Ink You / Us Ch. 01

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Female adventurers get involved with an incubus. Hijinks.
6.5k words
4.55
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 01/26/2018
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Sarah sighed when she saw the mugging, mostly because it was happening right in front of her on the narrow sidewalk.

At least, she assumed it was a mugging. Maybe the two men in hoods pointing daggers at the young woman were asking for directions, or maybe they were aggressive knife salesmen. It can be so unfair to assume.

"Give us the purse nicely, or we'll take it anyway and cut that pretty face of your's," said one man. Perhaps the unspoken words in that sentence were, 'and we'll exchange these fine, artisanal daggers that you're buying!'

"Actually," said the customer / victim in a much lower voice than she expected, meaning, the figure in front of her was actually a male. "This isn't a purse, it's a money pouch, and it's got the store's earnings for the last couple of hours. I can't just give it to you."

"Fuck! You're a man? What kind of faggot are you?"

He seemed unconcerned about this, despite being dwarfed by the men next to him and outdaggered. "There's like... a lot of problematic assumptions and reactions to unpack here."

A male? She was so surprised by this that she was lost in thought a moment as she continued walking, which meant she ended up stopping five feet from the scene. She had assumed from the petite height of the person, and the tightness of the leather pants, as well as the shapely butt and legs that filled them meant the figure was a woman. Not that men can't have well-shaped posteriors, they just often keep them a closely guarded secret in pants that are cut like a pair of tubes.

"Hey, keep walkin' stranger, this don't concern... umm... you," said one of the men.

His hesitation was probably because Sarah was rather well armed for an innocent bystander. She had just finished a pair of arena matches tonight, including a special exhibition where she slaughtered a dozen vargs - aggressive, monstrous wolf like creatures. The entertainment wasn't very humane, but it was very human in its appeal.

The exhibition was after her match, which meant she was covered in blood on her armor and face and limbs.

"Um," the would-be thief nudged his companion who was focused on the young man.

"Maybe we'll take the money and... and stick our cocks in your pretty mouth! And fuck you up your tight ass! To punish you for being such a fag! That'll show you." Said the other thief. "Being so gay and stuff!"

"Um," another nudge from his companion.

Sarah rolled her eyes. Lazily, she placed a hand on the hilt of her sword and unsheathed it with the air of someone cleaning up an unpleasant mess of vomit off their freshly cleaned kitchen floor.

"Just... go," she said. "I'd rather not, but... y'know."

It was hardly the most heroic phrase to utter when intervening on behalf of the weak and defenseless, but she was tired.

This finally caught the attention of the other thief who looked at Sarah, brandishing a sword of her own, armored, and with a Resting Bitch Face so strong, it emitted homicidal waves that were practically tangible.

"Leave the daggers," she said.

There were a series of metallic clatters onto the cobbles, and then the two men walked away whistling casually, remarking on law-abiding they were.

"Huh," said the man. "Thanks! You rescued me. I wasn't expecting that."

"Me neither," Sarah said, sheathing the weapon. She knelt down and picked up the daggers. They weren't awful and would fetch a few silvers at a pawn store. "So, you're carrying a bunch of money at night to the bank to deposit? And you're not armed?"

"No," he said. "I'm Jay by the way."

"Sarah," she said. "You new in town?"

"I am!" he said brightly.

"Yeah, that's not a good thing. People get robbed regularly here, and intervention by armed strangers doesn't happen unless they're there to shake the thieves down. Why would your business let you go by yourself to deposit it?"

"Well, I'm the only man working there, so I thought it was only right of me to deposit it. Besides, most of the time, people ignore me. Unless some man wolf whistles me, but then I just keep walking."

"How'd they know you had any money anyway?" She asked. "I assume you don't just walk with that purse out in your hands like that."

"Oh no. He stepped out of that alleyway and asked me if I had any money on me. I said, I had a large amount of money that I was depositing and that..."

"You told... a man, who just stepped out of an alley that you had lots of money on you?"

"Right. And I told him that I was really nervous because I wasn't armed and didn't know how to fight anyway, so I was in a hurry to do so and it over with."

Sarah's mind boggled. She felt thankful for the distraction because she found herself staring at his features, which were delicate and fine, with dark hair and eyes. His skin was like muted gold and his eyes had an exotic look to them.

"Really?"

"Yes," he said. "My mother always told me to be honest."

"Okay," Sarah said. "She didn't give you any sort of exceptions or nuance to that rule?"

He looked up, biting his full lower lip in thought. "You know, I'm starting to think she did. Can't remember what she said though..."

"Jeez," she said. "It's a good thing you're pretty."

"Thanks! My face is my fortune, as mother said. But I'm not sure that's true here. Where I come from that was true for both men and women. Here... you have an odd, um, valuing of beauty here."

"Indeed," she said. Sarah tore her gaze from his face and looked up the street. "The bank's around the corner, how about I walk you there, and then you can get back to work."

"That would be great!" He said. "But I'd like to pay you back."

"That's not necessary," she said automatically, leading the way.

"What about... some steak and potatoes, alcohol, and access to our shower - enchanted to spray out warm water. It's amazing if you've never been."

She was preparing another refusal when her ears heard the words, her brain interpreted them, and kicked her. "What?"

"I work at 'Women Dance Without Much Clothes On, And You Can Buy Cheap Food Too,'" said Jay. "It's the place owned..."

"... by a dwarf. Strongintheforearm, right?" said Sarah. The city was a melting pot of many races, and though dwarves were industrious business people, they were rather bad at naming businesses without subtlety or metaphor. Their store names back in dwarf cities tended to be very descriptive of what they sold. Sarah was a regular customer of "Blunt Instruments Made of Metal," "Admittedly Good Armor that Is Slightly Overcosted Due to Brand Recognition," and "Leather Goods That You Wear or Use In Bed."

"You've been?" Jay asked.

"Once or twice. I wanted to see if women would do anything for me."

"Did they?"

Sarah felt like she was already being shockingly candid. She never talked about this to anyone. Then again, she rarely spoke to strangers.

"I think so," she said. "It was nice. But that may just be because men suck. No offense."

"None taken." He nodded empathetically. "After being here awhile, I think I know what you mean. So, will you let me treat you for saving me? The money in here more than compensates for our services."

"Your services?"

"Cheap food, alcohol, strip teases, and dancers."

Sarah laughed. "Tell you what, I'll take the food and the alcohol." * * *

The place was a dive, as expected. The lighting was dim, and colored glass covered lanterns gave everything a sleazy, smoky feel. That said, the bar area had drinks and food. It was quiet since it was a Tuesday night, with only a few men in the crowd, and the dancers worked on trying to single people out for lap dances.

"How'd you even get a job here?" Sarah asked.

"Well, with the face, I can bartend provided I do not talk and stay behind the bar. I cook and... take care of things," he said.

"That seems like an excessively dramatic pause before 'taking care of things,'" Sarah said. "What? You luck into Boob Polisher or Clit Inspector or something."

"Actually nothing that salacious. At least, not officially," he said. "I assist in making sure women are not getting any surprise bundles."

"How's that?"

"Mostly with regards to egg delivery," he said. "I've got a very keen nose for it."

"That's impossible," she said.

He shrugged. "If it is, they're paying me for a perfect success rate and I've been very lucky. I would say you've had your period... about six days ago. Fairly light, though not more so than usual. I imagine your muscle tone and low body fat are the reasons."

She had to consider the timing before responding.

"Lucky guess?" Jay grinned at her.

"It was," she said grudgingly. Believe it or not, people often do not like having their smell sampled and commented on."

"Fine fine, I can tell you that it's something I can sense. Magically."

"That's better," she said, taking another drink of her beer. She lowered the mug and looked at it. "Your beer seems surprisingly strong."

"Does it? I'm surprised," Jay said. "I do the best I can with the food, which has improved immensely. But the beer is out of my hands, and unanimously considered watered down and bad," Jay said.

"What else can you sense?" Sarah asked, sliding the empty mug back.

He took the mug and filled it. As he turned back, he had a look of consideration on his face.

"I think you're used to being sad," he said.

Sarah's head almost recoiled at this. "Come again?"

"That's nothing related to my talents, actually. You just strike me as someone who's used to it. I don't think you'd consider it especially tragic. It's just something I'm picking up," he said.

"Right," she said.

"But that's not impressive, is it? So give me a second. You last masturbated... I guess, about four hours ago?"

She took the mug from Jay, and despite her usual deep wells of cynicism and jadedness, she was impressed and said so. "I'm actually impressed."

"Yeah, people often are by that one. Has to be fairly recent though."

"Anything else?" she asked, downing the ale she'd been given. Normally, one pint wouldn't do anything to her, but she could actually feel it.

"I would need to get closer to you," Jay said. "Physically."

"Sure, you may approach!" She said imperiously, mug raised as she beckoned him with the other hand.

He smiled and moved her plate to one side. Jay turned around and hopped up until his leather covered rear was on the bar. Then he spun with a squeak as he rotated his legs onto the other side, until his feet were on either side of Sarah's slightly spread legs. He leaned towards her, and he broke out into a big grin.

He lowered his voice. "One thing I can definitely tell is that you find me attractive."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Please, you're still a wet behind the ears kid."

"And you're a wet between the legs kind of a woman."

Sarah's tone turned defensive. "Okay, look, I'm not like that."

He leaned back, crossing his ankles lightly between Sarah's knees. "I know," he said. "I can tell. I personally think you'd probably make a lot of young lads' happy by indulging, but you never did. Not until some baby-faced pretty boy needed your help, and all you've done is look."

"Jay, I'm not some wannabe cougar looking to rob the cradle," she said. "You should be with maidens having a good time."

"I'm having a good time now," he said. "From a purely superficial standpoint, I quite like looking at you.."

Sarah managed to turn her cynicism back on and took another drink. "Yeah, right."

"I know there's a... lets say a trend," Jay said, "of men of all ages finding young, ripe, innocent, tight maidens the pinnacle of what to put your bits into. Now, don't get me wrong, I indulge in that too. However, I think that's very narrow-minded considering the vast sea of women out there."

She didn't have a response, so she kept drinking. Jay's head tilted to one side and looked at her inquisitively, his long bangs falling over his eyes. "I feel like this is the wrong tact to take with you," he said. "Seems like you don't trust me when I tell you what I want. So, maybe let's figure out what you want."

"I'm guessing, there's also another trend at work here, that I've spotted in my brief time here in your wo... whole country," he said in an ambling sing song sort of voice, looking off to one side. "We're in a place with manly men and womanly women. Even if a good quarter of the people here with weapons I've seen are women. And so, when a woman such as yourself, hard-bodied and hard edged," as he said this, he dropped a hand on her shoulder, tracing it idly down her arm, "wants a man, it's assumed they have to find a man who mans so hard, he's an anthropomorphic erect penis in armor. Big bushy beard to match a jungle of coarse man pubes that could scrap your skillet clean. Muscles on muscles. Big sword or axe. Belches hugely at meals. Doesn't waste time with no stinkin' perfume. Also, emotionally unavailable and an inability to deal with their own insecurities, and being vaguely homophobic."

He smiled again, "sorry, got into a bit of a rant there. I still think your country has lots of lovely people in it."

"You're not wrong about a lot of that," Sarah said, managing only to make occasional eye contact with him. "And it's a shit country with shit people."

"Perhaps," Jay said. "But, maybe a warrior woman like yourself, wanted something different. A man who has great eyebrows," he waggled his finely shaped brows at her, "who takes care of his skin and hair. And while I don't have muscles on muscles..."

He lifted the edge of his shirt slightly. "Tell you what. If you take off your armor, I'll take off the shirt. If you're not in the mood, I'll drop it."

Possible futures shuffled in Sarah's mind. She had never met anyone like this man before. Pretty and petite, but utterly confident and desiring to be objectified. She doubt she'd ever do so again. Telling herself, she could also walk away from all this any time she'd like, she undid the straps for her armor. The breastplate and greaves were undone, leaving just her soft clothes on. For the first time in public in a long time, she was unarmored. Thank goodness for magical enchantments that made donning and doffing armor quick and easy (in case anyone would be pulled out of this oh so realistically written sexual power fantasy due to how fast armor gets taken off.)

Sarah tried to keep her expression neutral, afraid of appearing too wanting or too hungry, but she mostly looked a little glassy eyed as she stared right underneath Jay's shirt as he smirked and began lifting it. He took his time, revealing a toned torso that tapered to his hips. His muscles were pleasing, with pronounced pectorals and a flat stomach. His skin was smooth, hairless and flawless, glowing amber in the stripclub's low lighting. This was not a body that used weapons and got into battles and carried scars. This was not a body that toiled in the fields all day, nor was it an impoverished body that did not have access to building materials. Nor was it the all too common body of a man who had other things to do with their body than refine, hone, or really even use it.

It was a body purely made for looking pretty and nothing practical, and she had never seen such a thing on a man.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Not really listening to his words, she nodded affirmatively.

He chuckled. "Wanna go somewhere more private?"

Jay slid off the banister, leaving his shirt, and took her hand. She followed, inhaling in the smell of his soap and scented oils. As she followed him, he motioned for a dancer to take her armor and things somewhere for safety. Jay was shorter and slimmer than her, which reminded her of when she had dated women. Walking along protectively, appreciating the pleasant shape and stature of her partners.

The muscles on his back moved in a pleasant manner, as they stretched and flex as they walked into the back of the club. He parted a pair of dark black curtains and led the way further in. She was dimly aware of him placing her drink on a table to one side, and gestured to the only other piece of furniture in the room, a large leather chair built low to the ground with a wide seat but a low back.

He pushed her gently into it, and turned around again, making sure the curtains were securely shut. She stared at his ass, toned and contained by his tight leather pants. The music from outside was dulled back here. He sauntered towards her with a smile on his face, dancing to the beat as he did so. He stopped when his stomach was a foot from her face. She reached out with a hand to touch it, and was startled when he slapped her hand.

"Most basic rule of strip clubs is that you may look, but not touch," he said playfully. "But, if you're a good girl and sit real still, maybe I'll accidentally brush against you. Come on... just relax."

He placed a hand on her forehead and applied pressure lightly until she leaned back in her seat, her head resting on the low back of the chair. His fingers pulled at her short hair, and he leaned in closer, giving her an eye full of his chest. She was breathing heavily, her head filled with his scent. He massaged her scalp, then drew back slowly, letting his fingers trace her cheek as he did so. She looked at his hands, delicate fine fingers with nails that looked to be manicured.

He undulated his body for her, letting her admire how his muscles moved on his torso. His hands lowered to his belt and he undid it, letting it dangle loosely. Sarah thought of certain types of birds, with the males, colorful and fabulous performing dances for their prospective mates. It was unusual to be in a position to not needing to do anything but be pleased, especially with a man. He unbuttoned his pants, but didn't go further than this, pausing.

"You're hard to read sometimes," Jay said when she looked up into his face.

"Really? Because this is the most blunt I've ever been about what I want," her mouth felt dry.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm learning a lot about you. And I have more to find out," he said.

He leaned forward again, his body stiffening into a plank as his hands hit the wall behind her. He allowed his tensed muscles on his torso to come closer and closer to her face, and she remembered the rules to sit still. He brushed his abs on her cheek, and slid downward so that his pecs were next. His skin was so soft, she wondered what he used, and there was a moment she felt self-conscious for every scrap of dry skin on her and thought about all the scars on her arms and chest.

He kept sliding until his cheek rested against her's. His hands were now on her shoulders, and lazily descending her chest, stopping at her nipples - visibly standing to attention despite her bra.

"Do you like my body, Sarah?" he breathed into her ear.

"Yes," she said.

She felt drunk. Not from the alcohol, but just from the indulgence of having a man try so hard to appeal to her physically in a way that was purely enticing. Not submissively. He was loud, colorful, and flamboyant. Her own personal prancing cock of paradise.

His hands fell deeper to her hips, and then to her thighs. He started near her knees and rubbed them firmly towards her crouch. She found her legs opening either through his pressure or maybe she was doing it. He stopped short of her crotch, which she realized for the first time was definitely wet.

"You look a little uncomfortable," he said. "Let me help you."

His hands began to undo her belt, and unbuttoned it. He placed his palm against the front of her pants and pressed against her mound, and she had to resist wanting to jerk her hips up higher. He curled his fingers over into her panties, brushing the hair there. He pulled at her pants and panties, smiling up at her.

"I can smell how wet you are," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling self-conscious again.

"Why?" he laughed. "I love it. I love what I see of your body. Scars and all. Trust me, I would devour every inch of your body, including your cunt and ass."

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