The World Wants Your Oyster – 6 [❤️❤️]

You thumb your crossbow nervously, wishing once again you brought your bident with you to this strange realm. You are Ron the centaur, having just return from Nancy’s Tavern. Not really for you.

You are a quadruped with no sea legs.

You didn’t need to wear your glasses there either, but Pearl recommended you keep them on until you were a distance from the portal. Aside from the airsickness, Nancy’s Tavern was pretty neat. Lots of different people, plenty of opportunities the boss would appreciate.

Very…rough. You noticed a lot of stares on you, which is understandable. Centaurs never leave the mainland. But mainly on your crossbow. A few guys were ‘mirin, and you ended up raving about how the model GX-8 arbalest has a quicker reload enchantment and stronger arms, but the CBG-Delta was lighter and more accurate.

Shade mocked you relentlessly for sperging out.

After that, you found a solid deal for decade-old rum. You loaded up on them and now you’re making the first trip back to the Prillia portal. Once again, you marvel at the smooth road. Normally, you’d get gravel or loose asphalt stuck in the frog of your hooves, but the roads in Haven are pristine. You don’t doubt bipeds could walk the entire road barefoot.

The strangest thing crosses your path. A black sphere smaller than a fist floats in front of you. You stop and shiver. Somehow, you know something is watching you from it. You trot around it, keeping your eyes on it when someone runs into you.

“Hey, watch it!”

You know that voice! She’s on the ground rubbing her head in a set of clothes you’ve never seen her wear before. Quickslip the goblin was a reliable merc in Hacksonville. And maybe more people who came with you had stopped wearing glasses, but you’d have recognized her if she was with you. Last you heard, she’d found a great job. How’d did she get here?

“Quickslip?”

“It’s Cockslut now.” She looks at you in confusion. Recognition lights up her features. “Heeey…Rob?”

“Ron.” You were her lookout for several B&E’s. Knowing her, maybe it was best she wasn't too familiar with you. She looks a lot mellower now. “Why’d you change your name?”

“Something that had to happen.” Cockslut shrugs. “Didja see some sort of black orb flying around?”

You point at the ball is it hovers over three locals having an arm wrestle on a café table. They’re grunting and sweating a lot, so they must be really invested. All of a sudden, two people sneak around them and jump at the orb.

THUNK.

The orb flew out of the way just in time. They slam into each other midair and slam onto the table, interrupting the arm wrestle. The players start yelling at the pair, but they’re unresponsive. They stare upwards at the escaping ball.

“Crap.” Cockslut mutters.

“What even is that?” The orb does a loop-de-loop and flies higher into the sky.

“Some new gadget my bosses are working on. It’s supposed to be easy to make and use…”She frowns. “But someone hijacked it!”

“Do you need it intact?” You ask as you load a crossbow bolt.

“What?” She sees your weapon and grins. “Nah, take it out.”

You take aim…and shoot. Your arrow flies true, hitting the ball dead on. It falls to the ground and breaks into pieces. Cockslut winces and sighs. The smaller pieces are dissipating into shadow, yet the larger parts are still solid. The two from earlier pick up the pieces and Cockslut thanks you.

She walks with you a while, licking her lips every now and then as her eyes trail to your undercarriage. You talk about the recent changes in Hacksonville and the gangs that operate within. Cockslut blanks out on a lot of stuff that she should know, though it’s understandable given the whirlwind of events in the past few weeks.

When you told her about your recent visit to Nancy’s Tavern, she got excited and asked even more questions. Apparently, she’s not allowed to go there yet.

“It sucks!” Cockslut snarls. “The boss wants us to be ready before we go out on our own, but I already know everything there is to know about living on Avalon!”

You mull over your words. You’d heard from Shade about the nature of Haven. It didn’t make sense to you. If there were demons here, wouldn’t all the mortals all be dead? Wouldn’t they rip the souls out of your bodies and subject them to awful torture?

Before you could form a question, the palace floating in the middle of the realm rolls out a crystal staircase that slowly coils down to the ground, not far away from where you stand. Thousands of heads turn to watch a woman and her dog come down the stairs. As she gets closer, you can’t help but feel that this is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Glossy black hair running down her back frames piercing green eyes, a regal nose, and a mirthful smile. Her hourglass body moves with graceful confidence that stirs something in you.

Her sundress billows behind her as she takes the last step down, her dog a bit slow to follow on its leash. She notices you and her smile grows large enough to blind you…or swallow you whole.

“Cockslut, it’s nice to see you. Who is this fine stallion?~”

“Lord Quinn.” Cockslut stands in between you two and bows. “This is Ron, a visitor from Prillia.”

“I did notice the glasses…” Quinn hums in a way that stirs that something deep inside you. “I’ve met few centaurs before. Fewer still that can carry so much alcohol! Are you planning on sharing, big guy?”

A part of you wants to accept. How much harm could be done from sharing just one bottle with the woman? Until your mind catches up to a word Cockslut mentioned. ‘Lord’. Was she a demon? Well, her palace was floating in the middle of it all with several statues of her in different poses. In hindsight, it’s sort of obvious if you ignore her appearance.

Such a thing was hard to ignore.

“Sorry, Lord Quinn. I need to get the shipment home.” You shrink away in fear for what the demon might do.

“That’s okay, Ron.” She giggles and pats Cockslut on the head as she passes you. The goblin leans into the headpat. “I wish you a successful—Unlucky!”

The dog stops loudly licking between its legs.

“Come on, Unlucky. You need a walk and some fresh air.” She waves to you two and goes on her way.

She continues down the path, stopping to talk with everybody. Some she would talk to at length, and others she let play with her dog. You turned around to keep going, Cockslut still transfixed on Quinn and her dog.

“Lucky bitch.” Cockslut grumbles.

“Is she a demon?”

“Wha—Unlucky? No.” She snorts. “Clearly.”

“I mean Quinn.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally. Well, maybe not totally by typical…” Cockslut groans and rubs her forehead. “It’s complicated. Lord Quinn has a demonic body but not what we’d consider a demonic mindset. She’s kinda all over the place, but she protects her own and tries not to make trouble. She’s a good boss.”

At the end of the day, that’s all anyone can ask for. You’ll stay wary. You can’t help but feel someone’s pulling the wool over your eyes on something. You watch Quinn walk away in her fluttering sundress as her dog struggles to keep up with her.

You are Pearl. And you’ve been losing your mind.

When they offered to take the spell off you, you thought it would be a minor thing. You couldn’t have been more wrong. Especially here.

In Hacksonville, it would have been easier to ignore your…impulses. But Haven was a place that revolved around the very thing you were spelled against. It was bad enough that you wanted to hug Sym and rub yourself against her. But a few minutes afterwards, you walked onto the street and saw a man rutting a succubus over a table. Later, a minotauress winked at you as she milked herself from an open window behind the bakery. The opera had people sucking and squeezing at a girly guy’s genitals so he could hit the high notes.

Even going to Nancy’s Tavern proved to be too much. The portal was right beneath a bar with scantily dressed men and women. Just walking the streets, there was an equint woman wearing only a sign advertising the place you guys just left. She was splattered in a white fluid.

When you came back to Haven, Ron went on ahead with the 50(!) proof alcohol you guys bought. You stopped on a bench after you watched a pink harpy take two other harpies into her wings and kissed them deeply. On the mouth. Worse, when you turned a corner you recognized one of the people that came with you…indulging with three men in alley.

Sym was rubbing your back as you held a napkin up to your bleeding nose. The way her hand sent fires blazing under your skin…you don’t know why you’re reacting like this. Maybe you’re allergic to women?

“You okay, Pearl?” Your head gets woozy. She cares so much about you…

“She looks like she’s not used to an unfiltered world.” Someone guffaws behind you.

Humans are rare outside of Prillia and its colonies, but not so much they are absent on Nancy’s Tavern. The rings on his fingers and in his ears plus the headband mark him as one such human pirate. Clinging at his side is a skimpily dressed, dark-haired elf girl with thick eyeliner, fishnets that go from her thick boots up her midsection to disappear underneath her short-cropped shirt. Her crotch is fully visible, the torn fishnet revealing her special place in its entirety. Her horns and dark sclera make what she is obvious. She stares at you listlessly as she sucks on a lollipop.

Another spurt of blood bursts from your nose.

“Pearl!” Sym cries. “I knew that spell bullcrap was…well, bullcrap!”

“Chill out, Prillian.” The pirate says. “The poor girl is just seeing Haven without anything censored. I thought it was going to be dangerous when I was first sent here, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

Sym points at you and glares at him. The pirate shrugs and sits down on the bench next to you. The elf—no, the demon sits on his lap, her slitted eyes focused intently on you.

“Out of curiosity, how many people do you see sitting on this bench?”

“Three. Pearl, you, and the elf sitting next to you.” Sym squints and taps her glasses. “How much are these hiding from me?”

“Nothing important.”

Sym turns to you for your answer.

“Well…there are three people on the bench. It doesn’t change much.” You answer with a blush.

“I’m curious how much you can see.” The demon smirks and slides next to you.

She pulls out the long lollipop out of her mouth and slides it next to her open thigh. You watch, enraptured, as the purple lollipop slides closer and closer to her sex, until the candy is gliding across her lower lips.

“What am I doing right now?”

“You’re twirling a lollipop between your legs?” Sym looks at you for confirmation and you wave your hand in a ‘kinda’ motion.

The succubus smirks and slips the candy inside her, biting her lip and she pushes and twirls it around. You can’t stop watching as she caresses her folds, her breath hitching with every shift of the lollipop. She looks at you and suppresses a moan, setting your own crotch on fire.

“Okay, you made it disappear. How?” Sym obliviously asks.

“Those glasses are really something.” The pirate comments. “Ash’s tricks aren’t magic.”

Sym seems frustrated. There’s also a hubbub towards the Haven’s center, but you’re so enthralled looking at Ash pleasure herself that you don’t notice. The succubus is staring at you as she plays with herself.

“Wait a second. You thought you were in danger when you first came in?”

“Yeah.” The pirate leans back. “Festa is the lead shaman. There are rumors that she’s peeved off one of the Pirate Lords. A few of us thought we were being sent in as sacrificial lambs, but it turns out this place is pretty great! Back home I had to pay for whores!”

“Horses are free here?” Sym cocks her head.

Ash pauses for a moment, but keeps going, basking in your slack-jawed expression. Sym glances at you as the pirate chuckles. You’re almost catatonic, but she’s used to it.

“What’d Festa do?” You manage to mumble out.

“No clue.” The pirate shrugs. “She clearly isn’t aware. She has caused lots of people to die in the name of ‘efficiency’ and she’s never gotten punished for it. Maybe someone close to one of the bigwigs died, and Festa's finally getting her due.”

Sym and the pirate talk some more about the situation in Nancy’s Tavern, and Ash slowly gets closer and closer to you, changing poses every few minutes as your attention wavers. Despite yourself, your hand sliding from the bench to your thigh, then closer inwards. Ash’s back is arched upwards and her crotch is inches from your face, when she stops and rolls to her feet.

“Lord Quinn!” She bows to the beautiful, red-skinned woman in a sundress.

The pirate stumbles to his feet and almost bows, then almost salutes, then settles for standing awkwardly with a tent in his pants. Sym looks between her, the pirate, and the succubus uneasily. And you?

You’re lightheaded from the third violent nosebleed. You’ve vaguely aware of a person wearing very little crouched next to her. But your vision is sorta fuzzy around the edges. You teeter in place and the red woman looks at you with worry in her green eyes. The pirate backs away quickly and Sym opens her mouth to say something, but the woman just puts her hand on your head.

You feel better. Just like that. You wipe your nose and the congealed blood crumbles away as if it was never there. The red woman–Quinn—smiles at you as Sym gapes.

“There we go. That’s some high blood pressure.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Holy magic…” Sym whispers in awe.

You can see her more clearly. She had to bend down to meet your eyes, and you’ve got a clear line of sight down her cleavage. You feel the blush coming back in full force and try to avert your eyes, but her presence causes your vision to gravitate on her. You focus on her face.

It’s perfect.

Plump lips, flawless skin, straight nose, and a pair of green eyes that twinkle with joy. Oh, and two pairs of thick black horns. You blink and the blood drains from your face. Lord Quinn, the succubus called her. A high-ranking demon that could destroy you if she felt like it. She stands up straight and taps her lip.

“Wow, you are pent up. Have you gotten laid yet?”

Her casual attitude is a bit surprising. Especially considering that most of the people on the street are looking at her. And what does she mean by ‘laid’? She notices your confused expression and continues.

“Y’know? Canoodling? Doing the do? Sideways hokey-pokey? Boink? Shag? Tapping it? Jumping their bones? Getting lucky?”

The person at her side reacts at the last one. It’s a naked woman—man? Your mind does somersaults as you notice she has both sets of equipment. She pulls at her leash and wiggles her butt in your face. Like Ash did, actually.

But Ash did it to tease you. This…woman waves her rear in your direction with the desperation of a dog in heat. Her loose womanhood’s juices trickle down the dangling meat stick, which only causes her to whine more.

“Unlucky, no!” Quinn tugs at the leash. “Sorry about her, I’m trying to get her rehabilitated.”

“She’s very pretty.” Sym says. Both you and the pirate swivel to stare at her. “What breed is she?”

Sym is seeing her as a dog. Those glasses must be working overtime.  Before you can stop her, your friend reaches over and starts petting the woman. Unlucky is loving the attention. She sloppily kisses Sym all over her face, who laughs as she’s covered in slobber. You frown and almost get between them before Unlucky starts humping her with the disgusting thing between her legs, but the leash pulls her back again.

“She’s a futanari.” Quinn sends a look to Unlucky that causes her to tremble in joy, fluids squirting from her genitals. The lust demon looks at the glasses on Sym’s face and continues. “…She was also a criminal.”

You and the pirate shiver. You’ve been wondering why Unlucky made you uncomfortable, aside from the massive penis. She has no horns. She’s a human. What did she do to deserve this?

“You turn your criminals into dogs?” Sym is taken aback.

“Into bitches, yeah.” Quinn nods. “Though I kinda went a bit hard on Unlucky. Forgot how fragile mortals can be. It’s going to be tricky to turn her back…but I’ll figure it out if we get another law-breaker. Or major debtor.”

You swallow nervously. The pirate is rummaging around his pockets and picks out two red tokens. Debt markers. His face pales. He excuses himself and rushes off, either to warn his friends or alleviate his debt quickly. To be fair, the gangs of Hacksonville have some pretty gnarly punishments for those who step out of line. But seeing a person reduced to a mess like that…you shudder. Ash watches the pirate run with a bemused expression, pulling the lollipop out of her vagina and popping it back into her mouth.

“It was nice meeting you. And seeing you again, Ash. Give Nectar my love, I’m off to get Unlucky fixed.” Quinn

“Right, so she can’t have puppies.” Sym nods as if it was the simplest thing.

Quinn snorted and grinned. You get the sense that’s the last thing she wants. You’re watching her leave when the succubus gets real close to you and slips a piece of paper in your hand. She winks and walks in the opposite direction, pausing only to turn around and give you a half-lidded smirk.

“What’d she give you?” Does she sound a bit angry?

You unfold the paper. It’s written in flowing cursive. ‘You’re a-dwarf-able. I can stop you from feeling so pent up. Cum over~’ There’s an address and some sort of geometric sigil. Sym is leaning over your shoulder and frowning.

“You should visit her.” She puffs her cheeks.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“If you’re going to get better, you should do it.” Sym crosses her arms and sighs. “Something about that girl rubs me the wrong way, that’s all.”

You know how she feels. Ash has been rubbing herself the wrong way all over you.