tagSci-Fi & FantasyPlanescape: Squeak

Planescape: Squeak


Squeak. Squeak.

Sigil was the center of the Multiverse, the torus-shaped city on top of an infinite spire in the middle of an infinite plain, where every creature could gather to love, fight, and then have a drink. Sixteen factions ruled the city, each with a different philosophy on life, its own role in the governance of the city, and, perhaps most importantly, its own tavern. Every faction had its own watering hole, ranging from the famous, like the Indep's Red Lion Inn, to the obscure. Even the Dustmen, those dour, grim-faced seekers of True Death congregated in the Gathering Dust bar. Alcohol, more surely the politics or philosophy, united the Factions.

Squeak. Squeak.

Drachmir stared at the glass in his hand, squinting owlishly at its blood-red color, and then downed it in a gulp. It occurred to him that he was a bit drunk, which was making him philosophical. Now normally, Drachmir was the last person one would consider philosophical, being what most people would call a seven and a half foot tall cross between a hyena and a human. A canine head with a short muzzle, large, round ears, and predatory orange eyes perched atop a lean, rangy body covered in spotted tan fur, a sand-colored tail completing the ensemble. He was a gnoll, a member of the race best known for brutal savagery and cannibalism. Privately, Drachmir disliked the idea of eating other people. One never knew where they'd been. At the moment however, his reputation seemed to be remarkably useless.

Squeak. Squeak.

It was a quiet evening at the Mandible, the Sensate-run bar in one of the seedier parts of the Lower Ward. The lights were dim, just a few flickering torches that made Drachmir's spotted tan fur even darker in the gloom, and the bar was near silent, its Thri-Keen bartender industriously cleaning glasses in its four insectoid hands, the insistent squeaking of rags on glass creating a kind of background sound for the low-toned conversation in the bar.

Drachmir pushed the glass he had just emptied towards the barkeep, who used two of its hands to refill the wine cup, not missing a beat in its industrious polishing with its other clawed arms. The Thri-Keen was always polishing glasses, though Drachmir was never sure where the clean ones went. He certainly never got them. The gnoll took a sip of the wine as he examined the room again.

Drachmir wasn't here to get drunk, although at this rate it seemed to be the likeliest way of ending the evening. There were other bars, ones with clean glasses among other things, where he could do that. No, Drachmir came here because this bar was run by the Society of Sensation, the Sensates, a faction composed of people who search for experiences of all sorts, no matter what kind. That's why a sleazy and half-monstrous bar in the workman's ward was frequented by scions of the rich and powerful, looking for a unique experience on the seamy side of life. And Drachmir, tall, rangy, and evil-looking, quite qualified as a unique experience.

The gnoll took another sip of the red wine, looking so much like blood in the poor lighting of the bar, as he let his gaze wander the room. There was a Xaosman confusing some patrons with his deranged stories. And at another table were some young noblemen who were trying to look tough and mature, and probably searching for a brawl. And over there... was a handsome-looking human lady who seemed to be looking right at Drachmir.

Restraining the sly smile that formed on his lips, the gnoll returned a smoldering look at the woman. He liked what he saw. Multi-colored robes adorned a voluptuous body, and long blonde hair fell past her shoulders. More then that, however, Drachmir liked the determined and just a bit arrogant look in her eyes. This was a woman who was used to having her way.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, each appraising the other. He gazed at the loose gold bracelets on her wrists, at the way they accented her honey-colored hair, at the way the draping robes accented rather then concealed her figure. She looked at the tall, savage-seeming gnoll, the slightly rusted chain mail shirt, at his bare, well-muscled arms, and at the short, canine muzzle and large round ears. Both liked what they saw.

At some unspoken signal, the woman rose from her table like a reigning queen departing court and strode over to the bar, perching herself on the stool beside Drachmir.

"So my beautiful beast, what is your name?" She spoke coyly, her rich, throaty voice sending shivers of anticipation down the gnoll's spine. He could smell the wine on her breath and the expensive perfume she wore.

"Drachmir of the Blacksand" The gnoll answered with an incline of the head. "Mercenary" He lied. There was a certain way these things played out. If she wanted the thrill of danger, then Drachmir would be glad to oblige. His real job, one of tax collecting, was about as dangerous but a lot less glamorous.

"Really now..." The woman drew a finger across the tan fur of Drachmir's arm, pausing to make a little whorl in one of the dark spots that littered his hide. "And I am Lady Melinda. There now, we're acquainted." She kept making circles on the gnoll's arm.

Drachmir liked this woman.

They sat in a companionable silence for a while, neither one speaking, though the same thought was on both minds, at least if Drachmir was any judge. Lady Melinda sat and examined her new prize, then gripped his wrist in her hand. Their eyes met; the gnoll's predatory orange orbs and the noblewoman's lustrous blue eyes.

"Shall we retire?" A sultry smile graced her full, red lips. "Your place perhaps...?"

They rose, a sharp grin creasing Drachmir's muzzle as Melinda wrapped her arm around Drachmir's. She was a tall woman, but her head didn't quite reach the gnoll's shoulder. This fazed her not in the least, but only made her snuggle closer to him as the two left the bar.

Their destination wasn't far, a razor-vine overgrown building with a blacksmith's forge on the first floor and apartments above. For all that it was evening, and the district was not of the best, no one bothered them on their way. Having a tall, armored gnoll as an escort had its perks, though from the discreet shadows that seemed to follow them from the bar, Drachmir suspected Melinda wasn't quite as unguarded as it seemed at first glance.

They entered through a back door and up a flight of stairs, Drachmir's excitement growing with every step. This promised to be a very good night. It took only a little fumbling of keys to open the door to the gnoll's flat, and the two entered. The discreet shadows remained outside.

Melinda gripped Drachmir's muscular arm as she looked around the entry room of the apartment. It was clean, but sparse, the primary decoration being a shelf with a row of preserved heads. She let go of Drachmir to walk up to them, running a finger along the jawbone of one embalmed bariaur. Drachmir could smell the excitement on her, and now that they were away from the odors of the bar, he could even detect the warm, rich scent of her sex.

The noblewoman tore her gaze away from the gruesome trophies and back to Drachmir, a secret smile on her lips. Her exquisitely manicured hands reached for the belt at the front of her robes, and with a deft movement, untied it. A shrug of the shoulders sent the multitude of robes falling to the ground, and Melinda stood before Drachmir, utterly, gloriously naked.

"Fuck me, you magnificent beast."

Drachmir was mesmerized, his breathing short and shallow. The noblewoman was perhaps not as young as she might be, but she was achingly beautiful, voluptuous and delightfully curvy. The gnoll had an immediate desire to touch those large, round breasts, to bury his face in her pussy and breathe deeply, to...

A slow smile crossed Drachmir's muzzle.

Crossing the entry room in a few long strides, he picked up Melinda in one arm, the woman throwing her arms around his neck as the gnoll carried her to the bedroom, being careful not to scratch her on his chain mail. She was a very agreeable bundle to carry. Drachmir deposited her on the small bed, atop the soft linens and heavy coverlet, and pulled off his chain shirt, standing bare-chested in the waning daylight. He wasn't what one would call traditionally handsome, but his long, rangy body was hard as rock, and the hyena-like head seemed part and parcel of his savage charm. The bulge in his leather trousers said that one part of his body in particular was hard as rock.

Drachmir kneeled on the bed, between Melinda's wide-spread legs, and then came down atop her, propping himself up with one elbow to keep his weight off her. He brought his muzzle to just below her face, licking his long, canine tongue down her neck, then moving steadily southward.

His long tongue drew a spiral along each breast, efforts rewarded by the tightening of her nipples and by the appreciative moans Melinda made as his cool tongue moved across her skin. Drachmir didn't linger long, pulling back and then laying down between her legs. With languid strokes of the tongue, Drachmir kissed the inside of the noblewoman's thighs, alternating between each leg.

At last, and not a moment too soon for Melinda, the gnoll turned his attentions to her pussy, bringing cool relief to the warmness between her legs. His tongue was longer and more maneuverable than a human's, pushing deep inside her and licking the walls and causing waves of excitement to pulse through the lady's body. Melinda bit her lip and stifled a moan of ecstasy, as the pleasurable shudders built in increasing power and rate.

Drachmir sped up just a little, pressing his cold, black nose into the blonde triangle just above Melinda's pussy, his questing tongue probing deep into her. Finally, just when the noblewoman thought she could last no more, a potent orgasm ripped through her body. Her back arched, and for a moment she lost all sensation, before the powerful surge of pleasure raced through her body, blocking out everything else except for the coolness of Drachmir's tongue. Melinda let out a breathless gasp as the orgasm shuddered to a close, and the gnoll lifted his face, dexterous tongue cleaning the side of his muzzle as he looked at her with orange eyes.

"My wonderful, wonderful beast..." Melinda murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke the warm, soft fur of his ears. Drachmir smiled his hyena grin as he rose up off the bed to stand by it. Unbuckling his belt, he stepped out of his leather trousers, sliding them down past soft tan fur, and releasing his cock into the air.

Melinda's eyelashes fluttered for a moment. She knew that Drachmir was a big fellow, for the gnoll stood some two feet taller then her. But proportions being what they are, it meant he had a very large cock. Very large. Melinda licked her lips in anticipation, her tired pussy responding gamely with more warmth and wetness. This promised to be interesting.

The gnoll stooped, picking up Melinda by the waist despite her slightly startled "Ooof", and lay down on the bed, measuring his full length on it. His cock, fully aroused from his previous efforts, stood straight up, the precum glistening in the dim candle-light. With exquisite care, he lowered the noblewoman onto himself, impaling her on his mammoth cock, right into the wet, dripping pussy he had prepared for himself.

Melinda's eyes took on a slightly glazed look as she felt the gnoll's cock inside of her. The space between her thighs felt like it was on fire, the pulsing, throbbing cock seeming to fill her entire being. And this was only the relative tip of it.

Suddenly, Drachmir twitched his hips, and Melinda slid down a bit, a breathless little gasp erupting from her as more of that cock filled her. Then another twitch, and then another. Bit by bit, twitch by twitch, Melinda settled down, each movement of Drachmir's body sending a pulse of pleasure through the noblewoman. Finally, Melinda realized that all of the enormous, awe-inspiring cock was inside of her, and she was resting on her knees on either side of the gnoll's body, the cock balls-deep inside of her and Drachmir grinning like fool up at her.

For a moment, she just stayed there; feeling more delightfully full then she had ever been before. The self-confident, determined woman had disappeared in face of the utter pleasure Melinda had received, and now she was feeling just a touch stunned. She felt she was sure to burst. But after a moment, the noblewoman found she could still move, and slowly at first, but picking up speed, she began to ride the gnoll's cock, moving up and down along the thick shaft.

Drachmir just relaxed, enjoying the tight, clutching feel of Melinda's pussy as she rode up and down him, the noblewoman letting out a rhythmic gasp each time she came down on his cock. Reaching up, he fondled a breast in each hand, teasing the nipples with the claw tips of his hands, feeling them stiffen under his attentions.

It wasn't long before a second, even greater orgasm rushed through the noblewoman's body. Her entire body clenched, and then released in a flood of pure bliss. It was now, and only now, that Drachmir finally let himself go. Liquid heat raced through their conjoined bodies, a molten tide of satisfaction that left them exhausted and satisfied.

With a sigh, Melinda fell forward onto Drachmir's broad, soft-furred chest, still impaled on him, but too tired to care. She reached a hand to stroke the side of his muzzle, the tired grin on the gnoll's face radiating contentment as he wrapped his strong arms around her.

"My gorgeous, glorious beast..."

They slept.

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