The Axe-Man is back with another filthy fantasy. Be warned that this story contains non-consent and futa-on-male scenes. As such, it should not be read by anyone. Enjoy :)
-Ax
***
She worked at the bakery
It was a tasty little pie shop
And she had all the goodies
Like a heaving bosom that makes your eyes pop
-
She had all the fellows
Every Tom, Dick and Harry hanging 'round
But she declined Tom and Harry
Dick is all she ever thinks of now
-
Yes she's got Dick on her mind all the time
She hugs him and kisses him, squeezes him so tight
When he goes to bed she tucks him in sometimes
Because she's got Dick on her mind all the time
***
The bard's bawdy song was not the only sound filling the summer night air, there was the drunken laughter accompanying it, the constant murmur of chatter, crackling of the fire and chorus of chirping of crickets in the dark. The two amazon guards walked along the dim path as they patrolled the area where the merchant caravan had set up camp, a stone's throw from the city walls. They were approaching the lit area filled with revellers.
"Here we go, more drunken idiots to keep in line," said the muscular woman with a half-shaved head.
"Each day with the company is coins in our pocket," replied her companion.
"I'm having my doubts that it's worth it, Alkaia. You said we would face glorious combat, so far there have only been inept scuffles."
"I said we may face some great dangers, and we may still yet. The caravan is a tempting target for bandits and raiders."
"And I may sprout wings and fly home. If it weren't for the High Priestesses directive that we travel together, I would likely be back home by now."
"Yes, so eager to get back and share your blessing with Iphito, no doubt. But then, how long would it be before you had the opportunity to venture out of the great jungle again?"
"Don't care, I've seen enough. Most men are no better than rats. I wouldn't mind if I never see another one. I'm going to take a piss, I'll catch up with you."
"Yeah, sure. Don't go flying off to the jungle now, Quinn," said Alkaia, her companion made an obscene gesture and then turned and headed off the dirt path. The tall lightly-armored warrior continued walking toward the light and music and activity.
A pair of drunken men were staggering down the path toward her, merrily attempting to recant the "Dick" song, but it only sounded like an off-key slurred mess. "Holy shit, that's a big woman!" exclaimed one of them looking up at her. "I could put a saddle on her and ride her 'round the city."
"Haha, she's got big titties. Maybe she would like havin' us mount 'er," laughed his mate.
Alkaia let out an annoyed grunt. Her sour companion did have a point about men. She chose to ignore the heckling drunkards as she walked past. If they spoke like that with Quinctilia, they would likely be knocked to the ground.
She soon entered the torch-lit area where the music was playing, young women were dancing and the wine and ale was flowing. Alkaia felt the amulet above her hefty breasts begin to warm. This had her on edge, it was a warning that magic power was being called in the area, subtle as it was. And it wasn't the first time it had mysteriously activated while she had been traveling with the caravan. The guard carefully scanned the area, but couldn't see where it may be coming from. Perhaps it was just affected by the magical trinkets that some of the merchants traded in.
There was one unexpected sight that caught her attention. Young Marion Martel was there amongst the dancers, dressed in loose brightly colored pants and small tube top covering her budding breasts. She was showing a lot of her smooth pale skin. A tall, pudgy city man in a grey suit, twice her age was talking to her. Marion giggled as she dipped and swayed, her long blonde braids swinging around her slender frame.
Alkaia knew the young woman was out of place here. Her protective mother was not around, and the guard knew that she would not like this. She strode up to the pair of them and caught some of what the man was saying—"...where that came from, just come into wagon for a private dance. What do you say, Sweet thing?"
"So you like my dancing?" Marion smiled.
"Oh yes. Come and show me more," he then reached forward and gripped her wrist, trying to pull her forward. The young dancer didn't seem too perturbed by this and let out another giggle.
Alkaia's hand came down and gripped the man's shoulder hard. "Let her go!" she said in a stern voice. "She doesn't give private dances."
The man turned and looked up at the large tan woman with a muscular, shapely body partially covered in light leather and scale armor and bold tribal tattoos. He had a distasteful look on his face as he let go of the girl's arm. Marion looked up at the Amazon and gave a bright smile, "Hello Alkaia, what do you think of my new outfit? Silvia leant it to me. And I had my hair done like yours"
Her hair did look similar to Alkaia's, tied back with several long braids, some weaved together and few larger braids hanging loose. Only Marion's was a sandy blonde as opposed to dark brown. "What are you doing, Marion?"
"Dancing...obviously."
"Does your mother know you're out here?"
The young blonde pulled an exaggerated sour expression, "My mother doesn't know as much as she thinks my mother knows!"
"Have you been drinking?"
"No!" she said, shaking her head. But it seemed fairly obvious to Alkaia that she was not her usual self.
