Sunday, May 6, 2018

Furs, Swords and Sorcery 3 - by FurCreamer

The wheel of generic fantasy class stereotypes lands on “Barbarian” today. Which is nice, because I don’t have to explain a bunch of made-up fur thaumaturgic principles with mountains of exposition. Barbarian… is tall, and has muscles… and hits people. This one also has big boobs.

I know, totally pioneering stuff here, folks.

On with the show…

Tara Icecarver in “Playing the Ponies”, by FurCreamer

Tara Icecarver’s right hand clenched the thick, padded, two-foot wide blue fox hat, drawing it with a practiced precision down the underside of the centaur’s mottled, fifteen-inch shaft. The deep pile of fur cradled the huge equine shaft from the flared, dripping head down to the heavy, dark sac at the opposite end.

The rich hues of the hat matched the big patches of a fox bikini that tried to cover the massive globes of her chest. Big fox tails dangled from the lower fringes of the fur bikini, both top and bottom. A pair of matching blue fox boots sheathed her tight calves from heel to a set of thick round cuffs just over her knees. A wild mass of bright red hair cascaded over her shoulders and mixed with the fur top. Thin black, tribal designs snaked around her arms and crossed her muscular shoulders.

The big centaur bucked, literally, and let out a higher-pitched gasp than she expected. Tara’s well-toned, tattooed arm held onto the centaur’s cock with ease. She was seated on a tree stump in the collection of tents and rudimentary defenses that comprised the centaur war camp. The brown-skinned centaur stood on a pile of skins and pelts dragged from the nearby tents and laid in front of Tara’s seat.

Tara’s long, powerful legs splayed open in a somewhat less than ladylike manner while she continued to work the horse cock with the lusciously soft fur hat. Clustered around them, five other male centaurs watched with rapt attention, their own long cocks bouncing against their stomachs with eager masturbatory motions. Dribbles of pre created small wet puddles in the packed dirt below them.

“Oh, the pony is pleased!” she said with a happy shout, increasing her pace and slapping the centaur’s flank. Some expressions of ire at the slight filtered through the anticipatory, hopeful centaur eyes surrounding them at the slight, but faded rapidly as their companion made a guttural cry of release.

Tara felt the pulses through the hat as big, white jets of cum sprayed from the flared tip of the horse cock. The front of the big blue fox hat started soaking in the buttery-thick jizzum that rolled down the pale, pink flesh. She could feel the force of the centaur’s frenzied thrusting as he threw everything into fucking the soft fur hat in his sweet, sweet release. His cum teemed into the big pile of pelts and skins gathered below, along with his own front legs and belly.

“Backed up?” Tara announced, quite entertained by the enormous flood of thick, potent horse spunk blasting the rough sleeping pelts. She again slapped his flank like a common riding steed, a broad smile of accomplishment on her face. “You’ve been sleeping on all these furs and still have full nuts?” she made a tsk’ing sound. “Boys are so naive.”

The satisfied centaur’s orgasm ended with a few final spurts that mostly soaked into the blue fox hat. Drops ran off and landed in the expanding group of white, lumpy puddles in the fur beneath him. Tara released the shaft, which dangled as it softened. His labored breath followed him as he trotted away from Tara, who remained seated on the tree stump, holding her huge, now partially jizz-plastered blue fox hat in her muscled right arm.

Some of the centaurs exchanged eager glances.

Tara flexed her impressively toned arm, “My arm is hardly tired.”

One of the other assembled onlookers started forward, but the leader knocked him back with a stiff body check. She knew he was the leader mostly because of his age, scaring, and, per centaur tradition, the size of his dick. “Ah, something meaty,” she announced with a broad smile.

“Do your work, slave,” he snarled. This one watched with utmost interest after the recently captured barbarian offered this “unique” form of release when their arousal became obvious. He allowed one of his least experienced warriors to try after the rather unusual circumstances of her “capture” on the morning patrol. The patrol leader reported this formidable looking human put up no fight and willingly returned to camp.

Tara released an amused chortle as the leader approached. She grabbed the leader’s enormous equine shaft with the soft fur hat in her right hand, squeezing it around the underside in a deep, soft cradle of sumptuous blue fox. “Well… I’m not really looking for long-term commitment.” She began to stroke the huge hat under his rapidly lengthening cock, “But… I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Whatever retort the leader may have had in mind caught in his throat with a pleasured gasp. The sensation of the fur stroking his fat, veiny horse dong sent pure pleasure arcing through his haunches and up his spine. His hind hooves shifted to press closer to Tara, who continued the long, deep stroking motions. The leader’s two-foot monster dong started to leak a chunky white pre into the blue fox hat at the crest of each stroke. Ropes of stiff semen began spidering down her toned arm as it overflowed from the increasingly soaked fur.

Tara’s amused smile widened as the leader’s grunts quickened, and his haunches bounced. “I thought horses were known for their stamina,” she exclaimed. The huge horse cock surged against her strokes, hungry for more of the ultra soft fur in her powerful grip. The sound of the leader’s pleasured cry probably was not the sort of the noise his soldiers expected.

The sight and sound of a heavy gout horse spunk splattering across the gathered pelts caused the gathered centaur onlookers to twitch. The heavy white stream covered much of the first centaur’s pooled ejaculate, spreading across the furs below. His flanks heaved with the effort, forcing himself against the fur with wild grunts.

The big blue fox hat turned fur sex toy was quickly consumed by the drooling runoff from the huge flare, turning into a soggy mass of matted hair and spunk.

Tara released a hearty, pleased laugh and swung the big centaur cock toward her huge, round tits and big blue fox bikini straining to hold them in. Vast streams of chunky, white horse snot splattered across them, big lumps clinging to the fur and rolling down the tails attached to the lower fringe. Some back-splatter hit her neck and chin, but her firm grip kept the big veiny monster easily under control. The centaur leader’s plump, grapefruit-sized sac continued to pour sticky goo across her huge tits, completely drenching her fur bikini.

The steady gasps of pleasure from the centaur’s cracked, human lips ebbed with the force of his cum shots. Tara dropped the softening shaft, which flopped between his legs and continued dripping. She rose to her impressive full height, fresh cum slowly leaking down her bare, muscled midriff from the flood of semen above. She made an exaggerated yawning and stretching motion, slapping the leader’s haunch in a manner that would send any common pack horse trotting off.

Tara dropped the sloppy mass of what had been a very large blue fox hat into the heavy puddle of spent centaur jizz in the pile of pelts at her feet. “Freebie, you guys can finish each other off,” she said with a cheery smile.

The expressions of the gathered centaurs switched between envy and confusion, with more than a few looking longingly at the ruined fur hat.

“You were all paying close attention to the technique, after all.”

Some of them shifted uncomfortably on their hooves as Tara pressed through like a happy tourist.

“Halt, slave!” the leader cried, though somewhat breathlessly.

Tara pivoted on her fluffy blue fox boot, holding a hand to her cum-soaked chest, “Me?”

“Yes!” he sputtered, “You have been captured! You will serve this camp as a slave until we return to the Taurian Empire where you will be sold!” The leader’s voice slowly regained some measure of command as the afterglow his powerful orgasm wore off.

Tara laughed innocently, “Oh, sorry, I’m confused… You fine gentlemen found me this morning down by the river and invited me back to this camp. This fine fellow,” she pointed to the first centaur, “even offered to carry my sword for me.” None of the centaurs moved against her as she approached the camp’s weapon store, listening to her tale while exchanging confused glances.

Tara picked up a three foot long, well-worn great-sword from where it was dumped on the ground earlier in the morning. “I have greatly appreciated your hospitality, but you know… places to go,” she spun the massive blade like it weighed nothing, “people to violently eviscerate.” She began a casual stroll for the camp entrance.

The camp leader, seeing the confused state of his troops, screamed, “Seize her!”

Tara turned, glanced back over her shoulder, and smiled cheerfully, “Oh. Volunteers.”

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