhhht thhhis!” With a flourish he pulled out a violin.

It was beautiful and delicate, made of wood, and it dimly shone. Shelby gasped, wide eyes going even wider. “That’s for me?”

“Yes! Take it! Rrrrasaghhhi made it special forrr you.”

Shelby swam closer with gentle flicks of his tail. “Water won’t hurt it?”

“No!” The Arachnimorph seemed to puff up with pride. “Rrrrrasaghhhhi made it special forrr you. Safe forrrr waterrrrr. Won’t be damaged.”

Shelby made an excited sound and stretched out his hands. The Arachnimorph placed the violin gently into Shelby’s hands; as soon as it was in his hands he clutched it to his chest and dove back under the water.

He resurfaced moments later. “Thank you!”

And then he was gone again.


There was a storm that night. He and his sisters sat at the deepest part of the lake, tails tucked into the sand. The water was choppy above them, the fish were hiding, but they were safe.


The beach was covered in sticks and twigs and other various debris from the forest. It took a while to clear off an area. It was a small area, but he now had a pile of forest debris, sand cleared for a castle, and the violin rested on the shore in its own soft bed of leaves. He didn’t tell his sisters where he got it, even though they poked at him with pointy claws, and refused to let it out of his sight. His sisters would lose interest in it soon enough, and then it would be added to his collection.

He wasn’t surprised when the Arachnimorph showed up again. Shelby was pretty sure that they returned the entire time he avoided the beach. They seemed pretty comfortable in the area.

“Hello.” Shelby said, already starting to pile sand up. Castle time!

The Arachnimorph chittered out a greeting, and wasn’t that weird? Chittering and speaking at the same time. From the corner of his eye Shelby watched as the Arachnimorph settled on a stone, folding their long legs underneath them. They sat in silence. The Arachnimorph didn’t seem to have anything with him, and Shelby was content to make as extravagant a castle as possible. It wasn’t often that he had enough material to craft a really fancy castle.

The sun was starting to set by the time Shelby finished. The Arachnimorph stood and stretched, and Shelby shited so that he was sitting. He pulled the violin back into his lap and stroked the strings. They were spider silk, which wasn’t surprising. It still brought a smile to his face though.

“I’m Shelby.” He finally said, looking over at the Arachnimorph.

“Rrrrrasaghhhhi.” The Arachnimorph approached Shelby in the sand.

“Wait…” Rasaghi immediately stopped all movement. “Your name is Rasaghi?”


Shelby chittered and Rasaghi tilted his head. With a heave, Shelby threw himself back into the lake. The water churned where he disappeared.


A few days passed with Shelby watching Rasaghi from his hiding spot in the reeds, embarrassed by his faux pas. Eventually, he got over himself and went back to his beach. Through the long summer days they became fast friends, Shelby building castles and Rasaghi playing various instruments. Some days they just sat quietly, enjoying each other’s company.


“Hi Rasaghi!”

Rasaghi smiled, fangs opening slightly. “Shhhelby!” They scuttled into the water, and, with no hesitation, scooped Shelby into their arms.

Shelby chittered, wrapping his arms around Rasaghi’s neck. His tail was still in the water, and Rasaghi had water coming up to his round abdomen. Rasaghi nuzzled into Shelby’s neck, the small furs tickling the skin and gills. Shelby giggled, arms tightening and pulling him further out of the water, dragging against the protective shell. Pressing against his sheath.
Shelby dropped his arms from around Rasaghi’s neck, chittering. But Rasaghi didn’t let go. They purred something into Shelby’s neck, causing his gills to flutter.

Shelby’s cock started to peek through his sheath, pale pink and narrow at the tip. “Uhm… Rasaghi?”

“Shhhelby?” Rasaghi breathes out and pulls away from his neck. “Is somethhhhing wrrrrrong?”

Shelby chittered and shifted, more of his cock squirming out. It pushed against the hard shell of Rasaghi’s stomach, seeking. They searched Shelby’s face, glanced down, and grinned widely.

“Shhhelby.” Rasaghi jostled their legs, pushing their stomach against Shelby. A moan tore from the merfolk’s throat, and his cock writhed. “Does Shhhhhelby want to play?”

“Umm.” Shelby didn’t know where to look; he refused to meet Rasaghi’s many eyes, but looking down drew attention to his cock. “Yes?”

“Shhhhhelby is surrrrrre?”

Shelby flicked his tail, which sprayed water into the air. He nodded.

Rasaghi chittered excitedly and moved to a shallower part of the lake. They lowered Shelby into the water, and Shelby moaned at the loss of contact. A sticky trail was left behind on Rasaghi’s stomach.

Rasaghi was hard. Or, whatever the equivalent to being hard to an Arachnimorph was. Their ovipositor wasn’t exactly transparent, but Shelby felt like he would be able to see something moving through it. Shelby moaned. He really wanted to see something move through it. It was a light lavender, with blue rings circling it.

Shelby whined and lined his cock up with Rasaghi, the tips barely touching. He huffed and patted them on the leg. “Can you lower yourself?”

Their giant legs bent and Rasaghi carefully laid down. Shelby was pushed into the water by the weight, gills fluttering and sand firm at his back. His cock wound around Rasaghi, and he let out a bubbly moan. If his sisters could hear him…

Shelby jerked, cock tightening. He really shouldn’t think of his sisters while he stroked Rasaghi. With his cock. But his reaction made Rasaghi moan, their hips shaking and making them thrust forward. Shelby could feel Rasaghi throb through his cock.

“Shhhhelby. Shhhhhelby, can Rrrrrasaghhhhi go in?”

Shelby bubbled out a reply, head tilting back. “Shhhhhelby?”

Shelby swallowed and lifted his head. “In?” He managed to get out in a language Rasaghi could understand.

“Yes. Rrrrrasaghhhhhi would like in.”

“In where?” Shelby looked up, but couldn’t see Rasaghi’s face.

“Inside. Inside. Yourrrr hhhhhhole?”

Shelby gasped, his cock tugging at Rasaghi. “I don’t know if I can get you in there.”

“Just thhhe tip?”

Shelby pressed his head against one of Rasaghi’s legs. He looked at the ovipositor he was stroking. It was big, but not Durion big (not that Durion walked around with his dick out). It wasn’t as big as the Minotaur he sometimes sees (not that the Minotaur walked around with his dick out either).


His cock twisted around Rasaghi, pulling and shifting until the head was placed at the opening beneath Shelby’s cock.

Shelby squealed when the head popped in, latching an arm onto Rasaghi’s leg. His cock tightened, and Rasaghi hissed. Both went still.

With deep breaths Shelby was able to slowly release his grip, both his cock and his arm. If there was room he was sure his cock would have tried to retreat.

The tip of his cock trailed against Rasaghi, and, soon enough, pleasure started to spark again.

There wasn’t any rocking; Rasaghi kept true to his word – it was just the tip that entered Shelby. Shelby kept his cock twisting and squeezing around Rasaghi, and the stretch was starting to become pleasurable.

The gasping moans of the two echoed through the area, and it was probably a good thing that this forest was behind a brothel. And that monsters in general were often kind of horny. It basically meant that no one bothered to investigate the noises.

A boiling sensation worked through Shelby’s hips, building steadily. He felt a weird bump at the base of Rasaghi’s cock, and he gently prodded at it with the narrow tip.

Rasaghi shuddered, their ovipositor twitching inside Shelby. The bump moved further down, another appearing right behind it. Shelby glanced down and moaned. It was eggs, dark and round inside Rasaghi’s ovipositor. Shelby teased the eggs, twisting so that the orbs were outlined by his cock.

Liquid gushed into Shelby, warm and slightly thick. Shelby tossed his head back, hips jerking up and driving Rasaghi deeper. The liquid frothed out and his cock loosened its hold around the eggs.

The first egg slid down fast and pushed Shelby’s hole even wider. The stretch made the pleasant burn finally crest, and Shelby’s orgasm hit hard as the egg slid into his body. Sparks danced behind his eyes, and his cock pulsed as he came.

Rasaghi popped out of Shelby, resting just at his entrance. The second egg ground against the first, partially in Shelby and partially in Rasaghi. When the tingles stopped, Shelby slowly lifted his head and gently pushed Rasaghi away from his sheath. The second egg slipped out into the water and slowly floated away.

Rasaghi laid his full weight gently onto Shelby, their ovipositor drawing back into their body. Shelby wrapped his arms around Rasaghi as well as he could. The sand was sturdy at his back, Rasaghi warm at his front, and he felt full.

Shelby wasn’t sure how long they laid there, but Rasaghi finally stood when the water started to cool. The sun was still in the sky, but Shelby knew this feeling.

“I hate summer storms.” Shelby said, floating to the surface. His cock retracted slightly and forced more liquid out of his hole. He shuddered as the egg shifted forward. The rest of his cock draped over his sheath, almost protective. It kept the egg in place, at least.

“Rrrrasaghhhi shhhould be going beforrrre thhhe storrrrm comes.”

Shelby nodded. His body felt comfortably numb. Orgasms were nice. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yes! Goodbye Shhhhelby!”

Shelby didn’t stay long enough to watch Rasaghi leave, instead diving deep into the lake. He smiled. Another treasure from Rasaghi. The egg might not hatch, but it would look just as pretty beside the violin.



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Rasaghi and Shelby