The coarse saddle blanket rubbed against the skin of Ane’s exposed back. It was better than the prickling straw loosely mounded beneath.
Ane was far more absorbed by the equally bear body above him. Lips pressed against his, softness periodically parting to nip at his own.
Hands explored in a rhythmic cycle. They both sought to feel the other and equally to draw the opposing body closer.
Viss began slowly grinding the slickness between her legs against his right thigh. The feeling of friction and warmth finally brought Ane to full erectness.
His hands shifted from pulling her against him to gently guiding the soft body away. Viss rolled to the side and Ane found his way above her.
Lips found a nipple. His tongue circled the soft skin and brought forth twitching gasps.
A hand trailed down to the place her thigh met the mons. Breath caught as fingers stroked the edge of her labia.
Viss wove a hand past his and grasped the shaft pressed against her. Ane responded by sliding a finger through the barrier of labia and into the wetness beyond.
Ane moved slowly, carrying the moisture inside to the folds. Viss released him and pushed his body away.
Her knees pulled up to her breast. Ane moved atop. Preparation and familiarity allowed his tip to slide in.
Ane met resistance and pulled back. Slickness was carried out with him, and he slid further in the next time.
Soon his body met hers. Viss squeezed him. Ane took the message. He began a slow rhythmic stroke.
The gliding motion against her clenching channel built in speed and intensity. Her entrance gripping him finally brought Ane to his limit. Warm pulses carried his seed into her milking muscles.
Ane slowed. Long deep strokes continued until he finally pulled himself out.
As a younger less prudent man Ane might have taken the chance to rest on his laurels. Two fingers filled the abandoned channel.
Ane returned to the same tempo as before. Fingers curled to glide against her anterior wall in a facsimile of his earlier motions.
Kisses trailed down her chest and soft stomach. Viss spread her labia back to ease access.
Ane sucked and rolled the tiny nub as his fingers worked in and out below. Soon her unconscious thrusting against his digits and sharp inhalations reached a breaking point.
Viss spasmed against Ane. He slowed his motions as she rode out her own climax on his fingers.
She gradually calmed. Ane felt a hand rest on his head. Viss lightly pushed him away. Her flushed navy face became visible from one of his favorite angles. That being looking up at it from between her thighs.
“I would love you to keep doing… that. But I have… real work to do.” Her speech broke periodically as he made practiced use of his hand’s location and her still heightened arousal.
“But it's so nice down here.” Ane gave his best wounded puppy-dog eyes. Viss scoffed and shoved him off.
Ane gave no actual resistance. But rolled away and clutched at his chest in mock agony. “Fair maiden! Your rejection claws at my soul.”
Viss rolled off the impromptu mattress and started collecting her clothes from the stable floor. “I would never have imagined such a mysterious and worldly stranger would be so easily struck down.” She responded through a smirk.
Her breasts vanished behind her undershirt and flattened as she tied the strings. Ane took the hint and switched from exaggerated distress to seeking his own discarded garments.
Viss wiped away the mixture of seman and transudate seeping out between her legs before pulling her trousers on. The minor enchantment on the handkerchief would gradually cleanse itself of the mixture of fluids and be just as absorbent and starile next time she used it.
Ane was a little envious of the low grade item. Despite being cheap in terms of permanent enchantments, the cloth represented several weeks wages for a common laborer even in the heart of civilization.
In a rural village such a thing could take years of saving to afford. That was for an item that could be replaced by periodically boiling half a dozen common rags.
It truly drove home the exorbitant wages paid to those willing to work on the edge of the Dark Moors. Viss was the outpost’s groom, if an experienced one. But she likely made more than a trained artisan in the capital even as a glorified stable girl.
Ane was no less subject to the Dark Moors’ wealth. He made more each year he ran the full loop of border fortresses than he had in a decade carrying letters from one farming village to the next.
The saddle bags Viss was now affixing to his new mount illustrated part of why his figurative pockets were so full. It was not the size of his load. It was the opposite.
Minimal packages were strapped alongside his rations and magically light camping gear. The horse they were attached to was bred for prolonged sprints.
It would have been nice to believe that was to hasten his journey. But Ane knew it was to give him a chance of outrunning the things he might happen upon.
The saddle and tackle contained a small fortune in short duration swiftness enchantments. Hazards of both a natural and unholy nature were not guaranteed to stay within the nebulous border of the Dark Moors.
“Syl here has really calmed down in the last few months, but she still runs like your bowels after a pound of hog-root.” Ane came up behind Viss and wrapped his arms around the taller alma’s waist.
“That was a disgusting metaphor.” He murmured as she finished checking his saddle.
“Nonsense. That was a simile.” Ane retorted by moving his hands under her shirt and doing his best to be distracting.
“Didn’t you come in here because you need to set out?” Viss made no attempt to hide her exasperated amusement.
“I suppose that was part of it.” Ane stroked light circles on her stomach. “A small part.”
It would have been nice to migrate his wandering hands to more intriguing places. But Viss was right about them both having work to return to.
They already spent most of their free time the previous day and night together in both the carnal and social sense. The same had been true twice a year for over half a decade.
Neither had any illusions they were the only person warming the other's bed. But they were when Ane passed through.
He was finally forced to pull away when Viss began leading Syl outside. A parting kiss that involved only a little teeth preceded Viss lifting Ane up bodily and setting the smaller alma onto his horse.
The outpost was soon disappearing behind. Ane rode down the quickly fading path. Before long the grass had obscured the way entirely.
Ane pulled out his way-finder from a breast pocket. It still pointed back towards outpost 5C. But twisting the rings around the edge of the enchanted compass caused the needle to spin wildly.
His free hand swatted at a sharp pain on his collar bone. The needle settled. It bounced back and forth a few times before settling on his destination.
Ane examined the crushed deer fly and smear of his own green blood on his palm. He scraped the mess off on the edge of his saddle and redoubled his intention to buy something to repel at least the mundane pests.
He shifted Syl’s path to better align with the way-finder’s needle. The dryness in his throat was remedied by a swig from his waterskin.
The enchanted vessel would gradually accumulate water from the air. But the process was slow enough that it was best to conserve the contents. That made the persistent thirst frustrating.
A brief flash of lightheadedness caused Ane to sway in his seat. That was when he realized something was wrong.
Ane brought Syl to a halt and tried to dismount. He did not make it.
Ane gradually drifted to consciousness. His body felt numb. His tongue seemed too large for his mouth. The pounding pressure behind his eyes made it hard to focus.
He was definitely on a solid, cold and uneven surface. Jagged bits of the ground scraped bear skin, revealing an evident lack of clothing.
His third attempt finally forced crusty eyes open. Sunlight shone down from a gap between two boulders above. Those same boulders combined with several other slabs to make a talus cave.
Ane winced as he pushed himself up. The stabbing pain in his left arm indicated something was wrong. It still moved fine, despite the bruising coming in.
That bruising was not limited to his arm. A patch was darkening on his outer thigh on the same side. It was easy to guess Ane had landed on his left. The question was whether it was falling off Syl or after he lost consciousness.
The ground Ane propped on was tilted and uneven itself. But the bigger concern was how all the walls were greater than ninety degrees.
Ane scrutinized the formation in search of any possible way to the opening twenty feet above. Every path would require the ability to hang from the underside of solid stone.
A kind of focused calm pervaded as the reality of the situation settled in. He was naked and trapped. There was no sign of a captor. But a conscious actor must have brought him to the cave.
Ane stood with care. Hands searched the bear stone for any handhold. That search halted as a shift in light drew his attention to the narrow opening above.
The figure blocking the light raised goosebumps across Ane’s exposed flesh. A near featureless mask hid the black creature's face. If that was a mask at all…
Ane realized the smooth ebony skin merged seamlessly with the chitinous covering. No mouth, nose or eyes were recognizable. Only a slightly curved plate that reflected like the shell over a beetle’s wings.
The body was roughly shaped like an alma. But it lacked blemish, hair or anything else to give distinction.
Flying insects swarmed around its form. Occasionally the flies landed on its abyssal flesh and took on an unnerving stillness, becoming almost impossible to distinguish from the creature itself.
Ane stood paralyzed as the creature moved the hand not supporting its weight into view. He wanted to speak, whether to demand answers or scream. But it felt as if moving would trigger the creature to strike across the distance.
It gripped something gray and serpentine. Ane absently noticed the creature’s lack of visible finger nails.
The pitch hand released the writhing creature. It dropped. Ane found the will to stumble back from the serpent’s trajectory.
The slanting ground proved too precarious for his abrupt retreat. He slipped and fell, barely avoiding bashing his skull on the rock wall.
Ane tried to roll onto all fours. But a burst of pain at the base of his spine caused him to jerk in shock and lose his partial footing. The pain was replaced by a tingling sensation that spread up to his skull and out to the extremities.
Twisting revealed a glimpse of the snake-like creature coiling behind him. It was somewhere around his legs. Ane tried to scramble away. But the creature followed.
Ane grabbed the serpent in panic and flung it. Or he tried. A stab of pain caused him to immediately let go. Not pain from his hand. Pain from his sacrum.
But the pain was not why he let go. It was the feeling of his own hand grabbing a part of his body that should not have been there.
Ane finally made it to his feet. Spinning failed to reveal the creature on the cave floor. But he already knew it would not.
It was there. Not just when he focused on it. The thing was sprouting from his lower back as clearly as his arm sprouted from his shoulder.
It stopped when Ane did. He tentatively moved it from side to side. Then carefully brought it around the side of his hip.
The surreal sight of the smooth gray appendage not quite reaching his groin brought back the focused calm. Ane knew his mind was shifting from fight or flight back to crisis management. But that knowledge was not important in the moment.
It was indisputable that the serpentine attacker had become an appendage. One that felt concerningly natural both to move and simply have.
The small gray tendril was more like a worm now that Ane could evaluate it close up. It lacked scales and did not come to the narrow point of a snake. But its skin was closer to that of an alma than the moist flesh of an earthworm.
Ane glanced up to the hole above. The faceless creature had vanished at some point during the struggle. But Ane could see a handful of insects still landed on the rocks around the opening.
It proved hard to see the place his body met the foreign limb. But feeling the area revealed a slight seam between his skin and the alien flesh.
Ane could feel both with equal clarity. Any attempt to separate them caused pain comparable to ripping out his own fingernails.
Pulling hard on the tail was even worse. And that was what it was. The position and clear connection to his body and mind made the name obvious. Even if the limb was not a natural appendage.
Ane carefully sat on the flattest part of the stone floor. The tail curled up between his legs in a way so reflexive that he would not have noticed without consciously thinking about it.
The ebony creature must have brought him to the natural oubliette. Ane had never seen anything like it in reality. But the featureless mask and pitch skin was unsettlingly familiar.
The Divine Discord was a staple of every harvest festival across Rojin. In small villages the costumes were simple home made things if present at all. But professional performers had common and recognizable designs that marked each player in the fall of the dark gods.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
All the named gods had distinctive and often intricate regallia. But the nameless swarm of dark gods that danced around the Dissenter and his court were eerily similar to the creature.
Black form-fitting fabric or body paint and a featureless mask of the same non-color. The design was simple and ment to make the dancers blend together.
But the resemblance was present no matter how vague. Could the creature be a cultist? Or the creation of a cultist?
Everyone knew that people depraved enough to worship the dark gods existed. Word or rumor of sects being discovered bubbled up every few years.
But the Church of the Creator ensured such things never moved beyond the dark and hidden places of the world. Ane laughed at the morbid irony of that thought.
He was naked at the bottom of a pit somewhere in the unpopulated territory not Rojin, Rillan, T’narg or even the Merchant States cared to claim properly. The gods forsaken Dark Moors were a few days hard ride away.
If there was anywhere that qualified as dark and hidden, this was it. Roaming abominations and violent outlaws were part of his job description. And now that was coming back to bite him in the ass. Maybe literally.
Ane absently wrapped the gray tendril around his flaccid penis and moved the shrunken phallus from side to side. He let go and pressed the tail flat against his stomach.
It reached just past his navel. That felt longer than his first assessment. Ane thought it was only the width of his pointer finger when he first saw it. But now he could tell it was thicker than his thumb.
Ane was no mage and lacked a formalized education. He liked to think of himself as worldly. More worldly than those who stayed in the village of his birth.
But demons, necromancers and dark forces were things left to priests and mages. All he had was enough critical thinking and skepticism to doubt campfire tales would be of any help when facing the reality of unholy magics.
Ane frowned as he watched his absently flicking new limb. Adjusting his position and moving the tail away revealed a patch of discolored skin on his inner thigh.
It had taken a moment to differentiate it from the tail tucked in his crena and to the side of his scrotum. The color was nearly identical in the dim light of the cave.
The blot was a few fingers wide and disappeared behind his leg. Ane felt a chilling dread as he twisted and craned to see his own backside.
The gray flesh was spreading up his back and down his thighs. It had already claimed his ass as far as he could tell.
The source was obvious. And it definitely proved the effects were not limited to a new diminutive appendage.
The stories of necromancers warping people into things in the Dissenter’s image crept very unwanted into his mind. Deathless abominations kept from joining the Creator in a distorted facsimile of life.
Ane returned to his feet. He frantically sought a way up. A rock that moved. A hidden crevice to squeeze through. Anything would do.
There was nothing. Every wall angled aggressively towards the ceiling’s center. Some even looked freshly broken. Dust, chips and jagged stone implied a conscious effort to remove handholds or footing by a mage or similar force.
Ane even tried yanking at the parasitic tail again. This time there was no debilitating pain. Only the unpleasant feeling of having an arm tugged too hard. Except in a place he had never possessed an arm.
Feeling out the area revealed no seam where his body ended and the creature began. It was unbroken skin he could no longer differentiate.
The gray coloration had continued to creep across his grass green skin. Every time Ane glanced at it the shade had spread further.
It already reached the top of his feet and shoulders. Tendrils of gray had started down his arms. He guessed the same was true for his neck.
His tail curled anxiously. It felt completely natural. No different from the twitching of his fingers.
With shock Ane realized the new limb was near his ankles. Reaching straight down with it touched the cold stone.
Ane brought it up and around. The smooth skin was warm in his hands. It was now over two fingers thick all the way to its blunt tip.
The skin seemed a bit looser on the last inch or two and puckered at the very end. Ane gently poked at the folded skin. It was sensitive in a way very familiar.
Ane carefully parted the folds to reveal a tiny slit reminiscent of the tip of his penis. The skin protecting it was not dissimilar to the very end of his foreskin.
But it merged with the slit at its edge rather than remaining separate across the head. There was nothing that clearly resembled the head of a penis. The tail continued roughly uniform all the way to the end.
Ane carefully moved the skin around. The sensitivity was not pleasurable. But that was in the same way touching his phallus in his current mental state would not have provided sexual pleasure.
His hands distracted Ane from the surreal experience. The gray tone had spread over his fingers at some point.
A quick examination found no green skin anywhere visible without a mirror. He doubted a mirror would have shown anything different.
The realization accompanied a prickling chill that sent sweat beading across his whole body. The process had completed. But there was no way to know if more sinister effects were to come.
Undead in stories were either the slaves of wicked mages or souls torn from the natural order by the dark gods. Distorted bodies and rotting flesh underpinned both versions.
The hunger for flesh, blood and innocent souls was a grimmer prospect. Driven by unnatural desires or an unholy master to butcher his friends and family.
Who would they send him after? Viss came to his mind’s eye. Outpost 5C was the closest. Unless he was carried a significant distance while unconscious.
Ane resolved to stop himself before he could hurt anyone. If he could. If he was still him by that point.
It felt like his thoughts were still the same. But how would he know if his mind was unchanged? Not when the mind was being judged by itself.
He did not know if he could stop himself permanently. Not even if his mind was entirely his own when making that choice. He could only hope it did not come to that.
Ane slowly realized the layer of moisture on his skin was not ordinary perspiration. It felt viscous. Pulling two fingers apart left a strand of slime between the digits before the thread snapped.
It was like a slick mucus oozing from every pore. A sense of analytic calm krept over Ane.
He should have been panicking. He certainly had when the gray first began spreading. Instead he absently watched the sludge build up on his gray form. There was nothing he could do but watch and wait.
The slime appeared clear at first. But it rapidly became milky as it thickened. The coating accompanied a strange sensation of shifting movement inside.
Ane fidgeted in something that was not exactly discomfort. When he stopped moving it became obvious that bones, muscles and things he could not name were moving outside of his own control.
It should have been agonizing. Ane could tell joints were shifting as bones stretched and shrunk. Muscles contracted at angles slightly off from how they had for Ane’s entire adult life.
But it was only unsettling. No recognizable sensation of discomfort accompanied the alien experience.
Ane ran their hands up and down their thighs. The rhythmic movement distracted from the foreign motion within.
Their skin felt loose under the layer of mucus. With every stroke it slid further than alma skin should. Then it tore.
Ane froze. A thin yet still solid strip of gray dermis ripped like wet paper under their palm. More mucus oozed from under the torn edge and equally gray flesh was faintly distinguishable below.
Ane carefully prodded at the strip of skin. They thought it was their original skin. Or at least the bleached gray version of it. But it now felt more like the gelatinous film of mold formed on the surface of a forgotten bowl of soup than solid dermal tissue.
A piece easily came off between their fingers. The strip seemed to keep deteriorating in their hand. After a minute it was indistinguishable from the slime coating everything.
The separated skin on their thigh was doing the same. Only a thicker layer of mucus marked where it was bunched.
The unsettling shifting had slowly died down until Ane could no longer feel anything moving inside. Their body felt comfortable again, their proprioception no longer disoriented.
Ane rolled onto their side and spit out a mouthful of sludge. They had not even noticed the goo accumulating. White chunks lay in the viscous mass.
Ane pulled out a molar and numbly studied it. Running a tongue across their teeth found many sharp points.
It felt like every tooth was an incisor. But the top and bottom still fit together perfectly. The few snaggleteeth Ane had never paid to fix were gone. They were most likely spit onto the stone.
Ane began scraping the slime off. It was at least an inch thick. More in certain places.
They scraped away the sludge over their groin only to find it more mucus than flesh. What they thought was their genitalia came away to reveal something familiar. But not from their own body.
Ane leaned forwards to get a clearer view. They were able to bend more easily than they ever could before.
Their chin ended up nearly touching the new slit spanning where their testicles had been. There was no hint of the strain such a contorted position should have brought.
The light was poor. Ane could make out the shape of labia majora nearly obscuring the dark minora peeking from between.
They bent back and crawled over to the patch of daylight on the cave floor. The small spot of brightness had drifted with the sun. Soon it would reach the wall and begin the journey to night.
Ane positioned themselves so the light fell on their lower stomach and upper thighs. They scraped away the slime invading their eyes.
A tangle of light blue strands was visible in the resulting globual. Passing their hand over their scalp brought away both mucus and most of their hair.
A few more passes confirmed Ane was completely bald. That was somehow the most distressing discovery.
They took pride in their hair. Grooming it was logistically difficult with their career and lifestyle. But doing so made them feel presentable and in control despite that.
Ane resolved to find a quality wig. That was if they were not too busy eating villagers or doing chores for their dark master.
They laughed at the bleak humor of the thought. The sound was higher and clearer in their own ears than they remembered.
Ane returned to inspecting the now illuminated space between their legs. The outer labia was soft to the touch.
They had felt the same thing on many women. But they never felt the other half of the contact.
Parting the labia majora revealed the much darker folds inside. The labia minora were charcoal gray verging on black. But the shape was as similar to those Ane had interacted with before as each of those partners had been to each other.
Ane could make out the clitoris under its hood. They watched the opening below clench and relax as they flexed. The muscles felt so natural they had not thought about them until now.
Ane had never felt uncomfortable with their sex or the correlating anatomy. If they had they would have talked with a priest about it.
Those who experienced dissonance between their body and mental image could have that image changed by a priest to match their form. If they also felt uncomfortable with the social role their sex placed them in, they could instead pursue the longer process of having their sex changed.
Ane knew a few people in their village who left puberty with a different sex than they started with. Habe’s followers ensured such an option was available across the Church’s domain. The same was true for birth control charms, fertility healing and eradication of sexual diseases.
They suspected having an organ replaced by another should have felt alien and wrong. But they could not find any instinctual distress or dissonance.
Ane tried thinking about their previous anatomy. How it had felt. The places sensation had been or had not. What it was like to have it touched. To use it or have it used by another.
It felt strange. Almost hard to imagine or relate to. As if having balls where their labia was and a penis affixed above was the alien experience.
Ane shivered at the realization. Something had been changed inside their mind. It was something any priest of Habe could change in an alma upon request. But it was still an effect on their feelings and desires.
They uncurled to tentatively poke at their chest. Ane half expected soft tissue to have built up on their pectorals. But their chest was flatter than before.
Clearing more slime exposed bear skin. They realized their nipples were gone.
Ane started removing all the clinging sludge in earnest. It seemed to have begun drying and came off like an unpleasant second skin.
The mound of ooze left on the rock looked revolting. But they were left as clean as could be expected.
They stood shakily and put a few steps between themselves and the crud. It had no detectable smell. That or Ane was too acclimatized to smell it.
They felt strangely light. Almost nimble. Moving across the uneven stone required some care and attention before. Now it was reflexive to twist and bend every step into the needed footing.
Ane wished they had a mirror. It was apparent their build had changed. But also hard to judge how much.
Their entire frame was definitely slighter. That brought their already lanky build for an alma to something obviously non-alma. As if the tail had not been sufficient.
They thought their hips were wider and knew their shoulders and rib cage had narrowed. Walking in the longest flattest circle the cave allowed for revealed a slight sway to their stride. But it was nothing as pronounced as many alma women Ane had known.
The light from above was shifting towards a golden red. Ane assumed the sun would set fully in the next few hours.
The last few hours had completely destroyed their life in a way Ane was trying not to dwell on. But the situation was ultimately the same. Unless they could crawl on ceilings now.
There was no way out. No food. Not even water. If nothing changed, they would die in a matter of days.
They did not feel hungry yet. Or thirsty. Which was odd if Ane thought about it.
It had been early afternoon when they lost consciousness. That would have been hours ago. And that was assuming it was the same day. There was no way to know how long they were unconscious without knowing why they passed out in the first place.
All they felt was a slight need to use a bathroom they certainly did not have. They were not looking forward to picking a spot for that.
Ane frowned. Something they had noticed when inspecting their nethers returned to their thoughts.
They could clearly feel the muscular channel opening at the base of their vulva. But they just as clearly could no longer feel the ring of muscle in the space behind it.
Ane brought a hand between their legs. They pushed aside the caution and felt out their new anatomy.
It was immediately obvious the area was sensitive. But not much more than running a finger around the inside of their mouth.
Ane supposed that made sense. They were not aroused. It was just another place with soft tissue and a larger perceived presence in their mind than the true size would suggest.
They were not sure how that would change if they became aroused. They did not even know with certainty they still could. That was a later concern.
Ane found the opening that led inside. A fingertip carefully slid in. There was no discomfort. Either the residual mucus eased the act or their resting state was slicker than the alma women they had lain with.
They pulled out and moved back further. The skin was unbroken as far as they could reach. Checking from behind confirmed the continuous skin from their tail to vagina. They had no anus.
Ane was not sure what to make of that. Did they not shit? Or were they like a chicken, everything going through one hole? They really hoped it was the first.
The pressure in their lower abdomen was not exactly right. It felt similar to the need to defecate. But it was less like that feeling the more it intensified.
Did they need to piss? They had not specifically noticed a urethra. But that would have been much easier to miss. It did not really feel like the need to urinate either.
It was a need to move something within. A desire to push something out. They could almost make out the shape inside. Something at their center that had to be forced down. Had to come out.
They were increasingly aware of the folds between their legs. A tingling warmth caused them to press their thighs together. As if sensation was returning to a limb that had fallen asleep. Except the heat was going from full sensation to something beyond it.
The feeling of slick wetness became obvious between their thighs. Ane was intensely aware of their clitoris. Their inner labia. And of the twitching channel leading to their core.
Ane clambered down to the lowest point in the cave. They tried to ignore the profound absence of anything for their inner walls to clench around. The impulse to move muscles inside and force the object down. To spread themselves open from within and be filled.
They squatted over the loose stones collected where the floor slanted under the rock face forming the cave wall. Their opening twitched and relaxed in rhythmic intervals.
Ane could not hold back any longer. They followed their instincts and pushed. A ripple of pleasure pulsed down to their opening.
The pulse moved over the obstruction and forced it into their channel. The emptiness was filled.
Ane was surprised a moment later by a second stronger pulse that traveled down unprompted. The point it passed over the foreign mass was exquisite.
The closest thing Ane could liken the feeling to was the pulses that traveled up their penis and carried their seed during ejaculation. Except the scale was far greater.
Each pulse traveled from deep within to their opening. And it passed down their entire channel on the way. The spike of pressure and wonderful fullness around the obstruction was like a piece of an orgasm each time.
The pulses continued. With each Ane let out a small whimper. It was soon forced down to their opening.
The last pulse came with a greater intensity that could not be mistaken for any of its predecessors. The object crowned. Ane cried out as they were spread open.
The orgasm as the mass left them was as intense as anything Ane experienced as an alma. The clink of something hard hitting the rocky ground was ignored.
Ane shuddered as the afterglow faded. Their mind was cleared completely. The worries were not forgotten. But they did not matter currently.
The bliss gradually passed enough for them to look down and inspect the glistening orb on the ground below. Droplets of their fluids pattered on the obsidian shell, joining the wetness already darkening the stones.
They could still feel it. The need to push was gone. But it was now obvious that the place inside where the ovoid came from was still as full as before.
They pressed down again. Soon two orbs lay below them. Then three, then four. Between the persistent and undiminished climaxes, an idea came to their mind. It felt like a very good idea.