Mistress Amber, Ch. 4

 

Chapter 4: Birds and Bees, Part 2

 

The moment I step into the pool of silver, I’m overcome by a strange sense of multiplicity.

If it weren’t for that, I’d momentarily feel like Jesus Christ himself, given that while the pool is clearly full of liquid – albeit silvery, metallic stuff – I’m somehow able to stand atop its stillness. A shockwave ruptures through me, that peculiar awareness of the many, of being a single thing with ever so many parts, and any wittiness (which none of the nonhumans would understand anyway) immediately washed away.

‘Holy shit.’

It’s me who says it, but which one? It’s like being in a hall of mirrors, surrounded by reflections of myself that move in time with me. Yet randomness must kick in, because the appearance of unity promptly fades, leaving only a dim suggestion of “oneness” in the back of my thoughts. The dryads begin issuing orders to the throng of Peters, the manifold forms of myself all identical and yet clearly not of the same mind. When I command a limb to move, it does so – on myself and on several others – but the realisation hits that elsewhere, it’s not about me giving orders so much as it is about the others, some number of them, choosing to do the very same things as myself.

That is, of course, until the incredibly attractive daughters of Alannah of the Ancient Grove, herself maddeningly beautiful in her motherly fashion, start distracting those other selves and sending them off.

Sending them off to the biggest orgy I’ve ever contemplated, and half of the participants are myself.

The army of Peters marches to the central grove, to handle the lusty necessities of the bees and hornets, so unfairly denied the satiation usually provided by their monarchs. I’m one of the last to begin moving despite – or perhaps because of – the fact that I’m the original, the progenitor.

‘Who catches your fancy?’ Alannah says, strutting up beside me. She rests a warming hand atop my shoulder and gently guides me along after the host, led by her daughters, Sharlaya and Vindrelleth, and the twin nectar queens, Lamithan and Ashenath. ‘The mirror should’ve sensed the urgency, and created sufficient numbers, so it’s up to you who pursue. Does anyone catch your eye? I can name them for you, honey.’

It's strange, that despite possessing a shared and vast family, the thriae and vespids are each distinct individuals. They’re all exquisite, all beautiful, all shapely to the extreme. A bee drone would be nice, with their fat tits and womanly hips. Or perhaps a hornet praetor, that fusion of musculature and thick womanly curves? Long and short hair, lots of makeup and very little, revealing clothes and conservative ones…

…and little by little, pairings are made. Possible Peters linking arms or lips with these insectoid beauties and disappearing off into the trees, to sate the lusts of the poor abandoned creatures. I shouldn’t simply be staring, really. I shouldn’t simply be marvelling, because I know that something needs to be done, and if I want pick of the litter – because let’s be honest, these other Peters are just as inexperienced as me, and favour the “traditional” femininity among the hives – then I’d best act fast.

‘I want this one,’ a woman says, haughty and just the faintest bit cruel. ‘I’m not sharing him with you, you nectar-craving slut.’

‘Some Princess you are, Mylessa!’ another woman cries, softer, more elegant, but still edged with a kind of superiority. ‘As if I would want to share him with you.’

‘Watch your mouth, Phaltara. I outrank you.’

‘We’re both princesses, Mylessa. You don’t outrank me, though I am older than you, so–’

The crowd of selves breaks apart to reveal a deeply troubled Peter caught between a hornet and a bee, each of whom is about halfway to eight feet in height, and each of whom is unearthly in their beauty.

And each of whom, it’s clear on passing inspection, is a futanari.

‘Princesses,’ Alannah says, trotting forwards. ‘There are enough Peters for you to each have one. Just be patient, and everyone will be allocated a partner. Please, don’t fight over the poor thing between you.’

The two royal-blooded beauties, tall and elegant, their bodies excessive in voluptuousness – the bee possessing larger breasts and fatter hips, somewhat chubbier of form, while the hornet is more muscular, and possesses clear definition to her shape – growl at one another but otherwise fall quiet as the throng of myself spreads far and wide, all to the carnal chorus of the two queens continuing to rut like rabbits.

‘I…don’t think that’s true, Your Ladyship,’ the vespid princess – Mylessa? – says, a great deal more subtle than her prior rudeness. ‘I’ve counted, and Phaltara has counted, and…you’re one short.’

‘One short? But the mirror…’

Alannah trails off, face growing bothered as one of the thriae drones – the full-bodied beauties that make up the female caste of the bees – wanders forwards, alone, without a Peter. She looks dejected, sad as can be.

‘Y-our Ladyship,’ the drone says, sighing sweetly. ‘I…don’t think there’s enough to go around?’

As the last of the paired Peters disappears into the woodlands, all that’s left is myself and the quivering fellow between the two rowdy royals. I’m passingly aware that one of us is going to be on the receiving end of two Amazonian insecquine futanaris, but it’s going to end up in my hands, isn’t it? I don’t have to go with the princesses, after all. I mean, I’ll remember what happens after the fact, but…

…I really was hoping to play with Alannah’s male parts, wasn’t I?

‘You, me, go with the drone,’ I say, stepping forwards, pointing. ‘Princesses? I’ll take care of you both. At the same time.’

The thriae blushes, but the vespid glares. ‘I refuse to–’

‘You can’t refuse, because I’m doing you a favour.’ I walk up to her and snatch away the sole quaking Peter, pushing him towards the drone, who happily embraces him, and he her. Immediately it becomes impossible to ignore the height and strength of these two insectoid monster-girls, even the plusher one seeming particularly potent. A lump forms in my throat, which I struggle to swallow. Which will, I imagine, as I glance down their bodies and find their sizeable insectoid-equine members making bulges in their clothes, soon be dislodged by a very large inhuman penis or two. ‘I’ll do what you want, so let’s just go, okay? I’ll do everything that you want, within reason.’

Phaltara smiles warmly, and Mylessa grins viciously. They both take hold of a shoulder, the force of their grips speaking volumes as to their appetites. Though, funnily enough, I think I might be stronger than either of them?

‘Peter,’ Alannah says, calling to me. I turn to find her concerned, motherly and mystical in her effortless allure. ‘Are you sure? The mirror–’

‘I need to get used to this world,’ I say, dipping my head in respect. ‘This…this is going to be fine. Don’t worry about me.’

In fact, as I put a hand on the hips of each of the girls, provoking a shiver through each of them, I’m starting to think this won’t be fine. No, not fine at all. Fantastic, amazing, superb, but not merely fine. And as their silvery wings begin to beat, as the floor beneath me disappears in favour of the freedom of the air, I start to grin. Start to grin, and of course, to pop a boner.

 

We don’t fly for long, the pair of them tugging at me to go in either direction but ultimately deciding on some spot far from the clearing, where a glistening pool dominates a hollow of its own, ringed by impenetrable trees.

‘You’re either very brave, or very foolish,’ Mylessa says, releasing me. ‘Though knowing Phaltara, she’ll probably have more of a desire to act the girl than take what’s rightfully being offered her.’

‘As if you don’t like being mounted, Mylessa,’ Phaltara says, rolling her sapphire blue eyes. ‘We might as well enjoy his body to the fullest, right? Sate all of our appetites?’

The pair don’t immediately act, instead pulling away from me to study my form at a distance. Their smell, combined, lingers in my nostrils. God, I kind of want them in my mouth already. I don’t think anybody has smelt so good, except for maybe Alannah? But even then, it’s a close competition. The princesses smell like some magical merging of honey and sugar, fresh flowers and pure cleanliness, paired with the most vulgar and virile odour of mind-shattering sexiness. Like they embody, in a raw and terrible sense, sexuality itself.

I look towards the thriae princess, Phaltara, first. She’s in some sense easier on the eyes, though I don’t think she’s the more attractive of the pair, at least facially. Sweeter, yes. More traditionally beautiful. Softer features, a heart-shaped face, rounder at the cheeks and the chin and the nose. Her hair is a mane of spun gold that flows down past her shoulders, between her quartet of silvery insectoid wings that fold against her back, loose and straight but centred on a neat plaited braid. That her hips are so wide, that her breasts – four of them, one row above the other, I see on closer inspection – are so big, with such lovely long legs and a prodigiously fat pair of buttocks beneath that protruding abdominal tail-stinger, boggles the mind. What a ridiculous body, and she drapes it in a dress of white silk with a rigid style of silver chestplate – which initially fooled me into thinking her tits are the larger between the two noblewomen. At least by mass alone, rather than as individual breasts, they may yet be! Still, it feels as though such a plate is more fitting for her crotch, given that her flowing silk has done nothing to hide the fact that she’s been erect this entire flight.

Mylessa, by contrast, is distinctly sexier. Sharper features, a crueller yet more elegant expression with a faintly appealing gauntness to it. Not that I wouldn’t have sex with either of them, of course, but she’s more my type, maybe? Blood-red rubies for eyes, with that same shade of golden hair but shoulder-length, a luscious lock of it at any given time hiding the left half of her face. Her body is clad in armour, all plate metal that reminds me of Greek battle gear from the ancient past, with one of those skirts made up of tassels. Tassels that are very much disrupted by the presence of a particularly large cock, bigger even than Phaltara’s. Mylessa seems to have narrower hips – though even so, they’re broader than my shoulders by far, and wonderfully womanly – and a more muscular toned backside, but her breasts are larger, on an individual basis. Only two, as seems to be the way of things with hornets. I guess the “honey” of the bees might come from something different in this world.

‘I said I’ll do anything, and I mean it, but I can’t promise I’ll be all that good at certain things where technique matters.’ There’s no reason to delay things, so I pull off my shirt and throw it aside. ‘Just no stinging me, please. I mean, with things that aren’t your cocks. No actual stingers. I might add “no venom,” as well, but then this seems to be rapidly descending into a boat-load of double entendres…’

As I reach for the buckle of my belt, to release my newly enhanced “beast,” the princesses seem to subtly reverse roles. Mylessa, all cocky and feisty, turns as red as a strawberry, actually averting her eyes from the possibility of my exposed manhood. Whereas Phaltara is licking her lips, and groping at the sizeable shape which has left quite the damp patch at the front of her white silken dress.

‘What’s the matter with you two? We can’t exactly do this from a distance.’

‘I’ve never been with a man,’ Mylessa says, shying away from me. ‘It’s one thing to mount a drone or guardian, but you’re a male. And you’re a human.’

‘Is that a problem?’ I say.

The vespid princess frowns, looking particularly cute in the process. ‘Not exactly, b-ut–’

‘Lessa’s got herself a thing for humans,’ Phaltara says, grinning gorgeously. She reaches around the back of her chest, quickly loosening the breastplate which, as it begins to shift, confirms my four-titty suspicions. ‘She probably wants your babies.’

‘Tara, I will sting you!’

But whatever insults the pair trade, voices raised and tensions high with horniness, the world somewhat fades out of earshot. The moment Tara’s chestplate hits the grassy floor, I find myself wide-eyed and staring. God, they jiggle. Bounce. Wobble. Four breasts, each the size of my head, each the golden shade of her lustrous flesh with a pretty black halo surrounding the nipple, puffy and silky-smooth. Each nipple in turn faintly glistening, as if potentially having leaked, or being quite able to do so.

‘Do you want some honey?’ the bee says, scooping up her lower pair and in the process forcing up the upper set. A bundle of nerves clogs my throat, and I just about manage to gulp it down. ‘Well, human? It’s Peter, isn’t it?’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.’

Lessa grinds her teeth. ‘We’re about to fuck, idiot. Stare all you damn-well like.’

Her moodiness has an appeal to it, though it’s at odds with her behaviour. When I turn from the bee to the hornet, finding her wonderful womanly shape half-undressed, Princess Mylessa goes to the effort of covering her two – even bigger, at least individually – beautiful boobs with a hand across them, and another pushing down a massive glossy erection. The vespid, with my eyes upon her, frantically beats her elegant insectoid wings for a moment, creating a buzzing warning sound. Nerves, on both sides.

Well, not on Tara’s, given the way she casts everything aside without reservation.

‘I can’t speak for my lovely sister-in-title, Peter, but I know what I want.’

Princess Phaltara steps out of her white silk dress, bare and bodacious. Exposed to the elements, her exquisite body is erotic to the extreme, a feast for the eyes and doubtless the other senses as well, if her smell is anything to go by.

The thriae princess is a little chubby, and I love it. Her golden black-striped flesh continues across the entirety of her shape, though her midsection has an oval of solid gold without any black across it, running from the lowest point of her belly up to her collarbone. Her hips are wide and fat, forming cute rolls at the tops of their arches and where her slightly overhanging belly jiggles against them. Those same wonderful arches – inspiring a sense of motherliness, despite the fact that she can’t be much older than me – set the standard for the thickness of her thighs and calves.

But the thing which protrudes from between her legs is at odds with the rest of her. That word again comes to mind: insecquine. I mean, I’d heard of the fact that some demons have equid-style cocks, just like minotaurs do. And some of those rabbit and hare people, lacquines I think they call them?

Yet here, I suppose it makes at least that much more sense given that while the girls are distinctly insectoid, they’re clearly closer to mammals than Earth honey bees and hornets.

‘You said you’ll do anything, right?’ the thriae princess says, slowly approaching. ‘Anything we ask of you?’

I nod, cheeks hot as sin. ‘Yes. That’s what I said.’

For just a moment she seems intimidating, a touch too voracious. When the beautiful bee-girl sighs, her smile shifting from rapacious to slutty, my nerves ease up. ‘Mother doesn’t let me suck the guardian’s cocks, because apparently I’m noble and they’re not, but…Mother’s not here.’

Her horny hungriness makes a resurgence, but in a form I’m dramatically more comfortable with. The heavy-bodied bee-beauty takes me by the hand and leads me towards a stump by the side of a pool, all the while the hornet-girl watches nervously, still shielding as much of her body as she can manage.

Each woman is captivating in their own way, for Lessa’s shape lacks the chubbiness while retaining abundant femininity, adding plenty of well-defined muscles into the mix. As Tara sits me down atop the stump I find myself marvelling at the pseudo-chitinous aspects of the vespid, her forearms and lower legs clad in glistening metal-looking plate that doesn’t seem to be removable.

‘The hells are you staring at, human?’ Princess Mylessa says, glaring.

‘He’ll suck your cock, Lessa. Calm down.’ Tara rolls her eyes, dropping down onto her knees before me. To meet those sublime sapphires and marvel at her majesty, her sheer appeal, is to passingly lose myself. ‘Isn’t that right, Peter? You’re here to take good care of us.’

I nod, and wet my lips. I suppose it was going to happen at some point, right? ‘Yes. Yeah. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Are you serious?’ Lessa’s shyness seems to melt away, at least enough for her to remove her arms from her chest, in the process letting her enormous breasts sag sweetly and her big cock bounce up, in need of attention. ‘You’ll suck me off?’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Mother says…mother says royal seed is sacred, and I can’t spill it. And there’s no point getting a blowjob if I can’t cum, now is there?’

I find myself smirking, a little nervous, a lot excited. Wow, these girls are gorgeous. Lessa’s breasts have these puffy liquorice-black halos around their plump nipples, all bumpy and alluring. If she had any excess fat on her she might seem more like Tara, but instead she’s all sculpted muscle peeking through gold-and-black skin that has a distinctly more violent pattern to it compared to the bee’s simple streaks. And her cock, by a few inches, is the larger of the two. Both of them, unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, have heavy scrotums with four balls each, however.

‘Is that, um, your version of honey?’ I say.

Both orincesses chuckle, break into genuine laughter, as if I’ve just told some fabulous rib-tickler. Lessa keeps going for a while, sounding on the verge of cruelness, but Tara notices my lack of understanding and softens her giggling into a mere salacious smirk.

‘Vespids don’t make honey, silly,’ she says, giving my leg a stroke. ‘They’re just pollinators. And even in thriae, the honey comes from our breasts, not our balls.’

‘It’s just sperm, isn’t it?’

‘Does that disappoint you?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know? Is it tasty?’

Tara shakes her head, and giggles. ‘I couldn’t say. Mother doesn’t let me taste hers, or anyone else’s. I’m in the same boat as Lessa.’

‘We’re nothing alike,’ the vespid says, appearing in my periphery. To my great surprise, the towering hornet-girl drops down beside the horny honey bee. Only she’s a bit rougher in spreading my legs. ‘I’m not doing this because of you, okay? I’m just interested as well. And I hardly want this chubby cunt to show me up.’

Tara rolls her eyes. ‘See what I have to put up with? The oldest princesses of our peoples, each of us destined to become Queens in our own right, and I’m stuck with her.’

Lessa gives the thriae a shove, though it doesn’t seem hugely forceful. ‘Just shut up, and get his cock out, Tara. Let’s see what pathetic human maggot we’re working with.’

I do the honours for them, pulling open my trousers and freeing my newly improved would-be impregnator. And, realistically, I’m not quite as big as either of the insect girls. Tara must be at least sixteen inches, and Lessa perhaps twenty, but my foot-long length nonetheless widens eyes and provokes low lusty gasps.

‘Woah,’ Tara says. ‘And look at those big balls!’

‘No way is he packing that.’ Lessa shakes her head, but a sliver of black tongue nonetheless goes for her lips. ‘It’s…it must be fake. He did something. He–’

‘Alannah of the Ancient Grove fed me her milk,’ I say, struggling not to smirk. Both of them meet my gaze, one pair of rubies, one of sapphires. Clearly, such an admission carries a certain amount of weight to it. ‘What are those faces for?’

Lessa sinks a hand into my thigh, the chitinous plating proving dangerously sharp. Honestly, if not for Lana’s blessing, she might well cut the skin without effort. ‘If you don’t tell a soul…I’ll let you cum in my mouth.’

Tara, by contrast, happily wets her lips. ‘Tell everyone you like, I’ll swallow every one of those cute human sperms.’

‘Tara!’ Lessa swivels her innate glare upon the other princess. ‘You’re a noblewoman!’

‘Lessa, do you have any idea what he must be brewing in those balls?’ The look on the bee-girl’s face, the way she chews on her lip with faint fangs and reflexively buzzes her wings for half a heartbeat, makes my cock throb. Nobody’s ever spoken about my dick like these two. Arguably, not even Lana. ‘He outranks us. Even if he were to breed us, the Queens couldn’t complain. He’s only human in appearance. In actuality, he’s closer to Alannah than he is a mortal man.’

I’m not sure quite how it happens, but in a moment of boldness, I reach for Tara’s head. The beautiful bee doesn’t stop me from brushing at her silken hair, nor does she respond with anything beyond upbeat lustiness when I firm up my grip. I’d do the same to Lessa, of course, and perhaps will, but…one at a time.

‘Did you mean what you just said, Princess Phaltara?’

‘Tara’s fine,’ she says, with a cute wink. ‘And I did. Every word.’

‘So…if I urge your face down like this…’

She goes with it. Holy shit, I have some power. I have actual fucking power in this shithole of a world, and it’s all thanks to Alannah. By the grace of God, wherever the lazy bastard has been, with just the faintest coaxing, the golden-skinned thriae princess eagerly lets me guide her towards my throbbing thickness, her lips parting to readily accept my now-chunky crown into her luscious mouth.

‘Oh, fuck.’

Schlup. Schlep.

My first blowjob, ever, and it’s coming from some seven-foot-six or so voluptuous bee-woman, a fucking princess of all things. Her full black lips are plush around my pole, and her tongue is a thing of superb sensuality. Fuck, every little twist and twitch of it, the way it feels like molten pleasure, is sublime. Raw heat and wetness, masterfully attending to my manhood. And for the first time since arriving here, beyond the motherly ministrations of Alannah herself, I feel meaningful. I feel important.

‘Mhm-hm. Mumph.’

‘Good girl,’ I say, all of my lustiness bubbling to the surface. ‘Good princess.’

Tara responds by sucking in her cheeks more fiercely, and wiggling about that cute bee stinger-tail which plumply protrudes from above her backside, beneath her multifaceted wings.

Schlack. Schlup. Slurp.

‘No way are you calling me that,’ Lessa says, faintly teasing at my thigh with her taloned fingers. ‘I’m a fucking royal, human.’

I shrug, and smile. Confidence comes easily, now. I doubt this would hold if I were facing Amber or Jezzana, or the scary ladies, but here it’s like I’m just dealing with Lana’s servants. Here, we’re in a kind of subdivision of the wider world, where I’m not just some pet to pass around for Amber and her harem.

‘I guess that–ugh–Princess Phaltara is the superior article, isn’t she?’ I groan as the thriae masterfully works her mouth upon my pole, and to glance down is to find those brilliant blue eyes all alight and alive with lust and intense interest. ‘This big batch of–guh–blessed sperm I’m making is only for good girls, see?’

Lessa digs her fingers in but to my surprise, beyond a mere nip, it doesn’t actually hurt. She glances from her hand – and its lack of impact – to my face, and then to my cock and the girl sucking on it. ‘I…don’t you dare tell a soul about this!’

Schlep. Shlurp.

‘Oh, fuck.’

I can’t really be experiencing this, can I? It’s insane. It’s such a fucking trip, to have seemingly gone so far, to have escaped the clutches of Amber for so short a time and end up in this situation, instead. To think, I started the day worried I’d be choking on Jezzana’s cock, and instead, I’ve got two insectoid princesses orally worshipping my manhood, which itself has grown superbly sizeable on account of Alannah’s magics.

‘Mhm. Mumph.’

And it’s not as if I’m some useful substitute here. Not with how the two beautiful babes look up at me, one set of eyes fiery rubies, the other a pair of pristine sapphires. Two utterly exquisite women, using their wonderful mouths to treat me like a fucking king.

‘You two are–ughn–incredible,’ I say, gently stroking the heads of both at once. ‘Shit, this is amazing.’

Schluck. Schlep. Schplop.

Lessa pulls away from my nuts and rolls her eyes at me, attempting – and failing, because the flushness of those cheeks and the sluttiness of those eyes tell no fibs – to act disinterested, in opposition to the other princess, who is very much in her element here.

‘Limit the talk, or the deal’s off,’ the vespid says, gaze flicking between my own, my sucked-on shaft, and my spit-slicked balls. ‘Just…just let me work.’

‘Mhm. Fuck.’

She has no apparent qualms about me playing with her hair, all the same. In fact, the more I tangle my fingers through the spun gold which falls so stylishly from her scalp, the more those wings do a little micro-beat. Not to mention that it’s clear as crystal, from the way she applies those full womanly lips, weaves that tantalising tongue about around one testicle and then the other, that she’s really enjoying herself. Really enjoying me.

‘Mhm-hm. Mumph.’

And fuck, where to start with Tara? The bee princess sucks like an absolute champ, and I’ve half a mind to think that she’s clearly been getting some practice in, despite her claims to the contrary. If this is a virgin mouth, then…okay, admittedly, I’ve never had a blowjob before. But still, she just seems so confident. So naturally cool about the whole thing. Far more so than I imagine I’ll be, as and when I tend to their cocks.

‘Guh. Shit.’

Schlup. Slurp. Schlack.

It’s like having my cock in a cocoon of wonderful wetness, with the addition of a vulgarly vivacious tongue. The velvet interior of the bee-girl’s mouth is a shadow of Lana’s dryad coochie – but nymphs, I imagine, are quite the special case – but it’s soft as silk all the same, sucking tightly around every inch of shaft that it hungrily attends to. Phaltara effortlessly takes me deep into her mouth, all the way to what must be the entrance to her throat, though she never goes further than that. And perhaps a more dominant man might take control, but knowing my luck so far I’d just screw up.

No. Let the lovely ladies do what they’re going to do, and bask in the beauty of it.

Schlap. Schleck.

‘Hey, Tara,’ I say, somehow managing to sound not completely overwhelmed. ‘Give Lessa a turn, will you? It’s only fair.’

Schplop. The royal thriae pulls back, the seal of her mouth making a sweet sloppy sound as she leaves my cock exposed to the elements, a sense of sad coolness creeping over my saliva-glistening length. As if its rightful place, as I’ve now discovered, is to be embedded in someone else’s body.

‘Do I have to? She’ll probably just bite you, or choke on it.’

‘I absolutely will not,’ Lessa says, glaring at her rival princess. ‘I bet I’ll do a better job than you, honey-whore.’

‘Even if the human wants you to suck him off?’

Princess Mylessa visibly shivers, her cheeks growing hotter. ‘Fuck you. Fuck you long and fuck you hard. I’ll do what I damn well want.’

‘Oh, shit.’ God, there’s a alluring appeal to them fighting over this. ‘F-uck, girls.’

Lessa snatches my shaft away from Tara, bringing it her way. The fang-mouthed beautiful hornet-girl freezes up, hesitating awkwardly, and then persists in what she originally intended. The very moment my helmet pierces her luscious lips, her eyelids flutter and her wings do another cute micro-beat. ‘Mhm.’

‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ Tara says, stroking Lessa’s arm. ‘Imagine how good his seed tastes. All those cute little human sperms squirming around on your tongue.’

Mylessa shudders, pausing her ministrations. Even just sitting there across her tongue, my blessed bell-end feels kingly, resting atop the tempting titillation of her tastebuds. The subtle realisation that my cock must be leaking, oozing precum across her royal tongue, invokes a wonderful sense of pride.

‘Go on, Less.’ Tara puts her hand around the back of the hornet’s neck, applying a certain amount of filthy force. ‘Suck him off. Let a mere human load that noble mouth.’

Fuck, Mylessa is at once sweet and sexy as hell. Her eyelids flutter, all naughty and nervous, and she begins sucking again, slurping down my juices. Schlup. Schlurp. It’s intense, clumsy, not like Phaltara – who must be at least practising on something – but somehow all the more charming for it, especially paired with the sensual sexiness of the haughty hornet princess.

‘That’s it,’ I say, stroking through Lessa’s hair. ‘That’s a good princess. Your mouth is–guh–fucking incredible.’

Rather than resist, or reject, she introduces her tongue more violently into the mix. It swirls about, a tempest of titillation, sending sordid shivers down my length. I groan, and shudder, struck by the uncomfortable realisation that this might not last half so long as I’d like it to. It certainly doesn’t help that as I watch Tara’s urging of her fellow princess, and Lessa’s own sharply sublime beauty, I’ve got this powerful urge to feed them my genes.

Schlack. Schlurp.

‘Ughn. God, I can’t wait to–ugh–load your sexy fucking mouths.’

As exquisitely beautiful as the pair are, as out of my league as they feel – twenty-five-year-old virgin inadequacies hitting me strangely – the insectoid princesses seem, if anything, more enthused by the possibility of a creamy conclusion destined for their tastebuds. Tara hungrily runs her lips along the side of my shaft while Lessa enthusiastically tends to my helmet, slurping away with ravenousness.

Schlep. Schlup. Slurp.

‘Mhm-hm. Mumph.’

Their moans mingle together, those gorgeous gemstone eyes fluttering wildly, lust roaring through the minds of each futanari as they tend to me, as they watch me watching them. Shit, is this my life now? The start of something utterly satisfying, instead of being trapped in that fucking room writing for the uncaring Lasyrrix?

‘Ugh. You two…’

I wish I could last longer, and doubtless I’d have been utterly pathetic if not for Lana’s aid, but the sensation of a dirty development behind my crotch, a powerful urge to release, is slowly taking hold. My cock twitches and throbs against their lips, beneath the tantalising twisting of their tongues. Such wetness, such slickness, such opulent oral sex, all of it dedicated to me. And yes, I am going to be returning the favour shortly enough, but even so, this is a thing of majesty.

Schlack. Mwah. Schlap.

Their eyes sparkle all the brighter as I cup their faces with both my hands, relishing the silken softness of their flesh, and the warmth of their bodies. Princess Phaltara at least is hardly surprising, but Princess Mylessa is a particularly special joy, given her seeming disdain for me. But it’s hard to think that she’s anything other than madly attracted to me now, human though I may be, given the language that tongue is speaking to the swollen crown of my cock.

‘Argh. It’s…I’m…c-lose.’

Smooch. Mwah. Tara kisses the side of my pole and looks up at me with a grin, lips all sticky and sordid. ‘You should feed Lessa, Peter,’ the princess says, aflame with lust. ‘I want to see the look on her face when she tastes you.’

Lessa’s eyes take on a shade of low anger, flicking between my gaze and Tara’s, but she doesn’t stop herself from enjoying me. She doesn’t even slow down, despite the proclamation of imminence, and the perversions of her fellow princess. The red-eyed beauty meets my stare and she knows, implicitly, what’s about to happen. Knows what she’s about to taste, all across that hard-working tongue.

‘Ugh. Guh.’

We continue to stare into one another’s eyes, minds, as the first spurt launches forth. A hot and healthy splatter, much larger than I ever used to produce, sufficient to widen her eyes like saucers and instil a profound sense of appreciation for the man she’s tending to. What must be billions of sperm, augmented human swimmers, splatter her beautiful black tongue, and…she keeps sucking.

Schlup. Slurp.

Sucking, and hooding her eyes, cheeks flush and pleasure obvious. ‘Good girl,’ I say, stroking her jaw as she pulls out my release, glazing her tastebuds in the genes of a different – and distinctly non-royal – species. ‘Tara…suck my nuts. Help things–ugh–along.’

‘Yes, Daddy,’ the pervy princess says, winking and giggling, and happily dips low to slurp and nurse on my trembling loins, which rise and fall and pulsate in my loose sack. ‘Mhm. Mhaah.’

Each of them fondles my body, strokes at my thighs and hips, appreciating me in a manner that I’ve never experienced before. Alannah, I suppose again, but we didn’t exactly get a full session. Not like this, here, with these two tremendously tantalising noblewomen. It’s a brand-new experience, and one that thankfully is far from over. As one princess sucks sloppily on my balls, and the other continues to receive my load in her mouth, I find myself genuinely curious about what’s going to happen next.

‘Mhm.’

Lessa draws back from my cock, leaving it shiny with spit but without the slightest trace of spooge remaining. She chews my jism, an interesting look of concentration upon her pretty face, as if determining which particular quality of my cum she likes best. Tara gives my loins a parting kiss and lifts her head up from below, winking at me with those brilliant blues before turning to the other princess.

‘Going to share?’ the thriae says, raising a neat golden eyebrow. ‘It’s not as if that was originally all going to be for you, after all.’

Princess Mylessa, with cheeks ruby red, continues to swirl my seed about behind her lips, ultimately rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up beneath her chin. Which would work, as a method of spooge-sharing, if not for the definite designs of the other delicious dickgirl, who throws herself at the hornet babe.

Mwah. Schlup. ‘Mhm. Mhaah.’

Well, regardless of the fact that my cock has managed to remain hard despite releasing quite a quantity, the sight of the two insectoid beauties rolling about on the floor, practically devouring one another’s faces – I’d have expected the lustiness from Tara, obviously, but it seems that given a chance to snog her bee counterpart Lessa happily makes the most of things.

Fuck, and in the middle of their smooching, tongues clearly tasting one another’s mouths, my semen is being exchanged, being traded between the beauties. What a mad and marvellous thing.

‘Mhm. You taste lovely, Peter,’ Tara says, drawing away from her hornet counterpart. Her lips, sticky and glistening, smack together as she appreciates the memory of my flavour. ‘I’d ask for more, but…I want to enjoy myself next.’

‘Me too,’ Lessa says, rising to her feet in time with the bee-girl. ‘Be grateful that it happened, but know that this is a one-off. Unless you maybe do a really good job.’

Still sitting on the tree stump, the seven-and-a-half-foot monster-girls are at once especially tall and, well, especially exposed. Tara takes hold of her massive member by its sheathed base, slowly stroking herself, while Lessa simply allows her cock to swing freely, throbbing and tremendous. For the first time, my attention is solely devoted to their dicks, which are…again that word, insecquine.

Big, glossy black poles, with sheaths at their bases, and broader, semi-blunt tips. Not fully equid, but definitely in that direction. Each possesses a set of huge heavy hangers, the same obsidian shade as their cocks themselves.

Tara’s is the simpler, less intimidating of the two, silken smooth and with a neat cleft running vertically down the middle of her glans, the richly onyx tissue bulging on either side of the dividing line, an alluring aperture drooling glistening stickiness in the centre. Lessa’s, by contrast, is not only several inches longer and thicker, but its upper portion possesses a series of interesting ridges, and the band of black tissue which rings her triple-clefted helmet has several backwards facing nubs surrounding it.

‘You did say anything, Peter,’ Tara says, wandering slowly forwards. ‘You’re welcome to fuck me afterwards, but I’d quite like for you to return the favour first, given how lovely I’ve been so far.’

Lessa grunts. ‘Lovely doesn’t come into it. You’re going to suck me off, and then I’m going to fuck your arse. Simple as that.’ She does, however, momentarily look away. ‘I mean, if you’re okay with that. It wouldn’t be fun, otherwise.’

The sight of the two cocks, one sixteen inches, the other twenty, is rather intimidating. I mean, they’re impressive, and possess a peculiar sort of appeal to them, but sucking dick is something very new to me, and this is absolutely like jumping in at the deep end.

‘I…I’ve never done this before,’ I say, heart skipping the odd beat as they slowly approach, bringing their haze of musky sweetness with them. ‘Not that I won’t do it for you. Just that if it doesn’t go so well to start off with – especially there being two of you – that’s the reason.’

‘It’s okay.’ It’s Mylessa, weirdly enough, who says it. ‘You weren’t mean to me, so I suppose I don’t have to be mean to you, human.’

With a final stride she positions herself within reach of me, her cock looming overhead. Sitting on the stump won’t give me quite enough reach, given their statuesque sizes. The triple-segmented tip of her insecquine cock, its onyx opulence interestingly intense, fills the air with a potent honeyed saltiness, exotic and faintly saliva-inducing. Lessa’s is promptly joined by Tara’s, the pair of sizeable swords threatening me with what I can only hope is going to be one hell of a good time.

‘His name is Peter,’ Tara says, giving my head a gentle pat, making me feel small, but sending a weird bundle of fuzziness through my loins. ‘If he’s going to suck you dry, Lessa, you should at least be nice to him.’

The hornet princess sighs. ‘Sorry, Peter. Would you please drain my balls now?’

I find myself chuckling, awkwardly more than anything. ‘Sure. Um. Just a sec.’

It’s especially nerve-wracking to be beneath their watchful gazes, eyes set on me throughout my movements, their interest obvious but no less intimidating for it being so fundamentally charming in nature. I twist about and get my legs up onto the surface of the stump, climbing onto my knees and in the process giving myself ready access to the royal rods of the gorgeous girls.

Two gooey glistening crowns stare me in the face, and which do I start with? I suppose like some suck-slut I’ll be going between the two, sucking one and wanking the other, then switching and flipping the act. To start with, at least, I gingerly bring my hands to them.

‘Woah.’

The oral appreciation, for the moment, comes out of the mouth instead of going into it. I…don’t know what I was expecting? But each hand finds silken stiffness, sticky flesh that’s hot and lavish to the touch. The two members throb fiercely, and the women themselves grit their teeth and release low sighs and whines, from something so simple as being touched on their most sensitive of organs.

‘Ooh. Such soft hands,’ Tara says.

‘Ugh. It’s f-ine,’ Lessa says, sharpened teeth gritted. ‘Just get on with it, P-eter.’

Perhaps for the sake of the hornet’s ego, I should go with her first. Plus, it gets the weirder one out of the way. I’m sure they’ll both be lovely, but…

Mlep.

Princess Mylessa shivers sweetly as I press my tongue, for the very first time, against a penis. Against, of all penises, a twenty-inch wonder with a segmented glans and ridges upon its swollen shaft. And fuck me, I like it. I really like it.

‘Mhm.’

Schlep. Mlap.

‘Ughn. Shit.’

Lessa puts a firm taloned hand atop my head and clenches, holding me steady as I investigate her impressiveness, running my tastebuds across the tripartite flare that caps her cock. Her juices are sticky, syrupy, and extremely…sweet? Maybe a little salty, a touch bitter, but it’s a weird experience, finding something so honeyed coming from something that is, well, a dick.

‘Stroke me,’ Tara says, squeezing my shoulder. ‘Don’t give her all the loving, Peter. I know it’s a lot to ask, but fair is fair.’

Schl-fap. Schlup. Schl-fap. Slurp.

‘Mhm. That’s it. Good boy.’

‘Ugh. Fuck, that mouth…’

The secluded grove fills with the sordid sounds of sloppy sucking, sweet sighing, salacious straining. Before I know it I’ve widened my lips to take the vespid princess into my mouth proper, relishing the heat and hugeness of her mighty member, all the while teasing and tugging at Tara’s titan.

It’s weird, admittedly, sucking dick. Weird because the fire of her thickness is so alien, this foreign presence in my mouth that strains at my lips and pushes down my tongue, pulsating and squirming with lascivious liveliness, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. And maybe this is actually a good starting place, because as big as she is, as exotic as she is, Lessa is both beautiful and surprising gentle.

‘Ugh. More. Deeper. Let me–aahn–explore your mouth.’

She guides me sweetly, urges me to take inch after inch of her plentiful prick past my lips, and rewards me with the fantastic fusion of sweet pre-seed and the sounds of her wonderful voice straining as I deliver her profound pleasure. Her fat futanari phallus slides smoothly across my tongue, pokes at the entrance to my throat, and those weird ridges brush against my lips, adding irregular firmness to the lustrousness of her length.

Schl-fap. Schlup. Schl-fap. Schlurp. Schl-fap. Schleck.

‘Ooh. My t-urn, please!’ Phaltara says, massaging me with greater passion. ‘That looks wonderful. I can’t believe you’re being so good to us.’

My sealed lips, taut around Lessa’s leviathan, make a sloppy schplop when I pull them free of her, a sticky strand of spit and sweetness linking my mouth to the vespid’s virility. Funnily enough the hornet princess, despite being momentarily denied – though I promptly start to stroke her pole – seems to be completely smitten, regardless of the momentary switching of focus.

‘I did say I’d help, so I am.’ I can’t help but smile, finding this thing which seemed so troublesome in fact titillating beyond reason. To smirk smugly at the beautiful babes, knowing that there’s plenty of naughtiness left to enjoy together, seems the natural thing as I move my attention over to the shorter, simpler schlong. Mwah. Smooch. Mlap. ‘For the moment, my only purpose here is to please the two of you. And…I’m really happy to be here.’

‘Ooh. Mouths are–mhm–superb things, aren’t they?’

‘Mhm-hm. Mumph.’

Schl-fap. Schlack. Schl-fap. Slurp.

They switch up their grips, Lessa moving her talons to my other shoulder while Tara gently cups the back of my head, urging with more persistence than the hornet girl. Her cock’s juices possess the same syrupy sweetness, but with none of the salty bitterness. With the bee girl, it’s like sucking on some honey lollipop, albeit one that’s wonderfully warm and ripples rhythmically.

‘Ugh. Hands aren’t s-o bad either.’

It’s all starting to flow now. It helps that going from Lessa’s leviathan to Tara’s titan is a definite downgrade in complexity, for one. She’s a great deal easier to service because, being both smaller and less peculiar in her particulars, I can treat her to a more straightforward bobbing of my head. Taking her all the way up to the throat is about as much as feels comfortable, today at least, and the thriae princess doesn’t seem to mind that I stop short of really swallowing her sceptre.

‘Mhm. Mhm-hm.’

‘Ughn. Hell yes.’

‘Aahn. Wonderful.’

I’m aware, in passing, of their bodily responses. Not merely their dicks, but what they do with their hands, and how their big balls shudder and sway from the filthy force of my movements. Phaltara plays with her breasts, squeezing a nipple and cupping one massive mammary after another, drawing my aroused attention to the generous glory of her quartet of tremendous titties. Mylessa seems less concerned with her boobs, but continues to tease at the sheath of her shaft, helping me along in some sense, enjoying the contrast of my touch and her own.

Schl-fap. Schlup. Schl-fap. Schlap.

I switch back to focussing my attention on Lessa for a time, appreciating the shift in texture between their cocks. Where Tara’s member is some mixture of outer softness and inner rigidity, the vespid’s vigorous vastness is instead firm throughout, though nonetheless lustrous and lovely against my lips and tongue. Mylessa also has a tendency to grope forcibly at my head, and something about that is far more pleasing than it has any right to be. Though her control is crude, the constant gasping and sweet sighing distorting any sense of genuine dominance, it nonetheless feels wonderful to have her grope and toy with me.

‘Ooh. Mhm. Peter…’

‘Aahn. Ugh. He’s r-eally good at this.’

Honestly, it seems odd that they’d say such a thing, given that this is my first time. I suppose there’s the benefit of the fact that my mouth is, relatively, on the smaller side, and their cocks are definitely on the larger end of things. But then again, perhaps it’s a simple matter of sensitivity, and the pent-up monster-girls are prone to finding sweet release in the simplest of things.

Schl-fap. Schlep. Schl-fap. Schleck.

‘Mhm-hm. Mumph.’

What I do know, for certain, is that I was worried for nothing. At least with reference to beauties like the two insectoid princesses, I really, really like sucking dick. Big, fat, sweet-tasting, hot as hell rigid rods, just for me…

‘Mhm. Peter, I might…might be close,’ Tara says, stroking the side of my face while I tend to the hornet girl. ‘Do you mind if I…if I cum in your mouth?’

The suggestion sets my cheeks aflame. Admittedly, it seems the, um, natural conclusion to this. I like the princesses, like their bodies, like their dicks…but even though Princess Phaltara’s nuts are smaller than Princess Mylessa’s, they’re still fucking big, and her cock is still huge and heavy. There’s going to be an awful lot of semen, of sperm, shooting out of her flare-headed phallus right across my tongue. And if it’s unpleasant…

Schplop. ‘I’m a little scared,’ I say, glancing up at the bee beauty. ‘I just don’t want to offend you.’

Lessa, gritting her teeth, grunts and chuckles. ‘You won’t offend us by–ugh–guzzling down our seed, human. Peter, I mean. One taste and I’ll bet you’ll be our–aahn–on-call cocksucker.’

Tara rolls her eyes. ‘And here I was thinking you’d–mhm–never want to share with me.’

‘F-uck you, quad tits.’

‘I love you too, Lessa,’ Phaltara says, giggling. She sets her gaze upon me, gloriously gorgeous. ‘Would you be so kind, Peter? I’d–ooh–really appreciate it. I’ll let you c-um inside me, in return, if that’s of any interest.’

Schl-fap, schl-fap, schl-fap.

I stare at the two members, take in the beautiful bodies attached to them. Two curvaceous creatures, inhuman and exotic, insectoid and all the more interesting for it. Big boobs and fat hips and sweet smells. I guess the real question is: do I want to taste Princess Phaltara? And inevitably taste Princess Mylessa afterwards?

Do I want to make them happy, and face the interesting future presented by this potentially profoundly pleasant experience?

‘Mhm.’

Schluck. Slurp.

‘Aahn. G-ood boy,’ Tara says, moaning marvellously as I slobber anew on the end of her throbbing titan. ‘Th-ank you so, so m-uch. Mhm.’

‘I bet mine’s better, Peter.’ Mylessa strokes my cheek and keeps herself hard, and doubtless rather close to climax, as I tend to her thriae counterpart. ‘You’ll have to–ugh–taste us both, just so we know who’s got the better balls.’

I roll my eyes at her, and focus on the task at hand. Focus my energies on extracting the sordid substance from the trembling testicles of the bee-girl, out of her length of obsidian opulence. With my full attention on her, Tara doesn’t leave me waiting long at all. Her flare begins to swell all the wider, and I get her jammed at the front of my mouth, against the inside of my lips. Instinctually and actually, I want to taste her seed. Want to learn her most intimate and illicit of flavours.

‘Aahn. Th-ank you, Peter!’

It comes out in heavy, creamy, treacle-sticky spurts. The first splatters my tongue and the second drenches it, and the third simply covers the entire base of my mouth in the erotic exoticness of insecquine ejaculate. I’m struck by the raw foreign heat of it, the alien texture, but most of all, most prominently of all, the fact that it’s ever so delicious.

Like really, it’s nectar. Honey, fresh out of this bee-like beauty’s big black balls. Sperm? Sure, I guess. There’s not a single off-note, not the faintest hit of this being salty or bitter or anything other than syrup-sweet, fresh out of her heavy hangers.

Schl-fap. Schlup. Schl-fap. Schlurp.

‘Mhm-hm.’

‘Fuck, looks like he–ugh–likes what you’re brewing, Tara,’ Lessa says, massaging my shoulder. ‘Maybe we should ask Alannah if we can keep him as a pet.’

‘Ooh. L-essa, stop being m-ean.’

Tara continues to buck for a good while, flooding my mouth to the point that I’m forced to happily swallow her healthy helping of honey-flavoured dick milk. The charmingly creamy cum readily slides down my throat, warming my gullet on its way down towards my belly. I gulp and she gives me more, the productive pair between her legs definitely deserving some special loving the next time I get a chance to see her.

Thankfully, the quantity isn’t too insane. By the time she’s done, after what feels like a few minutes, my belly is noticeably warm but not straining at my shirt. Phaltara is already softening the moment she leaves my lips, the spent princess smiling ear to ear as she stumbles away from me, a touch unsteady on her feet.

As she sits herself down I waste no time tending to Lessa, who seems on the cusp of climax herself. The horny hornet gropes at my head with a deal more affection than prior, firm yet fond in the way she presses her sharp-tipped fingers through my hair.

‘Ugh. S-o close. G-ood cocksucker. Mhm. Aahn.’

Despite the vulgarity of her words, there’s a distinct allure to them. Two pretty princesses, each of them showing their interest in me in a very different fashion, but interested all the same. And it’s impossible to ignore the way that Princess Mylessa, with her insecquine flare trapped between my lips and oozing sticky sweetness, faint saltiness, desires me.

And impossible to ignore, as well, the way that I desire her.

Schlup. Slurp. ‘Mhm. Mumph.’

‘Guh. Here’s your fucking reward, human. Swallow my–ugh–noble pride!’

The vespid’s member quivers, quakes, swells, then spits. My eyes go wide in astonishment, because the first potent rope of her thick creamy load hits the back of my throat, forcibly expelled from her monstrous member. By some grace I don’t choke on the stuff, and thankfully the second and third spurts land upon less sensitive spots, though the sticky streams of molten hornet nectar are no less tremendous than the first.

‘That’s it, slut. Cocksucker. Mhm. Cumdump.’

Lessa’s load is very different from Tara’s, and suits her well. Tangier, distinctly more bestial, sexual, gluier and less sweet. Still honeyed, but a touch salty, bitter. Richer, less overtly syrupy. It seems to squirm across my tongue as I crudely chew on the thick congealed ropes and strings, the obvious presence of her virile sperm happily swimming about my mouth.

I’m forced to swallow, because there’s simply too much. It goes down with some difficulty, and of course, she eagerly produces more. My eyelids flutter from the vulgarity of it, from the intimacy of it. To glance up and meet those bloodred eyes, to get some inkling of the mind behind them, fills me with radically different notions that it did with Phaltara. Here, I’m submitting, I’m serving, I’m worshipping her. Not simply pleasuring, but acknowledging, adoring, honouring.

And fuck, it’s incredibly hot.

‘Ughn. Take every last–mhm–drop, human. That’s r-oyal seed, so don’t you dare waste any.’

‘Gods, Lessa, you’re such a freak,’ Tara says, staring at the both of us, coolly judging her hornet counterpart. ‘Be kinder! He’s been so–mhm–good to us.’

Still the busty bee-girl twitches, smiles stupidly, in the long throes of her pleasant orgasm. Mylessa merely rolls her eyes, content with looking down at me like I’m a serf, a slave, a toy for her use.

‘You like it, don’t you?’ she says, stroking my hair. ‘Being my–ugh–outlet. I bet you’ve never met a–guh–girl of my calibre before.’

As she spills another fat and delicious squirt of semen across my tongue, I’m struck by the undeniable truth of her words. I actually want her sperm, and it’s a bizarrely novel sensation. This thing I was so scared of, particularly with a dominant dickgirl, is actually extremely erotic. In passing, as the last of the hornet’s heavy load splatters across my tongue and she, too, stumbles away weak-kneed, I think back to Lana’s words. To my first fateful date, near or far, with Jezzana of Tidespring, Amazon Queen.

Maybe that, too, won’t be so bad…

‘F-uck.’ Lessa groans as she falls backwards, her plump stinger-clad abdomen softening her fall and leaving a mark in the grass beside the pool as she rolls onto her side, dominance gone and replaced by a serene smile. ‘You are…really pretty good…Peter.’

I suck in a breath of fresh air, strangely missing the humidity of their crotches, and the sexual sweetness of their loins. Sitting myself back on the tree stump I gaze at the sky and pat my swollen belly, the royal lineages of two perfect princesses squirming about in there, fated to be absorbed into me, to ultimately become salacious sustenance.

‘Are you done, then?’ I say, smirking with more than a little bit of smugness. Despite the stuffed natured of my stomach, Lana’s magic milk certainly did a number on me. My body seems a juggernaut among well-oiled machines, powerful without pause. ‘Here I was hoping to lose my anal virginity to a hornet girl, and see if I can’t breed a busty bee.’

Lessa groans, orgasm persisting. ‘A minute,’ she says. ‘Five tops.’

Tara however chews firmly on her lower lip, cheeks bright with lust. ‘You’d really try to do that? I’m not sure if I’d get in trouble or be praised, for carrying the children of a man blessed by Alannah of the Ancient Grove.’

I snort, and shrug. ‘Worth a shot, right? And hey, what’s her name mean, anyway? A title? A surname?’

Princess Phaltara rests back on her palms, relaxing against the poolside grasses. ‘I don’t know all of it, because it was generations ago, but Alannah used to be something of a goddess back in her homeworld. A queen among queens, some great sylvan empress, and her seat of power was the eponymous Ancient Grove.’ A sadness filters across her face, at war with the unrelenting joy born of having shot so much jism. ‘All of that’s gone, now. Invaded, torn into neat little packages, sold among the demons. A thousand years ago, or more.’

‘A thousand? How long has Anthexxia been a thing?’

‘Millions of years,’ Lessa says, rolling onto her front, stinger up in the air above her muscular buttocks as she dips her hands in the crystalline pool. ‘Wherever demons came from, they did so a long, long time ago. Your owner is Lasyrrix, right? She’s at least half a million years old. Amber’s around one-hundred-thousand. They’re immortal, practically impossible to kill permanently. I don’t like them, and don’t think they’re justified…but I’d be an apathetic pleasure seeker too if I had to exist for that long. A few hundred years will do me fine, thank you very much.’

I’ve never really considered the time side of things in this place. Agelessness, immortality, being so commonplace. Extreme lifespans, otherwise. And it gives all the more power to today’s events. To the possibility that I might have a better time here. Because fuck, the idea of spending an eternity in that room writing shitty smut stories, or at the mercy of someone I’m not so keen on, is hellish.

‘This is all giving me some kind of low-grade existential dread, so could we get back to the fucking?’ I say, finding my feet on the plushness of the grass. While Lessa is still clearly recuperating, Tara’s eyes widen with glistening interest. ‘You just going to lay there, Lessa?’

‘Princess Mylessa, to you, Peter,’ the hornet says, but she says it with a great deal more sweetness than previous remarks carried. ‘But I suppose, seeing as you’re going to be my new sex pet, you can get away with shortening my name.’

Phaltara blows a silent raspberry at the prone princess, who has no way to see the mischievous mockery. The bee-girl promptly climbs onto her knees, parallel to the pool, her backside facing the vespid. Her short abdomen-tail, with its deadly-looking black stinger, juts up into the air at just the right angle to allow for what seems to be a fairly straightforward act of penetration.

It's difficult not to stare at the beauty of her body, the more mysterious portion of it now on full show. Tara’s tushy consists of a pair of fat buns, that lovely shade of golden yellow, ringed by black but not striped. Between them is a tight-looking lustrous onyx orifice, and beneath that is a pair of rather puffy pussy lips, the same shade of darkness. In fact, that obsidian black seems to run from the area around her arsehole down to cock and balls, which hang heavily below the two tiny holes.

The thriae wiggles her hips from side to side, and chuckles warmly. ‘Well, Pete? I’m a woman of my word. I’m all yours, handsome.’

God bless this divinely-empowered erection of mine.

There’s not a lick of hesitation as I go to her, at least passingly familiar with this process now on account of Alannah’s lesson in love. The sublime sweet scents of the thriae princess, powerfully pleasant on the nose, grow thicker and richer as I step between her parted calves, assessing the enticing entrance awaiting me. Further away her black-lipped baby hole didn’t look half so sticky and sloppy as it does up close, very much in need of attention.

‘So, Tara, are you looking for this to be a one-off, or…?’

‘I’ve enjoyed myself so far,’ she says, smiling back at me, showing off pretty white teeth. ‘Go on, Pete. Don’t delay on that lazy hornet’s account.’

‘I’m not being lazy, jeez,’ Lessa says, somewhere behind me. She sighs loudly. ‘Give me a minute and I’ll make him the meat in our sandwich, all right? Fuck, I don’t know why it didn’t affect you so much.’

‘Oh, it did, but I’m not a wimp like you.’ Tara wiggles her bum again, the cute plumpness of her extended abdomen-tail managing to mix cuteness with danger. ‘Come on, Pete. Claim this pussy for yourself. First man to ever take me, honest.’

I lower myself without kneeling – she’s too tall for that, much bigger than me – and brush my cock against her slick tightness, its heat divine against my dick. The lustrousness of her lower lips, firm yet yielding as the head of my hog presses into them, sends chills down my back. In a moment of unsteadiness I scramble for support, getting my hands around her stinger-tail, finding its chunky cuteness surprisingly soft and plush, like a third bum-cheek.

‘Woah, your body’s interesting,’ I say, stabilising. ‘What happens if I get stung, though?’

‘If Alannah’s blessed you, I doubt it matters,’ Phaltara says. She lifts one of her legs and rubs against the side of one of mine. ‘Stop delaying! I want to get railed, Pete!’

She’s right, isn’t she? I’m delaying, getting caught up in nothing but needless curiosities. Using my hands to hug her plump protrusion, avoiding the jet-black stinger jutting towards my chest, I grind my glans up and down until her puffy pussy widens enough to allow me easy access. The lustrous firmness of the exterior gives way to velvety fire within, and an engulfing slipperiness that suckles with more intensity than either girl’s mouth.

‘Fuck. Ugh.’

Schlick-schlack.

I grunt as my inches disappear, the processing seeming far too easy. No rhythm, no rhyme, just a crude exploration of her coochie, sending electrifying jolts of ecstatic glee up my length, causing my balls to feel all strange.

‘Mhm. That’s a nice fat dick on you, you handsome thing.’

Tara’s words are encouragement distilled, and before I realise it I’ve managed to get myself all the way up to the hilt in her clearly upsized-innards. The cocoon of carnality dealt to my dick, some sweet sarcophagus gripping generously around every inch of me, provokes a fluttering of the heart and a shuddering of the body.

Schlick-schlack-thwap. Schlick-schlack-thwup.

I slowly move, just a few inches at a time, back and forth, driving my length into her and out of her, into her again, balls swinging against her humid heat. Every meaty collision between her lustrousness and my large loins is a tingle down the bones of the back, a burned-in beauty for the mind to recall forever onwards.

‘Faster, Pete,’ Tara says. ‘Fuck me like you–aah–mean it.’

With a growing grin I firm up my grip on her abdomen-tail, and then freeze up. Two sets of taloned fingers slide about my hips, and something hugely heavy pokes at the sensitive sphincter between my exposed cheeks. ‘Woah.’

‘Two in one,’ Princess Mylessa says, holding me steady. She chuckles, lusty, lovely. ‘I’ll be gentle. It’s your first time, right?’

‘Y-eah.’

‘Cool. I don’t want to put you off, and I can always be rougher next time.’ The horny hornet strokes my hips, rubs her thumbs against my lower back. ‘Hold still a moment, Tara. Let’s make this sandwich.’

‘Ughn. Argh.’

My grunt comes out low and lengthy as the more dominant of the dickgirls pokes her fat flare against my bum, that familiar silken smoothness pairing with her blunt rigid nubs to produce a coruscation of convulsions as her broad bulk pushes, with surprising ease, into my backdoor.

‘Guh. Shit, I’m glad you’re so sm-all. This is tight as a fucking vice.’

Schplup-schplop.

I’d buckle forwards, if not for her impressive might. Lessa holds me steady and begins to thrust, delving into my dirtiness, her intimidating insecquine length sliding effortlessly deeper, inch after illicit inch. Its huge heat, its interestingly irregular textures, send risqué ripples through my rear. But I can’t get caught up in the lazier part of this loveliness.

I move my own hips, holding tighter onto Tara. It takes every bit of strength in me to thrust, given that I’m completely crushed between two beautiful bodies, my most prominent erogenous zones assaulted by the twin glorious of lurid lance and perfect pussy. At the front, my cock is in heaven, and at the back, Lessa’s monster is on the right track for building a paradise of its own.

Schlick-schlack-thwap. Schplup-schplop-thwup.

‘Oh, God.’

‘Yes,’ Tara says, whining and writhing. ‘It’s even better with–aah–your extra forcefulness, Lessa!’

‘Ughn. Tight little human slut.’

We move as one, some chain of cocks in holes. I thrust into Phaltara and then Mylessa slams into me, her big quartet of enormous nuts swinging sweetly against my own proudly plump nuts, which in turn bounce against the tops of Tara’s large loins. The thriae squeezes sublimely around my length, her velvet innards squeeze and sloshing, muscles moving about to thoroughly milk me, while Lessa’s length swells as it spreads heat with its hugeness, pulsating and throbbing as it thoroughly fills me.

Schlick-schlack-thwap. Schplup-schplop-thwup.

All the noises mingle, merge into an orchestra of opulent sluttiness. From time to time, Lessa’s breasts bounce against the back of my head, and she’ll grind herself deep against me, all the way up to the hilt. From time to time, Tara will slam her hips back, driving both of us to moan and tremble, the combination of force and surprise doubtless causing me to tense up and clench tightly around the massive monster skewering me.

‘Guh. Fuck.’

I grunt, almost constantly. Tara’s pussy sucks down on my shaft, shifting and squeezing, and that alone would be a difficult deliciousness to contend with, but then I’ve got Lessa stuffing my sphincter with her truly tremendous titan, its blunt-stellated crown notable everywhere it shifts and the ridged textures of her rod beautifully bullying my innards.

Schlick-schlack-thwap. Schplup-schplop-thwup.

‘This is–mhm–divine,’ Phaltara says, her wings twitching. ‘I don’t want this to stop.’

‘Ughn. Me n-either,’ Mylessa says.

Yet as much as both women are superbly sexy, the three of us are clearly an inexperienced mess. Mylessa’s movements are firm, yet show a certain amount of reticence, as if wary – despite her words – to cause me discomfort. And Phaltara, for all of her eagerness, too rarely uses her own body to push back, caught up in carnal convulsions as the alluring assault upon mind and womanhood proves too tantalising to endure.

It's the beautiful bee who begins to buckle first. It becomes obvious from the convulsions in her coochie, its shivers seizing upon my shaft, enhancing the already euphoric. The cute creature tries her utmost, but with each passing moment she shudders all the fiercer, muscles quaking and stability dying a death.

‘Aahn. I’m gonna–’

When Tara squirts, soaking my nuts and tumbling forwards, it’s the beginning of the end. A chain reaction, even, as her slippery snatch clenches down and proceeds to milk my manhood of every last drop of seed, which comes out in a prodigious payload pairing with a stupefied grin upon my face. It certainly doesn’t help that the mental image of all of those little human soldiers, swimming into what must be a fantastically fertile body, potentiates the already profound.

‘Guh. You two are weaklings. Argh.’

But Lessa’s denouncement comes so ill-timed, as my own orgasm provokes a clenching of my cheeks and a squish of my sphincter, biting down on her bulky blackness. She hurriedly slides her hands around to the front of my belly and holds on tight, and begins releasing a wicked wave of warmth, of thick futanari baby batter, right into my no-longer virginal arse.

‘Ugh. Fuck. Yeah.’

We fall as one, collapsing onto the plush grasses, gasping for air. Thankfully Tara’s stinger proves unable to pierce my apparently supercharged skin, not even causing discomfort where it presses against me. Lessa holds me affectionately from behind, keeping herself hilted while she continues to spew, and I lovingly massage the thriae’s hips, stroking her back between her pretty insectoid wings, which periodically flutter.

For a long while, nobody says anything. Our breathing is out of time, our bodies steadily shuddering into peacefulness at their own paces. Neither my cock, nor Lessa’s, softens with anything like swiftness. Slowly but surely I begin to leak, and Tara as well, provoking a share bout of laughter.

And then, to my great and gleeful surprise, the two perfect princesses reposition the three of us so that I’m on my back against the grass and their heads on my chest, each affectionately stroking me, staring up at me with those gemstone gazes. Relaxation dawns, and all the world is that much brighter.

‘Thank you so much,’ Phaltara says. Mwah. She smooches my chest, inhales deeply of my scent. ‘You definitely need to come back here regularly. Seriously, I feel so at ease now.’

‘You’re a great lay,’ Mylessa says, not kissing, but happily nuzzling my other side. ‘I might even let you fuck me, next time. Handsome.’

I stroke their shoulders, and hold them close, but words are the last thing on my mind. To be here, to be relaxing in this glade…I don’t want it to end. Yet, little by little, I’m bombarded with new memories. Mirror selves, fading, bringing with them risqué recollections of fucking bee-girls, being fucked by hornet-girls, and every other permutation of the perverse.

It keeps me trembling, but thankfully I’m in good company. The princesses hold me, kiss me, hug me, squeeze me, as my brain deals with lives that weren’t ever really lived. And little by little, I grow weary, and fall at last into a deep and much needed reflective sleep.