Cinder and the Runny Gutter

"I'd say the chances are good."

Cinder waved goodbye to Tahunae, then put her hands on her hips and grinned at the newcomers. While they worked up their courage to approach, she refocused her attention on Maeryll, who was staring at the liquid sloshing around the bottom of the dog bowl.

"Stop looking at it and just do it," Cinder said, pointing at the bowl. "It's not gonna eat itself, you know."

Maeryll stared at the half-full bowl with a fascinated expression on her face.

"Do it," Cinder said, dropping down behind her friend. "Doooo it," she repeated.

"Hold my hair," Maeryll said, sinking to all fours. When Cinder had gathered the woman's silver locks into a loose ponytail out of her face, Maeryll lowered her head and got to eating.

"Whoa. This is just... so, so hot," Cinder murmured as she watched the snow elf lick the dog bowl clean.

Cinder held Maeryll's hair back with one hand, then ran her other down Maeryll's gracefully arched back. She gave her friend's round bottom a little smack, then pumped her fingers into her sodden cunt. Maeryll's hot little moans echoed from the dog bowl as Cinder ravaged her pussy.

When she was done, Maeryll lifted her head and wiped her mouth clean. By that point, the two elves were surrounded by several more men staring down at them there in the courtyard, naked and sloppy. Cinder's cum dripped down Maeryll's chin and back into the dog bowl in thick plops.

Cinder caught a glimpse of bright pink hair and realized that it wasn't just the boys who'd come to check out the action. The songbird from inside, the minstrel with the banjo, was in the group of watchers as well. Her eyes were riveted on Maeryll.

"Hi," Maeryll said, rising to her feet with liquid grace.

"Hi," the bard said back, a little shyly. "I'm Amelia."

"I'm Maeryll. You know, I knew a woman named Amelia once."

"Really?"

"Yeah ok sure, pretend like no one else is even here," Cinder grumbled under her breath as the two women continued their conversation, apparently oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Yes," Maeryll answered, "but I broke her heart. It happened in a bar a lot like this one."

"Is that right?" Amelia replied softly. "That sounds very cruel."

From the excited rise and fall of her chest, Cinder could tell the bard wasn't dissuaded in the slightest.

Maeryll took a step forward, closing the distance between them. The snow elf wore her pale, besmirched nudity like a ballgown. "I can be very cruel when the situation calls for it," Maeryll said. "Would you like to find out how wicked I can be?"

The pink-haired bard opened her mouth to speak, but a little mousy squeak came out instead of words. She swallowed, then tried again. "Gods, yes."

"Duty calls," Maeryll said to Cinder over her shoulder and pulled the bard in for a kiss.

Despite the filth splattered across the snow elf's face from her turn at the dogbowl, Amelia didn't seem to mind locking lips with Maeryll. Actually, the bard aggressively welcomed the embrace, and the two women were still swapping spit and Cinder-jizz when the ranks of horny serving jacks closed around where Cinder knelt on the tattered blanket.

"You, uh, available for groups?" one of them asked. He was a short man with a beauty mark on his cheek. He wore his long, silky-looking hair tied up by a checkered bandana. "We all sort of decided to go on our breaks at the same time. Hope that's ok."

There were about six of the guys looking down at her with a variety of hungry, nervous, and eager expressions, and more were still coming out of the back door. The less shy blokes had already taken their pants off and were wanking casually to the sight of her. There was a semi-circle of cock bristling around Cinder, all pointing at the comely elf like half a dozen rods of slut-dowsing.

"Might be," Cinder said, coyly batting her eyelashes up at the men and all their delicious, tasty-looking cocks. "What's the password?"

A few of the guys looked puzzled. Someone in the back piped up, "Didn't Hugo mention something about 'hot cinders?'"

Cinder rolled her eyes, already reaching for the closest pair of cocks. "For fucks sake... whatever. Just get in my guts already!"

The debauchery which unfolded over the next few hours would go on to enter the sordid annals of Reeperbahn lore as 'The Elvish Affair.' The tale circulated and spread throughout the red light district like wildfire, long after Cinder and Maeryll left the city behind for greener pastures. It was popular among the harlots, coinlasses, coinlads, and their customers.

Questions abounded; 'she let them put what, where, and how many times?' being among the most popular, followed by, 'how much do you think that is that in gallons, approximately?'

The story was told until it turned into legend, and then retold until it passed into myth. Several near-drownings occurred when overly ambitious sex workers attempted to recreate the event, and the practice was banned by the city council.

A small bronze statue with a commemorative plaque was eventually erected in the courtyard of the Runny Gutter. It depicted a curvaceous, messy-haired elf on her knees, pinching her nipples in a display of pure, almost transcendental horniness. She had her mouth open, and a wide grin plastered across her face. People often scattered bird seed near the statue, and the resulting avian deposits added a dimension of realism to the sculpture that the original artist hadn't been able to quite replicate in bronze.

All that would all come later, however. Right now, Cinder was just busy getting fucked.

"Rotate through my ass," she said from where she lay on her back on the blanket. She spread her legs wide, gripped her ankles, and winked her asshole at the group of serving jacks. The lads were all too willing to oblige.

Man after man knelt there on the blanket to worship at the altar of Cinder's butthole. Some cocks were large, others small. Many were curved or veined, and a few even had fun little piercings in various places. They were a kaleidoscope of colors and textures, a rainbow of dick whose pot of gold lay deep in Cinder's bowels.

While she was fucked, Cinder came, and when Cinder came, she made a lot of noise. The wild sounds she made set the dogs in the kennel off to mad rounds of barking, and the cacophony drew many, many eyes. At one point, the russet-haired elf wiped a fresh load of spunk from her forehead and looked up to see a crowd of people had gathered at the rooftop bar of the casino next door. She could see them drinking champagne, talking, and laughing while they observed the elf's carnal destruction from afar.

The fact that people were enjoying the show was a pretty big turn-on for Cinder, but then a pair of hairy thighs straddled her head and a fresh dick was shoved into her mouth, obscuring her view of the watchers. Cinder looked up and saw Treader's stubbly face looking down at her.

"Hey," he said. "I figured I might as well get my rocks off, if that's ok?"

"Fine by me," Cinder said, licking up and down his dick meat, "but if you say one fucking word about a quest, I will bite." She clicked her teeth near the head of his prick for emphasis.

"My lips are sealed," the ranger assured her.

"Cool," Cinder replied, "because mine are definitely not." She proved this by letting him facefuck her until he shot a load into her eye.

People jockeyed for position to touch, squeeze, tease or otherwise molest her. A pair of half-orc men who she didn't think actually worked at the Runny Gutter decided they didn't want to wait in an orderly queue. That was just fine by Cinder. She wailed in orgiastic bliss as they pushed both of their cocks into her asshole at the same time, then both pounded her bottom until they blasted a twinned load of cream up her rear end.

After the example set by the half-orcs, people stopped taking turns. While Cinder rode a dwarven man with a beard longer than he was tall, someone clambered up behind her and filled her ass. As she bounced, impaled, Cinder could see more people standing at the back door of the Runny Gutter, watching and waiting to take her sweating, luscious flesh for a spin.

It was a cavalcade of cock, interspersed with an avalanche of cum. The redheaded elf sucked whatever was put into her mouth and spread the resulting bath of warm, sticky love all over her body. She cleaned the taste of her ass from so many dicks she lost count, tried to start again, then lost count once more before finally giving up. Her cunt and ass were fucked into a frothing cream, and she ate enough booty and worshipped enough balls to put even a sixth-layer succubus to shame.

Every so often, just before her shuddering body was wracked by a particularly intense orgasm, Maeryll popped up out of the press of thrusting bodies like a fucking ninja and slurped a mouthful of Cinder's squirt as it sprayed out of her pussy. The snow elf would gulp it down, smack her lips, and disappear so quickly that Cinder wasn't sure if she'd been there or was just an illusion brought on by complete sensory overload.

At some point, Cinder took a break to eat a sandwich with the lads and have a few beers. When she came back into the courtyard, she heard a bunch of women giggling and realized Maeryll and her bardic conquest had assembled a harem of their own. What looked like a writhing pile of nubile female flesh had taken up residence on some more soiled blankets nearby, and there was a great deal of sighing, moaning, fingerblasting, and squirting going on over there.

Maeryll was in the thick of it, hair soaked with girlcum, eyes blazing with cobalt avarice as she stared at the squirming pile of naked ladies like a dragon surveying her horde.

"Stacey," she commanded, "you go over there and fuck Sweetling. Margaretha, why are you still wearing socks, of all things?"

Cinder snorted. "Ok, Commander Maeryll."

"Did you say something, Cotton?" asked Hugo, who'd come back for seconds.

"Nah," Cinder said, "but hey; on a scale of one to fuck yeah, how do you feel about me licking someone else's cumload out of your buttcrack?"

He shrugged. "I'm down."

The Runny Gutter lived up to its name that night, the drains clogging with creamy spunk. Cinder moved like a being of elemental lust, acting on instinct alone; suck this, lick that, ride those. Her tits were caked in cum, licked clean my hungry mouths, and caked again. The men of the tavern used her thoroughly, and Cinder used them right the hells back. She gave it out and she took it, and the elf did it all with an eager, relentless hunger that demanded to be matched by the people railing her.

With every move she made, every desperate animal noise that left her wet lips, she told them what she craved; more. Harder. Use me. And - thank the gods - Shel's boys did just that.

By the end of it all, Cinder's naked, generous ass was cherry red from the marks of countless palms. Men groaned as she made them come, fat loads pumping up her ass, down her throat, or into her cunt, swollen balls throbbing with the ejaculate they sprayed all over her captivating body.

The sky was growing streaky pink with light when Shel finally walked up to Cinder. The orc woman knelt down beside the elf, who was laying on her back getting reamed out by a grunting serving jack who had taken an inordinate amount of time deciding which hole he wanted to fuck.

"Hey Cotton," Shel said.

"Oh h-hey," Cinder replied, her voice shaky from the man's ardent thrusting.

"How's it going? Need anything?"

"Maybe some water, I guess?"

Shel snapped her fingers, and one of the men lounging naked against an empty dog crate put out his cigarette and rushed inside to get the requested drink.

"I've got to say, I'm grateful," Shel said. "It's a fantastic service you're providing; the boys can come out here, drop off a load-"

"-or two!" Cinder said. She groaned with pleasure as the man rutting her came, his cock throbbing in the sheath of her cunt.

"Or two," Shel agreed, "and then come back to work, relaxed and refreshed. If you and your silvery friend over there are looking for coin, you could do worse than taking a spot at the Runny Gutter."

The man pulled himself off and out of Cinder. They high-fived, and then the guy ambled off to go find his pants. Cinder sat up on the soggy blanket, cum leaking from her pussy. She pushed her spunk-plastered hair out of her face and shook her head.

"Thanks, Shel, but I do this for the orgasms, not the coin. Well, except when I do do it for the coin. Oh shit that reminds me, I haven't paid my Harlot's Guild dues in an age."

Shel threw her head back and laughed. "If you change your mind, the Runny Gutter would love to have you fill a position or two."

Cinder was too tired to even make a joke about that. "I'll keep that in mind, man. Right now, I think I'm fucking done. Got anywhere M and I can crash?"

***

Cinder stretched and yawned, blinking sleep and gods-knew what else out of her eyes as she squinted against the brightness of the afternoon light. The pillow underneath her head squirmed, whined softly, and gave a sleepy little kick of its hindquarters.

Oh, right.

Cinder sat up, stretching out the kinks in her neck. Maybe it wasn't the most glorious of accommodations, but honestly, a kennel was a pretty good place to sleep. It was warm, dry, and there were plenty of furry buddies to keep you company.

Cinder looked across the Runny Gutter's courtyard and saw a surprisingly familiar woman walking towards her. A few golden curls poked out of the shiny black bondage hood she wore, obscuring most of her features except for a pair of plump lips, bright emerald eyes, and a fat gold bullring piercing her nose.

"Whoa! Slutface, how's it going? I didn't expect to see you here. What brings you to the Runny Gutter so early in the morning?

"Hi Cinder," the woman replied. "I'm picking up some supplies from Shel. Also, it's half past noon."

Cinder was surprised. "You know Shel?"

"She and I go way back," Slutface said with a shrug, jamming her hands in the pockets of her overalls. "She sells me her second-hand dog collars. They're cheaper than buying new, and besides, I like the fact that they've been used."

The masked woman said the word 'used' with a happy little shiver.

"Weird! Anyway, it's good to see you. Hey, is Micah here too?"

"Sure is."

"Sweet. Think we can bum a ride?"

"We?"

Demonstrating her penchant for impeccable timing, Maeryll chose that moment to step into the courtyard. The silver-haired elf had somehow found a set of traveling clothes. She'd done her makeup too, and was generally looking as fresh as a damn daisy.

Cinder looked down at the crust of spunk flaking off of her chest, and became mildly annoyed.

"Hi Slutfuce," Maeryll said. "Afternoon, Cin."

"Where've you been?" Cinder asked.

"Over at Amelia's," Maeryll shrugged.

"The bard chick from last night?"

"The same. Anyway, I came bearing gifts." The snow elf set down a sloshing bucket of water onto the cobbles of the courtyard and tossed Cinder a rag.

Cinder snatched the cloth out of the air. "Thanks. I guess I'm pretty ripe."

Slutface nodded. "You also look like you had an accident in a candlemaker's shop. What happened last night?"

"Ha! It was wild- I'll tell you all about it on the road." Cinder dipped the rag into the bucket and started to scrub. Almost immediately, the water turned cloudy.

"I guess I should find something to wear too," she mused as she sluiced the filth from between her legs. Her butt was a little sore, but other than that, she felt none the worse for wear. It wasn't like any of the serving jacks from last night had been trolls. Shel would never hire a troll. She couldn't stand those guys.

"I've got that covered too," Maeryll said, holding out a piece of black fabric. Cinder frowned, not liking the mischievous expression that twisted her friend's lips.

"Thanks," she said slowly, taking the fabric from Maeryll's outstretched hand.

When Cinder saw what it was, her cry of dismay caused a flock of pigeons roosting nearby to take wing, squawking their alarm and indignation as they flapped away.

"No! No more fucking skirts, Maeryll!"

🍸🕳️💦

~Fin~