Losing his Spark

At first, the curse that was slowly corrupting and making the land barren felt more like a blessing to Neesta. It was an odd thing to think that the slow **** of a world would be a good thing in its own way. However, what happened to the world at large and the people that dwelled within it wasn't really something that he thought about often. He was but one Catfolk among many.

Yes, the race that gave him the feline ears and tail that matched his dark, shaggy hair also gave him another gift. Catfolk were one of the races least afflicted by the curse, or perhaps it even made them more virile. It's difficult to tell. The important part was that they were some of the most fertile of races before and stayed that way after. At least, of the civil races who aren't likely to keep you as a sex **** or worse after bedding you.

Neesta knows his traits well. His mother was a whore in some backwater town. Despite having all of the contraceptives possibly available to her, she still conceived him after bedding some unknown male catfolk. He was unwanted and mostly left to his own devices to grow up on the street. Once he became a teenager, his mother recognized that he no longer was some obnoxious kid harassing her at all times of the day and had become rather independent. Thus they became like friends and she taught him the art of seduction. It wasn't a loving family relationship, but it was something. It was this independent relationship that left him to explore his more perverse interests as he became an adult.

There was nothing that excited Neesta more than filling a fertile womb with his seed. This was why the magical affliction plaguing the land was his greatest blessing and worst of curses.

Once the full breadth of Yldia's curse began to set in, women who wanted children often attempted to find surrogates amongst the Catfolk. They were virile and they were horny. It led to many enjoyable nights for Neesta as some women became quite easy to seduce just due to his physical traits alone.

This continued for weeks until one day, he had an extraordinarily long threesome with two human women. They both wanted children and were trying desperately to milk his cock for all that it was worth. After a few hours of near constant sexual attention where the only breaks were during refractory periods, Neesta had a dreadful realization. This was becoming a chore!

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had always thought that it was the idea of getting a girl pregnant and starting a new life in her belly that had always turned him on and it did, but that wasn't the whole story. It was the risk itself that drove his fetish. These women were married to men who had knowledge of what they were doing. They were actively trying to get pregnant to start a family with their husbands. There was no risk in what they were doing. No variables were unknown.

Imagine a scenario where you enjoyed poker and were cursed to always know what everyone had at all times and also knew what cards were going to be dealt with. There was no risk, no thrill. Imagine a world where you really liked large breasts, but the world was cursed so that all of the women only had washboard chests. It just wouldn't be fun.

Sure, it probably wasn't the best of reasons to attempt a world-saving adventure, but that was the problem that Neesta Rucar currently had.

Well, that and the damnable map that he bought in the previous town with his few remaining coins that was not only off, but completely wrong! He sat on a large boulder near a four-way crossroads and had turned the piece of parchment upside down, sideways, and backward in a **** attempt to read it with no luck. With a shout, he finally gave up and ripped the thing in half before throwing a piece to the left and right of the path. Then he looked around for any kind of landmark or location that may denote the proper way to go. The direction to Southmarch.