"Yes, rogues, indeed," Lord Wilhelm replied, gravely. "The king should be here on the morrow. The city square is quite a scene, I'm afraid." He added with some amount of sarcasm,"I've been trying to avoid the very mention of it, yet I find myself beset at all angles with talk of 'all the wonderful things' that shall be seen thereabouts on fest day."
"I quite agree," Lord Grant laughed. "The peasants are amused by the most mundane of things, it seems. Would that they were exposed to some proper fun and games, they might just die!" They both chuckled knowingly at that.
"Ah hah! Perhaps we should round up a couple of whores tonight. A couple of the nice ones, from Winderbarrow. I carried one home from Bardrick's the other week and gods what I found in her cunt when I went digging around. Quite ghastly."
"Yes, Bardrick's is not up to standards these days," Lord Grant said absently. "Say, I'm feeling a bit randy for one of those halfling whores lately. What do you say we pick up a couple of those?"
"Can't say I can deny their appeal. Makes one feel a bit dirty when their perched up on one's cock, moaning away the night, their cute little faces twisted in pleasure only a human can give them."
"Stop that, Maron, you'll get me all worked up before breaking fast even."
●●●
"Wake up, ye filthy 'ores," a gruff woman's voice said loudly, interrupting the languid sleep of various women reposing in cots and bunk beds in a dimly lit common sleeping room. "The Winderbarrow ain't gonna clean itself. Now, git yer arses up an' get to your chores. Chores for 'ores, I say!" The splotchy-faced and rotund old wife of the proprietor of Winderbarrow brothel laughed heartily at her own joke, one she'd repeated every day for the last year since she'd thought of it.
Hildi groaned inwardly at being awoken by the joke for the three-hundredth time and yawned, stretching out her stiff halfling limbs, a naked breast peeking out from under the thin sheet she slept under in the summer heat. The other end of the sheet pulled up, exposing her tan-hued skin. She abruptly turned over, and propped herself up on her elbows, her small ass exposed to the room.
She looked over at her human friend, Shandra, sleeping next to her, oblivious to the shouting mistress. The pretty girl stirred a little and rolled over, exposing her back, the rest of her covered by a mostly sheer sleeping shift. Hildi stared at her and marveled at the smooth yet knotted line her spine made between the limber muscles of the girl's back. Her beautiful blond hair was like spun gold and lay tousled on the bed behind her. Then, she looked down at herself and remembered she was naked.
"Ugh, I must have forgotten to dress after that filthy lord was finished last night," she thought. The man had been nearly insatiable and she'd hobbled back to the bunk room barely awake, not even enough time to clean off the man's slime. In fact, she barely remembered getting back there.
She hated this life, but, it was a living. Some women here seemed to love it, but of course they were human. They couldn't imagine the lecherous types who came in here looking for halfling girls and what they could do when they knew no one was looking -- or listening. She shuddered at the thought. She got up, and stretched again, her muscular legs and arms flexing with her arching back.
She stood there leaning on the side of the bunk bed, shaking the sleep out of her head, when she felt something nuzzle her public hair, making her tingle and stand on her toes for a moment. She looked down and saw Shandra's golden hair as her friend shoved her nose between Hildi's legs.
"My diminutive friend, last night must have been quite a time," the human remarked lightly, smiling up at Hildi. "You smell positively musky!"
Just then, Hildi felt something round and wooden hit her ass and force its way between her cheeks, threatening to go right inside her. "If youns don't get to work, I'll shove this 'ere broom stick right up your little halfling rump!" A voice from behind her ordered and gave the stick a bump as a warning.
Hildi stuck out her little naked behind and said defiantly, "you just try it and we'll see what Ramon has to say about it when I tell him you violated one of his girls!"
The woman snarled at Hildi and threw a glass of water in her face. "You watch that mouth of yours, little one, or ye'll be back out in them streets, fightin' them rats for yer next meal. Me old man aren't a fool. He knows we needs discipline in 'ere. Just for them words, ye get ta wear them special work clothes today," the old woman said disdainfully and smacked Hildi's bottom hard with the broom stick.
Hildi sighed, water dripping from her face. The old woman threw a pair of rough brown leather shorts at the halfling.
"Now, get them on, and I mean, all the way on," she ordered, grinning, her yellow teeth showing through the thin lips. "I want all yer 'oles filled an' Imma come inspect later."
The defeated halfling unlaced the front of the shorts and looked inside. There were two smooth, polished steel phalluses mounted inside, one of which was shaped like a large arrowhead. She gulped and drew them on, tears of humiliation and anticipated pain in her eyes. The women around the room looked away, mostly, though Shandra tried to sooth Hildi with a look mostly unseen as tears filled Hildi's eyes. She'd have to do all of her chores today on her knees, wearing only the uncomfortable shorts, tortuously impaled in two close-together spots.
"Here, get em ready first, girl," the round woman said, holding out a hand with cooking grease on it. "Can't have you lady bits all damaged for work tonight."
The "work shorts", as they were named, were made for a child (or halfling as it were) but had been modified with steel things, a dildo and rump plug that were made for a human woman. She had never worn the shorts before, but had seen others be punished with them, so she was vaguely aware of what to do. She took the grease from the nasty old woman and used it to coat the steel cullions. She then pulled the shorts up and tried to ease the things into her anus and vagina. As the tip of the first one started into her ass, she blanched and pushed hard into it, ignoring the pain. Just get it over with, she thought. After some struggling she felt a pop and some relief as the thing filled her rear end and her muscle closed around its smaller base. The dildo made for her vagina wasn't nearly as bad and she inserted it with only a little resistance, though it pained her a little as it reached its deepest point.
Embarrassed, she looked to the old woman, drawing the string at the waist and tying it, ignoring the staring women around her. "On yer knees, you ungrateful brat. 'ere's a pail and a sponge. Get to work, cleaning these 'ere floors." She looked around the room, "The rest of yous get yer arses dressed and get to yer own jobs. There's meals to be made and bawdy rooms to be cleaned up."
Hildi worked alone, scrubbing the floors, the motion causing her to dip her shoulders down and her hips to press upward, grinding the steel devices inside her further and igniting her with pleasure and pain. The shorts were soon wet from her weeping lady bits, the brown leather turning dark and just a little less irritating to the sensitive skin in the area. What a miserable day, she thought, gloomily.
●●●
After breaking fast at the excellent but expensive Arosel's Tavern, Lords Maron Wilhelm and Arthur Grant spent the day carousing the wares available at the many tents erected in the city square, a roughly one square mile park area in the middle of the city of Morisham. The city square was a regular place of various festivities on any given endofweek but ahead of the realm king's arrival, the number of festivities had grown exponentially until virtually every fingerwidth of the place was over taken by hawkers and performers of various repute.
Lord Wilhelm spied a particularly interesting red and yellow striped tent whose opening was festooned by nude paintings of exotic dark-skinned men and women from Amosthia engaged in assorted athletic sexual acts and hideous (to humans at least) lizard people from Rarthska engaged in something unidentifiable. There were even paintings of the sensual cat ladies from the distant and noble kingdom of Felinia. "Gran, just a moment, let's hang in here for a breath or two and see what's new from those distant shores to kindle our excitement."
Lord Grant nodded his acquiescence and followed his friend into the dim interior, made smoky from numerous incense candles around the place. It was hot inside the tent and, even in light traveling clothes, the two lords began to perspire in short order. They both removed their overtunics to alleviate the discomfort.
The interior of the tent was much larger than should have been allowed by what they had seen of the exterior, which they both assumed had been made possible by magic. A man in red robes, standing near a shelf full of strange concoctions, verified that assumption.
There were all manner of distractions in this tent of iniquity. The shadowy natives of Amosthia engaged in many strenuous activities involving proudly displayed body parts usually hidden among polite society members. Fur-covered and erotic women with spots and long prehensile tails pleasured half-naked human men with deft motions of their feline hips, their capable, pink-lipped vulvas enveloping their clients' cocks with willing ease. Lizard warrior women held their Amosthian counterparts aloft by their buttocks while their long, dextrous tongues brought the well-muscled women to uncontrollable and spasmodic orgasm.
"Well, I can certainly see why they have so much incense burning in here," joked Lord Grant. "The bodily aromas of such a varied crowd must be something to behold."
"Quite right," was all Lord Wilhelm could muster, his attention pulled in several directions by those seeking his coin. "I think... I think that kitty right there," he pointed to a slim black and white Felinian sitting languidly on a bench, smoking a cigarette attached to a long, slim pipe.
Her eyes were the bluest sky-blue with grey flecks and her black cat eye-slits surrounded by silver lines. She had ridiculously long lashes and her ears, positioned on the top sides of her head, one white and one black, were tipped with little tufts of fur that brought them to sharp points. He noted she had small human type fur-covered breasts and only two of them. She had a lovely figure and her hips rounded out onto the bench in a way that made the lord squirm with desire to hold them in his hands.
Forgetting about his fellow lord entirely, he approached the beautiful cat woman, a bulge forming in his pants. The Felinian sniffed the air.
"I smell your sex, human," she purred as the end her tail playfully rubbed against his growing bulge. Her wide face and toothy -- dangerous looking -- smile did not dissuade him from his course. In fact, it seemed to only make him more interested.
Lord Grant stood back, watching with curiosity.
As Lord Wilhelm drew closer to the intense woman, her tail wrapped around him. He felt the light touch of sharp claws on his back through the thin undertunic as she pulled him closer. Her whiskers tickled his ears as she whispered into one, "your coin first, sir."
"Yes, yes, of course," Maron stammered, abandoning good decor altogether. "How much?"
"That depends," she said softly into his ear. "How about a good faith deposit of fifty silvers? We can settle the rest up later." Her tail had moved behind him and was stroking his member through his breeches from between his legs. He found it maddening.
"Anything," he said, and pulled out a few gold pieces. "This should more than adequately cover your services."
The Felinian meowed and smiled another toothy smile, her sharp fangs protruding menacingly. "Yes, yes, that will do," she said and stood.
She was a little taller tan he had expected, standing two fingerwidths taller than him not counting her ears. She wrapped his fingers in her own clawed fingers and led him to an adjoining tent of her own where they would have privacy. Evidently, she wasn't as lewd as the other members of this carnal carnival. Without a look back to Lord Grant, Wilhelm disappeared into the folds of the other tent.
Lord Grant smiled. "Rogues, indeed. Good luck to you, chap," he said to the closed flap and strode on, humming to himself while he enjoyed the sights around him.
(Next: Tristan)
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