"Well? How much?"
 
I shot the speaker a black look as my tail lashed back and forth in irritation. The man had strutted into the Second Circle at the head of a little pack of sad, sweaty accomplices, and had spent the last ten minutes strutting arrogantly back and forth, peering into the small, velvet-lined alcoves where the men and women plying their trade waited and making disapproving tutting noises.
 
"Well, that would depend on what you want." I replied, smoothing out my dress and doing my best not to sneer at him. Judging by their ostentatious clothes, the men were probably minor nobility. Safe in the knowledge that the real work of running the city was being taken care of by their own superiors, they usually grew fat and arrogant, throwing their political weight around and watching the masses scurry to obey their every whim.
 
"I would have thought that would be obvious." He said. He was taller and older than his compatriots, with a body that suggested at least a token attempt at staying in shape. "My cousins and I will be purchasing your...services." He pronounced the word like it was something distasteful. "We expect our needs to be fully catered for, in whichever way we so desire."
 
I made an irritated little noise in the back of my throat and began counting his options off on my fingers. "I start at eight gold for an hour. Anal is a gold extra, kissing is a silver. You want anything fancier - toys, bondage, that sort of thing - go talk to Trik'il, by the bar." I flicked a thumb at the wiry Kobold, who was putting a set of leather wrist-straps and some heavy chains away in a cupboard. "He'll rent you what you need. But I don't do gags, and before you ask, no, I don't offer group discount."
 
Which was a lie - I don't mind entertaining groups, and if I can fleece three or four people out of their money in the same time as I'd normally do one, I'm usually quite happy to knock a gold or two off per head. And I normally expect to be argued down from eight, but looking at the posse of smug, flabby men in front of me, I decided I was going to get my money's worth out of them. Kristoff and I had spent the past few weeks picking through the forests and foothills surrounding the old Elven city of Swyndell, sometimes hired for a particular job and sometimes working off our own initiative, and had made quite a bit of money for ourselves. We worked well together - Kristoff was the better fighter and had already established a number of contacts that could feed us jobs, while I could handle locks and traps better than him, and supplemented our earnings at the Second Circle. Also - and believe me, if you're thinking about going into adventuring with someone, this is the most important thing - we got on, and I felt I could trust him.
 
I'd been uncertain about going back to the Circle at first. After the illicit thrill of prostituting myself for the first time had worn off, I'd felt guilty, nervous - like I'd broken some unwritten rule and was waiting to be punished for it. But as the days went on, my thoughts continued to wander back to the rush of power I had felt dangling the promise of *** over Kristoff's head, then squeezing him for as much money as I could. My mind had been made up when, wandering Swyndell's maze-like streets and lost in thought, I found my feet had carried me unconsciously to the Second Circle's doors. Now, normally I'm not one for signs and omens - I like to think that fate ultimately rests in our own hands - but this one seemed too obvious to ignore.
 
So, like I said, things had been going pretty well for the two of us. Sadly, adventuring isn't exactly known for being a stable, long-term career; there's a reason why most people do it for a few years, then settle down and use the money to learn a trade. We were jumped by a group of bandits, far too many to fight, and had to buy them off to stop them killing us. Fortunately they weren't the sort to take slaves - or maybe they just didn't have a place to hold us, I don't know - but they stripped us of our money and let us limp back to town. They would have taken our weapons and armour as well, but I persuaded them to let us keep those. Yes, 'persuaded'. That means exactly what you think it means.
 
Kristoff had vanished off to meet his contacts in the hopes of finding some other adventurers interested in helping us track them down, and after taking a day to recover, I had made my way to the Second Circle to start recouping our losses. Which is why I found myself sitting, teeth gritted, as a group of men old enough to be my father counted out how much it was going to cost them to gang-**** me for an hour.
 
One of the ones at the back, a weak, pasty man who reminded me of an oversized baby, piped up.
 
"But that's -"
 
"Yup." I cut in before he could continue. "There's five of you, so that comes to forty-seven gold and a silver, plus extra if you want to rummage through Trik'il's box of tricks." 
 
I paused for a moment, staring coolly at the man who had spoken to me first.
 
"But because I'm in a generous mood, I'll knock the extra silver off."
 
"Maisy down at the docks only charges three per person!" Baby-face cried. He wrung his fat hands anxiously, not even trying to hide the way he was staring at my *******.
 
"Yea," I snapped back. "And I bet her services come with all the free genital warts you can carry."
 
A few of the other girls had stopped to watch the confrontation, and they giggled at that. Not that the older man seemed particularly amused. Like I said, he struck me as the sort of person who was used to getting what he wanted. Being told 'no' - and offering a price he wasn't willing to pay was as good as that - obviously didn't sit well with him. Despite my growing discomfort, I felt a vicious little thrill at that. For all his money, his privilege, his arrogant swagger and presumptions, I still had power over him.
 
Now, maybe the guy had a bit of magic to him. Maybe he was just good at reading other people. Hell, maybe he was just an asshole - Gods know the world's full of them. One way or the other, it was like he knew what I was thinking, and didn't like it one bit.
 
"That price is absurd. I don't care if you're the only half-fiend in the city. You'll take thirty and you'll like it."
 
He reached out and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me towards the stairs. I snarled and grabbed for my dagger, but the heavy clunk-clack of a crossbow being drawn back caused everyone to pause. Several of the other workers had pulled out their own clubs and knives, but it was Trik'il who everyone was staring at. The old Kobold had grabbed the barman's crossbow out from under the table and was aiming it at the man's head.
 
"Trik'il thinks-yes you should be leaving, now." He said, in the rapid jabber of Kobolds everywhere. "Assault-harming workers strictly forbidden. Trik'il knows of you, Jacoby, and wonders how Guard-captain thinks when he hears his half-brother tries to force himself on women?"
 
I pulled my arm free of Jacoby's grip and spat at his back as the Kobold herded the little band of men out. When he returned, the Kobold dropped a drink in front of me. "This one, on house." He said, nodding and turning back to his other jobs. 
 
I supped quietly for a while. A few men came in - and one woman, even - and shot hopeful glances in my direction, but were quickly pulled into other booths. The incident hadn't particularly upset me, but it was an unpleasant reminder that for the moment, I wasn't here because I wanted to be, because I wanted to scratch an itch and get paid for it - it was because Kristoff and I needed the money. Uncomfortable memories of the broken, worn-out street-prostitutes from my home village flickered through my mind. I told myself then - as I still do now, sometimes - that while we both sell ***, I don't sell dignity at the same time. It might not seem like much of a difference, but it means the world.
 
Footsteps pulled me out of my musings. Looking up, I saw Bryndila - a tall, powerfully built Orc woman - standing in front of another Kobold and a huge Dragonborn. The Kobold was a funny looking chap, bare-chested, his tawny scales painted with swirling blue designs, but it was the Dragonborn that my eyes kept wandering to. He stood head and shoulders above Bryndila, who isn't short to begin with, and was probably about twice as broad as I was at the shoulder. Aside from that, I couldn't see much - just a squat, reptilian head looming out of a set of featureless robes, and deep, red eyes staring laconically at me. 
 
Now, Bryndila's never liked me. For me, prostitution's a hobby. It sounds weird to say that, but it is - it's an enjoyable pastime that brings in some supplemental income. But for Bryndila, she started out on the streets, homeless and penniless. She'd clawed her way out of the gutters and pimp-gangs and into the more respectable avenues like the Second Circle through sheer, bloody determination, and resented the fact that I could swan in and out of the business whenever I decided I needed some money or a quick ****. I gave the two men a coy smile, shifting my posture to show off a bit more leg, and turned to the Orc.
 
"Help, you, Bryn?" I said, my voice all sweetness and light.
 
"Got these two at the door. The big one's looking for service." She jerked a thumb at the Dragonborn. "You ain't had much custom all day, so I thought I'd point him in your direction."
 
She laughed hoarsely and slipped away. Now, I'd barely had any interactions with Dragonborn before. They're rare in this part of the world. Not as rare as Tielfings are, but still - uncommon enough that I'd never really spoken to one, let alone had *** with one. Bryn wasn't malicious enough to put me in any real danger, but if she had brought the guy to me specifically, I knew there would be a catch. Still, I needed the money, and I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't curious about what was lurking under his robes.
 
"Well then, gentlemen." I smiled and turned in my seat so they could get a better look at me, pushing my chest out a little for emphasis. "What can I do for you today?"
 
Surprisingly, it was the Kobold who spoke. "Yes-yes! I, Krissilik, slayer of the albino lindworrn, savior of the Greenmedow farmstead, most-great hero of heroes - " he paused, and knowing what I know about Krissilik now, it was for dramatic effect, before continuing  " - have brought much-honored clan-kin Maundra Fireye to this most-fine establishment in the search for pay-love and coin-pleasure!"
 
I fought to stifle a giggle. A lot of Kobolds are like that. They only live for about thirty years, so they talk fast, live fast, blowing their achievements out of all proportion and wallowing in every scrap of glory they can grab onto in their short time. Gods help you if you don't take them at least partly seriously, though - having such short lifespans, and a history of being preyed upon by everything bigger than them in their native lands, a lot of them aren't frightened by death in the slightest. Anyone who's seen a pack of Kobold berserkers hurling themselves into combat, taking off knees left and right regardless of personal danger, will attest to how dangerous they are when they get pissed off.
 
Hiding my amusement behind a coy smile, I unwound myself from the seat. Moundra remained silent, simply watching me as Krissilik spoke. Only, he wasn't eying me up in the way I'd have expected a potential customer to. It felt more like I was being studied, or evaluated, more like a desirable object that than an attractive person. I don't usually mind being ogled - the plunging cleavage and long slits up the legs of my dress practically demanded it - but I felt myself shiver under his gaze. There was something genuinely reptilian about it, in a way that you don't get from Kobolds.
 
"Do you speak, Maundra?" I asked.
 
"Yes." The Dragonborn rumbled. His voice was low and heavy, like rocks grinding together. I waited for a moment, expecting him to continue. When he didn't, I shot a questioning look at Krissilik. He Kobold grinned.
 
"Clan-kin Maundra speaks-little. We are new to human lands, yes! We pass through quick-brief, on travels to newer and greater things, but Maudra, he want to see sights, experience other cultures, live as others do. So-then, I say, we take whistle-stop-tour! Drink much, love women, live as heroes and legends do! Then we go, for glory and adventure, for make-money and gather-fame!" 
 
I smiled again, but this time, the expression was far more predatory. Most of the people spending money at the Second Circle have at least a general understanding of what their money's worth. That's why Kristoff knew I was overcharging him the first time. And it's considered bad form to fleece someone into playing an outrageous amount - if the guy finds out he's been grossly overcharged, he's going to take his custom elsewhere in the future, right? But sometimes, you get someone who obviously doesn't know what he's paying for, and doesn't seem like they're going to be back in a hurry. And believe me, if you're lucky enough to get one of them, you screw them for everything you can.
 
Brushing past Krissilik, I sauntered up to Maundra and gently stroked a finger along the line of his jaw. "Prices start at twelve." I said, stepping up on my tip-toes to whisper into his ear pit. "But you'll have to pay another three if you want me. The other girls, oh, they're fine, I suppose..." I pressed myself in tight against his huge body, letting him feel my ******* squashing against his chest, and purred softly. "But me? I'm here because I want to be. Because I'm eager. It makes me so much more...enthusiastic." 
 
My tail slithered around, slipping between the folds of his robes and running up and down the inside of his leg. Planting a kiss on his scaly cheek, I leaned back, looking to see what sort of effect I'd had on him.
 
He hadn't moved. Now, I'm not saying that every man melts at my touch or anything, but I couldn't help but feel a little put-out. For a moment I wondered if he and the Kobold were playing some sort of joke on me - maybe at Bryndila's behest - until the Dragoborn reached for his coin-purse and counted out fifteen gold coins, placing them down on the table with a distinct lack of ceremony.
 
"Your price is acceptable." He said, in that same growling monotone. I shot Krissilik another look, searching for any guidance from him, but the little Kobold had scurried off and was talking enthusiastically with another of the girls.
 
Well, joke or not, I wasn't going to turn down fifteen gold. I quickly scooped the money up and palmed it into my own purse, then took the Dragonborn by the hand. Or, rather, by the fingers - his had dwarfed mine to the point where it was easier to gently take hold of his first three fingers. "In which case, sir, come right this way." I said, and lead him upstairs towards my room. Walking ahead of him, I chewed my lip nervously. Like I said, I'd never been with a Dragonborn before, I didn't know the first thing about them - I had no idea what I was supposed to do to get the guy off! Ushering him towards the bed, I locked the door and turned towards him.
 
Okay, I thought. Okay. Just take things one step at a time. Get him ***** and see what you've got to work with. Sauntering towards him with more confidence than I felt, I slipped my hands under his robes. Letting my fingers dance on his flanks for a moment, I gently dragged them up, collecting his robe and sliding it off his shoulders as I did so. He wore nothing beneath it, so I took a deep breath, looked down and saw - 
 
- Nothing. No, not quite nothing. Where a human or an elf's **** might be, Moundra simply had a large, shallow pit. I gently probed it with a finger and, while it came away wet, I couldn't push it inside. 
 
Yea, you've guessed it - it was internal. I'd kinda suspected as such ever since my wandering tail had ran up the length of his leg and didn't find anything. Kneeling down in front of him, I ran my fingers up and down the slit, then reached forward and licked at the traces of moisture gathering on his scales. He didn't taste too bad - salty, but with a strange heat that lingered in the mouth - so I tried pushing my tongue in deeper, lapping at him like I might if I had to serve another woman. That, at last, got a reaction, but not the one I wanted. 
 
Moundra grunted and pushed me away. It was a small gesture - he obviously didn't want to hurt me - but I could feel the strength in his massive arm. "Not yet. Needs to come out first." He said. Sitting down on the bed, the Dragonborn shook his head, drawing my attention to a number of thin tendrils hanging down around his neck. I'd originally just taken them as part of the funny cartilage spikes they have instead of hair, but these were much smaller and more flexible. He pointed at them. "Here."
 
I almost breathed a sign of relief. Unhooking the straps of my dress from my shoulders, I raised my arms above my head and swung my hips from side to side, shaking the material loose and letting it slip away from me. The feeling of the soft material caressing my skin as it slid down the length of my body brought back a bit of my confidence, as did the hungry look Maundra gave my ***** body. 
 
Perching on his knee, I leaned against his body and ran a hand up and down his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his scales, then reached for one of the tendrils. It curled around my hand like a snake, and I gently played it through my fingers, stroking and caressing it with my thumb. The Dragonborn's eyes closed lazily and his breathing began to deepen, and I thrilled at the realisation that whatever I was doing, it was working. Licking my lips, I drew closer, took a second into my mouth and sucked it softly.
 
Something hot and wet grazed my thigh. I glanced down and saw his dick was starting to emerge from its sheath. I couldn't see much - my face was still tilted up into the nest of tendrils around his shoulders, but my heart skipped a beat - but he was big. Really big. I let another two tendrils slip into my mouth and played my tongue across them. He seemed to like that - or so I assumed by the low growl that reverberated from his chest - so I kept it up, alternating between slithering my tongue between the twisting fronds and flicking the forked tip against their ends. And all the while, I could feel his member pressed against my leg, growing, and growing, and growing.
 
Eventually, he gently pulled his head away. The tendrils slipped out my my mouth, and I could finally get a good look at his ****. For a moment, all I did was look. In retrospect it really shouldn't have surprised me, given how huge the man himself was, but at the time all I could do was stare. The thing was the length of my forearm, and the head had a sort of frill-like flare that, at its widest, was almost twice as thick as my wrist.
 
"Oh." I said. "Uhm. Okay. That's..." My mouth worked silently, eventually settling on a rather lame "...big."
 
The Dragonborn grunted. "Yes. Problem?"
 
I hesitantly reached down and placed one of my hands on it. For a moment, I thought about cancelling. Give him is money back and apologise. I needed the gold, but I didn't want to have to spend it all at the healers getting my insides put back into their proper places. But...I chewed my lip, idly playing my hand up and down the hot, hard length of meat, feeling the steady thudding on his heartbeat. He must have produced some sort of natural lubricant, because a slimy film was starting to build up on my hand. I stroked down to the base, then up again to his flare. I tested the frill gently, and it wasn't as unyielding as it had looked at first. The contented rumble emanating from the Dragonborn told me that my explorations weren't unwelcome. 
 
Well, I thought. You've already started giving him a hand-job. He's not as hard as he looks, and comes pre-lubed. Just so long as he's careful...
 
"No. No problem. You're going to have to loosen me up a bit if I'm going to take this monster, though." I said, patting his **** affectionately. "Can you help me with that?"
 
He nodded. I hopped off his knee and up onto the bed, getting onto my hands and knees and presenting my rear to him. The Dragonborn turned, grasping my tail by the base and running a thick, scaly finger across the entrance to my *****. 
 
"Oh, ****." I murmured. My own juices were starting to flow, and I pushed back as he probed for a second time, taking his finger into me up to the first knuckle. "Gods. Go deeper."
 
He pushed another knuckle into me, then pulled back. His finger was soon joined by a second, and I squirmed and cried out as he finger-****** me, sliding in and out of my hot *****. He curled his fingers and my gasps peaked into a sudden, throaty gasp as he found  my g-spot. 
 
"There?" He asked.
 
"Th-there. Yea, just th-ah!" I cried out as, in my moment of distraction, he inserted a third finger. I wiggled my hips back and forward, getting used to the feeling. There was just a tinge of pain, enough to jangle on the end of my nerves without being overpowering. I took a breath and nodded back over my shoulder, signalling him to keep going. He pulled my tail up and lifted my backside higher, pushing his fingers deeper into my aching cunt, working them back and forward as I sighed and murmured in pleasure. I was getting close to coming when he finally pulled out, leaving me gasping and frustrated.
 
"Ready now?" Moundar said. I guided his hand to my mouth and lapped my fluids from his thick fingers. 
 
"Ready." I nodded. Now, if I'm with a particularly big guy, I'll normally take him cowgirl - it makes it easier to control how deeply he penetrates me. But taking another look at the Dragonborn's tool, the image of slipping, and having the thing crammed into me in one go as I dropped, slid unpleasantly through my mind. "So, how do you want to do this?" I asked.
 
The Dragonborn stood, guiding me onto my feet and across the room. "Bent. Against wall." He said. 
 
I took a deep breath. "Okay. Sure. But one thing." I raised a finger up in front of his face, halting him. "We go slow, and if I say stop, you stop. Right?"
 
He nodded his agreement, and I took my position - arms against the wall, legs spread, back arched and ass thrust out. I felt the pad of his thumb running the length of my slit, then something softer brush against my folds. I tried to steady my breathing, but it was difficult - I was still desperately aroused from his fingers. I needed him inside me so badly, I had a hard job getting ready for him being inside me!
 
The tip of his head grazed me again, then slowly pushed its way past my entrance. I screwed my eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath, gritting my teeth in preparation for what was to come. Slowly, a little at a time, Moundar worked the flared head of his **** deeper into me. He was gentle but insistent, his hands clamped around my narrow waist, holding me steady even as my legs twitched and my fingers clawed at the wall. There was some pain - I'd never had anyone, or anything, so large - but our mixed juices helped ease him in and I blocked it out, concentrating on the growing pleasure as he slowly filled me. 
 
He stopped, and I heard him mutter from behind me, "Brace yourself."
 
He pushed forwards. The widest end of his flare popped into me. My eyes shot open and I screamed, loud enough that Camilla in the next room must have heard me, a mixture of agony and ecstasy shooting through my body as the orgasm he'd denied me earlier finally hit. 
 
"Stop-stopstopstop!" I gasped, beating one fist against the wall. "Shit, ****, oh bloody Gods above and below, g-give me a ******* moment!"
 
Thankfully, he complied. I sucked in another shuddering breath and reached a hand behind me, rubbing my clit until the lingering pain of his entrance had subsided. We hung there for a few moments - though at the time, it felt like hours - until I had gotten my breath back. "O-okay, go." I said. "Just, just, remember, like I said, stop when I say it."
 
The Dragonborn resumed his slow penetration, feeding himself into my hot, sopping depths inch by torturous inch. I wiggled my hips back and forth, trying to find a good angle for us both, but once his frilled head had been forced inside me, it wasn't nearly as bad. My breathing began to even out and I closed my eyes again, letting myself be pushed up tighter against the wall and enjoying the sensation of being so full. I half expected the sudden pain of him bumping against my cervix, but it never came. Eventually, I felt his scales brush against my backside, and hesitantly shot a look back over my shoulder.
 
I'd taken the whole thing. At the time, I didn't have the first idea how, but all I knew then was I'd somehow managed to take a **** that reached up to my belly-button to the hilt. I was stuck with my face pressed flat against the wall, my tail was slung over his shoulder and his dick had well and truly nailed me into position, but I couldn't help but let out a giddy, strangled laugh. ****, I felt proud. I had no idea how it was possible, but it felt like a ******* accomplishment. I could feel him inside me, a hot, heavy weight that pulsed slowly in time with our heartbeats and stretched me in every way imaginable.
 
Moundar seemed as confused as I was at first, but when I laughed, he must have assumed I was alright because he began the equally slow process of drawing himself back for another thrust. I heard myself mutter "Not the head, don't take the head out again" under my breath, and I guess he must have heard me because he stopped, just on the fringe of pulling his flare out, and drove back into me in one smooth motion. I grunted softly as he pushed back into me, then sighed as he pulled back a second time. There wasn't much else I could do but stand there, with my juices flowing down my spread legs, as he relentlessly thrust in and out of my quivering *****. At one point he ran a thumb up my thigh until it was slick, then pressed it against the tight ring of my asshole until I relented and let him ease that inside as well. Normally I would have stopped a guy who tried that without paying extra, but at that point, I was barely aware of my surroundings. There was just him, me, and the huge, hot piece of meat steadily pummeling me from behind. I came a second time, then a third, before I felt him starting to twitch inside me. 
 
"Let it go." I murmured dreamily. "Just let it go."
 
The Dragonborn gave a soft grunt and drove into me one last time. His hot seed surged forth, flowing into every space he hadn't already filled with his dick, spilling out around the lips of my ***** and trickling down towards my ankles along with my natural wetness. A fourth orgasm, smaller than the previous but no less welcome, surged through me as he pulled his dick out of me, bringing thick gobs of semen with it. Moudar collapsed backwards onto the bed while I slumped forwards into an ungainly, undignified heap on the floor amidst the mixed fluids of our ***.
 
Moundar must have moved me up to the bed, because the next thing I remember, he was gone and I was staring at the ceiling. Camilla and Tonila were sitting next to me and wiping me down. I was drenched in sweat and, from the waist down, come, and had bitten my lip and tongue bloody. It took a long time before I worked up the courage to explore my slit - I half expected to find a gaping, ravaged hole. But despite the strangely empty feeling in my midsection, I was raw and sensitive, but otherwise fine. 
 
"No, I don't understand either." Tonila said, noticing my explorations. "The last time I saw a girl take something like that, she'd been paid a fortune for some, uh," she trailed off, reddening, and Camilla cut in.
 
"Animal husbandry, let's say. The poor girl had to down half a dozen potions afterwards, and she still spent a week limping. But you look fine."
 
"Guess there was a succubus somewhere in the family line." I muttered, which drew a laugh from them both. Funnily enough, I was only half-joking.
 
"Well, one way or another, he left a hell of a tip." Tonilla said. Five extra gold coins had been left on the shelf next to the bed. "Bryndila's going to flip her lid. She had a bet going that you'd kick him out before he split you in half."
 
I sighed happily and muttered. "Sure. Y'mind if I...if I catch a...a nap here? Just...just for a while..."
 
I was asleep before I got an answer.