A Servant of Arubhár 05

"I think we'd better wear full body armor if we're to make our way back out of here alive."

Laughing, Maive gave her arm a playful swat. "It's not that bad. And it's a wonderful place for watching while relaxing with a good drink."

Anári cocked her brows at Maive. "Not planning on participating?"

Amusement played around Maive's mouth as she thanked the waitress when she returned with their drinks and a fresh bowl of peanuts still in their shell. "I prefer to use this pub for its visual delights. To slowly increase my arousal, and figure out which bull I'm in the mood for later that night. You'll find a great variety here, and most of them end up rutting at some point. The whores of this pub work their trade right in the main room, since it's the only space for it. There's always a wonderful opportunity here to sit back and enjoy the show. It's also a great way to learn from a safe distance," she added with a wink.

Anári couldn't argue with that, so she grabbed her drink, settled in to do just that. Sipping her juice, she noted she'd have a hard time deciding which way to look first as she took in the scene.

Her lips twitched with humor as she realized this place was more brothel than pub. There were drinks and food, and revelry, sure. But the main focus of the place definitely catered to more basic ways to entertain oneself.

Numerous women, both troll and human, serviced the bulls in every imaginable way. So far, Anári hadn't spotted a single table that didn't make use of at least one female or two. Both bulls standing around a small, high, round table along the wall to her right had their cocks engulfed by eager mouths. The trolls enjoyed their ales and carried on their conversation while the women sucked the meaty shafts and massaged heavy balls.

At a row of dining tables in front of her, women were reclining on their backs, legs wrapped around the waists of rutting trolls. Some sat on stools, stroking shafts too large to accommodate in other ways. Others yet straddled the heaving flanks of bulls seated on low chairs, while the powerful males thrust into them from below.

Right next to her, Anári saw a bull push his loincloth aside to free his cock. She had only a moment to admire the throbbing muscle before he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of a troll woman with hands braced against the wall. The whore let out a high-pitched squeal and her hips shot forward, away from him as far as the wall would allow.

He simply grabbed her waist and yanked her back against him, held her in place. Then began a hard, fast rut with punishing thrusts. At the whore's continued whimpers and sharp, labored breaths, Anári looked down to where they were joined.

Arousal set her loins to throbbing when she noticed he had forced the thick cock up the troll woman's ass. She could see the tight muscles of the rosebud stretched to the max—pushing in whenever he thrust forward, then clinging outward to the shaft as he pulled back.

When the whore seized her squirming, he released her hips. Then rested one hand against the wall himself, reached for his ale with the other. His flanks surged back and forth as if of their own accord. Apparently satisfied his body would continue to seek release, he turned his head, and started a conversation with a nearby friend.

It was a fascinating, mesmerizing sight, observing a rut from no more than three feet away. The pulsing in Anári's clit seemed to echo each throb of the bull's steel-hard cock. The shaft, dry when it first forced its way up the troll woman's ass, now glistened with a sheen of pre-seed. The dark black color faded to light gray each time he drew back, clearly marking his path through the whore's tight rings as they squeezed and redistributed the blood flowing through the thick muscle.

He must be every bit as wide as her own wrist, Ansari mused, and felt a sting of sympathy for the troll woman. Her body was covered in a fine layer of sweat, her legs trembled with every powerful stroke she received. Her face was tight as she willed her rosebud to relax, but it was obvious her muscles were stretched to their limits.

The line of tiny, pointy ridges that spiraled around his shaft at an angle from base to tip was certain to tax the troll woman's straining rings even further. There was a larger crown of triangular ridges that encircled the mild flare behind his blunt head. It had swollen dramatically after his first few thrusts, and Anári assumed it had grown too large by now to allow him to withdraw. There was no sign of a flower yet, but something caught hard whenever he pulled back, preventing his cockhead from escaping her body.

Anári's empty tunnel contracted as she imagined how that ring of ragged ridges would feel sliding through her tight confines, rubbing and stimulating every nerve, every spot of pleasure. She was already soaking wet with her natural moisture, and she feared she'd leave her own puddle on her stool. Still, she made a mental note to leave his breed for some time later, after she'd gained some experience.

Unable to tear her gaze from the sight, she shifted from leg to leg in her seat, trying to stimulate her tingling clit. The powerful muscles of the bull's flanks quivered and contracted in a mesmerizing display of power and strength. A steady stream of pre-seed trailed down the exotic shaft, the troll whore's legs, and mixed with her natural moisture.

Anári's brows winged up when she realized the woman's body was definitely responding, despite the discomfort. Her slit was dark and swollen, her back arched to allow him better entry. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted, allowing the occasional moan between her whimpers and mewls. If what Anári had heard was true, she might not be feeling any pleasure, but nature still forced her body to welcome the rut.

The troll bull, himself, was breathing heavily now, his nostrils trembling, flaring. It was obvious he enjoyed the sensation of the whore's tight rings constricting around his cock like a tight, hot vise. Still, he continued his conversation as if nothing was happening, simply letting his natural instincts carry on the hard, rough thrusts.

His body, as well, didn't seem in a hurry to reach release. And Anári marveled at his stamina. With the force of his strokes, the tightness of the troll woman's ass, she'd have thought he would have seeded the whore a while ago. But there was no sign of him so much as nearing his peak, and he wasn't tiring either.

Long, deep thrusts drove the thick shaft in and out of the whore's straining muscles as far as it could go. His pace was relentless. Hard, fast, unforgiving. The countless little ridges lining the heavy muscle scraped over her swollen, angry rosebud. It only caused the troll woman's rings to clamp down even tighter around the pulsing cock. Even now, ten minutes into his rut, there was no sign of her body relaxing. She continued to grip him like a vise.

Another woman, this one human, approached the troll who was talking to the rutting bull. Her palms traced gently over his chest, then teased his nipples. Understanding he was willing when he didn't object, she let her hand trail lower to grip his sheath through the cloth covering his loin. And, with rough, hard strokes, began to jerk it upward.

His nostrils quivered, and his flanks trembled lightly. But, calmly, he took another sip of his ale. She repeated the process a few more times, then released his sheath. And untied the string at his waist, removed the loincloth. Turning, she placed it on the table, swallowed some of her wine.

Thoroughly curious, Anári studied his groin, now fully exposed for her inspection. There was no sign of his cock, he was obviously not aroused yet. But the erotic sight of his exotic sheath set her loins on fire. The smooth, hairless skin was deep black, like she knew his cock would be—for he was the same breed as the other bull. Numerous folds in its front would straighten out once he was fully hard. Which the woman had full intentions of achieving, for she reached for his sheath once more.

She gave him a few, playful tugs, then continued jerking it roughly. Was rewarded a moment later when the tip of his cock appeared. Fascinated, Anári stared as the whole shaft pushed out in response to the woman's continued ministrations. It was a slow and steady progress, the folds smoothing as the cock grew in length. Extended completely at a good eleven inches in length, it hadn't yet achieved full hardness, still drooping toward the ground.

Another few hard jerks on his sheath had the bull's flanks contracting. His cock flexed in response, forcing more blood into the meaty shaft. Patiently, the woman continued her ministrations, waited for him to be ready.

Releasing his sheath now and then, she resumed her strokes when it seemed his cock would withdraw. Repeated the action a few more times. When she was satisfied it would stay exposed, she let go, turned back to her drink. She knew nature would take over now, without her aid.

Anári watched the powerful muscle bounce and jerk, increasing in girth with every contraction. Still, he casually drank his ale, kept talking to the bull thrusting in and out of the troll whore. Finally, he was ready, gestured for the woman to proceed.

Without hesitation, she crouched down, wrapped her lips around the pulsing flesh. She alternately suckled on his blunt head and took him deep into her mouth. Slid her lips over him for a while, then stimulated his wide, round slit with her tongue.

Anári's breath caught in her throat as she watched the ring of ridges behind his cockhead grow and grow. She had suspected they would be large, judging by the way they caught on the other whore's anal rings. But now she understood how they kept him in place so effectively, as they extended outward well over an inch.

The woman traced a fingertip in a circle over the tips of the ridge-tipped crown. Fluttered her tongue over his blunt head. Then, with great caution, engulfed him with her mouth once more. Knowing he would no longer like his cockhead to be exposed, and unable to remove him from her mouth without tearing her lips, she focused her efforts on sucking strongly over only the shaft behind his head. She took him deep, swallowing hard each time the wide cock slid down her throat, quickly picked up the pace of her strokes. Then began to swallow continuously as the first spurts of pre-seed filled her mouth.

Licking her lips, Anári wished she had the guts to join her, run her tongue and mouth around the exposed cock base, over his heavy, pitch-black balls. She wondered what his seed and the fluids rushing from him now would taste like, how strongly that heavily pulsing shaft would thrum against her mouth. Envying the woman just a little, she took a sip of her juice to wet her parched throat. It seemed all her own body's moisture had pooled between her legs, if the wetness there was any indication.

Determinedly, the woman kept sliding her mouth over his cock, moving back and forth over the shaft as far as possible. It glistened moistly now, no doubt aided by the fluids spilling from his slit. She did her best to take him deeper and deeper, to match her speed to that of the rutting bull next to her. Her lips pressed firmly and tightly around the quivering muscle, while her tongue fluttered around his protruding crown, his head, the bottom of his shaft. Despite her best efforts to swallow as much as she could, the copious amounts of pre-seed began to trickle out of her mouth.

Glancing back over, Anári noted the rutting bull had started to grunt sporadically. Figuring he was getting close to his release, she kept her attention on him for now. There was a tightness in his broad lower back that caused his thrusts to become more labored, less smooth. His massive shaft was so swollen, so hard, it looked as if it was threatening to tear the soft, black skin stretched taunt around its girth.

The troll woman puffed out air, shifted her hips from side to side, trying to find a way to ease the stinging in her protesting nether rings. Unable to feel pleasure herself, her body had nonetheless endured the mating just fine so far. Her swollen folds glistened with moisture one could not attribute to pre-seed alone. Little spams in her lower belly proved that her womb was ready and open to receive her mate's seed. Yet, twenty minutes into the hard, unforgiving rutting, her rosebud and inner muscles were becoming more than tender.

Suddenly, the bull shoved forward, then froze. Every muscle in his body bunched taunt, rippled with tension as they tightened further and further. Enthralled, Anári held her breath as she waited, waited for what she knew would come next. And still, the bull stood as if paralyzed, muscles quivering with the strain.

A minute passed, then two. Anári's heartbeat pounded in her ears with anticipation. Then the troll woman's eyes flew open, her head shot back. Her body straightened, her fingers dug into his thighs. And Anári knew he'd exploded into flower.

As quickly as they had tensed, his muscles relaxed, and his flanks began to thrust forward and up in long, powerful contractions. His lower stomach, his hips, his ass flexed and tightened in an incredible display of strength. His shaft jumped and pulsed as wave after wave of seed rushed through it and deep into the troll woman's bowels. She wiggled, danced from foot to foot, but the bull held her waist firmly in place. Her groans were drowned out by his deep, long grunts as he rode out his release.

Anári thought she'd expire from arousal if he carried on this way. Surely, one could not survive with all one's blood pooled in one's loins.

"Wow," she exclaimed breathlessly as the pent-up air burst from her lungs.

Behind her, Maive chuckled. "A Rocwar troll. Quite an amazingly enjoyable experience for a human woman, I must admit. And those of other races who receive pleasure from a rutting."

Trying to will her heart-rate to settle, Anári took a deep gulp of her juice. The bull had calmed, still sheathed deeply inside of the troll woman. Only the occasional trembles now visible in his flanks. Reaching over, he retrieved his ale, wet his dry throat. Then casually continued his conversation.

A short while later, he began trying to free his cock. Quick little gasps escaped the troll whore's mouth as she moved with him. Tiring of the game, and impatient now that he was spent, he set his mug back down, wrapped his hands around her hips. Then tugged, tugged backwards with more and more force.

Finally, with a loud plop, the extended ring of ridges behind his head broke free, and the wide flare of the flowering head began to open the already over-stretched rings of her ass. Squealing, she cursed and tried to stall his withdraw, but he would not be denied.

Slowly but steadily, he pulled the massive flower through her resisting muscles. With a shower of seed that rushed out of her throbbing rosebud, down her legs, and onto the floor, his cock came free.

Anári could only stare as the high ring of ridges quickly deflated, retracting to tiny size. Weighed down by the still very large flower, his cock drooped toward the ground. Aware it would take a while, the troll ignored the shaft that swung back and forth as he returned to his table. Almost another five minutes passed before the head returned to blunt. And, no longer hindered, the cock quickly retreated into its sheath.

Astonished, Anári shook her head as if to clear it. Then her eyes were drawn to the other bull. He'd apparently grown bored with the efforts of the woman sucking his cock. Careful not to dislodge himself, he backed her up until her head rested against the wall. Then began to thrust into her mouth with hard, deep strokes.

Her throat labored relentlessly as she swallowed, swallowed, trying not to gag. Every now and then, he'd shorten his thrusts just long enough to allow her to breathe. Then his cockhead would sink as far down as his ridged crown allowed once more.

Roughly, unconcerned with her feelings, he took his pleasure between her lips. But the woman seemed rather aroused by his actions, since her finger was fluttering rapidly over her clit. Her other hand had a firm hold of his butt cheek, urging him on.

Not for the first time, Anári wished she was brave enough to join them. There was so much of his shaft still exposed. She yearned to wrap her fist around those delicate little ridges spiraling around his cock. To feel them sliding through her palm. Idly, she wondered if the troll would mind, or welcome such an intrusion.

Well accustomed to bringing pleasure to the bulls, the woman released his butt, dipped two fingers into her own moist heat. Bringing them back up, she circled over his rosebud. Then, without further warning, she sank them deep into his ass.

Finding the swollen gland inside of him, she pressed down hard, massaged it. Was rewarded with his deep, harsh grunts. Anári could have sworn her lips, stretched wide around the meaty shaft, curved into a knowing smile.

It didn't take too long, with the firm pressure on his pleasure spot, to rush the bull toward his peak. His flanks began to flex and quiver as his powerful chest rose and fell with labored breaths. The slick, black shaft hardened further, stretching the skin tight. When it began to flex and jump inside of the woman's mouth, he stilled.

His hands gripped her head, tilted it to the side. And gently, gently, with great caution, he managed to free the ridged circle behind his blunt head from her mouth. The woman did smile at him then, lapped playfully at the pre-seed spilling from his slit. Then she withdrew her fingers from his ass, used both hands to jerk his shaft.

One wrapped around the ridged protrusions, the other further down. And with rough, fast motions, she began to stroke him. A moment later, his body froze. Her hands stilled their movements, now simply squeezing him as hard as she could.

As with the other bull, time seemed suspended as every one of his muscles stayed bunched, tightened, for a minute, then two. Then his blunt head burst into full flower, trembling, quivering, a second from release.

When his body relaxed, his flanks thrust forward, the woman wrapped both hands around his flowering head. Squeezing, massaging, jerking it, she drove him over the edge. A flood of seed shot from his round, wide-open slit in repeated bursts, sprayed over the woman's neck and chest. She laughed excitedly and continued her ministrations until the bull calmed down.

Well-aware of his routine, she firmly gripped his shaft behind the huge ridged crown. Simply kept her hand there, held him in place while the fingers of her other hand found her clit once more. It wasn't long before he began to pull back against her fist, no longer interested in stimulation.

Resolutely, she held on tight, refused to let him go. Her fingers fluttered faster and faster over her clit, her own arousal peaking at his struggles. Whole body tense, she let out a moan, then another. Little tremors soon turned into jerky contractions, then her core tightened forcefully.

Dropping to her knees from a crouch, she nevertheless managed to keep hold of the bull's cock as her body shook with a forceful release. Her hands must have tightened even further around his now sensitive shaft, for he renewed his efforts to free himself from her grip.

Gasping for air, the woman waited for the last little spasms of pleasure to ebb. Then playfully suckled on his flowering head. The bull grunted in response, his flanks contracted forcefully. It was obvious he no longer found the sensation enjoyable.

The laugh she gave him sounded almost wicked. Loosening her grip a little, she studied the circle of swollen ridges behind his flaring head.

"I think you're almost ready. As much as I hate to let you go." Her tone was every bit as mischievous as the kiss she pressed to his swollen cockhead.