This story was written as a part of the "
Tales of Leinyere
" event on Literotica, a collaborative fantasy worldbuilding event from many talented Literotica authors. Look for the event on Literotica's story page to find links to a map of Leinyere, the official timeline of all our stories, and links to all the stories in the event from all the fantastic authors who have participated. Thanks for stepping into this world with us, and happy reading!
All characters participating in sexual activities are over 18 years of age, or their own age of majority if higher.
—
Rising Heat
The Mistveil Woods were rightfully considered the territory of the Elves. They knew the ins and out of the area far better than anyone else could hope to, especially over their long lives. This is not to say that they were the only ones there. Ones and twos, there would always be people of other kinds almost anywhere. Occasionally, this also meant a pocket would crop up.
In a little-traveled corner of the Mistveil, close to the ocean, was a town. A town whose residents were quite happy to be out of everyone's way. Let kings and men vie for power, let empires rise and fall. A tiny village called Hoof's Rest just... existed. Five major lineages of Beastfolk, each a hair over a hundred strong at any given time, lived there with remarkably little in the way of problems. Sure, fights happened. The Otters made a bad joke about the Cowfolk where one could overhear, the Sheep and Wolves and Cats got snippy about diets, and some teens got into a scuffle. No biggie. They all knew, though, that they were blessed to be there. Out of the way.
It was a tradition for young adults there to go out and see what they wished of the world. Some came back wiser, or with a trade. Some brought back goods or knowledge. Some brought nothing, others a new spouse. Some never returned, their absence an occasion for sorrow. In this way did the village maintain its presence.
Life was what a richer place might call "provincial." For most, each day was a set routine. Revelations and changes were rare. Bakers baked, tailors sewed, builders built, and children came up in the traditions to take their peaceful place.
Then again, there was one other, much newer tradition. See, Beastfolk have an issue. Once a moon, their women tended to go into a vicious Heat cycle. Their brains dialed in on exactly one thing: acquiring a penis and using it until they could feel it paint their insides white. This had, of course, caused some awkwardness in the past, and overcrowding on occasion.
An outlet was needed. Thankfully, one of those rare innovations happened when a cow girl named Liza came back from a brief excursion into the world with an oddity in tow. Tall for his kind, small by comparison to most of this village. He looked human, mostly anyway, with ever so slightly pointed ears the only sign of his odder heritage. A Half-Elf, by the name of Tad. One who, upon hearing of the village and its ongoing issue, did some research, and immediately became one of the most devout worshippers of Cuvehr ever to walk the land.
—
The morning shone bright in the early Autumn, as Tad took his morning bath. What he did required a few things to be scrupulously maintained, cleanliness was one of them. He scrubbed his short, brown hair and took his time with his pale skin. Yesterday had been his day off, so today would likely be busy.
Liza entered without bothering to knock, this being the normal time of their day together. A simple shirt, open at the front but fastened closed by a belt, covered her enormous breasts. A dress was over her broad hips, as her well-muscled body moved and flexed the way it always had. These and her unusual (to Tad, anyway) spotted fur is what led them originally to hooking up as she traveled through the other Mistwood settlements. The intensity and quality of their lovemaking was one of the reasons she decided to keep him. They weren't precisely married, but nobody in town really thought of them as anything else.
As he kept scrubbing, she pulled out a well-used bucket and undid her belt, her breasts tumbling out unrestrained and huge. Her hands worked them, warming them up, then started deeply stroking them from base to tip. More than a foot of flesh loosened on each side, her nipples giving droplets of their bounty as she got started emptying the one on the right into the bucket. "Breakfast time, Tad. Drink up."
Tad was ready, having gotten himself out and dried. The second thing he had to make sure was to keep up nutrition. Especially his protein. As she worked her right breast to express milk for other purposes, he took her left into his mouth and began to drink deeply. Liza's eyes closed in near-orgasmic pleasure, this daily ritual being one of her daily highlights every morning.
"Ah, yes, get it all, Tad! Today is going to be a busy day, after all."
He came up for air, for just one moment. "Running heavy today on your side, too. You taste like almost pure cream. Um. I think I remember three?"
A third thing that was required? Willingness to run a very tight calendar. Hoof's Rest had a population of about 500 souls. About two-thirds of those were married or otherwise not needing his services, and about half of the rest were men. That still left more than eighty women dealing with unregulated heat cycles every twenty-eight days. With one day of rest each week, that meant three to four needing assistance daily.
As Tad continued his meal, Liza continued to lay out his schedule. "The full moon is coming, you know it's always busier. You have five customers today, the first will be here in about an hour. Isabella, from the Shineshells. Her's hit yesterday unexpectedly, so she's going to be a bit desperate."
She was starting to empty on this side, the pressure easing and the taste getting sweeter. "Okay, so no jog this morning." The fourth job requirement was a certain level of fitness. Although it mostly came naturally as a result of the job duties, he frequently had to supplement it to make sure he kept up with both strength and endurance. He was barely 40, after all, it would not do to have a life cut short by a coital heart attack. No matter how good the headstone would look.
He finished his deep drink. She finished filling most of the pail, then turned around and bent over for him. She was close, so very close, to the peaks of her own pleasure. Most mornings she was at a tolerable buzz after this, but today wasn't most mornings. She was soaked and ready for him, and Tad took the hint. Standing, he smoothly entered her as she lowed in pleasure. In and out, the feel of silk and honey gripping him. He knew what she liked, carefully aiming himself for her maximum pleasure. Between the technique and the warmups, she came in short order. He did not join her this time, because the fifth thing that he needed was a lot of restraint.
In short, his customers needed him to orgasm within them to satisfy their urges and bring them back fully to sanity. He was not Beastkin, so his fertility was sharply limited with them. His Half-Elven heritage exaggerated this effect even further, which meant that he was almost completely safe for the local women to have all the sex they needed. Thing is, what they needed was for him to orgasm within them. The feel of cum striking their womb was what extinguished the Heat that burned these women. No matter how dedicated he was to the task, he was one man. There were only so many times each day he could do this successfully, so when he didn't need to spray his seed he needed to make sure he didn't do so. No masturbation. No orgasms outside of a Heating customer except for once on each off day, to keep up production.
Liza was not in Heat. She just needed the pleasure, and he was very, very practiced at giving it. To Beastkin in general, and her in particular.
He cleaned himself back up and at least stretched out before Isabella Shineshell arrived. She was a shy and retiring kind of Otter... normally. Dark of fur with the sleek and trim build of her kind, only around five and a half feet tall. Isabella wore only the easily-discarded robe common to Otterfolk, who frequently found themselves diving and didn't want clothing interfering. There was a tap of metal on ceramic as she dropped a coin into his jar, and without waiting or explaining further demonstrated just how quickly the robe could be dropped.
No matter how often he did this, Tad never failed to get excited and aroused by the sight of willing, eager women disrobing for him. In Isabella's case, her breasts were small, her hips narrow, her body fit with muscle from constant swimming. He knew from experience that Otterfolk had exceedingly good breath control to go with it, but that was not what he was here for today.
It wasn't her first time with him, though her first time had, in fact, been with him. Not too terribly long before, either. She practically pulled him to his own "office", the secondary bedroom he maintained on the first floor of his house, specifically for time with clients. Her powerful tail wrapped around his waist and made sure he kept pace as she strode that way with a sense of purpose. A purpose that, if it wasn't clear from the nudity, scent of desire, and the fact that she was at a Heat Specialist's house, became abundantly so as she got to the bed and jumped on, landing on her back with legs spread.
Tad was out of his own robe swiftly and climbed on top of her. Otters tended to be very... active... participants even when they weren't this desperate. Wiggling and winding about their partners, nuzzling, nibbling, and putting their hands all over. And claws. As Tad grabbed her and began to thrust in, Isabella was perhaps not the most gentle or careful she could have been.
Item number six on the job requirements: one's choice of pain tolerance or masochism.
His lovemaking with the Otter girl resembled a wrestling match more than anything, with boundaries at the edge of the bed. Isabella twisted and rotated her body into every contortion imaginable, but by the time Tad orgasmed some minutes later she had both arms and legs gripping him close. The sensation of his seed striking home drove her Heat-addled mind well over the edge, and her inner muscles did their best to milk him for every drop they could.
