(as the stories appear, there will be links added so check this post regularly or follow me!)
The air is filled with the smell of car exhaust and petrichor. You cough as the strong fragrances nip at your lungs. If the pollution doesn't kill you, rampant nicotine abuse by the citizens surely will.
Like a strange mockery of clouds, Zeppelins float across the dark sky. Some of them have commercials on their sides, while others remain voiceless - probably another way for the bourgeois to admire the exotic mundane lives below.
The metal flyover shakes dangerously as a high-velocity train shoots through the city. For a moment, the clanging drowns out the chatter around you. A few passers-by seem offended by the unwelcome interruption in their conversation and so they give the train a murderous scowl. When the machine disappears beyond the corner, the chitchat continues without a care.
Dirty water in a puddle splashes as a family of well-fed rats runs across the street. Their brown fur glistens like that of a show champion horse. A child points at the rodents but their parent only rolls their eyes. Some dogs bark and run after the would-be snack. The rats, however, are quicker than pinschers - squeezing through a sewer gate, they disappear into the maze of tunnels below the city.
In the middle of a traffic jam, a goblin leaves his car and behind to yell quite creative invectives at another driver. He almost drops his cigar angrily gesticulating. The reason for his outburst seems to be a kobold, who's too high on illegal snuff to comprehend the present moment. The furious goblin begins to yell even louder until he shoves the other driver. The kobold sways on his weak legs only to fall to the ground and immediately fall into drug-induced slumber. It will be hours before he wakes up. You want to watch the scene unfold when somebody bumps into you. The elegant dwarf quickly apologizes and continues walking while staring at something high in the sky. Curious, you follow his gaze:
Lomelia, arguably the most famous celebrity of the decade, is advertising a grape-flavoured soda. Her sinful beauty stares at the citizens from a large billboard hanging on the front of Amber Food&Drink headquarters tower. The longer you stare at the purple-haired diva, the more you're certain her teary, silver eyes are blinking... Sirens are banned from being in commercials, unfair advantage and all that noise. Lomelia is only half-siren - at least that's what her legal team claims. So if you think that her eyes on a billboard are moving, you're most definitely mistaken and there is not an ounce of siren magic involved.
Dawncrest is a city of dreams - both reveries and nightmares.
You shake yourself awake from those thoughts. Pondering the honey trap that is Dawncrest has left your mind blank. There was something you were supposed to do...
Where in Gods' name were you going?
-> Dawncrest University of Technology and Science, Department of Chemistry
Despite his rather imposing appearance, there is nothing scary about Professor Minghao. Unless you're confidently incorrect about science, that is. Being one of the nagas, he's faced his fair share of prejudice, which led him to confine himself to musty textbooks, chemical reagents and student papers to grade. And that, in turn, led the naga to become the youngest professor in the history of Dawncrest. He's very knowledgeable in many subjects... Sadly, Minghao tends to believe that no one will see him as a person first and a serpent second. He may be cold-blooded, yes, but his heart is definitely not cold. Fun science facts included!
-> Sabertooth Brewing
Elegant clothes, blind in one eye and a silver tongue - Yanu is a rakshasa that definitely stays in memory. The low lights of the bar often cascade off his sharp fangs but rarely because of a growl. Mixing complicated drinks, he always finds a moment to listen to the patrons' stories, share one of his own or do an agile trick with a bottle of alcohol. Yes, he is rather skilled with his hands... Sabertooth Brewing is situated in a not-so-good part of Dawncrest but once the local 'warlords' saw Yanu's Medal of Honour hanging on the wall, they began looking out for the rakshasa free of charge. Fancy a drink?
[The three don'ts of Sabertooth Brewing]
-> Sanguis Aurum, house of fashion
Sanguis Aurum is the key to the hearts of the elites - if they don't wear their clothes, they surely wish to. And there's nothing strange about that as Lysander, the owner of the company, prides himself in creating looks of the highest quality. Like most of his kind, he enjoys decadence and beauty. But even more than that, the vampire loves shameless self-love, the confidence of not being afraid to be seen as you are. "People will always bite you, darling," he said in one interview, "So you might as well bite back." Considering his rather prominent fangs, Lysander might just be the expert on biting. Wanna know what's the next big fashion trend?
-> Safren village, Eastern Monkgate Forest
A few miles past the borders of Dawncrest, lies a village called Safren. Its population consists of lumberjacks, farmers and hunters, who supply the city. Safren borders the Eastern Monkgate Forest - a place so strange, that even the most seasoned hunters refused to delve into it. If their prey ventures beyond the first moss-covered ruins, they begrudgingly let it go. The game belongs to Arkoth now: a wolf-headed god of hunting. Not much is known about the deity except for the fact that he stalks every soul that steps into his kingdom. Once a year, when the hunting season is about to begin, the villagers of Safren leave a human offering for Arkoth, so that the canine god keeps his servants, wolves and wargs, away from the settlement. Are you brave enough to let yourself be found by the wolf-god?
-> Bullhead Motors
The bullheaded mechanic is a strange one - there really is something grim about Nagrim. Whether it's his scruffy looks, sombre mood or a glistening look in his eyes, the mechanic always appears melancholic. Followed by the smell of motor oil and sweat, he finds joy in physical work. Usually, clients of the workshop might hear a bit of wise advice from Nagrim while he's fixing their vehicle. He's also happy to share some food for thought when asked, even spontaneously. When he's not returning old cars to their former glory, the taurus can be found in a run-down gym practising his boxing skills. Whether it's an engine, a weak punch or a broken heart, rumour has it that Nagrim can fix anything.
-> House of Magisters
"Infernal Magister" and "Prince of Hell" are titles to be proud of but Ezrach could do without them. It's not that he doesn't like the power, he's just fed up with the close-mindedness of other diplomats. He'd love to go back to what devils do best - roping desperate creatures into pacts that never end well for them. But he's the smallest of Lucifer's sons and so he's destined to complete whatever jobs his five brothers refuse to do. Although he's of a rather average physique and carries the humiliation of a chipped horn, Ezrach is far from being a failure or an outcast. In fact, thanks to his brilliant mind, he's leading a life of influence and comforts his siblings can not reach. Need someone to moderate your caucus?
-> Dawncrest Police Department
Dawncrest is not a nice city but Kenndar is not a nice man. Growing up in the gutters, he's learned the ins and outs of the demimonde. Life on the streets has left him with a lot of scars - both physical and mental. Difficult past and the typical drow grumpiness make the detective appear like a tortured character out of a noir movie. Kenndar expects no-nonsense, discipline and obedience, which didn't garner him much sympathy in the force. On the other hand, despite the avid reluctance of his co-workers, everyone respects him a great deal. Kenndar might be a grumpy boss but he sure is outstanding at his job, finding the culprit no matter the cost. Any insidious deeds you would like to confess?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
SUMMARY: You visit Yanu at work on a slow night. One thing leads to another and just when things get exciting, something both unpleasant and unexpected forces you to take a rain check on back-alley romps.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k
A smile brightens your face when you see the Sabertooth Brewing sign from across the street. The venue doesnât look like an appropriate place for a young lady without nefarious motives but at the same time, the entirety of the Copper Valley district doesnât appear so. Nonetheless, you couldnât think of a safer place to be. Whatever turf wars the former copper miners lead, they all agreed to omit Yanu and his business. It reached the point where some locals called the bar âthe embassyâ as itâs the only neutral ground in the neighbourhood.
The rough-looking miners curtly nod at you as you walk past them. A cloud of smoke and soot surrounds the two men. They always stand near the entrance of the locale but never go inside. Smoking one cigarette after another, their job must be to ensure that Yanu stays largely unbothered by the conflicts of Copper Valley. So far, theyâve been excellent at doing their duties.
You giggle quietly as you read the sign hanging on the front door:
Donât:
- fight
- spill drinks
- ask Qârill to make a mojito
A bell chimes when you push the door open. Low, yellow lights make the interior look cosy. Conversations held by the patrons sitting in booths and around small tables are drowned out by a trio playing a familiar swing tune. The smell of cigarette smoke fills your lungs and sticks to your clothes. Two waiters weave between tables and clients, faux joy plastered to their faces. One of them notices you - she gives you a quick wave and nods towards the long bar counter.
Although he is surrounded by bottles filled with colourful drinks, itâs impossible to overlook Yanu. Maybe itâs a general rule or perhaps itâs just your fatal affliction. Heâs wearing a shirt, a vest and a pair of tailored pants - exactly what one would expect a bartender to wear. Seemingly lost in thought, heâs just wiping some glasses but still, there is something unspeakably captivating about him. An aura that paints him as extraordinary and not just the way he is.
Yanu must notice you approaching out of the corner of his eye. When his gaze meets yours, his expression immediately changes. The deep, pink scar across his blind right eye gives the rakshasa a certain edge but even that isnât enough to hide the pure adoration painted all over his face. His blue iris stares at you lovingly until a shadow of mischief dances across Yanuâs features.
âMy, my, I donât recall having an appointment with a princess,â he speaks with pretend surprise.
âPrincesses donât make appointments,â you answer casually. Sitting on the high bar stool, youâre still significantly shorter than the rakshasa behind the counter. âThey just show up when they want to.â
He chuckles in a low voice. âGods bless them for that.â
Yanu leans on his forearms on the counter and hangs his head to let you kiss his cheek. Round, furry ears adorned with silver jewellery flutter as they brush against your hair. It tickles when his whiskers touch your face.Â
Feeling his breath against your skin, you donât have to speak loudly. âI hope Iâm not interrupting you.â
âYou,â he points an accusatory finger at you, âinterrupt my every coherent thought but Iâve learnt to enjoy that.â
Suddenly, your face gets hot. âIâm being serious, Yanu,â you say through flustered giggles. Even after all this time, itâs beyond easy for him to make you giddy.
âLikewise.â He winks at you before standing up straight. âSo how can I spoil a princessâs palate?â
âHm⌠I feel like elderberry.â
âDrunk all the time, feeling fine on elderberry wine*,â he sings while looking around for ingredients. The idea for a cocktail comes to him in an instant as befits a true connoisseur.
Yanu appears to be in a trance as he pours and mixes lemonade, vodka, St-Germain and some thyme. Every action is quick and decisive but never careless. Similarly, you are in a sort of trance, too - watching his white shirt and elegant black vest strain around the muscles of his arms. One day the seams of the garments might just let go but say, would it really be so bad?
The rakshasa pours elderflower syrup into the shaker. With a swift flick of his wrist, the shaker with your cocktail-to-be flips in the air. The metal cup makes a full circle only to be caught again by his hand, its content poured into a square drinking glass.
He looks at you in anticipation. Satisfaction is written all over his face. âPretty nice, right?â
But youâre in a bantering mood tonight. Not letting him see how in awe you truly are, you only raise your eyebrows. âYou have huge arms. It would be more impressive if you dropped that.â
Yanu sighs dramatically. He shakes his head and crosses his arms across his chest. If it wasnât for the glimmer of amusement in his good eye, youâd think heâs genuinely upset. âAnd here I thought that a lowlife like me could impress a princess.â
âWellâŚâ you ponder for a moment, âthere are a few things you could do with your hands that would be impressive.â
Something changes about his demeanour. The amusement stayed but now it is joined by some darkness that leaves an aftertaste of chocolates with brandy - warming and rejuvenatingly bittersweet.
âReally?â he asks in a low voice. His blue eye is watching you intensely, almost looking through you. âPray tell, what do you have in mind?â
Perhaps thereâs some perversion to it but you enjoy leaving his question unanswered for a while. Slowly, you sip on the drink, silently enjoying the perfectly balanced flavours. Not too sweet, not too sour. A true testimony of how well Yanu knows you. That passionate gaze of his never once leaves you, catching even the smallest of movements. A predator or a lover? - how similar these two can be.
âA princess shouldnât be saying such things out loud,â you finally say.
Yanu leans on his arms against the bar counter. With each exhale, his warm breath gently brushes against your face. Thereâs some intensity hidden under his casual demeanour as though if you were to play your cards right, he might just cause scandalous immodesty in full view of the clients.
âWill she share them away from prying ears?â More than a question, itâs a suggestion. One that you have neither the will nor the want to reject.
Feigning innocence, you shrug your shoulders. âPerhaps.â
The rakshasa only chuckles. He stands up straight and calls out to someone:
âHey, Qârill! Watch the bar for me for a bit, eh?â
The drow, equally well-dressed as Yanu, doesnât even look your way. Still cutting a lemon into pieces, he answers in a heavy accent, âGot you, boss.â
Not waiting for a sign or a word of encouragement, you get off the stool and walk towards the closer end of the counter. Ever the gentleman, Yanu lifts the wooden part, letting you go behind the bar. But thatâs not where the two of you are headed - you follow him through the back of the brewery, only to leave through the staff door.
The alley is dark and narrow. Something rattles in the skip filled with trash, probably a rat or two. In the distance, far away from where youâre standing, cars drive by every now and again. Muffled swing music played by the trio inside the bar sounds like an ambience of a faraway world.
Yanu pushes you against the wall. Heâs towering over you - if he so wished, he could effortlessly throw you over his shoulder and carry off. The bricks are cold against your back but soon you find them refreshing when compared to the warmth beaming from the rakshasa. His rough tongue slowly licks the side of your neck. Itâs strange, tickling and absolutely delightful.Â
One of his hands lifts your leg, resting your knee against his hips. Lustful greediness has him grabbing and groping whatever part of your thigh and ass.
Just when a pleased sigh leaves your lips, Yanu stops licking your neck and nuzzles it instead.
âSo how can I impress my princess?â he purrs into your ear.Â
Heâs not waiting for an answer - not really. Not when you feel his clothed erection grinding against your groin. You can almost feel your arousal dripping down your legs.
Yanuâs other hand slides into your underwear. His fingers, thick and furry, sensually rub your clit in circles. Breath hitches in your throat. âWould this impress her?â he asks.
âMaybe,â you manage to say between whimpers.
The rakshasa only hums in response. Itâs hard to say whether your answer satisfies him.
A loud moan escapes your lips as Yanu easily slips his fingers inside your pussy. The stretch is already more than enough for you. Slow strokes have him reaching deliciously deep inside you.
âYou look so pretty like this, princess.â
Looking for support, your hands grab his shoulders. It feels as though your abdomen is suddenly set on fire, your coherent thoughts swimming away and turning into static, if not disappearing completely. There is only Yanu, his quiet groans against your neck and his thick fingers hitting that perfect spot.
âFaster, please,â you squeal.
With utmost pleasure, he obliges immediately. It feels so good you could scream but not a sound leaves your agape mouth. If you werenât so lost in your pleasure, maybe youâd notice your legs quivering. Your grip on his shoulders only tightens, earning a chuckle from him.
âMy princess is going to come?â Yanu coos.
No answer comes from you, only another pathetic moan. Desperate to orgasm, you begin rubbing your clit. Itâs âallowedâ in these extraordinary circumstances. No doubt Yanuâs âI live to please youâ attitude will come back behind closed doors and between the white sheets of your bed.
Your vagina is clenching around his relentlessly thrusting fingers, your whole body begins shaking. A cry gets stuck in your throat. The wave of pleasure, the climax he so eagerly gives you, washes over you more like a tsunami than a wave. It drowns out your thoughts, your breathing, your strength. Fortunately, Yanu has a tight grip around your leg, keeping you standing straight. Heâs still sliding in and out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm.
Finally, he slips his fingers out of you. Youâre about to say something, thank him or praise him, when a loud crash resounds from inside the bar. Someoneâs yelling but the voice is too muffled for either of you to understand whatâs the matter.
Yanu and you exchange a look of both confusion and worry. Then, as though lovers know something akin to telepathy, the two of you chuckle.
âMojito,â you say simultaneously.
When your laughter, contrary to the row next door, dies down, you let out a sigh. âGuess weâll have to postpone our little escapade.âÂ
Yanu brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. Heâs a cheeky man, staring right into your eyes while doing something so indecent. âIâm fine with that,â comes the answer.
But you can play that game, too.
Low groan rumbles inside his chest when your hand teasingly rubs his prominent bulge. He clenches his fists, doing his utmost best to keep himself collected. You could so easily make him fail at thatâŚ
âAre you, though?â you ask with faux innocence.
Although youâve just had a great orgasm, you can feel your pussy throbbing again. As your mind wanders for a second or two, pondering possibilities, your mouth starts watering.
Yanu firmly grabs the wrist of your hand caressing his crotch. Keeping you in place, he grinds against your palm. Through clenched teeth, he growls into your ear.
âIâm a big boy,â the rakshasa purrs. âI can wait a few hours.â
âI know youâre big, boy,â you retort in an equally sultry voice. âIâll see you home.â
In a loving gesture, he nuzzles against your neck one last time. âDonât stray.â
After that, he watches you walk away. Only when you disappear behind the corner does he go back inside the bar. As much as he likes Qârill, heâd much rather go back home with you.
_____
*Lyrics from "Elderberry wine" by Elton John. A bit of an anachronism, yes, but a damn good song.
If you see any books, plays, movies, paintings or songs mentioned, it's most probably something very close to my heart :)
I'm also a complete greenhorn in writing smut, so bear with me as I learn on the go.
