I leave Bulra’s tent quite energized and refreshed. I close my eyes and stretch, letting myself enjoy the feeling of the sun on my skin. I start reminiscing about my very st encounter – especially the cuddling session afterwards. The Bobura – who fell asleep not that long ago – turned out to be a pretty interesting person: very passionate but timid, courageous but shy. All that sounds contradictory, but… I can see a reflection of myself in her. I can tell how liberated our session made her feel – and it reminds me of numerous first times I experienced past few weeks – heck! That was my first time! I had zero idea I would enjoy a BDSM py – as a domme, no less – but it turned out pretty well, as we both had a great time. However, I suspect I was able to perform so well only due to the influence of the Potion of Crity, as I’m pretty sure I would struggle with holding back in my normal, horny state.
Now that I think about it, I seem to have poor impulse control when it comes to sex – and it worries me a little. Should I really be fucking around so much? Or is it just a Human in me speaking? Nearly every Beastkin I’ve met so far has been pretty open sexually – to the point that Kolokon doesn’t even have a word simir to ‘slut’ with its negative connotation. And yet, I feel like they are better at controlling their impulses; Po, specifically, seems to py me like a fiddle – and I do like it – but she doesn't just jump on me with no warning. That being said… she did offer me sex at our first meeting – and she wasn’t the only one. Some – and no small number of them – even offered themselves for impregnation in the very first sentence they spoke to me!
...suddenly, a memory of me in heat resurfaces. My blood rushes to my cheeks as I feel a wave of shame so overwhelming, I’m unable to stop it. Even this fucking Potion is not enough – and it brought that memory to the surface! I shake my head; other Beastkin women showed much, much better self-control than I in the same state, after all. It is I who has a lot to learn – and I want to learn quickly; I don’t wont anyone to abuse my inability to hold back at the sight – and smell – of an attractive person… but that can wait until the effects of the Potion wear off. I can tell it wouldn’t help me train my willpower. Anyway, before I can do anything else, I need to calm my nerves and shame first. So I shake off all outside noise and other distractions, going back to the time I spent with Bulra – to rehash and meditate on what I learnt about her.
Turns out that her way to sexual self-discovery was… kinda comical – at least she presented it that way. According to her story, her partner slipped with her in an open carry position – at the same time falling on petite Witch… and plunging her cock painfully deep into her ass, deeper than anyone before and after (I felt a sting of pain just from hearing that). I addition, one of them – or both, that particur detail is a bit fuzzy in her memory – kicked a table, making tableware and other light objects fall off… right on the Beaverkin and her partner. The pain apparently multiplied her orgasm, elevating her to levels she did not believe were possible… and she’s been searching for that thrill all this time. With little success, as her tastes turn most Kin off; and why she’s got an occasional tryst every now and then – usually with outsiders – but that cannot satisfy her desires to the fullest. I was the first one she truly connected to, the first one to give her exactly what she wanted. I sigh, remembering the look of pure bliss on Bulra’s face and infatuation in her eyes. It looks like I picked another – after Nugund – lover with unusual interests, at least according to local standards.
I sigh and open eyes; as great as contempting my life and the world, the day is still young and I have a big problem: what am I going to do? Where to go? Bulra fell asleep not that long ago – she looked so peaceful and satisfied, I didn’t have a heart to wake her up. However, that means I’m now lost; and while there are people around here, I don’t know any of them. And while there are some adults – mostly elderly women – majority are children. And not only I have no experience of dealing with them – the bare thought of interacting with them while reeking of sex makes me extremely uncomfortable, even despite the Potion of Crity. But… I don’t need to talk to strangers – I can just smell someone I know and follow my nose! Immediately, I take a long whiff – and it appears to work perfectly as I recognize quite a few personal odours! I’ll just have to choose one of them…
I walk through the camp, following not just one – but multiple familiar scents, converging in close proximity to one another; most notably, there’s Olka – my young, witchy friend; her helpful, old teacher – Baba Tika; as well as Nadia of cn Toter – the shortstack Mousekin MILF. And they aren’t the only ones, as I recognise Elder Mara – the bovine Turontha I am yet to get properly introduced to, now being as good of a time as any – and Olka’s siblings. There are some other children I can connect to the people I know nearby, too.
As I continue my trek, I take the opportunity to observe the everyday life of the camp… although there isn’t much happening there and most folks around are either quite old or quite young. Now that I think about it, it makes quite a lot of sense: the key feature of this part seems to be the field hospital, no doubt a pce of great importance for the elderly. And while most of them are various Beastkin, I am still able to see how ageing affects different species.
From what I’ve seen so far, the ravages of time treat Humans pretty badly compared to Beastkin. Even the more Human-like Smoothkin appear to age more gracefully, with less wrinkles and gray hair; granted, I do not know their exact ages – but snippets of conversations here and there in addition to how they smell, was enough to give me a pretty solid idea. Oh – and the most shocking part: while every Human grandma was post-menopausal, most Beastkin were not; only the oldest – judging by their body odour and the reverence others addressed them with – among them were unable to bear children.
But I am not the only one observing others: I am observed too. And whispered about! Unsurprisingly, one of the main topics is the rumour about my divine ancestry. It seems that my connection to Arana, their goddess of the Hunt became an established fact; the Alchemist would be pleased. Interestingly, it seems that my unusual anatomy – my head and torso matching that of a Smoothkin or a Taurkin, while my limbs are akin to those of a Softkin – is generally deemed to be the key evidence. I take a mental note to ask Po about it ter.
I also feel many eyes assessing me – and I hear quite a lot of praise, both for my athletic looks and my beauty. I’m especially delighted about the former, as it appears to earn me some respect; I can feel my self-confidence growing. The tter, on the other hand, is a bit more problematic; it earns me some cat-calls from the horny grandmas – to be fair, quite a lot of them are still quite attractive themselves… and I have a bit of mixed feelings about that. I remember Baba Yaga roasting me for the ck of technique… and the insatiable old dies start looking intimidating with their mountains of experience they undoubtedly have – so I just ignore their advances.
As I continue my journey, I notice a drastic, rapid change in demographic… a change for worse – at least for me: the elderly get repced by the children. And to make matters worse – small children. As, it is something I knew would happen – kids have quite a distinct smell to them, even more so than the ancient ones – so I was able to prepare myself mentally for them. That doesn’t mean that I know how to deal with them – but luckily I don’t need to, as they keep their distance from me, too focused on the games they py. I’m thankful for that, as vast majority of them appears to be five years old at most – and they lisp so much I just cannot decipher their gibberish, nor can I pick up any interesting snippet of information from them. Their games also stay as enigmas to me; I can tell some of them seem to be pying house of some sort, others appear to emute the adult hunters and beasts... but that's the most I can gleam from them.
As, the gaggle of brats soon ends and I reach my destination. It seems to be a nursery, judging by the number of heavily pregnant women and mothers with their newborns around, as well as the fragrance of milk in the air. There’s also a slight smell of blood and other bodily fluids, as well as herbs mixed in. I look around and notice people I was looking for, conveniently converging in a single pce. And one of them – as if sensing my gaze – turns her head towards me.
“Kora!?” Olka says loudly in surprise; others follow her line of sight. I smile and wave at them.
And so, I approach them without hesitation.
HoraceH.Horney
