Sarlene's Touch Ch. 22

Her emotions were confused; everything had seemed to happen so quickly. She had lost her brother, first to some unimaginable evil, and then to a sword blade,.. she didn't know whether to feel elated at her rescue, or saddened at the loss of a sibling, and the fear and revulsion that had driven her to flee was still strong. She shuddered, trying desperately not to cry, and then flung herself into the arms of the half-elf, who happened to be the nearest person to her.

An instant later, she wondered at her reaction. This man was no wererat, no member of her warren. Even if he were, seeking comfort in such a way was hardly the way her people normally behaved. She told herself that she was playing a part, acting the damsel in distress, ensuring that these adventurers would not be suspicious that she, too, was not what she appeared. Yet his firm muscular body felt warm beneath her hands, comforting in a way that even her warren-mates rarely were. When his arms went around her, patting her comfortingly, she could not deny how pleasant it felt.

"When you've quite finished, Almandar," said the dwarf, as the other three members of the party approached, "we do still have tunnels to explore."

"Can't you see the woman's distressed?" asked the half-elf, "anyway, we can't take her with us, or leave her like this."

"Besides," said the woman who had killed Myrek, "look at this," she waved a hand at the Hungry Swamp, "we won't get through this easily."

"Fireball it," suggested the dwarf.

"Too dangerous in an enclosed space," said the elven woman, "especially when you consider we're directly under a city. What if the roof collapsed? I would suggest hacking our way through, but some of those plants look like they might ooze poison or release deadly spores... we have seen that before, if you remember."

"So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest," said the human woman, who it was becoming clear that the others looked to as a kind of leader, "that we pull back for today, and think about another approach. At least we have some idea what is down here now. And take this woman back to the surface. What's your name, my dear?"

"Skirina," she told them, seeing no purpose in making up anything else, and too stressed to be able to come up with anything on the spur of the moment anyway.

"Well, Skirina, we're going to..."

"How do we know she's safe?" interrupted the gnome, speaking for the first time, and bringing the lantern that she was carrying closer. She looked suspicious, eyeing Skirina as if she thought she might recognise her, although the wererat could not recall ever having seen the small woman before. "I mean," continued the gnome, "we don't know why she was down here. Could even be... well, it could even be a fight between whoever lives down here. Where there's one wererat, there could be more. They live in packs or something, right? Like werewolves?"

Skirina did her best to look innocent, pressing her face into Almandar's shirt and clinging to him tightly. "No!" she said, the distress she had already suffered making her voice sound cracked and frightened. "He must have taken me down here. I don't even know where 'here' is!"

"I still say we make sure," insisted the gnome. Skirina shuddered and made a whimpering sound, earning another reassuring pat from Almandar. He at least seemed to have bought her act. Insofar as it was an act, anyway.

"If there was anything demonic in her, I could sense it," explained the woman, "Which I did for the wererat, incidentally. Although I can't say for sure whether that was just his lycanthropic nature or something worse. But... I hope you don't mind Skirina."

She reached out her hand, touching the bare skin of Skirina's cheek. The wererat flinched in response -- if this woman could detect lyncanthropes, she might just have escaped from one deadly fate only in order to fall into another.

"Nothing," said the woman, taking her hand away. "No evil magic, shapeshifting or otherwise. Is that good enough?"

Skirina realised that the potion that was currently preventing her from transforming had also just saved her life. She was, at least for the next forty eight hours, effectively human, even to the magical detection abilities of this stranger, who was surely a paladin. She barely managed to hide her grin of triumph by burying her face deeper into Almandar's tunic.

"Let's return to the surface, and decide what we do next."

As they began to move away, Almandar released her, giving her shoulder a tight squeeze. "Come with us," he said, "You're safe now."

This time she couldn't hide the look of relief. But that, of course, seemed natural enough.

──◊──

Skirina looked at herself in the mirror. She had, of course, been unable to provide a home address in the city, and had to resort to claiming to be a traveller. Unable to decide what else to do with her, the adventurers had provided her with this room at an inn while they went about their own business. The gnome -- Vardala -- still seemed suspicious, although Skirina could not quite fathom why, but the others seemed convinced enough.

She had been up above ground many times before, of course, although rarely to stay for long. She would have to retreat to her regular home soon, and rejoin the warren, but she could have a little fun first, taking advantage of the belief she was an innocent victim. She deserved it after her scare, and besides, she was a victim, if not quite the sort that they thought she was. She made a mental note to make her getaway before her abilities returned, and Tarissa detected her true nature.

They had gone off to find her some clothing, deciding they could hardly leave her in her shift. Indeed, that alone was a good enough reason not to make her escape just yet. She bounced on the bed, so much softer than her usual pallets in the underground passages. Then she got up and used a bowl of water to wash herself.

Considering where she lived, it was a battle to remain clean, although at least hot water was in plentiful supply. But here she could really take the time to do it, cleaning herself up so that she looked more like the typical humans of the surface world. Finishing her face, she pulled her shift off, throwing it to one side as she rinsed her legs and upper body.

That was when she caught herself looking in the mirror. She was, she knew, quite pretty for a wererat, their naturally sharp features in her case muted by large brown eyes, high cheekbones, and pale lips. She flipped her long fringe back, and adopted an expression she hoped looked vulnerable, wide eyes looking slightly mournful, lower lip trembling slightly. Properly cleaned up, she had an innocent face, the kind of looks that made men feel protective.

Her body was thin, looking a little undernourished, but not enough to be truly skinny. She was not, of course, particularly tall, which perhaps only increased her appearance of weakness. She ran her hands over her breasts, glad at least that they were full enough that nobody would think she were underage. Still, they were not large, and some men preferred them that way. Her nipples were small and brown, and she took the opportunity to run fluttering fingers over them, enjoying the brief sensation, while reflecting that no men in her experience had ever shown them much attention. Which was a pity.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Almandar's voice asking if he could come in. Skirina glanced over to her shift, but then changed her mind. If he was alone, she could have a game, she realised... one that would surely benefit her when she returned to the warren.

"Come in!" she called, turning to face the door, still dressed only in her panties.

"I brought..." said Almandar, stepping into the room, holding what looked to be a cheap grey dress. Seeing her, his eyes widened, and he turned away, though not, she felt sure, before getting a good look. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise... you should have said. I didn't want you to think that I..."

Before he could finish speaking, she rushed across the room, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you!" she cried, "the dress looks wonderful. I must find a way to repay you."

"No really, it's fine," he said, seeming a little embarrassed. Still, he pushed the door closed, before anyone else could see them, and put the dress down to one side. "You should try it on. I'll turn my back."

She stepped away from him, slightly puzzled by the way he was acting. Men, in her experience, lost little time in taking what they wanted. The few times she had had sex, it had been with one of the males from the warren, who had always shoved her up against the wall, hiked her skirt up and finished the deed quickly and roughly. Were humans -- or half-elves -- so different? Or was she just not his type?

She stepped back out of his arms, looking queryingly at him, practicing that trembling lower lip again. "Aren't I pretty?" she asked in a plaintive voice, simultaneously tweaking her left nipple.

He was looking at her now, eyes flicking between her face and her rounded breasts, watching her hands as one continued teasing her nipple, and the other ducked down to the cord waistband of her panties.

"No, it's not that," he said, "I just don't want you to think that I... that we did this for a reward. Certainly not like this. You don't have to do anything. You're free now. Safe."

"I don't want to be alone," she said, stepping forwards and embracing him again, "I need companionship right now, and... and a reminder that what that, uh, monster, wanted doesn't have to be bad. Please don't leave me."

She pressed her face into his tunic, and manoeuvred her right hand down towards his crotch. There was a bulge there, definitely. He was taller than any member of the warren, and she wondered if he would be bigger down there, too. There was one way to find out.

"If you're really sure that ..." he gulped as she thrust her hand into his trews, gripping his rapidly hardening erection. It was bigger, she discovered, although hardly out-sized. "Uh, yeah, you seem pretty sure," he said as she ran her dainty fingers along his cock.

She grinned, but perhaps not for the reason he suspected. He was a handsome man, there was no doubt about it, but the sex would only be a means to an end. She knew how it would be; he would climb on top of her, and a few thrusts later he would finish the act. She would respond to his roughness by biting him on the shoulder, which would doubtless annoy and upset him. But by then it would be too late -- he would be infected with lycanthropy, and she would, in due course, be able to introduce a very valuable new addition to the warren. It should certainly make up for the loss of Myrek.

That plan fixed in her head, she released him, and scampered back to the bed, leaping onto it, caressing the softness of the sheets with her hands. Still grinning, she pushed her panties down, and parted her thighs, giving him a good view as he undressed.

He was, she reflected, better built than any wererat, tall and in good physical shape. She admired his chest and back, broader than those she was used to, and the shape of his thighs as he pulled his trews down. She ran the fingers of one hand down over her belly, stroking the triangle of hair above her mound, making an encouraging, mewling sound as she did so.

Now Almandar was naked, striding towards the bed, his erect cock swaying as he moved. She might actually enjoy this a little, she thought, as he joined her on the bed. She expected him to head straight for her pussy, taking her urgently, but instead he took her head in his hands and kissed her.

Skirina had never really kissed anyone before. Or at least, not like this. His lips lingered, his tongue pressing against hers as she found herself responding eagerly. Her breasts pressed against his heavy chest as the kiss continued, occasionally breaking for air, his hands running through her long hair. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders, feeling the strength in them, the firm muscle of his flesh. His scent was manly, overpowering, not at all what she had expected.

They broke apart from the kiss, and Skirina brushed her hair away from her eyes, letting it fall across the pillow. She waited for the inevitable hard penetration, licking her lips and running her tongue over her teeth in preparation for her planned response. But instead, he kissed her throat, and then moved lower, leaving a series of soft pecks on her skin.

He reached her small breasts, kissing each of them in turn, starting at the outer edge and moving slowly in. She gasped as he approached her nipples, then mewled as he took one into his mouth, rubbing the tip with his tongue. It felt superb, something she had dreamed of, but that none of her previous partners had ever even come close to doing. She had intended simply to let him have his way, but she realised with surprise that she could feel a warm dampness growing between her legs. She was becoming highly aroused, enjoying this as much as he was, if not more.

"Please," she murmured, presenting him with the other breast, her nipples already harder than she thought they had ever been in her life. He obliged, sucking on it, as a hand moved down over her hips. "Oh, that's so good..." she said, surprising herself that such a statement had come unbidden, and was so truthful, besides.

She ran her hands over his shoulders again, looking down over his smooth back to the rising mound of his firm buttocks. She could not bite him from this position, but she didn't care, not so long as he continued in his ministrations.

He released her breasts, leaving her feeling empty. She wanted more! His mouth was moving lower, sliding over her narrow belly, and she raised herself up on her elbows to get a better look. Surely he wasn't going to...?

He nuzzled against the fine hair between her legs, and ran a finger along her pussy lips. They were wet and swollen, and his touch felt like a pleasurable fire. Her eyes, already large, widened further as he moved to kiss her pussy, pushing his tongue gently inside. She actually let out a squeak at that, before remembering to try and steady her voice -- though, fortunately, there were some limits to how you could sound with a human throat. Her hips bucked, and she pressed her head back against the pillow, gasping at the unexpected thrill.

She had never, in her whole life, felt anything so good as his tongue probing her folds, his kiss against her damp lips, his sucking action on the nub of her clit. She groaned, squirming against the sheets, as he grabbed her buttocks to steady himself, probing deeper. She watched his head moving, and gripped one of her breasts in her own hand, twisting the nipple, gritting her teeth to try not to make too much noise.

She threw a leg over his shoulder, all thought of her original plan forgotten. She just wanted him to continue sucking and licking her until she came. She allowed herself a moan of pure pleasure, squeezing her nipples in each hand as the delightful torture continued. She was desperately, achingly, close to what she knew would be the best orgasm of her life.

But then he stopped, moving up the bed to lie beside her again. They kissed again, she the instigator this time, as she ran her nimble fingers over every inch of his torso. She caressed his back, felt the shape of his pectorals, rubbed his nipples, probed his navel, feeling everywhere, wanting to savour him all. His cock rubbed against her thigh, and she gripped it, sliding down its length, teasing and tickling his scrotum, feeling the hairs brush against her dainty fingertips.

He rolled on top of her, which would have given her the perfect chance had she even remembered an ounce of her original purpose. But she didn't; she just wanted him inside her, wanted to feel if this would be as good as the foreplay.

"Yes... yes... I want you in me..." she murmured, wrapping her legs around his, raising her hips up to give him a better angle.

And he obliged. Not with the hard rapid thrusts of her former lovers, but slowly pushing himself in, inch by inch, eyes taking in every expression on her face. He groaned himself, once he was in, and slowly began moving, hips grinding against hers. She gripped his buttocks with one hand, feeling their motion as they adjusted to her own rhythm. Her other hand held onto his back, fingers digging into the flesh.

She had known he was larger than anyone she had met before, but she had never anticipated just how that would feel, filling every part of her aching pussy as he plunged in and out. She was panting rapidly, aware that he had already lasted longer than any of her previous lovers, and showed no signs of stopping.

She gripped his legs with her own, holding onto his buttocks as they continued their motion, trying to make them thrust ever deeper. As she found her passion rising ever higher, she mewled, letting out high-pitched gasps of pleasure, becoming ever more rapid as her peak approached.

She let herself go completely, pushing aside any hint of self-restraint, forgetting even who and what she really was. She all but screamed as the orgasm consumed her, arching her back, lifting them both off the bed as her legs thrashed and her fingers dug hard into his back. Almandar groaned loudly as he came too, the fluid flooding into her contracting cunt. And still he didn't stop, continuing to push into her until he had softened too much to carry on. The fire running through her body was overwhelming, better than anything she had ever felt before, and she surrendered fully to its glorious sensation.

Afterwards, as they lay beside each other, arms entwined, she recalled her original intention. But there was no way she could carry that out now, not after that. What a way to earn your freedom!