Turnabout

[ZincStandard]

Hey all! I recently got back into writing erotica by myself, and thought I'd share this story here, since Literotica rejected it (I'm not sure I agree it should count as bestiality, but I can understand their logic). If you like it and/or want to see more of my stuff, feel free to let me know!

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Dusk brought a rapid drop in temperature. As the sun gave up its oppressive rule, a chill breeze blew across the hill country, filling the air with the whisper of cypress leaves.

Anxiety tightened Ahura’s jaw. Less than an hour of daylight left, and precious little shelter to be had in this place. She knew well enough what hunted here at night; her odds wouldn’t be good if she were caught exposed.

She knelt atop one of the rocky crags that defined the landscape of southern Doros, surveying what lay ahead. Trails were harder to come by here than cover; the one she’d followed so far switchbacked down the slope to be swallowed up, from her vantage, by the dense thickets below. From what she knew of the region, she wasn’t likely to find much shelter following it in any case, not before the sun went down in earnest. She rose with a sigh of resignation. Scrambling about off the trails carried dangers of its own in this landscape, but it seemed she had little choice. Unconsciously, her hand went to rest on the hilt of the sword belted at her waist.

The wind blew her long raven hair into her eyes as she turned to follow the descent. With her golden complexion, it would’ve been enough to mark her clearly as a foreigner among Dorians even if she had adopted their dress; Dorians were hardly known for modesty, but they still covered themselves more than the sweltering humidity of Parsh allowed. At the moment, all she wore (apart from the leather thong sandals that were her only concession to Dorian fashion, and her sword belt) was a black-dyed cotton shirt of the style called a kamur in her mother tongue, short-sleeved and loose, the hem falling just below her hand-filling breasts, the open front held closed by a single tie. The lean muscle of her figure made it obvious that she was no pampered wife, though her hips retained a womanly swell.

The growing chill in the air made Ahura thankful for the many-colored tattoos that snaked across her body in patterns that a casual observer might have judged to be flames, or vines, or serpents, their true power and purpose known only to a few; where her near-nakedness might have made the wind uncomfortable for most, she felt it only as pleasantly cool, playing across her skin and making her nipples stand on end, a welcome change from the afternoon heat.

Of course, its touch also reminded her of the reason she’d foregone covering herself below the chest—not that she could’ve forgotten if she’d wanted to. Between her legs, shifting with her stride, a sack of dark brown skin, far darker than that around it, held a pair of orbs the size of chicken’s eggs, hanging low in their vessel; above, the same skin formed a thick sheath, within which something pink could just be glimpsed.

Ahura grit her teeth again as she felt the breeze brush her nethers. Not again… She knew there was no point resisting, but she still couldn’t bring herself to just let it happen. Inexorably, though, she felt it start—the swelling, the blood rushing downward as her heart rate picked up just that little bit. That part at least felt familiar, but what followed was another matter. Without having to look down, she felt the sheath above her out-of-place sack begin to stretch as something emerged from within, growing and hardening. Resigned, she allowed part of her focus to linger on the sensations—she had to admit, it did feel wonderful. As she descended the incline, digging her heels into the dry dirt of the trail, she felt the growth continue, pulsing softly in time with her heartbeat. Once more, she felt compelled to resist at least a little, not wanting to look down, but it was difficult to judge her footing with her gaze fixed resolutely ahead, and it was only a moment before she gave in again.

From the sheath between her legs protruded a penis, clearly unlike that of a man. It resembled nothing so much as a horse’s, flared at the head, with a ring of raised flesh halfway down its length (already formidable at a half-turgid eight inches), its mostly pink flesh mottled unevenly with the same dark brown as the rest of her misplaced endowments. As Ahura watched, it grew and hardened still further, more and more flesh slowly emerging from the sheath, standing out straight ahead from her hips, thickening to nearly as wide as her wrist. In spite of herself, she found her mouth watering, to say nothing of the feeling of it emerging, swelling, hardening, throbbing, the sensitivity of the skin sending shivers through her with every touch of the wind. By the time she reached the bottom of the slope, it was easily a foot in length, drips of clear precum starting to run from the slit at the tip down along the bottom of its shaft. The now-familiar scent that rose up to meet her nostrils had a quality unlike that of a man's musk, sharper and saltier. Normally, when Ahura found herself getting acquainted with a cock that belonged to something other than a man, the smell was one thing she could do without, but somehow this one made her feel differently.

Its presence was a pressure on her thoughts, insistent. She knew she would only be able to ignore it for so long, but the urgency of her circumstances helped. As she pushed her way into the thicket, following the crag that now loomed above, her attention was chiefly on finding a cave or hollow that would conceal her, the fantasies the thing spun playing about the edge of her awareness. Cypress leaves scraped at her bare flesh as she waded through the growth, sobering her further. The going was slow, the sun sinking low enough that she started to truly worry…there—in the rock face, the bottom disappearing below the ground, a narrow opening.

Ahura held her breath, her hand once again going to her sword. Slowly, she eased it from the scabbard, readying it as she crept toward the cave entrance, silent as she could. The weapon was of Dorian style, the two feet of leaf-shaped iron they called a xiphos—sturdy enough, but not much when it came to reach. Still, she’d handled halfmen and kiroi with less. Rolling her footfalls, she moved up to press herself against the cliff beside the opening, adjusted her grip, braced, and leaned to peer inside, straining her ears against the rustling of the trees.

Her caution seemed to be for naught; she heard nothing, and the fading light shining in revealed only stone. Relaxing a little, Ahura took a step back and crouched to enter the cave, minding her footing. Beyond a short tunnel that required her to stoop, the space opened up to the size of a small room, with a floor that looked flat enough to support a fire. Ahura felt the rest of her tension drain away; it was as good as she could ask for. She was hardly a pious woman, but she sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods were watching over her.

The sun was more than half set, and so she set about her work quickly. The foliage outside her shelter was plenty dry, and lit easily, the glow welcome with the landscape soon falling into darkness. For a moment, Ahura considered some deliberate camouflage for the entrance, but thought better; the tree cover was dense enough that she’d had to be practically on top of it to see it. Satisfied, she allowed herself to relax, her mood much improved as she sat before her cheerful little flame. Digging into the small pack she’d borne with her, she enjoyed a cold but no less filling supper of bread, cheese, and wine from her skin. Sated, she leaned back against the flattest part of the cave wall she’d been able to find, watching the orange tongues slowly consume the sticks she’d selected.

Her thoughts didn’t wander for long. With her stomach no longer rumbling, there was nothing left to hold back the intrusion of her erection into her mind. It hadn’t gone down at all while she’d set up camp, and now stood up from between her legs as if demanding attention, precum still dripping from the flared head as it throbbed subtly to the rhythm of her pulse.

Ahura sighed ruefully as she regarded it. With an absent hand, she rifled through her pack and retrieved something that glinted as she held it up to the flickering light: a pendant on a rough cord, beaten gold. It had the shape of a rearing stallion, simplified but easily recognizable, right down to the prominent erection protruding from between its hind legs. “You,” Ahura said with a scowl, “have caused me far more trouble than you’re worth.” The man she’d taken it from had been nothing but bones by the time she’d arrived, the victim of some trap against tomb robbers less skilled than her. She’d thought nothing of pocketing it, and had nearly forgotten about it until that night, when that voice had filled her dreams with its rantings and accusations and promised a desecrator’s curse until the treasure was restored to its rightful place.

Her feminine sex was untouched, at least, still there tucked away behind her mismatched sack. It was wet now, her inner walls softly squeezing around nothing. It wouldn’t be so bad, Ahura mused for the umpteenth time, if the thing would just stay down for longer than an hour or so. If she hadn’t had to stop six times along her way today to satisfy its demands, she’d be in Chionos by now. For being so insistent, the visitor in her dream had been awfully vague about just where she was supposed to return the pendant. And until she found out, she was stuck swinging around an apparently insatiable horsecock that made clothing herself below the waist either impossible or pointless.

At least it’s not as big as a real horse’s, Ahura thought, again for the umpteenth time. That brought her a rueful chuckle.

She had to admit, it wasn’t all bad either. She’d never forget the first time she’d jerked it off, the thought-shattering ecstasy that had flooded through her as her balls had tightened and she’d felt the first surge of cum being pumped up its magnificent length to shoot what must have been ten paces. She’d followed that first orgasm with three more without stopping; by the time her head had cleared, the hollow she’d camped in that night had been practically painted white. If her endowment couldn’t match a real horse’s for size, it seemed to hold its own in potency; indeed, Ahura could remember few partners of any kind that had surpassed it. The thought had crossed her mind more than once that before she set about getting rid of this curse, she really should find someone to help her fully test what this thing was capable of…she knew a few good brothels in Chionos…

The object of her thoughts throbbed harder, a shudder running through her and making her breath catch in her throat. Plans for the coming days were all well and good, but for now she was here, alone in this cave, quite unobserved.

The first few times she’d hesitated, but Ahura had given that up fairly quickly—giving in to the curse’s demands hadn’t seemed to make it any worse, anyway. Bringing her right hand up to her flared cockhead, she gathered up a generous measure of her now freely-flowing precum, smearing it over her palm and fingers. Thus prepared, she grasped her shaft firmly and started to stroke, a motion that had quickly become practiced. A heady sigh filled the cave, as Ahura wasted no time getting into the rhythm she’d figured out. Leaning back against the stone, she ran her slick touch steadily up and down, up and down, closing her eyes as lightning raced through her. With her free hand, she found her balls, hefting and gently massaging them, enjoying their pleasing fullness.

The smell of the thing was everywhere, filling her nostrils with each deep breath. Her body being seen to, she allowed her mind to wander as it would, through memories, her favorite encounters past—those soldiers from Lakora, they’d made her night as much as she’d ensured their possible last would be their best—and fantasies—since this cock belonged on a horse, perhaps she should try a mare, or even a stallion?

She felt the telltale build-up, her loins tensing, her erection growing harder than ever in her grip. Speeding up, she willed it to happen, slick sounds filling the cave as she stroked…

Crack.

Ahura froze. Breath held, she strained her ears. There, outside the entrance, not far…was that rustle the wind?

Her fire was the only light. Grabbing a handful of dirt from where it had spilled into the cave, she tossed it on what remained of the flames, plunging herself into near-pitch darkness. Slow, silent, crouch, sword out. Ears wide open; if they didn’t know she was in here, she’d hear them as they came.

Another rustle, closer. A faint snort. Her own scent blocked everything else—she wished she had some way to mask that too—but she could imagine another, a different sort of animal sweat and musk with a sour note she knew all too well. Halfmen.

The rustling drew nearer; they knew to be quiet as they approached, but her gut told her she hadn’t been discovered. Their kind were hardly more at home outdoors at night than humans…perhaps one separated from its herd, looking for its own shelter? Her grip tightened on her sword. Whatever the case, there was only one way out for her.

A shadow in the moonlight, right outside. Ahura held her breath…a black shape filled the tunnel, heat hitting her, the sounds of breathing and snorting and scuffing as it struggled to fit its bulk through the narrow passage.

Ahura struck. One thrust, low, where she knew vitals would be. Her sword met resistance, and all of a sudden a bleating cry went up, high with pain and panic. She drew back, recovered, thrust again, this time following through, pushing forward into the passage. The cry cut off with a gurgle, the great shaggy shape filling her vision jerking, going limp. She threw her weight forward, felt heat and hair like a wall, and then she was clear, the cold night air hitting her, moonlight silvering her surroundings. With a grunt, she gave one last shove, and the weight fell back, the silhouetted shape staggering, stumbling, falling with a heavy thud.

Forcing herself to breathe, Ahura swept her gaze all around. She’d caught one by surprise; had it been alone? No—there, three paces, another body crashing through the wood, in flight, bleating in panic.
It wasn’t wise to let a halfman flee. Sooner or later he would find his herd, and they were territorial once alerted. Ahura had made that mistake before.

Bending, she found the body; her hand met hot slickness. Straightening, she flicked the blood toward the ground at her quarry’s feet, to the roots of the trees. “Sayatva!”

There was a groaning and a rustling, and a sound like the crack of a whip; a startled grunt; a thump, and a sound of frantic scrabbling; then only more rustling, softer now, and a guttural sound of straining exertion. Panting, Ahura stood stock-still, straining to hear anything else, scanning around in the faint light. No other movement revealed itself. Relaxing once again, she congratulated herself on quick thinking—that spell had been a recent acquisition, and she was lucky it had occurred to her in the moment.

Ducking back inside her cave, she fumbled blindly for her pack and managed to locate flint and a torch. Striking up a light, she hastened back outside, judging vision to be more important than concealment at the moment. In the glow, the trail her would-be assailant had tried to force through the thicket in his flight was obvious—as was he, having barely made it eight paces.

The halfman lay sprawled on his belly, his arms and legs held fast by the branches of the living trees, wrapped like fetters around his ankles and wrists. He still struggled, snorting and grunting as he tried to break the bonds, but the plants allowed him little freedom even to thrash about, twisting and tightening as he tried to move. Cautiously, sword in one hand and torch in the other, Ahura approached. As she got close, she got a better look at him. Standing, he would’ve been over a head taller than the largest human, like all his kind, not including the curving horns that sprouted from his brow. Though naked, his whole body, from his goat-like muzzle to the tops of his cloven hooves, was covered in dense brown wool, though not so shaggy as to conceal a powerfully muscled form beneath. A short, tufted tail protruded from the base of his spine, flicking back and forth as he fought to free himself; yellow eyes, wide with terror, darted to and fro, clearly searching for any escape. They widened further at the sight of Ahura drawing near. She felt little sympathy. Halfmen knew fear, she was well aware, but they showed no restraint in their treatment of their own victims. Ahura had suffered their predations herself more than once. Some had been content to rape her and let her go once they were satisfied; other times, she’d barely escaped with her life.

Her jaw set, Ahura brought her sword to the halfman’s throat. He let out a bleat of panic, trying to pull away. He accomplished little…but Ahura found her hand stayed. A pall seemed to lift from her thoughts. She was far from soft-hearted, but executing a bound and helpless enemy didn’t appeal to her nature.

Taking a step back, Ahura surveyed the strength of her bonds; the halfman scarcely seemed relieved, but quieted a bit. Happily, her sorcery seemed solid, the plants showing no sign of loosening their grip or breaking before his resistance. Her mind made up, Ahura sheathed her sword (the halfman looking a little less terrified and slightly puzzled) and considered what to do. She still couldn’t let him go free; he’d certainly run back to his herd and have them after her by dawn, and she didn’t like her odds of outpacing them. If she wasn’t going to kill him, she’d simply have to keep him bound overnight and then leave him so when she set out. Her spell would hold as long as she kept the blood she’d fed to the plants on her fingers; she could feel it drying there now. Simple enough not to wash her hand for a while.

The halfman had stopped actively struggling to break free. Lying relatively placid on the forest floor, he looked up at her with obvious confusion; it seemed he didn’t understand why he was still alive. It occurred to Ahura that she had never been in this position over one of his kind before. She wondered, for what she realized was the first time, just what was behind those yellow eyes. Did halfmen speak? If so, from what she’d heard, they never cared to speak to humans. He seemed to know he was beaten, at least, his gaze still showing a mix of uncertainty and fear.

As she studied her captive, Ahura found herself remembering the times the situation had been reversed—the times she’d been held, used for the amusement of the ones who had overpowered her. The same distaste from before rose up, though more distant now. Truthfully, when she really thought about it, Ahura had to admit she’d rather enjoyed some of those rapes. She wondered…

Transferring her torch to her right hand, Ahura gestured with her bloodied fingers. Obediently, the plants twisted, cypress wood groaning faintly as it reshaped itself; the halfman gave another bleat, momentarily resuming his struggling, as he was moved, flipped over onto his back. Stepping closer again, Ahura took a look at him from this new perspective. Between his legs, she saw the only visible parts of his body that weren’t covered in wool, the enormous cock and pendulous sack he sported, the skin of both a uniform black. While halfmen overall resembled goats, Ahura thought their cocks were more like those of bulls than anything (though admittedly, she’d never really looked at a goat’s penis to compare), tapering smoothly along their whole length toward a pointed head. Ahura remembered how those cocks had felt inside her…and felt her own twitch.

Of course. In the struggle, she’d forgotten all about her erection. But it hadn’t gone away, if anything bolstered by the exertion. Her balls ached uncomfortably, and she realized she’d had to stop just on the point of cumming when the halfmen had shown up. That thought seemed to revive all the need of before, her nethers clenching hungrily.

She bit her lip, thoughts turning over in her head. Again, she found herself looking down at her captive, once more still and watching her with silent trepidation. Thinking it over, there was something pleasing to his shape—had he been human with that kind of physique, he would’ve been impressive indeed, not that Ahura didn’t appreciate the charms of other kinds of partners too. Here she was, with a bound and helpless halfman at her disposal, and a raging erection that needed tending to…sayings about turnabout and fair play ran through her head. Odds were she’d never have an opportunity like this again; why not give this creature a taste of his own medicine?

Casting about the forest floor, Ahura found a convenient rock to prop her torch against, freeing her hands. Once more, she gestured to her plants, watching them reshape on her command, moving the halfman with them. This time, they didn’t stop at turning him back onto his front, instead lifting him partly off the ground and forcing him onto his hands and knees, with his head down and his legs parted. Again, the halfman startled and struggled with the movement, and this time, he hardly seemed to calm once he was fully repositioned, his eyes still darting all around in search of danger. Ahura couldn’t help but chuckle, as she approached once again and knelt behind him, between his hooves. This time, she actually reached out to touch him, placing her hands on his buttocks (taking note of their firmness) and spreading them apart. There, beneath his tail: another small spot free of hair, the black skin forming a puffy, loose-looking pucker.

With a smirk, Ahura seized her captive’s tail in her left hand, holding it up and out from his body. The halfman gave a startled snort, and tried to yank the appendage out of her grasp, but she held it firm, yanking on it in what she hoped would be a suitably painful fashion to send her message. It seemed to work; the halfman fell still.

Straightening up on her knees, Ahura turned her attention back to her cock. As she had before, she brought her right hand to the head and set about gathering up her precum, once more flowing freely, to spread along her length until it was slick and wet from base to tip. As she worked, she was seized by a rush as the realization fully set in: she was about to rape a halfman. The thought was at once wonderfully perverse, and brought a heady feeling of power. Perhaps this was why everything with a cock seemed so keen to stick it in anything it could…

Too soon and not soon enough, she was fully lubricated and ready to move on to the main act. With a deep breath, Ahura took hold of her bestial cock and guided the flared head between the halfman’s cheeks, to his anal entrance. The halfman certainly seemed to register the contact, momentarily struggling again, but another yank on his tail proved enough to still him. Ahura paused, taking another deep breath. Then, without gentleness, she rammed her cock as deep as she could into her captive’s ass.

She wasn’t surprised to hear him cry out at that, but there was little he could do to struggle now. More importantly, Ahura instantly found her senses overwhelmed, pleasure whiting out her vision—whether from the physical feeling of her cock being enveloped by the heat of his anus, or simply the thrill of what she was doing, she couldn’t tell and didn’t care. Remembering that she’d wanted to give the halfman a taste of what his kind had done to her, she resolved not to be patient or take it slow, but merely to use him for her pleasure. Only paying cursory attention to his sounds and movements, she kept a firm grip on his tail and set about pounding his ass, thrusting her horsecock as deep inside as it would go, her rhythm fast and hard. Each thrust was met with a thump as her hips hit his buttocks; she was aware of him grunting and bleating, but paid no heed to any hint of tone.

Ahura had never fucked anything before—not with a cock of her own—but the motion was hardly complex. It was more of an exertion than she’d expected, but she had the strength and stamina to keep it up easily. Whether the halfman appreciated her attention or not, his ass seemed eager to admit her, loose enough that she could easily fit her whole length and girth while still hugging her tight enough to make the hot embrace blow any comparison with her hand out of the water. Her balls swung as she raped him, each swing forward bringing them to slap lewdly against his own, hanging down between his spread legs.

A small part of Ahura’s mind knew it was probably quite unwise to be making noise, never mind keeping a torch lit, in this place after dark, but Ahura was far beyond caring within moments. Any restraint she could have managed evaporated, leaving her grunting and gasping with ecstasy just as loudly as any noises her victim was making. The heat of his body around her cock was incredible, multiplying the pleasure beyond anything she could have thought possible. Less than a minute in, she realized that her abrupt stop earlier had left her hovering just a step from the edge, and she didn’t have far at all to go at this rate. She saw no reason to care. Quickening the pace of her thrusts, Ahura felt the pleasure build, her balls tightening once again…with an exultant cry, she came, burying herself to the hilt in the halfman as her cum erupted, pumping it as deep as she could into his ass.

It only took a moment for her head to clear enough that she knew she had no desire to stop. With hardly a pause, she began thrusting again, still holding tight to her captive’s tail, her free hand coming to rest on his backside, steadying her. She was unprepared for how those first renewed movements would feel—with the halfman’s ass full to bursting with her cum, it coated her cock and served as lubricant in its own right. The realization that she had just filled a halfman with her seed and was now using it to rape him even more set Ahura’s hunger alight all over again. She wondered what god had seen fit to deprive her of this pleasure all her life by having her born a woman…

She took it a little slower this time, wanting to draw out the experience. As she set up a steady thrusting rhythm, she noticed something: the halfman’s sounds and movements, which had at first seemed frantic, had changed. That low, repetitive grunt…was that a sound of pleasure? Curiosity seizing her, Ahura bent down and reached around his hips, feeling for the evidence…yes! Her hand closed around the hard flesh of his cock—he was enjoying this!

That made her laugh. As she fucked him at her own leisurely pace, she wondered, if his kind did indeed have a language, what he would tell his herd when he returned. With a slightly more relaxed grip on his tail, she settled in to enjoy the spoils of her victory. After another minute, she thought she felt him moving his hips back against her thrusts; with a smirk, she released his tail and seized his waist with both hands, pulling him roughly toward her in time with her movements. Judging by how his grunts grew louder, he seemed to enjoy it. There definitely was something satisfying about it, at any rate.

She wasn’t sure how long it was before she started to feel the telltale build-up once again. Just as before, she saw no need to hold back, and simply let her body do as it would, her thrusting quickening again. She thought she sensed a shiver run through her captive’s body. If he was excited, he didn’t have long to wait; once more, Ahura felt her balls tighten against her body, and with another cry, she surrendered to her climax, forcing her animalistic endowment as deep inside the halfman as it would go to let loose her flood of cum. For the first time in a while, he answered her with a louder bleat of his own, but this one still didn’t sound afraid or shocked.

This time, as Ahura came down from her high, she found her head clearing more fully, her cock finally seeming satisfied, for the time being. Already she felt it starting to soften; with an intake of breath, she withdrew from the halfman’s ass, the chill night air a shock against her slick flesh. As soon as her head emerged, a flood of cum followed, spilling out of the halfman’s anal entrance—still gaping slightly from its vigorous use—and running down his balls or matting the wool of his thighs. As she pulled back, Ahura noticed something else in the torchlight: on the ground below the halfman were several more streaks of semen. Apparently, he’d enjoyed an orgasm of his own. Ahura chuckled again at that.

The halfman panted and snorted, apparently catching his breath; as she pulled free, he twisted his head to regard her over his shoulder. She wasn’t sure what to make of his look; the uncertainty was still there, of course, but he didn’t seem afraid for his life anymore. Remembering her past experiences, Ahura showed him no acknowledgement as she stood up, her softening cock hanging heavy nearly down to her knees. With an inward shrug, she collected her torch and turned to head back inside her cave, leaving the halfman bound outside, on his hands and knees with cum oozing from his well-used asshole.

Part of Ahura wondered if it wasn’t wrong leaving him out there, defenseless like that. If something hungry came along, he’d have little hope. Well, the vindictive part of her countered, he should’ve thought of that before tangling with a sorceress. If things weren’t decided for her first, she’d get on her way in the morning and then release him once she had a solid head start.

Exhaustion washed over Ahura as she lay down beside the embers of her doused fire, thinking about the night’s events. One thing was for sure, she remarked as she lapsed into sleep: if she encountered any more halfmen before she managed to get rid of this curse, she would remember to try and take one alive.