The sun had barely set when Zara's caravan wagons rolled to a halt just outside the village palisade. She had dismissed her guards to camp in the field—"They've seen enough for one day"—and walked back alone, silks swaying, a small leather satchel slung over her shoulder. The pouch clinked softly—enchanted toys, oils, and something heavier that sounded suspiciously like restraints.
Shabi waited on the longhouse veranda, still naked, cock at half-mast but twitching at the sight of her. His harem flanked him: Mila and Rena kneeling on either side, breasts bare and leaking; Kira sitting cross-legged at his feet, tail swishing; Lira standing gracefully behind; Elara perched on his shoulder, vibrator on low, making her wings stutter every few seconds.
Zara stopped at the bottom step, eyes raking over the group.
"You kept your promise," she said, voice rich with amusement. "The table still smells of milk and seed. I had to leave my favorite silk behind—it was… unsalvageable."
Shabi grinned. "We aim to please. Come up. Dinner's ready. And after… we'll see about that personal order."
Zara ascended slowly, hips rolling, and took the seat she'd occupied during negotiations. This time, no paperwork—just a low wooden table laden with roasted vegetables, fresh bread, honeyed fruit, and pitchers of cool water. The harem served her first—Mila leaning over to pour, tits dangling and dripping milk into Zara's cup by "accident."
Zara lifted the cup, tasted, and hummed approval. "Sweet. Very sweet."
Dinner passed in teasing conversation—trade routes, distant kingdoms, rumors of other "cursed" villages. Zara's eyes kept flicking to Shabi's cock, then to each woman in turn.
When the plates were cleared, she reached into her satchel and pulled out a small, polished obsidian egg—smooth, thumb-sized, with a faint purple glow at its core.
"Enchanted," she explained. "Remote vibration. Intensity scales with the user's arousal. Perfect for… meetings."
She tossed it lightly to Shabi.
He caught it one-handed. "And who gets the honor tonight?"
Zara's gaze settled on Lira—the elegant elf still standing behind him.
"The poised one," Zara said. "Let's see how long she can pretend composure while we talk business."
Lira stepped forward without hesitation, robe slipping off her shoulders to pool at her feet. Naked, pale skin glowing in the lantern light, pussy already glistening.
Shabi knelt in front of her, parted her thighs gently, and pressed the obsidian egg to her entrance.
Schlick.
It slid inside smoothly—Lira's breath hitching, walls fluttering around the intrusion. The purple glow pulsed once, low and teasing.
Zara leaned back, crossing her legs. "Now… let's discuss next month's order. Double the silk. Triple the spices. And one barrel of fresh cow milk—harvested personally."
Shabi sat beside her, one hand resting casually on Lira's hip as the elf lowered herself to straddle his lap—facing Zara, back to Shabi, cock nestled against her ass but not inside yet.
He whispered in her ear. "Stay still, princess. Don't cum until I say."
Then he activated the toy—low setting.
Lira stiffened, a soft gasp escaping. The egg hummed inside her, gentle pulses making her inner walls clench rhythmically.
Zara smiled. "You were saying… about the milk harvest?"
Shabi's free hand slid around Lira's waist, fingers finding her clit—circling slowly while the vibrator buzzed.
Lira's voice came out shaky but controlled. "We… can provide… a barrel… weekly… ah—"
Shabi turned the intensity up one notch.
Lira's thighs trembled, pussy dripping onto his cock below her. Milk from Mila and Rena—sitting close—dripped onto the table in sympathy, the scent filling the air.
Zara leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Weekly is good. But I want… demonstrations. Like today. Perhaps I bring a few trusted clients next time. Let them watch."
Shabi's fingers sped up on Lira's clit. The elf bit her lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood, hips rocking in tiny, helpless circles.
"Clients can watch," Shabi said casually. "But they don't touch. These holes are mine."
Zara laughed. "Fair. Though I might… sample the merchandise myself."
She reached across the table, dipped two fingers into a puddle of milk, and brought them to Lira's lips.
"Suck."
Lira obeyed—tongue swirling, eyes fluttering as the vibrator jumped to medium intensity. Her pussy clenched visibly, slick running down Shabi's shaft.
Shabi stood suddenly—lifting Lira with him, cock sliding along her slit but not entering yet. He carried her to the veranda railing, turned her to face the night, bent her over the wooden balustrade.
The village below—lanterns flickering, women still gathered, watching.
Zara followed, standing beside them.
"Now ruin her," Zara ordered softly. "Make her scream so the whole valley knows who owns her."
Shabi didn't need telling twice.
He thrust in—deep, hard, bottoming out in one stroke.
Lira cried out—loud, raw, echoing across the fields.
Schlick-slap-schlick-slap.
He fucked her relentlessly—hands gripping her hips, cock pistoning, the obsidian egg still vibrating inside her, buzzing against his shaft through her thin walls.
Lira's moans turned to desperate wails. "Shabi—master—too much—gonna cum—gonna scream—!"
"Do it," he growled. "Scream for the village. Scream for the queen watching."
He cranked the vibrator to max.
Lira shattered.
Her pussy clamped like a vice—squirting in violent arcs over the railing, down into the square below. Milk from nearby cowkins sprayed in sympathy. Lira screamed his name—long, broken, echoing.
"SHABI—!"
Shabi slammed deep one last time and came—flooding her, cum overflowing, dripping down her thighs to join the mess on the veranda floor.
Lira collapsed forward, trembling, held up only by the railing and Shabi's grip.
Zara stepped close, scooped a mix of cum and slick from Lira's dripping cunt, tasted it, and smiled.
"I'll take three barrels next month," she said softly. "And I'm staying the night."
Shabi pulled out slowly, cum bubbling from Lira's gaping pussy.
"Guest bed's big enough," he said. "But you'll have to share."
Zara's eyes gleamed. "I insist."