Regrets. Every human builds them up over time. Pewter Jr. III had a few himself, though he was young. He regretted letting another man snatch up his first love before he had even told her how he felt. He regretted not getting in on his little brother’s brewery when he had the chance. He regretted not simply inheriting the family business instead of running off to become an adventurer, and he regretted not saying goodbye to his uncle before the old man left to war. Not to say his uncle was dead, per se, but no one knew where the scamp was or what trouble he’d gotten himself into recently.
More pressingly, however, Pewter regretted not listening to the leader of the adventurer’s guild when he was told that this particular area of the mountain was far over his head. He regretted brazenly attacking the first monster he saw and, far more pressingly than even those, he regretted not spending more time training his endurance. For Pewter hadn’t stumbled across just ANY monster greatly above his ability to defeat, he had caught the interest of what he now knew to be a Manticore, eaters of men. So, full of regrets and devoid of options, Pewter ran on his poorly trained, more delicious than stringy legs.
He didn’t know how long he’d been running. How long since he’d abandoned his pack? How long since he lost his shield, leaving him with only his sword? How long until he abandoned his sword as well? There were no answers, for now there was only more running and the raggedness of his own throat. Several times Pewter slowed, hoping that somehow he had lost his pursuer. Every time he did there would be a flash of movement just barely visible out of the corner of his eye and the run would begin anew.
There was a forest just over the next mountain, Pewter initially hoped he could lose himself in it if he made it that far. He never would of course, he'd collapse into a wheezing heap before he even reached the summit. That thought was a mere pipedream, but another dawned on Pewter as his legs carried him forward out of sheer force of will: he was being toyed with. Manticores had wings, a flying creature would have no trouble catching him in terrain like this. Even something comparatively slow like a Honeybee could’ve swooped down and spirited him away ages ago. The adventurer cursed to himself. Death was near certain, but at the least he refused to die like a crippled mouse being toyed with by a cat.
For the first time in what seemed like days Pewter stopped. He spun and, after several ragged breaths yelled into the rocky emptiness he had escaped from.
“Enough! Come, foul beast!”
Surprisingly enough, it did. A figure leapt skyward from behind a group of boulders and rapidly approached, landing a few paces out of the reach of his naked blade.
“Oh, is the game over already? I suppose our little hero wants to save the princess now?”
The manticore was a hideous beast. With the ears of a fox, the extremities of a hound, leathery wings like a bat, the tail of a demon lizard and the torso of a woman that might otherwise be beautiful had she not looked as if the gods had made a horrid joke only they could laugh at. Pewter’s entire body ached in desire at the sight of it. Desire, he reminded himself, to vanquish the creature.
“Hear me, servant of the Demon Lord! I, Pewter of the great Guild of Adventurers shall slay you in the name of Selia or die trying!”
“Fufufu,” The creature chuckled, “no, I don’t think I’ll let you do either. Ahh, you were really cute earlier, you know? ‘Stand and face your death, vile werebeast!’ You really thought you were going to honorably fight a mamono and walk away a hero, didn’t you? That optimism of yours is adorable!” The horrid beast’s face twisted into a grin that revealed too many sharp teeth as another thought flashed through its mind. “I want to break you.”
“You will break no one, Manticore! Even if you crack my bones and rend my flesh the goddess will protect my spirit!”
“Oh please. Do you even realize that if you die here there won’t be anyone to see but the vultures? No one will sing a tale about your little adventure, you know? Even if you won you’d be too battered to make it to town on your own. You die a pathetic death either way, there’s no goddess protecting you. It would be sad to think about if it wasn’t so delightfully tragic. Keep telling me about your ideals though, I love a little entertainment before a meal.”
“No, enough talk.” Just like in training Pewter raised his sword and charged.
Pewter held an unreasonable amount of honor for an adventurer. He was a man that would call out to an enemy instead of stabbing them in the back, the kind that would have the same enemy prepared to meet his charge. Unfortunately, in the real world when honor and dishonor meet on the battlefield, honor inevitably finds itself disadvantaged.
The novice’s chivalry was rewarded with a faceful of sand.
“Gah! Coward!” Pewter cried out as he blindly lashed out at the empty air with his sword one handed while trying to wipe the grit out of his eyes with the other.
“Funny words from the man that spent half a day running from his enemy.”
The voice danced around him, teasing. Every slice fell upon empty air, every thrust a moment too late. Still, the voice danced.
“Hora, is that all your swordplay can do?” The beast sneered. “If I was swinging a sword I’d do something more. Like. This.” On the last word something heavy fell on the back of Pewter’s blade and it flew from his grasp. Almost before he registered that the sword was gone another weight slammed into his side and pinned him to the ground.
“See? This is how a man and monster should play, up close and personal.” Its voice slid into his ear from above as a womanly scent permeated his nostrils. “Isn’t this muuuuuch better?”
It was incredibly soft. With its weight right on top of him it was impossible to ignore the Manticore’s femininity. Even through his leathers he could feel the swell of its chest against his and its thighs encircling his own. With her beastly appendages out of sight it was… yes, she was beautiful.
“Fufufu, what’s wrong, hero? You look like you just noticed something.”
“I-I’ve noticed nothing! Get off of me, demon spawn!”
Pewter’s struggling was useless. The Manticore’s weight wasn’t great, but her strength was such that no matter how he moved he couldn’t get enough leverage to push her off. Instead, she found the time to remove one of his gloves and pin his hand to the ground.
“Hmm, you have soft hands for an adventurer. Say, have you ever been with a woman before?”
“Of course I have, beast! No man can handle a monster if he can’t handle a woman!”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Pewter took offense to her patronizing tone, but there was little he could do barehanded and on his back. “Tell me,” she began, while raising her bulbous tail above his bare fingers, “did they feel as good as this?”
With that the beast’s monstrous tail snapped down and engulfed his three middle fingers.
Heat. Heat like no woman had before. Ridges of flesh rippled across the skin, drawing his fingers deeper in, aided by her slippery digestive juices coating his fingers in a slick glaze.
Her voice grew husky and breathier as she murmured into Pewter’s ear. “See, I already feel amazing, don't I? And you’ve only put your fingers in. Just imagine fucking my tail with your nice, hard cock. Stop struggling like a stubborn child and we can have some real fun.”
“You sicken me!” With a yell and a burst of strength Pewter finally managed to knock the Manticore away and find his feet, panting. With a start he noticed that her breathing was ragged as well, and not in a way one would expect after fighting.
“Mmm. You know, the more you struggle the more I want to devour you, hero.”
“So be it, monster. You will earn your meal today.” With that, Pewter raised his fists and squared up with his opponent. It was a final display of bravado, he knew, and an embarrassing one with one hand already covered in her slime, but one he was compelled to make regardless. His display was only met with a sneer and one of those nose laughs the creature enjoyed so much.
“Fufu, how courageous. Still, I think I’ll have you hand deliver my meal instead.”
With almost imperceptible speed the Manticore’s tail whipped forward, launching one of her spines into Pewter’s thigh. The adventurer was undone. Numbly he removed the spine from his leg and examined the unexpectedly shallow wound. It had barely pierced deeply enough to hold itself in, but Pewter knew well of the Manticore’s poisonous tail; the end was near. Tossing the spine aside he raised his fists once more and glared at the thing standing in front of him.
“At least let me die with the honor of falling in battle.”
“Hmm… no.”
“So you’ve put your poison into me and now we just stare at each other while I die?”
“Not quite, you’ll see soon enough.”
Then what did the poison do? Pewter took off his shirt as a strange heat and tension began to flow through his body.Would his organs be digested from the inside? He removed his shoes. Would he be paralyzed and watch helplessly as he was devoured, bite by bite? He took off his pants and stood naked before his enemy. Pewter did not want to die, but death was regardless near.
The Manticore simply watched on, arms akimbo with that smirk that seemed characteristic of her. She stood completely still as Pewter took one slow step forward, then another. The moment was near, the manticore knew. Soon she could enjoy the deliciously conflicted expression on the adventurer’s face when he realized his fate. She puffed out her ample chest to greet his rising hand.
“I curse you.” Pewter practically spat.
“Ooh,” The Manticore moaned as the first fingers sank into her flesh, “curse me harder.”
“I— what?” Pewter asked, amazed by his own hands sinking into the marvelously pale flesh before him. “What sorcery is this?” And why had he just stripped?
“Not sorcery,” the manticore sighed as Pewter’s thumb found her nipple and rubbed in a slow circle, “just your true intentions. And you like it."
"And you like it." Not a question, but a statement. He did. He loved sinking his fingers into those milky pale breasts so large only a noblewoman could have them. He loved the sound of the Manticore’s breath escaping in mewling hisses. He loved the salty taste of the hard nipples on her now bare breast as he ran his tongue around the areola, and he loved the goosebumps that rose under his other hand as he ran it up her thigh to her barely covered ass. He loved the hardness that formed between his legs because of the stimulation. He loved all of it, and that fact sickened him.
“Why?” Pewter managed to ask while hungrily moving his mouth from one breast to the other.
“Because it’s what you really want. You can’t keep up those silly pretenses of yours anymore, can you?”
“But Selia forbids-” The sentence was choked off as Pewter drew a line across the Manticore’s chest to the nape of her neck with his tongue.
“‘But Selia forbids, but Selia forbids~’ Let Selia forbid what she wants. You’re just a man, aren’t you?”
He was just a man, but he was still a man with his pride. He was caressing her nape with his mouth, If only he could bite down he might still have a chance of ending the abomination. All he had to do was stop licking the inviting arch of her neck. All he had to do was turn his love bites into something harder. All he had to do was what he wanted to do!
“I’ll show you what happens if you stop fooling yourself with Selia’s words and listen to that cute little manhood of yours, my kitten.”
“No,” Pewter panted into her neck despite himself. “I won’t abandon-”
“No, you don’t think you will.” The manticore grasped the hand still playing with her breast and threw Pewter to the ground. “Not yet.”
The manticore settled atop him once again, this time she perched just below his navel with his dick twitching a scant centimeter from the hot twin globes of her ass. The creature atop him raised her tail to her chest and lovingly stroked it as she looked down on him.
“Do you remember my friend here? I know something even more fun we can do with it.”
Pewter remembered it. That tail had felt like heaven even just coiling around his fingers, and with the spikes on the end retracted it looked a lot less like hell. She couldn’t mean…
“Don’t.”
“I’m going to. Ready? Ooooone.” She let go of her tail and leaned forward., her womanly mounds dangerously close to Pewter’s face.
“You mustn’t.”
“Oh, but I must. Twoooooo.” One of her hands grasped the base of his shaft as her tail poised above it, fluids already dripping onto the tip of Pewter’s straining member.
“I’m begging you!”
“No you aren’t. I haven’t taught you how to beg yet. Three!”
All at once her tail engulfed Pewter’s prick and he was lost in a world of sticky heat, unrivalled suction and uncountable folds. The only movement came from Pewters own hips, thrashing despite the weight on top of him; the almost maddening writhing the her tail demonstrated on his fingers earlier was yet absent. Like a cowboy riding the wildest bull the bulb stuck in place until the bucking of Pewter’s hips subsided.
Exceedingly aroused, and embarrassed because of it, Pewter lay on the ground with his hands covering his face.
“Please,” his voice croaked, though whether due to deepest despair or highest ecstasy he didn’t know, “Just eat me and be done with it.”
“But I’m already devouring the only part of you I want to,” The Manticore giggled.
“But I thought— Manticores eat—” Pewter grasped at any chance he could to distract himself from the pleasure attached to his rod.
“You thought wrong. Manticores don’t eat humans, we just let them think we do so we can see your faces when only part of you ends up inside of us.”
“But the venom—”
“Only makes your body honest. It feels better to just let yourself go, right? And do move your hands. I’ve got a better job for them and I want to look at your face when you cum.” With that she guided both of his hands to her chest and slowly moved her tail.
The weight, the elasticity, the softness of the breasts Pewter kneaded were of the highest class he had ever felt. Of even higher quality, though, was the technique the Manticore ravaged his penis with. The strokes came in sets. four quick strokes just barely covering the tip of his member, and one long, slow stroke. Short short short short, looooong, short short short short, looooong, short short short short, looooong.
Four, five times the adventurer was nearly brought to orgasm, only to have the onslaught stop one stroke short of sending him over the edge. Pewter clenched his teeth, refusing to give the beast the pleasure of hearing him moan. Nine, ten times he almost came. The moans escaped through clenched teeth. Eleven, countless times Pewter almost blew his load into the depths of an enemy. The moans became unsuppressed animal howls. Then the movement stopped.
Slowly Pewter drifted back to reality. He became aware of the panting above him, just barely quieter than his own and he became aware of the shallow puddle of lewd fluids he lay in, his fluids and hers commingled together just as well as his genitals and her tail. He never lost awareness his burning need to spray his seed inside of the thing on top of him.
“Hey,” the manticore teased. “My tail is tired. Move it for me?”
“No,” Pewter gasped even as he leaned forward to hold the bulb in both hands. “I will not!” he finished as he began to angrily impale the bulbous ball of pleasure on his cock.
Fucking the tail was different now. It was loose, like he was thrusting into a Centaur. It was almost as if the walls of the thing had somehow expanded; though he jerked the bulb up and down hard, fast and deep Pewter only slowly moved towards ejaculation. The frustration built, but like a boulder rolling down hill his orgasm did as well. Were the walls tightening?
“Do you still hate me, little kitten? Are you about to cum?” The Manticore’s voice held the same husky timbre Pewter’s own growls had held for some time.
“YES! YES YES YES YES YES!”
The folds around him tightened further. “Is that ‘yes,’ you still hate me, ah... or ‘yes,’ I’m going to let Selia watch me spray my spirit energy inside of this beast?”
It was both. Both of them knew it.
The tail clamped down further and Pewter spiralled down into his own pleasure. At the same time the Manticore moved her head and her tongue spiralled down into his mouth, thrusting his tongue aside to violate his mouth even as his prick thrust her folds aside to violate her tail. With that last act the manticore’s tail tightened down the hardest it ever had and both Pewter’s and the Manticore’s minds ascended to heaven.
Stream after stream of sperm shot out of the adventurer’s dick into the waiting folds of the manticore’s tail. Pewter’s consciousness seemed to fade a bit with every spurt, leaving him only dimly aware of the Manticore thrashing in time with the twitching of his own cock. Only after cumming for what seemed like hours did Pewter finally come down from his high and notice the soft and warm weight on his chest, the girl sighing next to his ear after her own massive orgasm.
“That was…” Pewter began, struggling to put his own thoughts in order.
“Horrifying?” The Manticore finished.
“Yes.”
“Too bad. I guess that means you aren’t up for round two, then?”
Only belatedly did Pewter notice that despite all of the wild thrashing that had occurred between himself and the Manticore that the tail bringing him so much unwanted pleasure had never detached itself and was in fact still lazily sucking the last of his semen out of his urethra. Additionally, despite feeling utterly and completely drained Pewter was in fact up for round two, like it or not.
“You know, I didn’t really get to watch you cum the first time, but you’re going to show me that shameful face lots more before we’re done.”
Pewter tried to form a response, but before he could the tail still sucking onto him clamped down, and the folds that only passively slid past his penis before came to life. It was as if a million tiny tongues carressed his penis, wildly flicking at his head, practically vibrating on the sensitive skin right underneath and stroking his shaft from a thousand different directions. In one second the pleasure of the last eleven or more near orgasms was lavished upon his rod. Immediately Pewter’s hips bucked again as his consciousness was once more sucked into the sinful flesh engulfing his rod.
“Oh, that was a good reaction,” the Manticore cooed before Pewter could come down again, “I wonder what would happen if I moved it at the same time?”
No!
“Ei!”
Flicking, vibrating, and now aggressive stroking sent Pewter over the edge in less than a full stroke. His reaction was like a tetanic fit, every muscle in his body tensing under the onslaught of sensation on his cock, his chest so tight it was hard to breathe. The only movement he seemed to make was the arrhythmic contraction of his dick shooting more and more of his spirit energy deep into the tail. If this pleasure wasn’t hell it would surely be heaven.
“Hora hora, that was even better.” The Manticore licked up the saliva leaking out of the side of Pewter’s mouth and sneered down at him as he tried to rasp out one more plea for mercy. “Noooo way. I told you I wanted to watch you break, didn’t I? Stop wasting energy on whining and focus on cumming until you pass out if you want me to stop.”
The adventurer had little choice in the matter. The tail stroked up and down over and over again, forcing ejaculation after ejaculation out of his already exhausted body. Each time the Manticore’s sneer grew a little wider and she allowed Pewter less time to recover. Eventually the tail that had become Pewter’s entire world stroked down one last time and squeezed out a final shot as Pewter’s vision, his consciousness, his everything flowed away.
The man awoke with a start some time later to fading sunlight, nearly starving and parched like a dessert. He was clothed. Something about that was odd, but he had more pressing concerns. With glee he rolled over and sank his face into the cool pool of water he found himself next to, noisily slurping down the liquid.
“Geeze, it’s about time you woke up,” a now familiar voice called from behind, “It’s been almost three days since you passed out, you know? Your stamina is terrible.”
Pewter was quite sure he had let out enough semen into the manticore behind him to impregnate an entire convent twice over, but that wasn’t important.
“Where are we and what do you intend to do now?”
The Manticore’s response was bored. “We’re not far from the road you probably used to come in, you might even be able to make it back to town by nightfall if you hurry. As for what I intend to do… nothing. Your performance was rather disappointing and I think you’d take more time than I’d like to train properly. If you want to stay and be my pet though, I suppose I could tolerate that.”
“Then you don’t intend to eat or rape me?”
“Are you deaf? My kind don’t actually eat people. Besides, you can hardly call it rape when you were thrusting into my tail so eagerly. Here, take these and go.”
The manticore came forward, carrying Pewter’s heavy pack and sword as if they were nothing. Did she really intend not only to let him go, but also to return all of his equipment AND his weapon? Dubiously, he allowed her to approach. She came closer than she needed to, but didn’t make any sudden movements so Pewter shouldered his pack and turned to go. He took three steps before stopping and turning his head to take one last look at the curvaceous form behind him.
“Returning my things was… kind of you. Thank you.”
“Don’t expect it twice.”
With what little gratitude he owed shown Pewter was ready to leave. Any second now he would walk away and not look back. He was going to return to town and pay more heed to the guild’s advice, maybe see if his father might still let him inherit. Any second now. His feet didn’t move.
“What of your poison, monster?”
“That wore off days ago.” One could hear the sneer in her voice. “There’s nothing influencing your body but your own mind right now.”
Yes, that was true. Through force of will Pewter had managed to avoid tackling the beast and thrusting his manhood into the hole she hadn’t allowed him to use before. With effort he hadn’t dived back into her lips. By chiding himself he had kept his hands away from the pale globes hanging so invitingly from her chest. Yet even as he recited the church dogma to focus his will, Pewter knew what he wanted. He wanted to play with those magnificent breasts, to fence with her tongue, to thrust into her deepest depths; those had brought bliss like the words of the church never had. Pewter’s body was more honest than his mind. It had been the entire time, and through his racing thoughts he realized that his head was coming around to follow the path his penis had already blazed. With a sigh and one last mental prayer to Selia Pewter dropped his pack and turned to face the creature.
“I will stay.”
The Manticore cocked her head, just barely managing to keep a straight face. “Not as a man you won’t. I don’t have any need for a man. Does that mean you want to be my pet?”
“I…” The shame was almost unbearable. Still, in his heart Pewter knew. “I will be your pet.”
The Manticore nodded. “Good, but not like that. Strip and kneel.”
There was no going back; Pewter complied, making himself as naked as the day he was born and kneeling on both knees. As if in response the Manticore untied her top, leaving those marvelous breasts exposed to the air, the nipples slowly hardening, and approached. From this vantage she towered over the adventurer.
“Now then… from here on you will call me ‘Mistress’ and you will be my little kitten. Do you understand, little kitten?”
Pewter grated his teeth. “Yes… Mistress.”
“Good. Now,” She began as she pulled down the sparse fabric covering her already moistening pussy, “You’re going to answer a few questions for me. Ah ah, my eyes are up here.” Pewter’s gaze had wandered downward, but telling him to look upward scarcely mattered when her breasts hung so near what he was instructed to look at.
“What does Selia say about consorting with Mamono?” The Manticore asked, her tail swaying tantalizingly just on the edge of Pewter’s vision.
He had no trouble remembering. “It is not to be done. Monsters are to be slain on sight and, if you aren’t capable of doing so yourself, the proper individuals should be contacted. That is Selia’s highest commandment.”
“Oh?” Pewter’s new master asked, squatting down so that her face was level with his and her legs spread just wide enough to give him an idea of what was to come. “And what do you think of Selia’s highest commandment right now?” She no longer even bothered to hide the sadistic grin on her face. Pewter paused to consider the question, but both of them already knew the answer.
“I couldn’t care less.”
“Ding-dong!” Master cooed as she stroked his cheek with the back of a paw. “The good kitty deserves a reward.”
Pewter allowed his own smile to show as his mistress’s tail descended once again upon his already hard manhood. This choice he would not regret.
The end