Daphne Date 2, Part 6: Touching Each Other's Not-Cloacas

Harper

The academy was kind enough to prepare the guest lecturer quarters for the four of them to share for the night, and it is appreciated. While less opulent than the Master Suite, the bed is definitely big enough for the four of them, though Harper is a little concerned about Honey’s relative fragility. A bottle of wine is chilling in a service bucket. A fireplace crackles, the lovely scent of pine filling the room. Daphne goes over to bounce onto the bed, awaiting sexy times.

“Soooo, Beloved, what’s the plan tonight?”

Harper bites her lower lip a little. She is both excited and a little concerned about her quest for the night. Harper’s Orphanage Date Quest: What kind of season of Harem Hotel ends without a pregnancy? Get them preggers! Reward: 20 XP to distribute as you wish, plus 10 XP for each harem girl you impregnate. I mean, Honey is conducive to the idea, but would filling her spermatheca count? Can I even get Daphne pregnant in human mode? Would she want to carry our child like a human and not like a mermaid? If I get Daphne pregnant as a mermaid, she’d need to be in a tank for who knows how long? I need to talk to her about gestation time. And Aelene may end of being out of commission for quite a while. She may be fine for the rest of the game, but I don’t know how long we may be fighting The Hunger. Also, Mother Kaelis may not appreciate me knocking up her daughter before we are wed.

“Ms. O’Connor, are you okay? We have been making a strategy for optimal orgasms.” Honey declares, sounding way too deadpan, given the topic of conversation. A waft of something sweet is coming off of her, reminding Harper of what happened this morning in the stairwell, though it is more subdued.

“Oh, sorry, Honey. I was thinking.”

“Beloved, I want you to be thinking about sexy times touching each other’s not cloacas, not whatever thing you were fretting about.”

Aelene already has her reflection out. Harper feels Aelene and her reflection pressing a pair of those inflated breasts into the sea elf arms. “My betrothed, it’s time to relax. Shall we?” Aelene says in stereo. Harper finds herself in Daphne’s lap. Daphne twists Harper’s head to the side and leans over to give her beloved a kiss. Harper kisses back. By the time she turns to break the kiss, she feels something supple, yet hard pressed into her, almost like a giant fingernail? That sweet smell is much more prominent now.

Honey is leaning into Harper, her mandibles pulling Harper into position. Honey’s proboscis presses into Harper’s mouth, feeling way thicker and harder than a usual tongue. It is not quite as bad as the PP Harper mouth-fucked, but she wishes she was underwater right now to better breathe. Honey seems to be drinking her spit, which feels weird, in a good way. This would feel much better down there.

Honey lets go and withdraws, only for Aelene to press in, two identical sets of lips kissing her at once. Harper feels Aelene’s breath catch. Two identical tongues press in, going to war with Harper and each other in the sea elf’s mouth. Feints, counter-charges, parries. Harper gets dizzy from the tongue battle. By the time she pulls back, Harper is panting from lack of oxygen.

The smell from Honey is quite prominent now. The droning of her wings stronger, a thrumming beat filling the room. “Ms. O’Connor, I request you fill my spermatheca now, before I pounce upon you to breed you properly. Between your collective arousal and the primal need to refill my SP, I am just about out of restraint.”

With a snap, Harper summons her spectral penis from Penis Envy. The size is quite daunting. For the first time, she decides to change the form, shrinking it’s diameter down to something that looks manageable. The spectral penis elongates like one making a clay earthworm by rolling it out on a plate. The 15 inch penis as girthy as Harper’s fist turns into a 5 foot long monstrosity of a different sort. Honey is drooling, literally drooling.

“Please, use my entrance now. I neeeeeed my spermatheca filled.”

Harper brings the tip of her spectral penis to Honey’s entrance, already quivering and dripping with need. Honey starts thrusting on it immediately. Harper goes cross-eyed as Honey slides about 60 percent of the way down, until the tip of the penis bumps into Honey’s stinger. It feels like Harper is being squeezed and rubbed by a succulent warm wet embrace. It’s heavenly.

Daphne and Aelene hop in as well. Daphne starts to kiss and nibble on Harper’s ears. The sea elf winces slightly at the shark teeth, but it still feels more pleasant than painful. Aelene starts to grope the protrusions on Honey’s thorax, standing side by side with her. Honey starts to moan in a droning voice, “More, more, more!”

If Honey wants more, Harper will oblige. Harper focuses, starting to thrust the floating penis back and forth. Daphne starts to unequip the sea elf’s shirt, so she can better get at her beloved’s egg sacs. Harper brings Daphne’s webbed fingers to play with her nipples, moaning in Aquan, “<Don’t forget who you are playing with, Beloved.>”

“<I won’t.>”

“<Good.>” Harper is starting to get distracted. Daphne’s teasing is working. Honey’s thrusting is working too. Aelene’s teasing on Honey is also working, more on a visual level, but still appreciated. She needs to focus on maintaining the spell. The smell of Honey’s love drippings have saturated the air. The droning of her wings almost overpower her pleading shouts, “Need more! More! More! Breed me!”

When the dick finally explodes into a fountain of semen, Honey is ecstatic, greedily trying to hold her abdomen up and her entrance closed to keep as much of Harper’s seed stored inside of her. She happily buzzes down to the floor, content to take it easy as her spermatheca absorbs the penis spunk. Harper cums soon after.

Daphne: +2 VP (Brought Mistress to Orgasm [Eargasm])

Aelene: +4 XP (Ultimate Selfcest)

Harper leans into her beloved mermaid, panting. “Honey, you okay?”

“Spermatheca sooooo full! Thank you, Ms. O’Connor. Our offspring will be as numerous as they will be virile.” Honey drones, more than half out of it. “I will be more myself once I have a brief rest. You have brought me such a momentous gift. I must return the favor.”

Looking at the others, Harper rolls around to lay on the bed. “While Honey rests, what now?”

Daphne rolls on top of Harper. “Now, we play with each other’s not cloacas more directly. I want my statue with you, Beloved. Aelene, may we borrow your toy? I wanna try doggyfish style!”

Harper slips out from under her beloved mermaid and turns to her betrothed. “We’ll reset your double-bladed scimitar next. But, first, if you don’t mind.”

Aelene, already shrunk it down and lubing up an end of it, kneels down to insert it inside Harper. “My betrothed, remember to use enough lube.”

“I will. Sorry about this morning.”

“You were not feeling yourself. I understand. Now show me what I am missing.”

Harper approaches Daphne from behind, who has already taken a table top position. With a copious amount of lube, the sea elf slowly inserts the tip of Daphne’s end to the double dildo into Daphne’s sea cave. Harper pauses, waiting for permission. Daphne doesn’t exactly give it the way she expects. She thrusts her hips back, impaling herself on the dildo until she hits her cervix. Her moan in Aquan rocks Harper to the core, “<Ooooh, that feels like when you hit my oviduct in mermaid mode! Do it again!>”

The sea elf pulls back her hips, gripping onto her end of the dildo with her inner walls. She thrusts again, bumping into the mermaid’s cervix again. Daphne moans in pleasure. Harper grabs a couple of fistfuls of Daphne’s hair, then does it again. Daphne starts to grip her end, trying to hold the dildo onto her cervix for longer. The dragging motion that happens while Harper forgets to hold on feels so good. The thrusting devolves into a struggle to keep hold of the dildo, as Daphne just wants to grind her end into her A-spot and Harper really only gets stimulated from the feeling of motion. Eventually, Daphne starts to squeak in Dolphin. Harper sighs, and just presses the dildo in and starts to tease her clit while Daphne grinds onto her end.

“<Beloved, are you not enjoying yourself?>”

Harper sighs, “<You are having a good time and that’s okay.>”

Daphne growls, “<Pound me to oblivion, Beloved! I want our first time to be good for both of us!>”

With that, Harper starts to get into a rhythm. She starts slow, thrusting as deep as Daphne likes. As Daphne starts to follow along, Harper picks up the pace, never letting up on the depth. Daphne starts to moan, her bellows in Aquan vibrating through the dildo into Harper’s insides. Huh. That’s an idea. Harper starts to moan back, her Aquan seeming to have the same effect. Daphne picks up on it. Between the two of them, it becomes a different (actually fun) game: keep the Aquan bellows timed to maximize the vibrations. Harper is beaming by the time both of them cum. Daphne gets there first, but not by all that long.

Daphne: +10 VP (Brought Mistress to Orgasm [Doggy(fish) Style])

Harper slouches down onto Daphne’s cute little bottom, panting. When her beloved mermaid returns to reality, Daphne weakly asks, “That was fun, Beloved, but can you get off? You’re heavy.”

Harper slowly plops the dildo out, then lays on the bed beside her. Aelene takes the dildo and goes to clean it off. Honey stands, antennae still twitching. “Ms. O’Connor, I still appear to be aroused. Are you still able to go on? I would like another filling of my spermatheca.”

“Tapped out on magic for the night, Honey. And, I know you like being formal, but can you drop the Ms. O’Connor when we aren’t interacting in a professional manner?”

Honey pounces on top of Harper, stating, “Very well, Mate. Is that better?”

“Honestly, yes. Now, Honey, my beautiful blue mate, if you’d like a little more relief, I got one more in the tank. Would you like to try eating me out?”

Honey’s antennae twitch. Harper needs to learn how to read her better. Still Honey positions herself between Harper’s legs, her mandibles gently spreading the sea elf’s sea cave open, her proboscis already protracting. Harper sees Aelene summon her reflection again; the reflection walks over to Honey’s abdomen, preparing to use the dildo sword on the wasp-girl. Her original self sits beside Harper. “My betrothed, may I participate with you properly now? If Honey is to sample your lower lips, I wish to sample your upper ones.”

“Daphne hasn’t had a chance to ride my face. How about riding my fingers? You haven’t done that. Also, Honey, are you okay with Aelene resetting her scimitar with you?”

Honey talks as if her tongue is out, “Dat ish agreeable.”

Daphne happily positions her not-cloaca above Harper’s face. Aelene moves Harper’s hand to rest on sea elf stomach, then settles in on top of them. The two start to ride their respective parts of Harper, Daphne cooing over Harper’s magically enhanced tongue as Aelene surprising herself at enjoying Harper’s fingers. The two lean in and kiss.

Aelene: +2 VP (Kiss the Slut)

Daphne: +2 VP (Kiss the Slut)

Harper is enjoying the feeling as the two of them go at it. Then, the proboscis starts plunging inside her. It feels almost like a hard plastic toy, slowly spreading her apart. It feels pleasant. Honey slowly start bobbing in and out, which is also pleasant. The gentle buzzing of Honey adds some nice vibrations to the tube. Harper happily sighs into Daphne.

“Harper, my reflection is going to start resetting the dildo now,” Aelene warns.

Harper is glad she did. Honey’s ministrations turn wild, and increasing. Her wings start buzzing fast enough to move Daphne’s hair. She starts shoving her full body weight into her proboscis thrusts. And, most amazing of all, Honey starts sucking. The sensation of her trying to slurp up Harper’s inner walls brings the sea elf into delirium.

Which, of course, pushes Harper into going at Daphne and Aelene with everything she’s got. Fingers and tongue twist and curl, searching for those special spots in the mermaid and high elf to drive them to that frenzy of oncoming climaxes. When Daphne starts speaking like a filthy dolphin, Harper knows they are close.

It only takes a few more pumps of fingers, a few more thrusts of the tongue, for Harper’s two companions above to fall apart. Aelene cums first, squirting her love juices between Harper’s breasts. Daphne cums second, squirting down Harper’s throat, more or less. Harper cums third and it feels like there is a vacuum slurping up her sea elf spray from the inside. Finally, Honey cums last, slumping down and out of Harper’s sea cave. The double-bladed dildo clatters to the ground.

Aelene: +4 VP (Mistress Brought Slut to Orgasm [Good Vibrations 2], x2 bonus [first time contestant participant])

Aelene: +4 XP (Ultimate Selfcest)

Daphne: +4 (Mistress Brought Slut to Orgasm [Good Vibrations], x2 bonus [first time contestant participant])

Daphne and Aelene flop down on either side of Harper. Aelene is gasping, trying to catch her breath, already falling into reverie. Daphne is already starting a ****-grip cuddle into Harper’s arm, happily nuzzling into the sea elf’s breast. Harper brings her other hand to brush Daphne’s hair. Honey slowly buzzes up, then starts to grip into the headboard.

“Mate, I believe that I have discovered that I enjoy the sensation of objects inserted into my cloaca. Do you think Ms. Aelene would be amendable to revisiting this interaction.”

Harper chuckles and shakes her head. “Maybe? You’d have to ask her. By the way, do you sleep like that?”

“I do not sleep at all. I just stay still and think.”

Huh. Good to know. “See you in a few hours then. Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“I am fine, Mate. Thank you for your consideration.”

Nyadia Nekotiti

Tossed into her cage in the caravan, Nyadia slams into the back, the bars smacking hard into her flank. She grits her teeth, refusing to give the slavers that torment her so the satisfaction of hearing her squeal in pain. Once the flaps to the caravan close and the only light therein becomes the blue glow of her hair and stripes, the lazzorkat slowly stretches out as much as she can in the 4’ x 5’ x 2’ box of black iron rods.

She checks herself for wounds too painful just to sleep off. Yup. Broken ribs. Again. With a quick prayer, her paw, glowing with silvery light, presses into the injury. She hopes the slavers don’t see her do this. Despite how much they have riding on keeping their sex gladiatrix in good fighting condition, the slavers hate it when she takes care of herself. They usually beat her worse when they see her use her magic. Belt them.

A few seconds after she finishes, the flap opens again. One of the slavers steps in and slides her bowl of mealy gruel into her cage. As usual, half of it is their cum. They know how much she despises males, so they torment her like this. Try to **** her to savor their excretions. Belt them. She risks another prayer, another plea to the goddess she serves, and the gruel in the bowl shrinks to about a third of the volume it had, the cum and rot grubs removed. Either way, she will go hungry this night, like she does every night she can’t get a kill fighting a mindless beast in the arena for the entertainment of slaver scum. This way, she will at least have something in her stomach, even if it’s not what she actually needs to eat to survive. She scoops out the gruel with her paw. She hates the gritty feel of it between her fingers, but the slavers won’t risk letting her have a spoon. Not after that time she scooped out the eyes of a slaver with one. But, she eats.

Nyadia: 7 SP left

The glow of her hair and stripes dim, her exhaustion from a day of relentless training overwhelming her. She flings the wooden bowl out the caravan flap, to better ensure the slavers don’t bother her until morning. Then, in Sylvan, she prays, her song barely above a low growl. It’s not the language her goddess prefers, but she dare not pray in Elvish. Not where the slavers can hear. “<Oh, Argent Dancer, freer of slaves and crusher of evil-doers, grant me my vengeance. Let me taste the blood of my foes on my lips as I crush their throats in my jaws. And give me the strength to endure this torment until you grant me my justice.>”

And, for another night, her oath is kept. She does not know how much longer she can keep it. Believing in a Goddess of Freedom when you’ve be enslaved for so long is so hard. The nature of her oath has already shifted as more and more of her has been consumed by the anger in her heart. Before, back in the Coedwig o Oleuadau, where she swore her oath to the goddess to protect the wonderous forest of her people, to reflect the light of the trees, she was so serene. Now, her people enslaved for so long, that light has been snuffed out, replaced with the burning fire of wrathful retribution. It eats up her insides. Still, if she abandons the goddess completely, there would be none left to entreat her. Her battle-sisters are all dead. She must keep the faith.

Her eyes close. Another day survived. Shall I do so for another?

She dreams, like she often does, of her home before the slavers came. Of the trees, glowing with a myriad of colors with bioluminescence. Of streams of silver moonlight cutting through them at night, when the moon is full, looming large over the forest. Of her people, prowling among the trees, ever moving, ever on the hunt. Of pretty girls she met and played with and never saw again.

Of course, on this night, something is different. The trees, the stripes of her people, all glow silver. Nyadia reaches for her mace, knowing it’s not there; it’s only there in the arena. Yet, it’s here.

A voice sings out from above, her resonance vibrating the trees, “<You don’t need that weapon with me, my long-suffering servant.>”

The Goddess speaks? Has my vengeance finally come?

“<I bring you tidings of joy, my servant, for the day of your people’s freedom will be upon you soon. You next tournament will be the last you must suffer. Please, my servant, give up the anger in your heart. You never needed it. You certainly don’t need it now.>”

Nyadia is indignant at that, even though they were words from her Goddess; she growls back, “<That righteous hate kept me alive. My battle-sisters kept their mercy and they met their ruinous end from those slaver scum.>”

The Goddess’s tone shifts, more chiding, a little teasing, “<And that hate will kill you on the cusp of seeing what you most desire. The method of your people’s salvation is... unexpected. Not to spoil the surprise too much, but be prepared to surrender in the final round. And be prepared to love the one you surrender to.>”

Nyadia’s growl turns into a roar, reverberating almost as loud as the mocking goddess above, “<I will never stoop so low as to love a slaver, you hear me!>”

The Goddess’s rebuke is swift and absolute, “<Nor would I expect you to. The one I have prepared to free your people is no slaver. She serves me, in her own way, just as much as you do.>” Then, some kindness returning to her song, she adds, “<Now, sleep, my servant. Pleasant dreams.>”