FSE

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The new arrival stumbles into the chamber, the cold of the darkened room a significant departure from the burning heat outside. The floor is soft, and the carpet is of a luxurious design that she had never witnessed before. Her bare toes curl against the delicate threads, providing a comforting warmth in a situation that otherwise raises goosebumps over her exposed skin.

She wears little, and what she does pushes her breasts and accents her hips. The blush rushes to her face as she looks around.

High above, figures sit. One of them smiles with curved tusks revealing themselves. Another sits tall and proper with feminine grace.

The curved-tusked individual waves his hand, and the chamber behind her opens up.

The new servant's eyes widen, and her shame disappears when she sees the hulking form standing before her. From his pants so tight, she can see the bulging cock beyond, to the abs so defined, she could be afraid to cut herself on them, and then to those pecs where…

Where he has a face leering at her.

“A… ah. What?"

The headless man, Caput, steps forward, his firm, calloused grip holding onto her arms.

The servant girl swoons at the strength and speed with which he approaches her. His kisses come above her navel and are as dominant as she had expected from this exercise, yet with a tenderness that she wasn't expecting from such a creature.

“Blemyes," says the tusked leader to his guest, “are quite the physical specimens, but it is at the cost of their mental capabilities. Because they lack the skulls to house their brains, they must hold such vital organs where they keep their heart and lungs. If they had the cognitive ability of even humans, they would be far more dangerous than they are."

Caput doesn't listen to those words. He's endured enough of that bias and torture in these lands and knows his master is playing it up for the guest. Instead, he slides his hands over the servant girl's shoulders, pulling the revealing top aside to bring her to the same chest-nakedness as he. Though she has no face between her shoulders, he likes to press the soft pillows upon himself, taking a deep breath as he enjoys the closeness and the warmth.

His is a life of simple desires furnished by his employer and master. He needed to provide a good, old-fashioned show of pure male virility.

With the servant lulled into gentle sighs and coos, he tugs his pants down, his massive member flopping out, letting her mostly-exposed flesh feel its pulsing warmth.

Her gasp of surprise comes out high and quick, just like her grunt from falling back onto the rug.

Caput pulls the thong she wears away from her sex with little effort, sliding the length over the gently moistened core.

“Of course," his lord Anish says, “She is quite ready to bed a beast. Who would have thought that a girl of her dignified status would willingly sign herself over into my palatial servitude?"

His guest chuckles herself. “Anteronian women can lose themselves so easily. She could have been an excellent politician or a researcher at the Academy. And yet, here she is."

Caput's hands slide their rough palms down along her body, over her thighs, down her calves, and to her ankles. He spreads her legs and lifts them in a single motion, standing over her, his cock slapping down and pulling back as she lays on her shoulders, forced to watch and yet not regretting that moment.

She bites her lip and curls her toes, but nothing prepares her for the sheer girth of the mighty man's only head penetrating her. She arcs her back, shouting out into the room, filling the theater with her passion and desire.

“Please, as if her employment here bars her from potential opportunities," Anish says. “If she proves herself useful and studies hard, I'm sure she'll upgrade herself from a simple whore to a courtesan of the highest order. A servant that not only serves but is served as well. Is there nothing more delightful in life?"

Her eyes roll back, one eyelid flickering and the other open wide. She sweats and gasps and cries out in incoherent sounds as Caput dives deeper into her, furrowing her pecs and grunting through a closed-lipped expression.

This is what he loves about the job—when they cry out for him and appreciate what he does for them. This is what it means to be a good servant for others—to provide them delights and give them everything they want in the moment… to make them forget the cruel realities of the world that lies beyond.

He slows down, closing his eyes, a thought running through his mind causing his momentum to shift and slow. He sighs, his gaze hollow as he remembers his home.

But that is when the soft flesh of her thighs brush against him. He blinks and focuses on her to see a face glancing up at him, panting, groaning, and smiling, questioning.

“W… why… did you… stop…?"

Such a question, filled with desire and concern, urges him forward. He lays her down and climbs atop her, penetrating deep into her body as he wraps his arms around her form, holding her close.

“Not much of a show, is it?" asks the guest, resting her hand upon her cheek.

“Perhaps, from a certain point of view," Anish says. “But what you see here is a connection between two who know nothing of one another. Perhaps, this is the greatest form of poetic expression these two can have."

A deep gravelly groan and a high-pitched cry fill the arena, the woman's fingers digging deep into his back. The two of them complete their union in a glorious burst of pleasure. And though they may never see each other again, they have forgotten all of their worries for this one moment. And that is what makes it precious.