Scryer as Fuck - ch.2

 Author's Notes: Okay, I had too much fun with this one. This is what happens when an wannabe-real-writer erotic writer gets too much creative freedom and an actual budget to flex with -- you get some weird shit sometimes. The introduction of the new character (you'll see in a sec) was something that was an absolute blast for me to work on, but admittedly I'm not sure how well some of the abstract dialogue will go by with casual consumers. In any event, I guess it's time to see, huh?

[story] [futa/futa] [futa/futa/f] [small/weak dick] [frotting] [oral] [anal] [rimming]

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So, yeah. Yesterday didn’t go exactly how I’d expected it to. That happens. I’m used to taking my licks.

To be fair, while the experience itself was humiliating, and... objectifying, at best, I did get some fun out of the deal. Any day where you cum between someone’s tits can’t be written off as a complete loss, even if the circumstances surrounding and leading to it were intolerably awkward.

I have prospects now, though. If I do good here, if I turn a profit, if I make Madame Valentine happy with my... “performance,” I’ve got a one-way ticket to free academy training to study the arcane with the Scryers, the kind of focus and intimacy in education that I won’t be able to get anywhere else. And, of course, most importantly, it means I’m not among my peers. I can make some sacrifices if it means that I can get what I want without going back to the draenei to be mocked.

Now, I find myself waking up in my assigned dorm room, part of a bizarre barracks that seems to be buried halfway into the heart of Shattrath itself, invisible from the outside. The room has two beds, though none of them were occupied when I got here last night... except, obviously, for the one that I occupied myself as soon as I could get my head to stop buzzing with different thoughts, possibilities, options, and doubts. Nothing had ever felt as close to being where I wanted to be that night, when I curled my tail in and flopped back against the gaudy linen sheets.

The bed wasn’t even that small, to my surprise, no shitty cot or anything like that. I guess it makes sense that if they were going to run a brothel, the Scryers could afford to shell out the resources to make sure their girls didn’t have constant back problems. Well, any more than the... chestier... workers would experience on their own, anyway.

I should back up for a second though. I mentioned that there was nobody else in the room when Valentine led me here and I went to sleep -- this is no longer the case. Pale, silver, shining eyes stare directly at me from across the room, perched on the bed opposite the one I was designated. I say “perched” because it’s really the only way to describe the way she’s sitting in a single word -- her knees to her small chest, toes curled over the edge of the bed, arms hanging limply at her sides. The first thing I see upon opening my eyes, and the person who is apparently going to be my new roommate, is perhaps the strangest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.

She’s kaldorei, as far as I can tell, which already throws up something of a flag as it is. Her skin is a pale, pinkish-blue, her face devoid of any marking tattoos, her hair snow white and worn short, just above her shoulders. It isn’t merely her outward appearances that catches my attention, though, but her expression. It is at once empty and full, her starry, moonlight eyes staring into infinity, looking at nothing but seeing, perhaps, an endless amount of strange things. She is the first thing that has given me considerable pause as to whether or not I should stay here, or run for my life. “Hi,” I finally say clumsily, blinking my eyes from sleep.

“Do you ever think about the strands of people’s lives, how they constantly intersect, overlap.” She isn’t asking a question. I’m not sure she’s even talking to me. “We’re surrounded by these paths and trails and only ever able to walk on one. So many lives that we can only observe, never access. It feels unfair that we can only ever experience the world through our own eyes and minds, when it could be so different through the eyes and mind of another.” She pauses, and I freeze entirely, unsure if moving or speaking will coax her to attack, or freak out, or whatever. At this point I have no idea what to expect, and the soft, airy, borderline-monotone of her voice does nothing to comfort me. “So much more beautiful.”

“You don’t agree,” she says after a long moment. I sit up a little in bed, keeping the sheets held to my chest. Her eyes don’t follow my movement, she doesn’t even really react to me at all.

“I didn’t take the time to think about it, to be honest. It’s... I mean, yeah, I guess.” I look back at her, waiting for some kind of response, getting none. She’s silent again. “What’s your name?”

“Ni’mea,” she answers softly. Her eyes seem to come into focus, and she turns her attention more fully to me. “Who are you?”

“Rimikku.”

“I did not ask your name, Rimikku.” She tilts her head to the side, sounding almost disappointed. “Who are you?”

Fuck. It’s too early for this shit. I have things to do. I think for a brief moment, inhaling as I try to come up with an answer that will satisfy the night elf I’ve been chained to. “I’m just a girl trying to find...” Shit, this might be a better question than I thought. “Trying to find a place where I fit in, I guess.”

“You picked an interesting place to find acceptance. Not necessarily the wrong one.” Ni’mea blinks, probably the first time I’ve seen her do it. “It’s a pleasure to share your home, Rimikku.”

“Thanks,” I say noncommittally. “Do you know where I can find Madame Valentine? I haven’t really gotten a chance to get to know the place yet.”

“Saffron Paradise?”

“What?”

“This place. This place is called Saffron Paradise. A Scryer strip club. And whorehouse.”

“Heyy, there, with the W-word. Let’s cool it on that.”

“My apologies,” she nods her head towards me, a tiny gesture that I would have mistaken for breathing if Ni’mea visibly breathed. “Madame Valentine, to my knowledge, discusses matters of financing with her superiors. It is extremely likely that as we speak now, each of her various entrances and sockets are being filled by the manhoods of those superiors. It is a sensitive process, one she undertakes alone and without complaint, and because of her, Saffron Paradise stays open.”

“Never took her for an altruist.”

“A businesswoman. A dangerous one.” Ni’mea slinks a little forward, dropping her feet to the floor and sitting somewhat more properly at the edge of the bed, arms dangling between her knees. “Why are you here, Rimikku?”

“I already told you, I’m--”

“Not here. Here. With me. This room is...” she pauses for a long moment. “...Not for those Auntie thinks will perform well. This is a place for broken things, strange things. Defective, like Ni’mea. That is what you are? Are you wrong, like me? Imperfect? Damaged?”

Ow. Naaru take me, that one hurt. At this point, I’m not sure Ni’mea is even capable of being purposefully cruel, but fuck, it hits close to home. I breathe out slowly, looking away from the elf girl’s penetrative stare. “Yeah. I guess that’s me.”

For the first time, it seems like I’ve really piqued the elf girl’s interest, more than just her strained attempt at something resembling social interaction. She tilts her head, regarding me closely, then finally scoots all the way off of the bed -- pouncing to the edge of mine and crawling up onto it. I get my first real look at her body, the entirety of it, covered in a gauzy nightdress of some sort of kaldorei spider-silk; enough to tease both the eye and the imagination. She’s slim, like me, but wears it a bit better, I think. Athletic like many of her people, but lean, with a striking “pop” to her backside that I only get a moment to admire as she crawls toward me on all fours.

“Can I see?” she murmurs, head tilted to the side, examining me like a cat, or owl. There’s something very feral about her, and not in a druidism kind of way. Something scarred, something ancient, a reason why she was secreted off to a little Scryer cathouse to be kept in the reject dorm with me.

I’m shaken from my thoughts as her actual question sinks into my head, and blink. “Um?” I croak, recoiling slightly. “See what?”

“What makes you wrong,” Ni’mea replies after a moment of unfocused thought.

I chew my lip a little. I know perfectly well what “Auntie” thought was wrong with me, the reason I’m here. How willing I am to show that off to a night elf I only just met is what’s really in question, but... I  showed it to Madame Valentine last night, didn’t I? And I signed on to work at a place where I’m likely going to be showing a number of things to a number of people. Maybe it would be good practice to start small, start trying to get comfortable with it.

Finally, I nod slowly, and sit up more fully in bed, pulling the sheets down from off of me, first exposing my small, pale blue breasts, flat stomach, frail figure, then pausing. Her eyes are on me, half vacant, half focused, waiting to see something strange. Something that will make her feel more comfortable, I can only assume. I inhale and pull it down the rest of the way, scooting my legs up over the thin layer of cloth and spreading my thighs, displaying the comically tiny, completely inert girlcock between them.

Ni’mea blinks, reaching out to gently touch the immobile little worm, as if trying to understand it. “It’s very small,” she says simply, more to herself than to me. “Does it work?”

“Sometimes,” I murmur, feeling a hot blush start to overtake my face, my pointed ears burning from an embarrassment I’m desperately trying to fight through. “N-not usually.”

“You are ashamed of it,” she observes, looking up to my face, then back down to the insultingly small little sprout between my legs. I try to focus on it, try to make it lift up, trying to even flex it, make it twitch. I fail, succeeding only just enough that Ni’mea can tell I’m trying at all. “You should not be. It’s pretty.” A small smile crossed her face, and she gently caresses one fingertip along it the way one might pet a caterpillar. I shudder a little, biting my lip, but I’m still unable to elicit a reaction down below, neither mentally nor physically.

“Pretty?” I say, a little confused. It’s the first time I’ve heard that, I think. “Not, like... ‘cute,’ or something condescending like that?”

“Just because it is very small does not mean it cannot be lovely. That is my belief, anyway,” She says, giving my limp penis a little kiss, then sitting up to be at eye-level with me again. “Though, it is possible that I have only come across this perception because of my own struggles. Come to view the world in a way that benefits me, one where I feel desired, one where I am equal, though the rest of the world’s perceptions and minds inform me that I am not. Perhaps it is true that my outlook is one of willful avoidance of what reality impresses upon me.”

Another long pause. Ni’mea furrows her brow, looking down for a moment. “Yes, that is likely. That would not be uncharacteristic for me. But it is nonetheless my reality, and a reality that I can share with you, Rimikku, if it gives you comfort.”

Her own struggles? I had no misgivings, at least to begin with, on the reason why Ni’mea might be considered an outcast or a defect, she’s clearly pretty fucking weird. But this is different -- she seems to be relating directly to me, not just peripherally humanizing my own trials by comparing them to hers. It summons a question within me, one that I’m afraid to ask, but can’t bring myself to not utter. “Why are... why are you here, Ni’mea? Do you mind if I call you Nim?”

“All names are better than being called ‘her,’ you may call me as you wish,” she says, though her eyes become distant again, her expression blank. The elf exhales through her nostrils and lays down completely in front of me, propping up on her elbows to more closely inspect my dick, gently teasing it with one fingertip, rubbing it back and forth, as curious as it is sensuous. For a long moment I’m not sure whether she didn’t hear my first question, is refusing to answer it outright, or is still considering how she wants to reply. I learn after a few moments of her gently caressing and inspecting my limp cock that it was the latter.

“I am like you, in a way. Perhaps not quite so... unresponsive. But similar. Endowed, yet insultingly so, as you are.” She seems to think for another moment, taking a sinfully investigatory little lick at one of my tiny balls before sitting up, fiddling with the hem of her nightgown. “Would you like to see?”

I nod slowly, swallowing hard. I really wasn’t ready for quite this much... exposure, just upon waking up, but with Madame Valentine out of the building, I guess getting to know my new roommate seems like the most logical thing to do. Even if that roommate is crazy, and we’re about to compare penises.

Nim doesn’t bother with just lifting the nightgown up, instead opting to put herself on equal footing with my current state of nudity -- she wiggles herself all the way out of the flimsy fabric, spreading her own legs a little and getting closer to me. She’s beautiful, as I noticed earlier, and seeing her without her scant coverings doesn’t change my opinion in the least -- pale, slender, touchably smooth, her breasts perhaps a little bigger than mine and capped with pale, bluish-violet nipples.

Of special note, of course, is her “defect”... as she said, it is surprisingly similar to mine, limp and frail, though perhaps a little bit bigger than my own. Because of course, even next to someone else with a tiny dick, mine would be the smallest around. Maybe next I can go be the laughing stock of Tiny Dicks Anonymous, if such a thing exists. Maybe it should.

There is a matter of altered perpective, though, I suppose. A feeling of disassociation that makes me more comfortable with facing it. Because the problem isn’t mine -- at least, mine specifically -- it feels easier to look at it and contemplate it. That level of focus and extrospection catches Nim’s attention, and she offers a shy smile, scooting a little closer. “You feel it, don’t you? A sense of unity through hardship. An effective form of exploring our empathy for one another. Feeling the strands of one another’s presences.” She pauses, biting her lip a little. “You can touch mine, if you want to. I touched yours.”

I feel a blush coming to cloud my skin again, attempt to will it away, most likely fail. I want to. Actually, no. I know what I want to do.

I scoot forward a little closer to Ni’mea, hearing her let out a soft squeak of surprise when I position myself against her more intimately than she expected. I lift my own tiny dick up with one finger, draping my leg lightly around her waist so that I can close in, pressing mine against hers and curling my fingers loosely around the base of them both. It takes a moment of balancing to get them to lay beside one another, since neither of the little things seems capable of becoming rigid. But it does what I wanted it do, gives me what I needed to see -- to see my little worm of a girlcock look, at least proportionately, average in comparison to another. Kindred. It’s probably stupid, but... comforting, too.

Ni’mea stares at me -- not at my body, my dick, or even my face -- she stares at my eyes, her mouth slightly ajar as her breathing picks up. Half confused, half enlightened, so many strange, unknown thoughts and equations trespass behind the windows to her soul. “I normalize you,” she finally says, chewing her lower lip a little. Her hips press forward of her own accord, gently squishing her small, flaccid shaft against mine. Finally, she smiles, leaning in to place a very small kiss on the corner of my mouth, more of a quick peck that she shyly recoils from. “Good. Use me in that way.”

I have a hard time not kissing her again -- it’s the first time I’ve been kissed in quite a while -- but I have a hard time breaking her gaze, which has locked back onto mine. I inhale slowly, then breathe out, gently draping my arm around her shoulder and balancing myself with the other, coming a little closer, squeezing our dicks together between our stomachs, squishing and grinding them more firmly now. There’s a sort of intensity that comes with the mental bond Ni’mea seems insistent on forging between us, and as I squirm and rock more desperately against her, I feel a stirring down below. Something warm and hungry and tender, like a kindling of a flame at the edge of becoming a fire. And against me, slowly pulsing to life, I start to feel the same reaction in Nim’s tiny cock. Despite the inherent difficulty in it, we’re both getting stiff.

My I feel my hands start to wonder along her body, finding her skin to be unbelievably smooth, like it’s never been touched before. For all I know, it hasn’t been. I quickly forget why I was struggling not to kiss Nim again, and my lips meet hers firmly, eliciting a muffled squeak of enjoyment from her as we press harder against each other, squirming, gasping. Our breasts grind and slip together just as our small, hardening shafts do, sending sparks of pleasure through my body as our nipples rub and collide.

Her tongue swirls and rubs along mine, quickly invading my mouth as she melts into my embrace, her hands demurely caressing along my shoulders while mine slide down to lustfully grab her butt, squeezing it firmly as I grind into her. Thin, spidery strands of precum coat and connect the two of us, but already I can feel the... imminence... of a releasal that I won’t be able to hold back when it finally arrives. I only hope Ni’mea understands that as well as she related to my size issues.

Our breath becomes one, a maelstrom between our lips. I try not to think about whether or not this makes me a slut. Whether I felt a true connection to Nim or whether she just... well... yeah. “Normalized me.” Whether that sense of comfort counts as a connection or not is only a small nag in the back of my mind though, the rest of my senses flooded by her, her scent, her lips, the feeling of her tiny cock pulsating against mine, pleasure shooting through me. I suck and nibble desperately at her lower lip, my heart racing, my nails making shallow marks along the silky skin of her backside.

Breathless, I break our kiss, tilting her back a little to bury my face in her chest, kissing between her breasts and taking one stiff, pale nipple between my lips, sucking it firmly as I rock my hips against hers, prolonging our desperate, miniaturized swordfight for as long as I--

“Nnngggahhhh~!!” I shriek out against Nim’s skin, my body taking control of me without warning and my little Derringer of a penis unloading its small, equally unimpressive load of cum, leaving a creamy coating on the night elf’s snug, tightened balls. My cheeks immediately flush as I realize what happened, realize that I couldn’t even keep up with the one girl who might have been as challenged as I was. I bite my lip, shyly looking up to see Nim’s reaction.

To my complete surprise, she’s wearing a gentle smile, leaning down to gently press her lips against mine. “Thank you,” she coos, biting my lower lip tenderly and sitting up, kissing my ear, her hands sliding down my back. I blink, nuzzling her shoulder, then looking back to her quizzically.

“You’re not mad?”

“Should I be? Just because you’ve discharged doesn’t mean we’re finished.”

“Actually, it does.” A third voice comes from the entrance of our dormitory, a familiar one, scolding, but not too seriously. I let out a quiet squeak, looking up to see Madame Valentine, leaning against the doorbuck. I have no clue how long she’s been there.

“Auntie?” Ni’mea says softly, turning around to look at the blood elf, now blushing a bit herself for the first time. She disentangles from me, sitting shyly on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap and her legs closed together -- though I can still see a little glimpse at that tiny, lavender dick of hers peeking out from between the silky skin of her thighs. “I’m sorry. Did I behave poorly again? I thought that... that you....”

If not for the obvious racial discrepency, I would have believed the two were actually related the way Nim suddenly cowers before her “aunt.” I sit up more fully, awkwardly covering my instantly-limp girldick and looking to Valentine’s curvaceous, corsetted form for answers.

“My goodness, girls, you act like I whip you daily,” Madame Valentine sighs, her hands on her hips. I find myself once again drawn into the image of her pale, displayed cleavage, but I don’t think the touch of the Light itself could get me hard again after that. “I’m not here to break up the fun. I’m here to direct it. And... maybe join in.” She smirks a little, her expression belying all of the experience of the age that her skin refuses to show. “I’m proud of you two for having some fun without me forcing you to. I figured if there was any way to get the two of you some experience without frustrating the clients, it’d be to put both of you in the same room.”

Part of me is annoyed at being manipulated, but then again, Valentine is sin’dorei. I should never have expected anything else, to be honest. Plus... Ni’mea clearly wasn’t in on this, from the way she’s prostrating herself before “Auntie.” So what we shared, arranged or not, was real. “Direct how?” I finally force myself to ask. Nim’s still hanging her head, her shaggy white hair hanging in her eyes like she was just told she wasn’t going to be fed for a week.

“Obviously the two of you aren’t going to be able to pleasure anyone -- and I mean anyone -- with those little maggots you call cocks. I’m surprised you even managed to get Rimikku off. But now that you two are acquainted, maybe it’s time we tried some... advanced techniques.” She holds up a small briefcase, more of a handbag than anything, with a grin. “Both of you get cuddly again. Face those little backsides to me... if you can’t fuck a client, we’re going to see how well a client can fuck you. Rimikku, have you ever been assfucked before?”

My face goes white -- whiter than the usual shade of pale blue it tends to exhibit -- and I clear my throat. “Um. No? I mean. I one time-- yeah no.”

“Experimenting with your hairbrush doesn’t count, sweetie,” Madame Valentine grins, licking her lips. “Okay, I think I’m gonna have some fun with this. I know Nimmy here hasn’t either, so it’s time the both of you were properly... trained. Feel absolutely free to make each other as comfortable as you can.”

I squirm awkwardly, looking from Valentine back to Nim, chewing my lip. While I don’t know exactly what the blood elf has planned, I can’t help but feel a little bit excited at what could happen next. I lick my lips and slowly begin to comply, getting down onto my knees and facing my backside towards Madame Valentine. My tail swishes eagerly back and forth, belying my sense of anticipation, though my sticky, spent girlcock remains helplessly inert as I display my pale back entrance to the other woman.

“There we go. At least someone’s willing to play along. Now get beside her, Nimmy, sweetie.” Madame Valentine flicked her lustrous crimson hair back over her shoulders, strutting towards the edge of the bed with a predatory grin as Ni’mea complied as well, shyly posing beside me, getting on all fours and entangling the fingers of one hand with my own, leaning across the narrow gap to nuzzle my cheek. She was still incredibly stiff from our earlier play (and my total failure in getting her off) though even at full hardness she was barely more imposing than I was. “Goodness me, how long it’s been since I’ve seen such a lovely pair of holes as these,” the sin’dorei purrs, pulling up behind us to kneel on the bed, setting her briefcase beside her. She gently caresses her hands back and forth along both of our butts, and I shudder a little at the attention.

If I weren’t so useless I’d already be stiff again from this -- the way Valentine rubs and admires the two of us, audibly cooing in appreciation. I flinch a little when I feel her fingertip touch my rear entrance, letting out a soft sigh of conflicted pleasure as she gently massages the pale pucker. “Goodness me,” she purrs. “Yes, something tells me I’ll be able to get some use out of the two of you. I’ll just have to be very careful with my advertising.” She leaves the briefcase unopened for now, leaning down to tenderly flick her tongue across my rosebud, forcing a helpless moan of ecstasy out of me. It feels strange, but... amazing, and naughty, and being prostrated on the bed with Ni’mea beside me is getting me unconscionably horny.

“Nnngh...” I whimper out quietly, my breathing picking up again. I glance to the side to see Nim looking at me, blushing deeply, leaning back over to gently nuzzle my nose. I lock her back into a soft kiss before moaning desperately into her mouth -- auntie is getting more bold now, the blood elf swirling and teasing her tongue tenderly across my little hole, then down to kiss and suckle at one of my tiny balls before moving back up, pressing the tip of her tongue inside of me.

“You’re taking to it quite nicely,” Valentine teases, taking another soft lick and then pressing one fingertip against my little hole, slowly sliding it into me, grinning when she feels me shudder under her. “Maybe you won’t take as much training as I thought.” I glance back, seeing her shift away from me a little, leaving her finger inside -- it slides slowly in and out of me, my little hole clenching and flexing around it as she easily pumps it back and forth. The majority of her focus, now, is on Ni’mea though. I feel the night elf whimper against my lips, our kiss falling as dead as my penis as her mouth contorts into a desperate whine of confusion and pleasure. Valentine is licking her, too, now. Somehow the idea of that gets me even hotter. Fuck, what’s wrong with me?

Nim shudders a little more, finally finding her senses again and kissing me, her hand clasping mine tightly, as if using me as her anchor as she tries to adapt to what’s happening behind her. I can hear Madame Valentine cooing and licking, her finger still inside of me, easing back and forth, opening me up a little before she starts to gradually add a second one to my clinging hole. It’s a little while before I hear anyone speak again, but when I do, it’s the madame once more... sounding at once satisfied and frustrated. “Rimikku, sweetheart, would you mind taking over while I focus on you? It’s only fair that you get her off, after all.”

My heart seems to sink and lift at the same time -- lifting because the prospect of pleasuring Nim, and sinking because of how I failed her before. Madame Valentine rubbing it in certainly doesn’t help with that. But this time I can do it, right? As long as I’m not relying on my dick, I should be okay. I think. “Y-yeah, I can do that,” I murmur. Being “focused on” doesn’t sound half bad either, to be honest. I tilt to face Ni’mea, kissing her gently again and nuzzling her nose. “Can you sit up?”

The night elf complies, her knees wobbling a little as she stands up, then lays down in front of me, spreading her legs a little. Her little cock is almost comically rigid, wobbling up and down a little as she gets in front of me, blushing and covering her face with one hand. I take a moment to drink her in, how adorably beautiful she really is, despite being... y’know, weird. My moment of hesitation is broken when I feel Madame Valentine slide her fingers out of me again, swirling her tongue sweetly around my quivering hole, and I hear the click of the briefcase opening.

I don’t bother to look back, for now, instead investing my attention between Nim’s legs. I can feel the night elf’s starry eyes on me, watching me, still breathing softly through her mouth as she patiently watches as I snake my tongue out, teasing it gently against her back entrance. I can taste the cherry scent of Madame Valentine’s lips already on her, my tongue slithering across the pale hole tenderly, getting it even wetter, soaked in my saliva and clenching with excitement. I can feel Nim’s thighs close down around either side of my head, though my horns get in the way somewhat. I’m alright with that. It gives me more room to work, as much as I appreciate the (however reactive) gesture.

I feel “auntie’s” hands caressing along the sides of my small, if perky, backside, giving one cheek a little slap as she fishes something out of her bag. She gives my soaked anus one more affectionate lick before pressing something against it... only this isn’t a finger this time. It’s cool, and smooth. Glass maybe? Maybe another light metal, like fel iron, or... maybe mithral? I quiver from the feeling of cold, but let out a soft moan as Madame Valentine presses it downward, and I feel the smooth tip of it pop past the resistance of my backdoor. “F-fuck,” I whine, resting my face against Nim’s hard little dick and just nuzzling for a moment in my moment of distraction. Madame Valentine doesn’t stop just there though, continuing to push the toy inside -- from what I can tell by how it feels, it’s deeply ribbed, like several glass orbs fused together, so each one needs to be forced inside of me. It feels weird but... fuck, is it taking my breath away.

“Now now, sweetie, don’t stop working. You’re not going to let Nimmy down again, are you?” the blood elf teases, reminding me, as if my mere existence were not a constant reminder, of my sexual inadequacies. She’s right though, and I do my best to harness the obscene pleasure pulsing through me and channel it forward, rather than letting it distract me. Channel it into Ni’mea.

I stroke the flat of my tongue deep and hard up along Nim’s anus, feeling her spasm blissfully under me, before licking upward -- dragging my tongue across the puffy swell of her perineum before easily taking both of her small balls into my mouth, suckling them tenderly and curling my tongue around the small, quivering sack. I press one finger, then two, against Nim’s slick hole and start to gradually force them inside, making the elf gasp out with pleasure. I tilt my head up a little and take her cock into my mouth, moaning softly around it as I curl and slide my tongue around the tiny, stiff length.

It’s still incredibly hard to concentrate on anything when Madame Valentine is getting more and more excited about her own work. She’s clearly a woman who loves her job, and she’s getting no small amount of excitement from what she’s doing -- sliding the ribbed toy back and forth inside of me while leaning in to stroke her tongue along the rim of my hole, keeping me slick and eager while her free hand caresses and swats my backside, getting more and more frisky as she “trains” me. I’m not sure what ultimate goal she’s trying to reach, since there’s absolutely no way on Azeroth that I’m going to cum again, and I’m not even the least bit hard. I wish I could, I’d love to. But that’s just not happening, not this soon.

Nim, however, still has a chance, and from what I can tell she’s getting closer, already antsy from our earlier playtime and now having a hard time steadying her breathing from my barrage of attention. I bury myself in her, firmly sucking her little dick while I cram my fingers in and out of her ass, twisting them a little to get them deeper, hearing her squeal with pleasure. There’s a moment of disappointment deep inside of me, for just a moment, when I think about how much I’d like to fuck her -- but that’s not something I’ll ever be able to do. A kind of satisfaction neither of us will ever get. For now, fingers and toys and lips alone will have to do.

I gasp when I feel her pulsate, and a little squirt of creamy substance shoots out of the tip of her penis to pool in my tongue. I let it linger for a moment, tasting it, then swallowing it and pulling up a little to softly kiss Nim’s lips, a kiss that she immediately returns. We embrace for a long time like that, her gasping for air from her climax and me squirming, whimpering as Madame Valentine continues to ruthlessly drill my aching, tingling butt with the toy... until eventually even she gives up.

“Fuck, girl, my arm’s getting tired,” she huffs, forcing the toy one “rung” deeper before leaving the entire thing inside, catching her breath. “You really aren’t gonna get stiff again, are you?”

I turn a little, panting softly, then finally rotate entirely so that I’m laying in Nim’s lap, my dick having since dried off and dangling, insultingly inert, between my legs, not even enough length to the poor thing to lay against my inner thigh. “No,” I admit. I try to focus on her cleavage, try to focus on making my dick move, even twitch. Nothing. “No,” I reiterate, despite Valentine not being privvy to my mental efforts. “I’m surprised I managed to get it going this morning.”

The blood elf exhales thoughtfully through her nostrils, looking at me and Nim and tapping one finger thoughtfully to her lips. “I’d say you’re more hopeless than Nimmy, but... no, I’m not willing to give up on you yet.” She sits up, closing her briefcase again and snapping it shut without removing the one inside me. “I’ll make a profit off of you even if I have to exploit you to fetishists... then again.”

Another pause, a moment of thought, and she grins. “Meet me in the main parlor in an hour. Nimmy will show you where. And don’t you dare remove that toy. That stays inside of you until Auntie says it can come out.”

She turns, leaves, leaving me snuggling idly against the visibly satisfied Nim, her eyes now staring into space again as she lightly traces her fingertips along my shoulders and chest, eliciting a little shudder when they caress across my nipples. I didn’t know, at the time, exactly what Madame Valentine had planned for me, but I would soon -- if she couldn’t find a way to exploit me, she was going to invent a way. Nothing if not a businesswoman.