A Lesser Race

The man soon stopped kissing her, because he was more enamored with her cunt than her lips, and he settled for resting his forehead against hers and listening to her bestial grunts; which she in turn sang out every time he thrust her. His cock filled her completely, and her cunt watered like the mouth of a starving beast, and it clenched down hard on him to keep him trapped within her, and it made soft, wet squelching noises as he worked it ruthlessly.

When she came, she closed her shivering legs against him and her pussy closed up so hard that she could feel his cock against her trembling walls. She groaned, an animal noise, and as he continued to work her orgasming cunt a wave of perverse pleasure emanated from her crotch to every inch of her body. It washed over her mind, clearing it and warming it and exciting neurons that had not fired in many years, and her eyes rolled back and she saw vivid colors in a mosaic of what must have been God's misshapen, disfigured face.

And though she basked in the rush of pleasure, it was in no way holy or passionate, or even depraved or sacrilegious. Had it been any of those things, she may have felt less guilt, for each were weaknesses which afflicted her subhuman race. No, their corporeal communion was as basic and primitive as a bear snapping a buck's neck. They fucked out of necessity, because they were both young, and neither was particularly unattractive, and both had gone far longer than anyone their age might normally go without touching someone else.

That was the whole truth of the matter.

When he was done with her, he spent himself inside of her. With his powerful embrace, he held her still and growled as he emptied himself deep within her trembling, warm, clenching loins. It must have been particularly intense, because he did this for a long time, and when he was done he lay against her barely awake. She waited beneath him, breathing hard and coming down from her post-orgasm high. She waited until the wind blew so much that her cheeks hurt, and she waited until she felt his seed dribbling down her ass to the ground, and she waited until it was hard to take deep breaths with him pressed atop her.

"I want to sleep now," she said, quietly.

The mercenary opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. Dull eyes. No life there, no poetry in the network of synapses that formed his basic mind. Only instinct. He put his face in her neck again and started with small, nibbling bites, and she could do nothing but squeal in a tiny voice, childlike and restrained.

Then she felt his cock stiffen again, inside her. It was a peculiar, shockingly intimate moment that she would never forget. Terribly aroused, she bit her lip and stared in his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers once more, and she wrapped her legs around him, and they continued where they left off. He was clutching her so tight in his arms that she felt his taught biceps against her sides, and she could feel his abs against her soft stomach, and his thick fingers dug into her back. Completely at his mercy, she climaxed very quickly under his barrage of angry thrusts. The area was loud with her angry-sounding grunts, and the sound of their flesh colliding again and again.

He tore this orgasm from her, made her suffer through it with eyes rolling back and toes curling and ankles crossing tight against his back and fists balling up and her pussy clenching down on him hard, as if to stop him. This time they came together, and as he pumped her full of his seed she saw more colors, more strange imagery, more conjured visions of her dear creator.

In the end, he rolled off of her, his energy completely sapped. She wasn't half done, and she had the strongest urge to mount him and finish the job, pressing her lips to his and sucking away his life force until he was an empty corpse resting forever among the leaves. She could have used him up entirely, a vampire of souls rather than blood, and she could have taken the horse and rode back into town and sought out a man who might entice her desires much less.

But she didn't.

She covered herself up again, and she rose and found her panties and after much hesitation pulled them back on, like a man in a desert who knows he must close up his canteen despite wanting desperately to drink up all his water right there. She found his bedding in that sea of leaves, and she took the cloths and shook them clean, and then she covered him up and slept beside him until morning.

When she woke, he was already up. He stood over her, rolling up his bedding, adorned in his dyed armor and with his sword about his waist and his heroic cloak draped over his shoulders. He looked down at her, showing no proof in his face that he remembered anything of the night before.

"When you're ready," he said, and then he went to the horse where it lay and got it up, and he took it through the trees to a nearby pool of water where he let it drink. She gathered her things and was standing by the road when he came back for her. Together, they galloped the whole day through, until they were out of the dense forestry.

The trees opened up to the plains, where the sky was gray-blue, and the grass was a saturated hue of green, the concentrated color of man's avarice. There were horses and other livestock grazing amiably, and there were gargantuan birds soaring above, with wingspans of tens of feet, flying at the very height of the sky, where it must be possible to reach up and touch with your fingertips the heavens themselves, where God walks.

Was he looking down from the clouds then? Was he regretting her existence? She put her arms around her protector and rested a chin on his shoulder and wished for all the world that they were fucking just then. Anything to quiet her mind.

They passed through a small hamlet, which served as a terminal for the city that dwelt below. Portoboro had once been a huge network of tunnels dug out by the ancients for the purposes of war, but in this modern age there was no practical use for it in that manner, so the nearby people built homes down there and made it into a bustling town. One could travel through its countless water-powered elevator shafts and twisting, turning tunnels for months at a time, but it was typically more trouble than it was worth to travel that way.

So they passed through, slowing to a trot and waving hello to the people above ground: The blind man who did not turn to look at them, but waved anyway, and the whores on the corners with dust on their cheeks and barely anything to wear, and the drunkards on the other corners with their bottlefulls of a black liquid likely bad enough to rip up your insides.

The people watched them go wistfully, perhaps fantasizing about some romance between these two travelers that simply did not exist. She wondered what it must look like to them, to see a dark girl with strange eyes holding tight to a pale man with a shabby but gruesome-looking sword. Did the people watch their progress, even as they drifted away? Did they care enough to see off these pilgrims, and to study their grim figures as they melted into black dots on the horizon, indistinguishable from the myriad wildlife struggling across these vacant planes?

They reached a fork in the road when the sun was halfway through the sky. One path went up, cutting a way through a range of hills, and one descended into a valley where many other roads met. He preferred the higher road, so they went that way and crested a hill and looked out over that interminable expanse of land with no less wonder or apprehension than had the first ever man and woman to do so.

Here, he stopped the horse and dismounted.

"Down," he ordered her.

"Is something wrong?"

He took her hand without answering, and helped her down. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her.

"What is it?"

He put his arms around her and pulled her to him, and he pushed his lips against hers and exhaled a warm breath into her mouth. She relaxed, becoming doll-like in his arms, and letting him take from her what he needed.

"I smell you again," he muttered, lips barely apart from hers. "I always fucking smell you."

"Is this all you want?" she asked.

He paused and narrowed his eyes at her, apparently not sure whether she was flirting or simply asking.

She had no obvious expression on her face, and no definite tone in her voice one way or another. By the way he looked at her, she guessed that he must be wondering whether or not she was real. He put one arm around her lower back and cupped the other hand against the back of her head, and then he hesitated, apparently checking once more the truth of her existence. And then he kissed her again for a long time, and she stood there being used in the warm glow of a sun in perpetual freefall, orange and fat like a raw egg yolk.

After some time, he seemed satisfied with the kissing, but he told her that he wanted to taste her again. He started down on his knees, but she begged him to wait.

"I wish we could save that for the night, if you must do it."

In no way did she expect him to listen, but somehow her words had made sense to him. He nodded, rising to his full height again. Then he helped her up on the horse, and he climbed aboard himself, and they went trotting toward the sunset, squinting and looking around, no less crude or raw or artless than the landscape about them.

Their travels ended in an abandoned village. The sun was blinking away behind the curvature of the earth, and the sky above was an apocalyptic swirl of black and blue and orange. The clouds themselves seemed full of evil they were so dark; worse than that, they were formless and elongated, ugly as pure sin.

And these two travelers went without word through the naked streets of this premature ruin, peering into boarded up stores and through doorless entryways into households stripped bare. They kept going until some nameless sixth sense seized them in place and told them that the small hut before them was their home, and then they stopped the horse and tied its rein to the doorknob and went inside. The front room was bare, and the kitchen in the back was a tragic scene with a shattered window and an austere oven robbed of its door and even its coals. Other than that, they found an office room that had nothing but a handmade desk.

She stood over this thing, pressing her hands to it and leaning and envisioning what it must have been like to be here in earlier generations. Was it as beautiful as she assumed? Or was this place as cold as all others? She smoothed her fingertips against the desk's wooden surface, which was ringed as if it had been cut from a thousand-year-old tree. An artifact made of an artifact.

His hands cupped her breasts.

He had taken her from behind, and now he was kissing her ear. But again, to remind her that there was no love in any of it, he sucked hard on her earlobe as if it were coated in sugar, and he bit it so terribly that her eyes stung and she had to shut them to keep back tears.

Yet she wanted even more.

He pushed her down against the desk and lifted her dress, and then he very impatiently pulled her panties around her knees. For her part, she pressed her face into the desk and accepted that she wanted this worse than he did, no matter how self-righteous she felt.

After some time fumbling with his pants, he pressed the warm, spongey head of his cock against her. He was parting her ass cheeks and pushing it against a hole she had not expected. But she hungered deeply for him to do it, and she had to bite her lip to keep from speaking words of encouragement. It may not have even mattered.

With great effort, for she was dry and very tight and clenching down the whole while, he forced himself inside of her, making a point to continue until he was balls-deep, pressing his sweaty pelvis against her ass. Her eyes rolled back and she clenched and released over and over, and he was so enamored with this sensation that he lay against her and unloaded a hot burst of semen in her ass before a single thrust, grunting as she moaned like a common slut.

When he regained his composure he got back up and planted his palm against the back of her head, keeping her face smushed against the desk. With his other hand he pressed down on the small of her back, forcing her to arch it. And then, keeping her in this uncomfortable position, he very slowly fucked her ass, being thorough about his work, so that she felt nearly his entire length working her again and again.

It was slow and very painful, and it burned inside her ass, and she felt like he was splitting her apart. Yet she fucking loved every second of it. Her legs trembled to the point of it almost looking intentional, and her ass continued to clench and release, which the mercenary was already adept at withstanding. He fucked her like this for a long time, grunting and fighting it when he seemed to be nearing orgasm, the way a man does when he's trying to push a little further at the end of a workout. When it was finally time, he pulled out suddenly and rammed his immense cock into her pussy, and he spurt inside her, and she was so surprised and turned on by this that she came unreasonably hard and lifted her feet off the floor and shook, her whole body jerking with the force of it, and her pussy gripped him tight, forcing him to moan and fall against her.

Normally, no man could continue with so much intensity without at least taking a short break, but this man was not engaging with a normal woman. He did not see it, but her eyes were aglow, and she was already enchanting him. Her scent grew stronger, and her body was warmer. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed heavily with a chin resting on her shoulder, and against his better judgment he began thrusting her again, and when he climaxed this time his cock was buried deep within a pussy that was unnaturally warm and quivering enough to feel like it was vibrating. He did not moan so much as he whined when he came, finishing up inside her and finding no energy to remove himself from her.

That night he woke in the darkness, confused about where he was. Then he saw her lying there in her bedding, on the floor beside him. He rolled on top of her and woke her with his strong, lusty scent and drunken kisses. She watched him with those kitten eyes, but he was too tired to do anything about his wanton desires. He eventually fell asleep atop her, and she didn't mind.

Their travels continued this way, with impromptu sex in the dark and sometimes in the light. Rather than drawing them closer, their despicable behavior drove them further apart. They communicated less and less with actual words, using mere eye contact and gestures like foreign tribesmen. Every day he needed to stop and remind her that he smelled her, and he never did it with words of any kind. In the bushes, or behind a tree, or right there in the road, he devoured her sweet, inhuman flesh. Sometimes she wanted him to keep going, and he could tell by the look in her eyes and the way her hands traced his figure, and much to her chagrin he exploited this, fucking her mindlessly in the dirt.

People passed by on horseback, perhaps glancing into the brush in wonder at what appeared to be two people fighting to the death, but they never cared enough to stop.

Sometimes they surprised each other.

One day, they stopped by a lake and he sat her down on the ground and did away with her panties and sucked on her pussy so well and for so long that she couldn't count the orgasms anymore after a while. She tried to scoot away, but he hooked his arms around her legs and worked his tongue faster and harder, and she was rendered immobile by the full-body orgasm that followed. Afterward, she was so sensitive that she could only ride the horse a few minutes before she asked him to stop. They sat together, barely acknowledging each other, until he got bored and pinned her down and fucked her. So they decided to just make camp.

Another incident involved him fucking her ass late in the night They were in a bed of flowers, and he was laying his full body against her, driving the entirety of his length down into her ass. She made an effort not to clench down or shake too hard or do anything that might overstimulate him, and he rewarded her with a deep, lengthy fucking that sent chills up her spine until eventually she came from no stimulation but him fucking her ass. She clenched so hard and curled up beneath him so suddenly that he was taken by surprise, and came in her ass, still fucking her the whole time.

Finally they saw their destination in the distance.

Costella was not a collection of buildings, but one single megastructure that was above ground and underground at once. It was a giant, snaking loop of obsidian, stone and glass that rose up from the earth, arced, went back into the ground, and then emerged elsewhere, arcing again before curving back into the ground. Some of the arcs curved over and under one another, and some of the loops of obsidian and steel wrapped to form the shape of a helix, and the whole diameter of the thing was miles apart so that there were multiples levels, all built to accommodate the shifting, swaying architecture. There were homes outside of the loop, but most people lived with in, either above ground or underground, where orders of magnitude more of the loop existed, extending down for miles.

From far away it looked like an orgy of snake gods, black and deep blue and shining in the sun.

"A day's ride out," he said. "We'll be in tomorrow."

She nodded.

"Let's dismount."

"Right."

They made camp beside the main road, because so many people passed by that it was less dangerous than it would have been to move away.

As she sat, eating cold, cooked meat from a beast he had slaughtered not twenty-four-hours earlier, she wondered if by now she hadn't completely deviated from her mission. She was supposed to be saving her sister from exactly this kind of lifestyle, and yet here she was, roaming the kingdom with a stranger whose only worth to her was what he had between his legs. In truth, she tried to somehow care about him; she tried to find a reason to love him.

But she just couldn't. Aside from the one very obvious reason of course.

That meant that she might have already ruined herself with sin. It was possible, but not certain. Yet this man's fate was undoubtable. He had tempted her, had sinned against God by laying with a beast. No man has that right.

She looked up from her meal, and found him looking at her.

"You want me?" she asked.

He nodded.

"What will you do to me?"

"I dunno," he said. "Let's see."

She wrapped the meat up in the paper it had been stored in, and she shoved it in the little satchel they kept, and she scooted back onto her unfurled bedding and waited for him to give himself to her.

This time, when he went to embrace her, it was she who embraced him. She put her arms around him and bit his bottom lip and wrapped her legs around his waist. That excited him. He closed his hands tight against her ass and lay her down and pinned her with his weight.

They would fuck one final time, and she would finally give him what he seemed so desperately to want. She would bless him with an experience only possible when man lies with succubus.

She rolled atop him and cupped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him so passionately and so repetitively that they were out of breath, and air was coming heavily out of his nose, and when he drew it in he was intoxicated with her animal scent. She was straddling him, sitting so that her crotch was against his, and his big cock was crushed under her. She knew he could feel her abnormal warmth, the heat of a cunt that draws from a man not his seed but his very life. She basked in his helplessness, kissing the corners of his mouth and biting his chin and jawline and finally nipping at his neck.