(Fan)fiction Friday 1: Roguish Delight
I have written stuff in the past that I don't consider worthy of publishing, or can't publish, because it takes place in already established and owned universes. I figure I may as well put it up here, in case someone is interested. I'll be posting one chapter a week. Being a bit picky with what I post, there should be enough for one weekly chapter for over 3 months. I'll start off with a standalone short.
Tags: [Futa/F] [Large Cock] [Reluctance] [Impregnation] [Stomach Distension] [Lots of cum]
She wanted to think of the ancient stone arch over her head as something symbolic, something to represent that she was not only leaving her old life behind, but entering a new and brighter future. The truth was that, while the gate was impressive, the masonry was aged. Even a farmgirl could clearly see the stone was past its prime mortar crumbling, with moss gradually encroaching.
“C’mon, move your ass!”
Someone from behind angrily brushed past her, ramming a hard shoulder into her back in the process. She stumbled forward gracelessly, spitting a weak “Fuck you!” after the perpetrator. The bustle at the gate was enough that she had no real idea who had even hit her, and the guards made her feel relatively secure in her outburst.
Mylene Quinn inhaled expectantly, guided her slender hands into the shallow pockets of her well-worn dirt-brown pants, and set off past the Farstream city gates with lazy steps. She noted the eyes of more than one of the obviously bored guards on her backside, even as modest as it looked in her utilitarian and rough outfit. She ducked her head, mumbled another quiet, insincere curse under her breath about pigs and padded onwards, down the grimy cobbled road, into the city. She was soon swallowed up between worn-down houses, disappearing into the well-oiled machinery of bars and taverns that form the underlying support of any larger urban area.
When she had taken everything her family owned, everything that could be carried, and left in the middle of the night, she had imagined that she would come to the city and somehow make it. Find a living, find excitement and most of all, her own life. It soon turned out that baling hay and plowing fields were far from useful skills in a city, leaving her with little opportunity. Even the taverns and bars seemed to have no room for a foreign girl amongst their waitress staff.
A week passed, days spent on wandering the muddy and often disarrayed streets of Farstream. The few riches she had been able to plunder from her family’s farm soon proved inadequate, causing frustration to rise as the amount of coins in her pouch dwindled.
Most people remained uninterested in befriending her, in fact, all she had had so far were ill-hidden advances, mostly from drunkards. The initial polite letdowns were soon replaced with colder and colder rebuttals, until she eventually just learned to say “No.” in a decisive enough tone that most of them never even got further than a few words into their horrible, clearly planned speeches.
Thankfully, the advances lessened considerably as her appearance began to reflect her standard of living. An eighteen year old girl from the farms, stuck in loose, patchy clothes. The dirt-brown pants were beginning to fray at the bottom, and were almost more made of patches than the original leather. Of course, the fact that they seemed to have been passed down from her oldest brother through to her for more than a decade did not do her any justice either.
Her yellowish-white hemp shirt did little to enhance her image, having been her father’s once, a long, long time ago. The elbows were patched, and several spills had never quite come out.
With a sigh, Mylene attempted to brush something, anything off her shirt as she neared the counter of the inn she was staying in. She was out of money, in fact, she had been for two days. She had had no baths of any kind, leaving what was visible of her perky, youthful form smeared with dirt in places. After a brief fight with a ruffian, she had ended up in a pile on the ground, thus making sure that even her face was stained by dried mud and dirt.
Beneath it all, there had once been a girl of promising beauty. Wavy dark brown locks of hair would have framed a youthful face with healthy round cheeks and pale blueish-grey eyes and a smile accompanied by slight dimples. Now, the image of the youngest Quinn girl was quite simple: Urchin.
A brief conversation with the innkeeper quickly turned unpleasant, and left her in the hands of a bouncer who spared no comfort for her, chucking her out in the street almost face-first. It was then that the young girl saw Anita for the first time. A woman not much older than Mylene, but obviously one far more in control of herself and her life than the dirty youngster sprawled on the cobblestones.
“Heard y’need a job, shorty,” said Anita matter-of-factly.
Mylene quickly managed to compose herself, putting arms and legs against the ground, pushing herself up as she sized up her would-be savior. “Yeah, I do. Whatcha got?”
Anita looked somehow both out of place and completely at home here, in the middle of the poor quarters of town. Black, solid, almost soldierly boots clung loosely to her feet and lower legs, the necks covered up by pants made of almost midnight-black hemp. A smooth leather belt with a barely dented, square metal buckle peeked out under the hem of a black, long-armed shirt that was left open enough to show some cleavage. The woman had short black eyes and hair, cut just above her chin, and the face of a sultry killer.
She gave Mylene another brief look neglecting to answer the question with anything more than waving for the girl to accompany her. They were an uneven pair, one taking long, quick strides, the other having to pad along at a near-run. “What’s your name, shorty?”
“Mylene Quinn,” said Mylene, already panting slightly as she hurried along.
“Think we’re gonna stick with shorty, Mylene Quinn. Y’can call me Anita,” said Anita, again in a matter-of-fact tone, one that left her young companion with a tinge of anger mixed into her feeling of budding hope. She continued scurrying along next to the determined black-clad woman, following as they turned a corner and suddenly found themselves in an abandoned, darkened alleyway.
Mylene slowed over the course of ten steps, putting her hands at her sides as she half-yelled at Anita’s back. “Hey, where are we going? I don’t have anything to rob, in case you’re blind or something.”
With a brief roll of her eyes, the black-haired woman turned, sending an annoyed look to the rascal behind her. “I’m SO glad you told me, shorty. Why, with your majestic appearance here I was, thinkin’ you carried around a couple gold bars at LEAST,” hissed Anita, her tone practically dripping with sarcasm.
“Hey, fuck you! You’re the one taking me into an alley without any explanation,” Mylene shouted back, stepping up to her opponent, seething for a moment. Her eyebrows shot upwards as the woman in front of her changed behavior in a heartbeat. Her eyes took on some joyous warmth as she placed a black-gloved index finger against Mylene’s pale red lips.
“Listen, shorty. I got a job for you, but did y’think I wouldn’t want anything in return? C’mon now,” she whispered playfully, lifting her finger to bop against the girl’s dirtied forehead briefly.
Mylene was taken aback briefly, then looked up at Anita skeptically. Her tone was more anxious than she realized as she took up a defiant stance. “So, what job is it? And what am I supposed to help you with?”
“The job’s really just a servant position, lowest rung of the ladder. I run a… -Business- with some other folks. About the helping me, c’mon here,” said the taller woman, leading both of them into a side-alley, piled with discarded, ruined furniture and even old rags.
“See, I figure you’ve got just about no coin to pay me with,” said Anita, pausing for a moment to let Mylene get off a sour nod. “So, you’ll pay with what you DO have. Go over there,” Anita motioned with her head to a reasonably clear bit of ground, the continued. “…And take your pants off.”
“-What- now? Fuck you,” spat Mylene in disbelief, glaring in anger-mixed disgust at the woman standing in front of her with arms crossed over her well-proportioned chest.
“In a manner of speakin’, yeah. Now shut up and get over there, it’s not like you’ve got better things offered up anyway, so either stop whining or fuck off,” said Anita, once again nodding her head towards the same square of cleared ground. The two women were at a brief standoff, unfeeling, calm black eyes crossing the fiery glare of pale blue orbs. With a mumbled “Fuck this,” the dirty girl made her way deeper into the alley, removing the fraying rope acting as her belt. It turned out that the rope was all that held up her patched, dirt-brown pants.
Remaining with her arms crossed over her chest, Anita drummed her fingers against her elbow in faux impatience, squeezing her lips together as she observed Mylene’s pants drop to the ground. She was certainly not a big girl, but the healthy diet of her life up until recently ensured that she remained safe from being unhealthily thin. Both her thighs and her calves were vaguely defined, enough to enhance her youthful appearance into something almost enticing, even with her muddy appearance.
“Make your ass useful and sit on it, will ya?” said Anita, casually stepping over to the girl as she unceremoniously dumped down on the ground. The black-haired woman leaned down, placing a gloved hand against the girl’s slender shoulder, pushing her backwards far enough that she eventually got the hint, lying on her back. Everything about Mylene exuded annoyance, disgust and anxiousness, but she did nothing to hinder the woman over her. Her options were pretty much exhausted. If she had to get a little dirty to get started in Farstream, so what?
The larger, black-clad women kneeled, wriggling the fingers of her right hand slightly, almost as if about to dig into a meal, before popping open the buttons holding her pants closed. Pushing them down a little, a hairless crotch and then, only partly to Mylene’s surprise, the bottom hilt of an impressively thick cock appeared.
Anita dug her right hand into her pants, pulling her as of yet soft and flaccid shaft out of the just about loose enough pants. Her left hand lazily parted the legs of the girl lying on her back in front of her, making it possible for the larger woman to waddle in closer, on her knees.
Mylene’s heart jumped, at once starting to race and clogging up her throat as she both felt and saw the weighty, thick slab of meat smack against her dirty shirt. The black-haired woman over her, exhaled contemptuously through her nostrils, reaching out to push the shirt up. She gave the fleshy log a few strokes to start off with, setting into a more furious pace to get herself going.
Veins started to bulge all along the turgid shaft as it plumbed up and grew up to a full, fat nineteen inches. The black-haired woman’s hand was dwarfed as it dragged up and down on a section of the erect giant. She glanced up at the wide-eyed urchin with a cheeky smirk, giving the shaft a last stroke before moving backwards.
There were no loving kisses or waiting around, here. Anita wanted to fuck the hell out of the perky, slender girl. She had little hesitation as the fat head of her hefty fuckrod parted the girl’s outer lips, pushing her pelvis forward. It was an odd sight to watch the girl writhe and whine. Her hands pressed against her lower stomach, as if to prevent her insides from bursting out. The black-haired rogue wrinkled her nose slightly in satisfaction, barreling further into her prize. The immense, pulsing cockhead was swallowed up by the girl’s bare, desperately clenching pussy, expanded to a point that there was barely room between her thighs for the steely shaft.
Anita paid it no heed, slam-fucking her massive cock into the shrilly screeching girl one inch at a time. The urchin’s cunt was like a much too tight glove around her pulsating shaft, twitching and dragging against her as all of those rippling, steely inches of dick were shoved carelessly in.
The rogue took a brief break from clutching the girl’s hips, pushing her pants further down. Enormous, pendulous, hairless balls swung free, ominously moving closer to the writhing, yelping girl’s shivering form.
The last few inches of cock were always the hardest to fit into someone. It was as if new room had to be found inside her victims. The remaining three inches of the colossal, meaty cockshaft bored slowly in, completing the union of the two as the huge, cum-heavy balls came to rest against the bottom of Mylene’s slightly protruding asscheeks. Anita licked her lips sloppily, reaching out to push the bulge formed up along the center of the girl’s body back into her, but found herself unable to do anything other than force gasps of pain from the urchin. She shrugged, and once again taking hold of the girl’s hips, lifting her ass slightly off the ground.
With her legs forcefully splayed open in a one-eighty degree angle, Mylene was able to reach down and plant her palms against the black cloth covering her partner’s taut stomach, pressing weakly against it. The round, massively thick tube was relentless, keeping her cunt widened absurdly around it despite the twitching and wriggling that she reflexively jerked out. It was only when the black-clad woman between her legs pulled back slowly that the farm girl received a moment of respite, her legs once again given room to sink a little closer together, the veined cockshaft sliding out of her almost halfway.
For Anita, the journey was fast approaching its apex. She gave a brief, jerking lift with her arms, giving her the fraction of a second needed to gain a better grip on the urchin’s thighs, and then barreled ahead once more, shoving the pulsing, fat futacock back in, slippery, veiny skin eaten up by the struggling girl’s clutching cunt. She wasted no time with slowly building up a rhythm. Mylene had screamed enough that someone was bound to come looking soon, and she had every intention of being gone by then.
The bulky shaft withdrew, the stretched pussy clinging to it in a needy fashion. Inhaling deeply, the black-haired woman pistoned the monstrous cock back in, bruising past the girl’s cervix and bottoming herself out completely in the urchin’ straining womb. She pulled back, repeating the feat again, and again, heedless of Mylene’s screams as she pulled back and then ferociously pounded back in, flat-out hilting her nineteen inch beast with every thrust.
Minutes passed, the girl’s body rocking and writhing, though her screams eventually died down to mere sobs, the massive distention on her stomach hammering back and forth, giving away with all possibly clarity for any possible onlookers that the dirty youngster was being repeatedly impaled on something massive.
It was clear that the remorseless pace of the fucking was taking its toll on Anita’s stamina, and it became clear even to the half-conscious Mylene what was happening when the frenzied thrusts into her aching form took on an all-consuming, blazing speed, driving the few screams remaining in her abused body out of her, to be replaced by mewling sobs.
Smacksmacksmacksmacksmack! The sound of balls and pelvises crashing against each other, suddenly, abruptly silenced as the gasping rogue’s speed fell drastically, erratically thrusting but five inches of immensely thick dick back and forth. Her balls were churning, her form tense as goopy spunk pumped from her sloshy balls and up through that enormous cockshaft, to spew directly, forcefully into the urchin’s womb.
Mylene’s back arched, her teeth gritting hard as she felt the climax flood into her defenseless core, everything inside of her awash with potent seed. She continued to twitch weakly, even though she could feel the trembling monstercock slowly but surely moving backwards, out of her, thrusting and spewing fat ropes of semen as it withdrew. The thought of pregnancy hit her, but she was too weak, only barely conscious, to fully register what the consequences of what had happened were.
The powerful ropes of spunk gradually died out, leaving only two panting women in the back-alley. Anita smirked through her gasps, taking a hold of her massive, slick shaft, pressing a finger into the wide cumvein beneath it. She carefully emptied herself, running the finger up along her shaft, squeezing out one last, thick dollop of cum, letting it drip from her tip down onto the abused, gaping mound just below.
The smirk persisted as the black-clad rogue hastily stuffed her deflating shaft into her trousers, getting up on somewhat shaky legs. She took a step away from the gasping girl lying on her back on the ground, then looked back, her words careless. “Y’re much too naïve for the city, shorty. Go back to where y’came.”
With that, the black-clad woman was gone, leaving only a slightly distended womb, sloshing with cum in her wake.