A Servant of Arubhár 04

Laughing, Anári watched the huge male pause mid-stride, then his finger lifted, followed the path of a moth.

"What did I tell you." Dara was chortling herself.

Someone hailed her, and Dara rose to talk to the troll. Emboldened by the conversation, Anári risked a look around. Despite her claims to prefer seeking favors from the soldiers, the woman who had travelled with the caravan was once again on her knees, servicing one troll after another with her mouth. It seemed she was in no hurry to leave their company behind and start her new life here in Lorwind.

Around the nearest fires, Anári saw five more women taking breaks from being rutted by sucking various cocks instead. Even at the fire where she sat, two heads were busily bobbing up and down between troll legs, throats bulging and swallowing around meaty shafts. More than tempted, Anári wondered what would happen if she joined them.

Behind the fires on her left, blankets and pillows formed an enormous bed on the floor. On their knees, women were being mounted by various bulls, the next male taking the place of the previous one as soon as he was done. Some women were even spit-roasted between two trolls, servicing one with her mouth, the other with her tight, wet tunnel. Everywhere Anári looked, the bed of wagons had been cushioned to provide comfort to the women bent over or lying back on them. There also, new bulls stepped between their legs as soon as the one before had finished.

Watching one troll rut a woman had been exciting enough. But the thought of servicing one after the other, of different breeds at that, had Anári's whole body buzzing with arousal. She could only imagine how it would feel to have all those different exotic cocks stretching her without mercy, without pause. Her own tunnel tightened and quivered in response, and her clit began to throb.

When Dara threw her an apologetic look, Anári waved off her concern, decided to rise as well. She'd stretch her legs a bit before she'd head back to her wagon. Perhaps get a closer look at some of the action to learn more about the different bulls while she walked around. It would give her mind a whole new set of fantasies to refer to once she reached her own bed.

********* CHAPTER 9 *********

OH, MY, ANÁRI thought about half an hour later. She'd do well to get Dara's book as soon as she was able if she ever planned on living out some of her fantasies. Or stick to trolls she already knew. Dara had been right on the mark when she'd told her that some of those bulls just might surprise you. And most of the surprises wouldn't be of the pleasurable sort.

Had she thought one knot was amazing? Apparently, some bulls sported two, even three. Even single knots weren't restricted to only the base of a shaft.

She'd seen numerous ridges, all variations of grooves and bumps. Some shafts were rippling with multiple sets of muscles, others moved on their own. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, from no more than the width of a thick finger to shafts as thick as a large man's fist. There were short ones and others that reached almost two feet in length. Although, for the most part, they averaged the length of a human's.

It was a fascinating sight, not just the different cocks, but the different mating habits of each breed of troll. Even there, each one differed from the next. She couldn't claim a favorite out of the countless styles. They all left her breathless and eager to submit.

Rounding the next wagon, she came upon another fire. Three of them actually, all in a row. Trolls were hanging out on benches, drinking and carrying on conversations. More where chatting standing up, mugs of ale or glasses of liquor in their hands. Two of the whores were mingling, enjoying the wine and food set out for them. Another used her mouth on a troll standing by a water barrel. Bent over the back of carts, two more were being rutted.

"You are one of Dara's workers, aren't you?"

Startled, Anári jerked at the deep, rumbling voice behind her. "Yes," she answered the tall, stocky troll.

He pointed a hand toward the fire. "Make yourself at home. There's ale in those barrels over there, and stronger spirits in bottles next to them. Or the wine, if you'd prefer. Help yourself."

"Thank you." She lifted her cup. "But I have my tea."

Chortling, he inclined his head. "There's more of that also, if you insist. I couldn't stomach the brew this time of day. Please, have a seat. I promise you will not be bothered."

With that, he walked off to join the others at the fire. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to linger for a bit, Anári refilled her tea, plopped down on a bench nearest the rutting. From here, she had an excellent view of the show from the side, and she settled in to enjoy it.

"The trolls sent me to check if you'd be interested in our services."

Anári almost squeaked at the provocative sway of feminine hips a few inches in front of her face. What had she gotten herself into? "No, thanks," she managed to peep out, tried to arrange her face into a smile.

The woman leaned over her, slid her fingers over Anári's hair. "Are you sure? Being surrounded by these primitive brutes, I'm certain you could use a gentle touch."

There were boobs. Big, round boobs nearly squashing her nose. "I'm fine, really," she squawked in high pitched tones into the mountainous flesh. And was glad the woman couldn't see her expression. She didn't know whether to giggle hysterically or fling herself off the bench. A woman propositioning another woman. Now she'd seen it all. How would that even work? She was missing all the necessary equipment. Still, she would be lying if she claimed she wasn't a little bit flattered. "I appreciate the offer. I truly do. But I'm afraid I'm not inclined that way."

"I understand."

To Anári's great relief, both boobs and loins retreated, and she let out a breath that puffed out her cheeks.

"Let me know if you change your mind," the woman called over her shoulder as she wandered off, a sassy swing in her hips.

If this kept on, Anári'd be a witless drunkard before they entered troll lands. Eyeing the barrels of ale, she noticed a troll fling a coin to the woman, then raise his mug to Anári in a toast. Wishing her tea was spiked with liquor, she plastered on a smile, toasted him back. Then took a deep drink, turned her attention back to the rutting bulls.

Instantly, her body relaxed, and the tingling returned to her loins. The woman closest to her was making sounds as if she were in labor, delivering her child. It seemed an odd reaction, since the bull behind her wasn't moving his flanks. Squinting, Anári tried to get a closer look, figuring he was waiting for his body to be ready to mount.

Then he leaned back to take a good swig of the concoction in his glass. The woman sucked in a sharp breath, moved her hips to keep her butt cheeks pressed to his flanks. And he chuckled, gave her rump a friendly smack.

"Settle down, girl. We'll be here for a while."

Anári's moist tunnel contracted and clenched when she realized he wasn't waiting—he was securely tied to the woman. Her clit began to pulse and throb, and she rubbed her thighs together. Had the whore known about his knot? she wondered, wishing she could see the size of it. It was likely quite big, judging by the woman's squirming. She shifted from foot to foot, up on her toes, then back down, trying to ease the pressure, the stretch. Her hands fisted, then flattened, pushing her upper body up, then letting it settle back down. All the while she was puffing out air, as if it would lessen the discomfort.

Every now and then, the muscles in the troll's ass and lower back contracted, and he let out a few harsh grunts. Shortly after, despite his knot, seed rushed from the whore's hole to drip onto the ground. This bull didn't seem to release continuously, but rather time and again. His knot served to hold him in place until he was spent. It was yet another variety of mating style that had Anári thrumming with excitement.

When the bull turned at the waist to talk to a troll standing next to him, Anári heard the woman whimper. A moment later, he stepped back with one leg. Anári's eyes almost fell out of her head when she noticed the woman's unused slit. It appeared he'd aimed a little higher, and was taking his pleasure in her ass instead.

That would explain the woman's pained groans, Anári mused, and almost reached her own peak at the thought. She could vividly recall the feel of being claimed that way. Incredibly painful, it nevertheless brought on some of her most powerful releases. Her loins contracted, and she shifted in her seat. How would it feel to have a thick knot up her ass? To know she couldn't get away or escape the stretch, even if he was willing to let her?

Wiggling her butt on the bench, she imagined her tight rings held open that way, feeling the cock pump seed into her bowels. Imagined being forced to lie still and endure it. Heat flashed to a roaring fire in her loins. It would be the ultimate act of submission. As she pictured herself in the whore's place, tiny sparks of pleasure radiated from her clit, and her moist tunnel clenched in spasms.

The bull set down his glass when his flanks began to buck. Grabbed the woman's hips to hold her still. It was obvious he was nearing another release, and this one would be a big one. Grunting deep and gruff, he ignored the woman's yelps and whimpers, and tried to thrust his cock in and out of her ass.

Anári could see the woman's tight star bulging out, then collapsing inward with every move of his hips. But there was no way he could have freed himself to reach a full stroke. He was content, however, with the rocking friction of her tight rings over his rock-hard knot, and thrust harder and faster.

Finally, he shoved forward one last time, pushing as deep as he could go. His upper body collapsed on top of the woman, and his teeth sank into her neck. His loins contracted in forceful spasms as his seed flooded her bowels.

It was a mesmerizing sight that had Anári's heartbeat pounding in her chest. The bull, so disciplined, so still—short of his jerking flanks—as he emptied himself into the woman's ass. The mewls and whimpers of the whore as the thick knot pulsed inside her clenching rings.

His grunts and growls turned into a long, low moan that sounded almost painful near the end. And he jerked back as if trying to escape the stimulation. It soon became clear that he was finished, had enough. But his body wasn't ready to allow him to retreat just yet.

Over and over, he attempted to free his cock while the woman dug her nails into his legs—willing him to stay, to ride it out. Yet his oversensitive nerves kept firing, made him determined to free himself. Lower lip caught between her teeth, Anári let out a few moans of her own as she imagined the feel of that knot tugging at her tender rings.

About a minute later, the knot had decreased enough. And, with a plop Anári was sure could be heard at the other end of the fires, the knot came free. A torrent of seed rushed from the woman's tortured rosebud, mixed with the moisture on the ground. Rubbing her butt, the whore bounced from foot to foot, trying to ease the stinging.

Enthralled by the sight of the troll's cock, Anári paid no mind to her. Even now, his still fully flowering head continued to drip seed. But it wasn't the head that fascinated her, which wasn't that much larger than his human-sized shaft. A shaft that looked like it had hundreds of beads right under the skin, she noted. No, her gaze was fixed on the knot at the base of his cock. How he'd managed to get it out of the woman without tearing her up was beyond Anári.

Not only did it still extent at least two inches from the shaft on both sides—and she knew it had already shrunken down dramatically—its shape was rather unforgiving. It looked almost as if someone had stuffed an egg on each side, sideways, and made of steel. It was a rather effective locking mechanism, she surmised as another wave of pleasurable anticipation washed over her. Then she blew out a breath, decided she'd have to do some serious practicing first.

The same bead-looking protrusions that covered his head and shaft also lined his knot. Of a darker shade of blue than his cock and the rest of his body—and rather pronounced—they were clearly visible even from where she sat. She was certain they would stimulate one's sensitive walls tremendously.

Biting her lip, Anári tried to will away the demanding throbbing in her loins. But it only seemed to draw more attention to the area. She sipped her tea, tried to focus on other areas of the camp. Yet no matter where she looked, someone was doing something to stimulate her senses.

Next to her by the fire, a woman was kneeling, upper body bent over a bench, while a short, stout troll rutted her from behind. A few feet down, two women were busy sucking the foot-and-a-half long shaft of a massive bull. Across from her, another was lying on her back in a cart, her ankles wrapped around the beefy back of yet another troll.

Anári let her eyes travel back to the one she'd been watching. Saw him leaning against the barrels, refilling his drink from a bottle. His cockhead had shrunk back to its normal blunt size. But his knot continued to prevent his cock from retreating. She had a sudden urge to walk on over there and lap the seed from his dripping slit, since the woman he'd used made no effort to do so. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she imagined how he would taste.

Amused at her newfound boldness, Anári let her gaze travel to the troll he'd been talking to. Saw him step up to the woman, turn her around. He slid a hand over her rump, then pushed a finger up her ass. Sore, the woman tensed, sucked in a breath. But she didn't utter a protest.

"Still not as tight as I would like," the troll addressed his friend. "But it'll have to do."

Mesmerized, Anári watched him step out of his pants, nudge them aside with a foot. Resting her upper body on the cushions, the woman arched her back, stuck out her butt invitingly. Clear proof that she didn't mind the rutting anywhere near as much as her squirming had indicated.

His hand wrapped around his sheath, and roughly jerked it upward a few times. A moment later, the tip of his cock appeared, then its head was exposed. He never touched the shaft, kept yanking his hand harshly up his sheath instead. And, slowly but steadily, the rest of his cock emerged. Even after it stopped growing, at around six-and-a-half inches in length, he continued his rough handling of his sheath.

Until, to Anári's astonishment, the knot began to form. He paused his stimulation for a moment, but his cock began to retreat again. So he reached back down, and gave his sheath a few more harsh, hard strokes. The knot swelled a little further, and he moved his hand away. This time, when his cock tried to retreat, his knot kept the shaft exposed. The troll closed his eyes on a long, low moan, and a pleasurable shudder went through his body.

"Hmm. Interesting." Anári hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud until she heard a female voice answer.

"All their pleasure is centered in that ring of muscle at the entrance of their sheaths. It's not so different from the tight rings of your rosebud. Only much stronger, and much more sensitive."

Swiveling around, Anári gaped at the woman sitting next to her, wearing nothing but an utterly satisfied expression.

"The whole time their cocks are exposed, their bodies will try to pull them back in, stimulating the nerves in that tight ring of muscle," she continued. "The forces retracting it are quite strong, you know. That's why the knot sits so close to their sheath. The pull forces the knot down into the muscle repeatedly, causing it to open and stretch in little flutters. The muscle is too strong, of course, to let it get more than a tiny bit inside. But they claim the feeling is amazing."

Soaking up every last detail, Anári smiled at the woman. "My, aren't you a well of information."

The woman laughed. "I've spent some years in their homeland. That breed is one of my favorite trolls. It takes a while to get used to those knots, particularly since they'll use only your ass. But once you are, the feeling is positively marvelous."

"You lived in troll lands, and you returned here? What would possibly bring you back to Lorwind?"

"I don't live here, silly." The woman bumped Anári's leg. "I'm a slave of Verruk's. One of those Banerg trolls you've been admiring. He was asked to accompany this caravan, and wanted me to join him."

Anári's face lit up as she digested it. There was another human in this company, and one who seemed to share her interests. "I'm Anári." She held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine. And I'm Maive. It's nice to have another female around who seems to enjoy these bulls. I tire of the women on this road who all pretend to be revolted, then spread their legs for coin as well as pleasure anyway."

"I've noticed." Anári huffed out a dry laugh. "But tell me more about the Banerg trolls. I'm dying of curiosity."

"Well, as I mentioned, the nerves at the entrance to their sheaths are the most sensitive part of their anatomy." She jerked her head in the direction of the troll who had just finished. "He's in pure bliss right now. The muscles inside his body try to draw his cock back in, then relax after a few seconds if they're unsuccessful. As his knot decreases, it pushes further and further into that tight ring of his sheath with every pull of his body. You'll see it slide back and forth if you look closely. The stimulation causes the bull to have one long orgasm, without the release of seed. Basically, this is the part of the mating those males look forward to. The rest is simply foreplay."

"Fascinating, how nature works." Anári watched the bull. Tall and lean, his muscular body was equally lithe, his skin a mid-blue color. His tusks were short and narrow in a mouth framed by lush lips, his face rawboned and otherwise identical to a human's. He was strikingly attractive, gorgeous even, she had to admit. Still, there were signs of his more primal nature in the prominent brow bones that arched over turquoise eyes. Currently, his features showed clear signs he was experiencing great pleasure. Proving that Maive was right. "He did seem rather eager to be free when he was done, I noted."

Maive snickered. "Certainly. His knot is highly sensitive, causing contractions in his loins when squeezed tight enough that force him to release his seed. It is not very pleasurable to him, and becomes extremely uncomfortable once he is spent. So he'll always try his best to escape the pressure."

"That can't be very comfortable for the female he's rutting with." Anári made a face.

"Oh, it's not so bad," Maive waived it off. "As soon as he is spent, the knot becomes more flexible, and it somewhat turns inside you right before he manages to pull out. The whole rut feels indescribably good, actually. Even when they're not moving their hips, you'll feel their cocks sliding back and forth inside of you, trying to retract. It puts the most exquisite pressure on just the right spots. But see for yourself. He's about to mount her."

With that, Maive rose, wiggled her fingers at Anári in a wave. Mind still spinning with information, Anári focused her attention back on the second bull. His knot had formed enough to prevent his cock from retreating back into its sheath. Not much, only the width of a finger on each side of the shaft. But the troll seemed ready, so he lined up his hips. And began to look for his target.

Unlike the other trolls she'd observed, this one didn't stab forward forcefully. He moved almost gently, pushing his blunt head against the whore's butt, her thigh, her dripping wet slit. It sunk into her about an inch, then he pulled back again. Angling his flanks, he aimed higher, managed to penetrate the woman's ass on the second try.