This is adult material. If you're under the age of consent, leave. If you're afraid reading poorly-written descriptions of sexual behavior might scar your mind, don't blame me. I'm not paying your shrink bills. You're here because you want to be. Do not republish this material without my permission. Siring By Enkidu Chapters 1&2 (M/F, exhib.) 1. Welcome to Earth! What a strange dream. There I am lying in bed when the ceiling opens up. A faint flickering light comes through along with shuffling, inconsistent sounds of movement. There's a vapor sifting in, heavy and sweet-smelling, and then the dream ends. My first thought on waking up was that I must've knocked the pillow out of bed and my sheets felt different. A strange aftertaste lingered in my mouth and the dream, half-remembered, still nagged at me. Still, I was calm enough until I opened my eyes. Then I quickly bounced out of bed, suddenly as wide awake as if a bucket of water had been dropped on me. I had no idea what this room might be, but the one place I could be sure I was not was my little one-bedroom apartment. It seemed to be the inside of a stone building. The room was large enough to fit my apartment twice over and at least three meters high. There was daylight coming through some tall, thin windows across from the bed, and - suddenly my observations were interrupted by the heavy wooden door to my right creaking open. A white-bearded, slightly wrinkled face peeked in at the bed, then grinned seeing I was up and stepped inside. He was dressed in a long robe from head to foot, colored in a deep blue, and carrying a brown satchel. Seeing me back away from him in alarm, he halted, dropped the bag and raised his hands palm-outward in a universal peaceful gesture. "gala-bala-bum streeshknh?" he asked... and for some reason expected an answer. "Ummm..." I ventured, while looking for any other door than the one the crazy old guy in a blue dress was blocking. "Ah, nukka-bukka-sam-bam pashtrin-bala!" he waved me toward the bed with one hand while opening the bag on the floor with another. I gave up. Whatever was happening was just too strange. Lacking any idea whatsoever as to how to proceed (short of jumping out the window) I allowed my knees to buckle and sat back down on the edge of the bed, just noticing that instead of a polyester blend it seemed to be covered in a heavy natural fabric - linen? Gibbering on in his own language, the old man brought a few objects from the bag and stopped in front of me. Gesticulating at his ear then at my own, he held out what looked like a small acorn. Taking it from him and finding that, sure enough, it was an acorn, I stared in confusion. He repeated the earlier signals, gesturing at the fruit in my palm then pointing with his finger at his ear, then at me. No shit. "Stick your acorn in your own damn ear you old freak!" I felt like knocking him out then and there, my panic growing with every new oddity. He backed away slightly, bowed and raised his hands again to placate me, but then kept insisting until, finally, what the hell... I raised the stupid acorn to my ear and wedged it in. For a second nothing happened then a deafening, cracking sound and an immense pressure inside my ear sent me reeling backwards onto the bed. Surprisingly, there was very little pain from the shattering acorn, and I soon jumped back up ready to really knock the old bastard's teeth out this time. Far from thinking he'd done anything wrong, he was staring at me with an intent, expectant, predatory look on his face. He quickly raised one hand as I started towards him: "Wait! Wait, just wait a moment, will you? You are perhaps able to understand me now!" "What the hell!" I stopped in my tracks and stared blankly at him. "Aha! Good." He reached out and turned my head, peering into the ear he'd assaulted. "No bleeding, even; you're lucky." "What the hell is going on?" I finally burst out in sheer panic and bewilderment "Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you think you're doing to me and-" I kept going for a while. Mr. Wizard, as I finally realized I should call him, rolled his eyes at me, grabbed his little brown satchel and just sat down on the bed, looking at me with an alternately amused and bored expression. "Done?" He asked as I wound down "Well, good, because I couldn't understand a word you said. Don't look at me like that, and no, please don't start up again. Just listen, good man, there is an easy way to speed this up: trust me. Look, I haven't actually hurt you in any way yet, have I? And you must be curious about all this, so let us finish these preparations so we may have a simple conversation. Don't worry, this next part isn't nearly as bad." I gave up and accepted a little vial of green liquid and drank it down - horrible stuff, like medicinal alcohol combined with vomit and rancid oil - then washed it down with the flask of water he thoughtfully provided. At least it was better than a bomb in my ear. "Horrible stuff, I know." he continued "We've been doing this for a century now and never found any reliable way to make it taste like anything but sweat and paint-remover. Well, what are you waiting for, you can talk now." "W-what?" I stammered incredulously, still trying to get the taste of the potion out of my mouth. "Yes, what, very good. I suppose the `what' is the elixir you drank. Never mind the ingredients, best not to know" he shuddered. "So you can understand me now? How is that possible, is this, what, magic?" "Yes, of course. We're quite skilled here, far more advanced than the primitive curses and blessings you might be familiar with in your world. Why just in my own tower, I've..." He trailed off, staring at me staring at him. "Though from the look on your face, your world might not have much magic at all?" "Um, none, actually. I mean, we have stories about it, but-" "Oh, when will you people learn?" He started pacing the room in exasperation "Not everything can be solved with levers and wheels and, I mean, how does a civilization gain any footing at all without the elementary workings of..." He sighed, seeming to remember he was meant to be carrying on a conversation, and turned back to me. "But I beg your pardon. I am here to welcome you to our world, put to rest any questions you may have to which I possess answers, and finally to entreat your aid." I braced myself for bad news as he clasped his hands behind his back and stared into the distance as if he were delivering a lecture. "Welcome, good sir. My name is Classus. You are no longer in your own realm of existence. This is the city of Espera, the only one of its magnificence in this world. Please do not ask me the methods by which you were brought here - we cannot divulge our secrets. Suffice it to say it was done at great effort and material cost, for our need is dire. We wish to ask that you remain with us for some years. No need for alarm!" He quickly added, seeing my eyes widen. "We will not keep you here forcefully, and no matter the length of time you spend here, we can return you to the same moment in time in your own world. We also believe that the terms of your stay on Earth... or is that your term for your own world as well? Well, no matter, that seems to be the way of things - we believe the terms of your stay will be more than pleasant for you." I believe the words `shit-eating grin' were invented exactly for the old creep's expression in that second. "You may even grow to call it home. I trust the rest of our conversation would proceed more smoothly if I were to give you a short length of time to consider the matters of which we've already spoken?" "Yes, please...one question, though. Am I dreaming?" "If you were would it be such a terrible dream?" Asked the wizard with a slight smirk "And it only gets better. In any case, I will return in the morning. I shall also send some servants in to care for your needs until then. The subjects of this land are my own, and I offer you their use freely" he intoned as if this were a common good-bye, and as I was still chewing on that last remark, closed the door behind him. The panes of glass on the far wall were bathed in orange light. I let myself fall back on the bed and stared at the nice, peaceful ceiling for a while. 2. The Palace Servants It wasn't long before I heard a slow, insistent knock on the door. That at least was reassuring, suggesting I was being treated as a guest and not a prisoner. I walked over to the immense mass of wood and strained at the handle, slowly turning it open. Whatever Classus' wizardly power might amount to, the door was certainly mundane enough: a huge expanse of fresh wood, covered in what looked to be a bit of lacquer, bound here and there with strips of iron as wide as my palm. I lost all concern for it though, once I saw what was behind it. I found myself staring into the eyes of a tall, powerfully-built woman. Her complexion looked European, her long black hair was tied behind her back and she sported a golden armlet. Most striking, though, was her dress. She wore a golden collar around her neck. From it, all about her body, dangled dozens of fist-wide strips of lightweight red cloth which fell in a relaxed way to her only other accessory, a belt, looping once through it then dropping to below her knees. Maintaining eye contact, she kneeled, leaning toward me, and crossed her wrists palm-upwards below her chin, cupping her hands slightly. Her face was a bit squarish, with a high forehead. Though apparently young, it was impossible to guess her age. "Glad your presence, free your gifts, Sire. My name, if it please you, is Cara." She stood again slowly, a slick, muscular thigh momentarily parting the hanging red strips of fabric. "I am to bring you servants to see to your wishes tonight. May we begin by building a fire? The Sires Magister expect a chilling fog after midnight." She gestured at several younger girls behind her, all of which were carrying various bundles. "Umm, yes, thank you, yes of course." I struggled to maintain my composure, faced with her somewhat intimidating presence. At this, she smiled, gave a slight nod and stood aside gesturing to her companions. They filed past without saying a word, each glancing at me but seemingly afraid to look me in the eye. There were four of them, all dressed exactly like Cara. As they walked from the dim hallway to the sunset-lit room, my breath stopped in my throat: the dresses were their only clothing! The very first girl, a middle-eastern-looking, voluptuous young woman, was carrying a bucket of steaming water in front of her, leaning her shoulders back a bit to offset the weight. Her posture caused the strips of cloth to separate around her chest, letting the tops of two creamy mounds of flesh peek through, topped by large, dark aureoles. The next girl, stepping quickly in with a heavy bundle of wood, showed her bare hip, and as she and the third one bent to drop their burdens next to the fireplace, they offered glimpses of bare buttocks. I felt my face burning and turned away to stare at the window. I heard the girl with the bucket filling a wash-basin on a stand next to me as the last woman placed several object on the windowsill. "There is soap and a blade, Sire." Intoned Cara from the doorway. "Err, yes, thank you." "You are most gracious, Sire. There is also a mouth-brush." "Right. Good." I studiously kept my eyes fixed at the sky outside, my head swimming, trying not to fixate on the glimpses of flesh I'd gotten so far. "We do not know how long your trip has lasted, Sire." "Yes, of course." "May I have your servants bring you a bath, then?" She continued in an uncertain tone. "Yes, good, right." I answered mechanically, and before I realized what I'd said, she'd already sprung into action. "Sellie, Nilappe, bring more hot water. We will see to your meal, Sire. We have pheasant tonight, and also chickens and a lamb from the farms. There are potatoes and beans and peas with sauce. What is your desire?" This was getting surreal. I sheepishly answered "chicken and potatoes" and heard them finally march out of the room. I continued staring out the window, trying to calm myself by finding something familiar on which to rest my eyes. The countryside at least looked peaceful enough. It was a pastoral landscape, not quite as grungy as I knew a medieval town should be, yet still inescapably pre-industrial. I seemed to be in a fairly high tower. Classus probably wanted to show off, give me a room with a view. Or maybe keep me from hopping out. Below me, the palace grounds stretched to impressive scale, about ten levels down as I could make it and wide enough that it looked like a miniature city in itself. There were no defensive walls or arrow towers. Past it on all sides stretched rows of buildings, many identifiable as dwellings but others in alien configurations, some of these belching enough smoke to make me question my earlier assessment of this civilization as pre-industrial. A few animal sounds and human voices drifted up. Still, it was quiet, eerily so to an ear accustomed to the screech of an information-age city. Aside from the improbable scale of the palace and some oddly-colored smoke, there was little or no sign of magic. My meditations were interrupted by the sound of the door. Glancing around, I saw the first two young women from before wheeling in an oversized bucket of steaming water. As tempting as it was to try to catch a glimpse of bare flesh as they moved about, I forced myself to look away and busied myself with the basin of cooling water in front of me. I decided against trying to shave with the straight-razor just yet. The "mouth-brush" seemed straightforward enough and kept me busy while the two emptied the water into a large, recessed, smooth marble pit in one corner of the room. The fireplace was heating up by now and my panic was subsiding. I splashed some water on my face and waited. Cool and comfortable, with an equally comfortable roaring fire behind me. There was less and less chance that this would turn out to be a dream. Soon afterwards, I heard the tell-tale sound of wheels on stone and the girls giggling as they came in with the second half of the water. The giggling stopped abruptly as they entered, but they ventured to look me in the eye and smile this time around. They emptied the huge bucket again through a spigot in its side and nudged it back toward the door, loose cloth swishing as they walked. As I thought they were about to leave, they instead turned and pranced quickly toward me, leather sandals slapping the stone. They stopped a step or two in front of me and performed the same ritualized greeting Cara had used, kneeling and cupping their crossed, upturned palms below their chins as they looked me in the eye. They both had middle-eastern features and skin tone, dark wavy hair down to their shoulders, both more than a head shorter than me, one slightly thinner than the other. "Glad your presence, free your gifts, Sire." They both repeated, not quite in a chorus, grinning and barely restraining nervous giggles. "Please, get up" I said, trying not to try to get a glimpse of their cleavage between the shifting red layers of cloth. They rose quickly, pushing a few strands of hair out of their faces, bosoms shifting beneath their dresses. The one whose physique was a bit more filled out started talking again. As she stood, the layers of her dress had rearranged so as to leave one breast free, a heavy, perfectly rounded, delicious looking grapefruit topped by a large dark areola and a proud, tapered nipple. She didn't seem to mind my glance in the least bit (though she couldn't have missed it) and made no attempt to cover up again, smiling as she talked. "You are most gracious, Sire. My name, if it please you, is Sellie. Cara sends word that your meal will be sent up within the hour and begs your leave to eat at your table tonight." Now there is something which I have not mentioned as yet. At the time I was abducted by... humans... I was asleep. This means I was in my pajamas. Plain gray, long sleeves and pants, nice comfortable cotton blend. And no underwear. Lost in this new world, my clothing had not been a concern until now. As terrified as I'd been at first, even the dance of the seven veils wouldn't have gotten a rise out of me. Now, though, after relaxing a while, and under the constant influence of the servants' unusual attire, the girls' presence was no longer just bewildering and embarrassing, but arousing, and I wanted to get the conversation over with before my problem became visible. "Yes, Sellie, please tell her that would be... good." I swallowed and tried as best I could to ignore the lovely single tit begging to be squeezed in front of me, expecting them to leave. I could feel my bloodflow shifting around my genitals. They stood their ground, though, still smiling pleasantly and the slimmer one piped up. "If it please you, Sire, my name is Nilappe. Do you wish our service bathing?" She motioned gently with her head toward the marble tub in the corner. I froze. Were these two gorgeous creatures offering to strip me down and bathe me? I stared for a couple of seconds, my jaw going slack, then quickly shook my head and managed to say "No, thank you, I'll manage, I'm fine, really." This time it was I who caught them sneaking a peek down to my midsection. Their smiles broadened and Sellie insisted: "Most gracious, Sire, but there is time enough for leisure before your meal. Will you allow us to make your experience more... pleasant?" Her nimble tongue darted out to moisten her soft, full lips. "No, no, really, you can leave, it's alright." I swallowed again, watching their smiles fade a bit. Then they gave each other an encouraging look and Nilappe gave it one last try: "Then is there any other service you desire from us?" This time her eyes were staring pointedly at my crotch as she emphasized the word "desire". I didn't have to look down to know I was at least at half-mast. After getting turned down one last time, they nodded with a somewhat confused look on their faces and turned around, exiting the room in a ballet of red fabric and split-second glimpses of calves, thighs, backs, buttocks.... Why oh why hadn't I ordered a cold bath? I had been very tempted to take them up on what I hopefully assumed to be their very generous offer, but half a dozen fantasy stories of succubi and vampires made me opt for blue balls instead. Still, the hot water did a good deal to calm me down even though it cooled quickly against the stone, and I had more than enough time to bathe, get dressed again, and take stock of my surroundings. I discovered a stone plug (with my tail-bone) which let the water out of the tub. The palace did have its own drainage system. One of the benefits of magic, apparently, was iron-age indoor plumbing. A small table sat halfway between my bed and the fireplace. By the time my dinner knocked on the door, I had thrown another log or two on the fire, closed the windows after noting that the town had some sort of incandescent illumination that wasn't quite torches lining the streets, and still had enough time to kick myself when I remembered I had promised to eat with Cara. Still, no going back now. Maybe I could get some information out of her. I opened the door and Cara motioned to the other two girls from earlier, who proudly carried a tray of food, a clay jug of what I later discovered to be wine and some dining utensils in and lay the table. The cutlery consisted of an all-purpose knife and a two-pronged fork. Good. At least I wouldn't embarrass myself not knowing which implement to stick into the salad. I noticed none of them performed the ritualized greeting this time. Perhaps it was a one-time thing? Cara waited for the other two to close the door then unceremoniously sat down on one of the chairs, flipping the back half of her dress up as she did so, unconcerned about flashing a glimpse at her wide hips and muscular thighs. Oh god, now her bare bottom was all I could think about. To be that chair! I dropped down into my own seat and started grabbing some food, looking at my dining companion for cues as to manners. I had little to worry about. There was no grace to be said, no ceremony of any kind, just hearty food and presumably conversation. As for Cara herself, she certainly would've stood out in a Victorian drawing room even if you'd dressed her in a hoop-skirt instead of her enticing, shredded red dress. Wiping her mouth roughly with a dishrag and giving a little muffled belch, she slouched back and watched me expectantly. After a bit, I took the cue and attempted to strike up a conversation. "So, Cara... how much do you know about my... situation, here at the palace?" She nodded, as if expecting the question: "I am one of the magisters' aides in the laboratories and I sometimes clean the calling chamber. I know more than the other servants, even the other chieftesses in Espera" here she pointed to her golden armlet "so I am less surprised by your strange bearing than others, pardon my presumption, Sire." I stood aghast a bit, surprised that I seemed to finally be getting some straightforward information. "No, no, presume away. I would rather learn now than later" I said, trying and failing to copy the local diction. "How much do you know?" She raised an eyebrow then quickly composed herself. "I know that most men, at least the ones who do not enter our world as children, the Sires, are called across the void by magical means, from places which are not even of this world" she paused and gave me a searching look as I tried my best to keep a poker-face while not picturing her taut, muscular buttocks pressing against her chair. She spoke again. "I know that not all Sires come from the same place, and their customs can seem strange when they first enter our world. I know that they are chosen by magical means by a yearning their soul has for this world, though they may not know it, pardon me!" she seemed a bit alarmed at her irreverent slip of the tongue but I gave a reassuring nod and she continued: "I know that most if not all who are called choose to remain in our world and aid us rather than return to their own. A few leave as quickly as they arrive, but those who remain and found their own estates are our Sires thenceforth. And I know you were called only this morning and awoke not long before we first met. Master Classus welcomed you himself, and placed his servants at your disposal as is customary." I was flabbergasted. Estates? I was going to have an estate? As in, my own palace and my own serving girls in swishing red peek-a-boo dresses? "How many cities are there like this one?" "Like Espera? None that I know of..." She hesitated "Though many Sires gain much land in their bouts and sometimes build great towns, the Palace of the Magisterium is unequaled." A-ha, I thought, not quite as great as it seemed at first, though I suppose old Classus never promised any palaces. We spent the rest of the meal making small-talk. I had a thousand questions racing through my mind, but I also had had about as much novelty as I could take for one day. The chicken was juicy, the potatoes were well-seasoned, the wine was weak but plentiful, the fire was warm, and I was sitting across the table from a gorgeous, statuesque serving-girl. Chieftess. That was an important point. I questioned her on it and learned she was not originally from Espera, but had been somehow won in a contest by Classus a few years ago and shipped down, then given local ruling rights over most other servants. I was about to question her on what exactly the title "Sire" entailed, how leadership was decided, and a dozen other things but thought better of it. I had enough trouble with the mishmash of new ideas I already had. We finished the meal, rested a bit, commenting on nothing more portentous than what a nice evening it was, and then things got interesting. As I got up to stretch my legs a bit, I suddenly turned to find her behind me. She was pensively fingering the clasp on her collar with one hand and flicking the folds of a few strips of cloth about her stomach with the other. "Is there... any other service you would ask of me tonight?" I paused, the earlier moment with the two younger girls jumping instantly to mind. I didn't dare to assume that what she was offering... "No, Cara, thank you for everything, that'll be all" I answered, striving to sound masterful. "Most gracious" she said, though her smile seemed a bit forced. She trailed a finger upward through the folds of her dress, almost, almost to her breast. "I am not allowed to ask about the other worlds." And before I could think of answering that enigmatic statement, she added "I will send Sellie and Nilappe in to clear the table and provide any other service you wish. Rest well, Sire." She gave a slight bow of her head, turned and left. The two girls must have been waiting just outside the door. I heard Cara give them some rather lengthy, hushed instructions, then they entered and quickly made the mess on the table disappear, then wiped it down. I pretended to glance out the window, but it was full night already and only a few glimmering lights dotted the city. At some point, the girls brought in a small flask, wash-basin and a cloth and set them on a stand next to the bed. As they were taking out the last of the refuse, they paused by the door, glanced at me and faced each other. There followed a quick, complex sequence of hand gestures, first one, than the other. It looked like a sequential version of rock, paper, scissors. Finally, Sellie rolled her eyes, huffed, grabbed the trash and left, closing the door behind her. Nilappe turned and walked slowly toward me, grinning. I took a step forward then stopped, uncertain. She slowly turned until she was facing away from me, bent slightly and reached behind her grabbing handfuls of the strips of fabric which made up her `dress' at its hem then started to kneel. I swallowed as my cock sprang to life inside my flimsy pajama pants. "Umm, Nilappe, what are you..." My words froze in my throat. She knelt on the floor and bent forward, bringing her hands in front of her, and her skimpy attire with them, until she rested on all fours, the back of her robe splayed over her back or at her sides, her pert little ass thrust upwards. Her skin was a dark, grayish tan, her hips only slightly rounded, still girlish. Her vulva was surrounded by the darker shadow of her sparse pubes and slightly parted, revealing the pink of her inner lips. Even in the dim, flickering firelight, I could see she was already slightly aroused. She turned her head, her loose curls falling forward over her shoulder. "I ask your gifts, Sire" she mouthed, barely above a whisper, licking her lips "however you would give them." She lowered her head slightly but otherwise made no motion, her thighs still shamelessly parted, her pink, moist pussy and tiny anus framed by her taut ass-cheeks. I stared for half a minute, breathing heavily, my cock straining against my pants. I gulped air several times and finally managed a wavering, restrained inquiry. "You... want this? You want us to...?" She raised her head slightly at this, the motion of her upper body causing a single stretch of red silk to drape back down over her tailbone, covering her sex. She spoke anxiously. "Cara told us that you had not yet chosen any women for the night, and you have not taken any of us today and... and you seem ready, Sire" Her eyes were fixed now on the tent in my pants. "I only ask you to gift me with your touch, as any other woman would." She redressed herself, shifting her head forward, lifting her ass and reaching behind to flip the obstructing strip of cloth over her back again, once more displaying her privates for my consideration. She added, indecisively, speaking into the floor with her hair draped around her face: "I am not infertile, Sire, and I have some knowledge of giving pleasure in the other ways. I only ask whatever gifts you find fit for my body." "Yes" I whispered hoarsely, nonsensically, still only half-believing the sight before me. "Yes?" She asked again, a look of nervous anticipation on her lovely young features. "Yes." I repeated, more decisively. At this, she immediately gave a short girlish squee of delight and raised herself off the floor, turning toward me, the red folds barely concealing anything as they trembled with her agitation. Grinning from ear to ear, she flipped her hair out of the way, turning her head to one side, and unclasped her collar. Then loosening her belt, she brought the whole mass of fabric over her head and tossed it by the side of the bed. She stood proudly before me, anxiously rocking up onto the balls of her feet, straight as an arrow, hands at her side. Her breasts were tiny little mouthfuls topped by quickly stiffening, pointed nipples. A small patch of pubic hair stretched above her mound, still thin and sparse. Her whole body was slender, youthful. "How old are you?" "I counted my seventeenth year last month. You need not worry, I am not entirely untaught" Nilappe bubbled "How would you like me? Do you wish me to undress you? Do you wish anything brought here first?" "No, it's alright, we can-" I could not even begin to fathom her little outburst before her servile manners gave way to her excitement and she took two quick steps forward and dropped to her knees before me. She hesitated a bit at my clothing, but as she saw me lift my shirt, she quickly grabbed the elastic of my pants and brought it down past my cock, leaving it wobbling in front of her face. She giggled and grinned upwards at me, then helped me step out of my clothing. Reverently, she brought a hand up to caress the shaft, looked at me again as if for approval, then slowly peeled back the foreskin. She moved her hand to cradle my scrotum as she stood up and looked back at the bed. "Would you like me to suck on it first? Or should I stand on the bed so you can get behind me? Or... mph!" Her startled cry gave way to giggling as I leaned in to embrace her, then kissed her. She tasted fresh and clean, with a lingering aftertaste of spiced potates. Unsure at first, she soon overcame her surprise and brought her hands up between us, caressing my chest, then wrapping around me. I'm far from muscular, yet Nilappe seemed to delight in what little I had. I drew her in close, reveling in the feel of her hardened nipples against my skin before breaking the kiss. "No" I said "just lie down on the bed. I want you now." "Yessss!" she hissed, bouncing before me, and dove onto the sheets, her small bottom remaining upright for a hilarious moment before she flipped herself over and spread her legs. Her pussy spread fully, some of the innermost pubic hairs matted by vaginal fluid. She grinned at me as she tweaked one of her nipples while caressing her flat, almost concave stomach with her other hand. I knelt down between her legs and she reached up and brought me down for another kiss, my dick nesting in her pubes. I spread her hair out of the way and caressed her neck, her ears, her jaw as she held the back of my head, forcing my lips against hers until we were out of breath. Panting, she looked downwards between our bodies expectantly. I nodded at her and she grabbed hold of my cock and placed its head against her labia, moaning as she then reached both hands behind me and grabbed hold of my ass cheeks. I drove halfway into her in one push, thoughtlessly, causing her to whimper and gnash her teeth, bringing one hand up to beat her tiny fist against my shoulder. I suddenly stoped. "Sorry!" "No, ah, Sire" she fought to control herself "I only need... a moment. Please." "Yes" I quickly answered, though in all honesty it was taking a monumental effort to stay still inside her. Her young love canal was still very tight and even though I've only got an average dick, perhaps a bit thicker than most, her small body took some time to adjust. I could feel the muscles relax around me, allowing me deeper. Soon, she thrust her hips up, wordlessly begging me to continue. Tight or not, she was now dripping wet and we had no more problems. In a few thrusts, I could feel her dripping onto my balls as I rested against her pelvis. I looked at her questioningly and she smiled and nodded before closing her eyes and digging her fingers into my buttocks. We started humping in earnest, rapidly, breathlessly, desperately. It didn't last long. I didn't even think to ask about pregnancy. All the frustration of the previous day came roaring out of me. I grunted, moaned and dove my prick into her, coming so hard that I could feel each spurt of cum splattering inside her and ricocheting back. "Annngh!" she buried her face into my shoulder and thrust her hips rapidly against me, grinding her clit against my pubic bone. The spasming of her pussy as she came drove our combined juices out of her snatch, onto my balls and her ass. I lay on top of her for a while before pulling out. As I rolled off, she reached for the stand by the bed, wet the washcloth in the basin and wiped down my cock and balls, playfully giving it a kiss when she was done. She then went to work between her own legs and was still dabbing cum out of her cunt and giggling softly at herself by the time I drifted off. I did not sleep well. Nightmares. One was an alien abduction scenario. Another had female vampires luring me as prey. Others were vague angst revolving around STDs and paternity suits. Late at night I awoke to find Nilappe standing over me, stroking my erect cock. "Sire, would you like to take me again?" I smiled, despite myself. Nightmares or not, she looked delicious with her small, pointed breasts outlined by the low glow of the dying fireplace. "Tell you what, why don't you take me this time around?" She paused in confusion for a moment then grinned and stretched a leg over me, reaching down for my cock. She lowered herself onto me slowly, in one fluid motion that took about twenty seconds. I thought I'd blow another wad right then. She set a relaxed pace, first leaning down to rest on my chest as she slowly rocked backwards onto my cock, then rising to truly ride me , my hands roaming over her lean thighs and ass, up her bony back and gripping her erect nipples. Some leftover cum from earlier squelched deep inside her with every hard thrust. Finally, she stiffened and tightened her thighs, emitting a high-pitched moan as she orgasmed. "Did you not climax?" she asked half a minute later when she opened her eyes. "Not yet, no." "Oh" she sounded disappointed "is this pleasing to you?" "Yes, just keep going, I'm close. Deeper strokes. Faster now." She obeyed, applying herself fully to the endeavor. After another minute of the seventeen-year-old nymph stroking me with her slick, narrow insides, I came again. She repeated the earlier routine with the washcloth then snuggled up against me and we both fell asleep until morning.