A Servant of Arubhár 03

The woman yipped, then sucked in a few, sharp breaths. Then it whooshed out of her lungs, and her eyes flew open. The flared cockhead pressed against her womb began to grow, slowly but steadily. Her fingers clawed at the wood of the cart. She knew what was coming next.

Other trolls she'd allowed to rut before had exploded into flower quickly, then decreased. This species, she'd learned to her dismay, would keep swelling and swelling, stretching her wider and wider as the flower formed at a steady, yet incredibly slow pace. The male currently throbbing inside of her was no exception. She bit her lip to keep from screaming with discomfort as well as pleasure once his cockhead reached the size of what felt like a fist. And still, the head flared wider.

The thick shaft jerked and flexed inside of her, preparing to force out the troll's seed. Her feet beat a drumroll on the ground as she tried to relax, to keep breathing. Oh, the others had been bad, but this one was growing to near unbearable size.

The pressure on her inner pleasure spot sent a manic buzzing through her core. It spread throughout her entire body until she hovered, frozen at the height of pleasure, yet unable to crest. Surely, if he kept getting any bigger, she'd go mad with the need to release.

The first breathless squeals passed through her lips when his throbbing cock began to buck inside of her, rushing yet more blood into the flaring head. Each pulse, each bounce drove the shaft into her clit, forcing her pleasure to even greater extremes. And still, she couldn't crest. Knew she would stay at this overwhelming edge of release until he thrust again, or the pressure decreased.

Anári watched the woman struggle, watched as her hands flew back, trying to push the troll away. When he simply grabbed her wrists, held them firmly in place across her lower back, the woman's squeals rang out across the night.

Eyes wide, Anári ogled when she realized she could actually see the big bull's flaring cockhead lightly bulge out the woman's lower belly. And she wondered how the woman was handling it at all. It was obvious he wasn't the first troll of his kind to use her for his pleasure tonight. Judging by the amount of seed and pre-seed on the ground, this one must be at least her third.

Although the bull continued to stand still, he began to grunt once more. Quietly at first, then louder and louder. And, suddenly, his flanks thrust forward, stalled for a second or two while he roared and sprayed her insides with a shower of seed, then relaxed. A moment later, another powerful contraction of his loins repeated the process, nearly lifting the woman off the floor by his cock with his release.

Seed gushed out of her flooded tunnel in a steady stream when he surged forward one last time. Then, as suddenly as he had finally flowered, he yanked his cock free with a loud pop.

A river of fluid sprayed a pattern on the ground from his still fully flared head as he stepped away. Anári almost peaked herself at the sight of the enormous flower.

Restless, the troll paced back and forth, powerful flanks still quivering and tensing while he waited for the internal spasms, the immense pressure in the head of his cock to subside. It took a few minutes but, finally, the massive flower shrank back down. Not all the way, though, Anári noted as the shaft, bent down by the weight of the engorged head before, began to straighten.

Soon, the muscles in his ass contracted, causing his cock to smack against his stomach again. And she knew he was ready to continue the rutting.

Bending down, the troll grabbed the woman by the arm, pulled her to her feet from where she'd sunk to the floor in exhaustion.

"No more," she pleaded, shaking her head. "I can't handle any more tonight."

"So you've been claiming right from the start." The troll turned her around, pushed her upper body back down over the wagon. "Yet you keep changing your mind every time one of us offers you more coin. And you've handled the other three just fine." One massive hand placed between her shoulder blades, he held her in place, nudged her legs apart with his foot. "Don't worry girl, we'll be back through here in a month. So you won't have to worry about waiting too long to find more pleasure. I know it's not the rutting you fear, but the force of your release. And you've already crested with the last two bulls, and a moment ago with me. So the next one will hit you even harder."

Anári's brows winged up at his last remark. She hadn't thought it possible for the woman to be enjoying herself that much. Judging by the noises she'd made, one would think she was enduring torture. Certainly, the primal rut was straining at best, if not a good bit uncomfortable. But wasn't that the part that she, herself found so incredibly exciting?

When the woman threw him a look over her shoulder, he let out a snort. "You might think me a primitive brute, but I'm well aware what it looks and feels like when a woman reaches her peak. Now hold still. I paid good coin for you, and I shall have my pleasure."

His flanks were once again contracting erratically, slapping his cock against his rock-hard stomach to rush the blood back into his flaring head. It didn't take as long this time to leave the cockhead swollen, quivering, ready for him to mount.

Grunting harshly and deeply, he shoved his hips forward, sliding the hot, jerking shaft over her buttocks, between her thighs, before he hit his target. With a brutal lunge, he thrust the massive cock into the woman once more, pausing only briefly before he started rutting her with deep, hard strokes.

Anári heard her yelps, her pained moans, and wondered if the troll hadn't been mistaking. But the expression on the woman's face, the slight arch of her hips as she received every punishing thrust, told a different story.

A moment later, the troll's hips lunged forward, sheathing his cock to the hilt inside of the woman, then stilled. Every muscle in his powerful body tightened, tensed. The woman moaned, yipped, sucked in a few sharp breaths. And Anári knew the flaring head was steadily swelling once more.

It took even longer than last time before it finally flowered, keeping the woman stretched wide open around the pulsing, bucking shaft. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she let out a keening wail. Just as the bull drew back, then shoved back into her at full flower, her whole body stiffened, then began to shake. When he lunged again, sprayed her insides with his seed, she exploded.

Jerking, convulsing, her release crashed over her. Her scream of pleasure echoed through the camp. His next thrust brought her feet off the ground, and sent her body into yet more spasms. Before she had a chance to recover from cresting her peak, he ripped his flowering head back out of her overly sensitive tunnel. Leaving her empty, quivering, vibrating with little shocks of pleasure that continued to spark through her core.

Her bones felt as if they had liquefied with the force of her release, and she could only lie there, draped over the cart, languid and sleepy. And sated. More than sated: Utterly pleased. But she knew he wasn't finished yet, so she briefly closed her eyes, rested her head on the rough wood. And waited for him to remount.

Like earlier, the massively flowering head kept gushing a steady stream of seed all over the ground as the troll paced back and forth behind the woman. His flanks contracted constantly, trying to rush more blood into the head that hadn't even shrunk down from full flower yet. As soon as the huge flaring crown around the tip retreated, the troll began to grunt.

Driven by instinct that drove him to mate, and made him more determined and aggressive as the breeding progressed, he mounted the woman now and then, stabbing forward with his cock. Unable to penetrate her with the head still too heavy to be lifted by his hard shaft, he'd retreat, keep stalking around the woman.

Finally, with the cockhead still almost the size of a fist, his steadily flexing flanks managed to lift the shaft just high enough. And, with a violet lunge, he sheathed his exotic cock to the hilt inside the woman's soaking wet tunnel. And forced her body to release again.

He mounted her two more times that night before he was finally spent. To Anári's surprise, the woman dropped to her knees to clean him up once he was done. It looked almost as if she was worshipping him as she lavished his head and shaft with slow, long licks and little kisses.

Drained of every last drop by the woman's mouth, the majestic cock quickly shrunk down, retreated into its sheath. And the troll pulled his loin flap back in place, and walked off.

Curious what would happen next, since there was one more troll waiting in line, Anári lingered a little longer. Her own thighs were bathed in moisture by now, the throbbing between her legs near unbearable. She'd stay just long enough to find out if the woman would allow one more bull to rut, then head back to her wagon to see to her own body's needs.

When the woman rolled onto her back, she thought for sure that she'd had enough. But, to her amazement, there was an almost predatory gleam in the woman's eyes as she beckoned the troll to step up. Slowly, teasingly, she spread her legs, leaving no doubt about her invitation.

When the troll stepped between them, Anári heard the telltale sound of his cock smacking against his belly. It took a few minutes, his low, guttural grunts sending shivers down Anári's spine. Then, just as suddenly as the bull before him, his hips shoved forward, forcing the shaft over the woman's belly a few times before he readjusted his angle. The woman's squeal was one of pure pleasure when he found her entrance, thrust his thick, pulsing shaft deep inside of her.

Anári turned her back on the scene when he began the rutting. If she didn't leave now, she'd crest right here. Hurrying between the carts, she made her way back to her own wagon. Eager to get to her bed, and her own release.