The Boots at the Center of the Universe

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Chapter 6 A Tale of Two Tallywhackers

Rough Annie and Furry Feargus were sprawled across the moss-covered flagstones, their naked skin just skimming the surface. Annie couldn’t remember the last time she’d made time to enjoy the sensation of ultrasupple moss. She only wished she’d been better hydrated. She was feeling slightly vertiginous and even a little befuddled. The latter concerned her, and she sighed as she mulled over the peculiar mind muddle.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Furry said.

Annie snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You don’t get a discount just because we fucked, and you can’t afford my thoughts at the going rates.”

“You sighed,” Furry said by way of explanation. “Is something wrong?”

Annie rolled over to look at the wolf man.

“I’m disappointed in myself, mongrel,” she said, and ran her fingers through the dark curls on his chest. “I had a three-dick werewolf at my disposal, and the best I could come up with was a basic one-dick fuck. I used to be more innovative. Do you think my transformation may have put my intellectual capacity on the fritz? Maybe it’s not just my body that’s been restored to an earlier iteration. Maybe my millennia or more of seasoned magical genius has degenerated to pubescent pearls of wisdom, the meager mind of a child prodigy.”

Furry smiled and brushed aside a wild lock of hair that had fallen in front of her flashing eyes.

“You’ve been focused on other things,” he said. “Your studies and business and the manipulation of weather patterns—that new perfume you created with Lucia. Besides,” he added, “everyone thinks just because you’ve got three dicks you’ve got to use them all every time, but that’s a lot of creative pressure. Sometimes, one dick is more than enough to get the job done.”

It occurred to Annie that she might have more in common with Furry than she’d realized in the past. After all, knowing that every libidinous lout on Euterpe wanted to take credit for her thousand year orgasm was a lot of pressure, and so, too, was being the cleverest witch in the world.

“That’s not the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” she told him, and she meant it, which was high praise coming from Rough Annie.

She couldn’t remember now why she’d waited so long to take a man to bed. Was it because, as the hairy love hound pointed out, she was too busy in her laboratory? Preoccupied with her profitable perfumery? Whatever the case, by the time she began thinking about sex again, satyrs were fantasizing about how great it would be to bang her.

It’s not that she didn’t like the idea of being desired by everyone in the world. In fact, she felt it was as it should be. It’s just that it became a whole big thing, and then she had to ask herself: What if, after all the hype, her first orgasm in a thousand years was only okay? The odds of disappointment had seemed unreasonably high.

Maybe it was the same for Furry and his pitchfork. Maybe he felt the burden of overinflated expectations, too. The thought made her feel connected to the canid courier. It was a novel experience for someone who prided herself on scientific detachment and psychopathic indifference.

Her musings were interrupted by a fresh wave of desire for Furry. Annie threw her arm across his firm, broad chest and nibbled at his neck. She reached down to stroke his notorious three-headed beast, and then, she sat bolt upright in shock.

“Furry,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Yes, Annie.”

“How are you feeling?”

“How do you think, Annie? I feel weightless, happy, and hornier than a rhino reunion,” he said and then followed her gaze to his groin.

“It’s probably not permanent,” she said, trying to reassure him.

“My cock!” he cried.

“Now, Furry,” Annie said, “I know this looks bad, but—”

“It looks bad, Annie? Yes. It does. It looks bad. Where’s my cock, Annie?”

She nodded at her own crotch. Furry’s dark prong was now positioned between her legs, and not in the pornographic way that it had been earlier. No. Annie was now in full possession of Furry’s fucker. It was hers to do with as she pleased.

Furry didn’t seem nearly as delighted with the idea as Annie was. In fact, she saw terror in his eyes, so she tried to console him, one of the few tasks not within her wheelhouse.

“Furry, look, you still have one more cock than any werewolf on Euterpe aside from Double Barrel Daryl, and he’s not even in your delivery zone.”

Furry groaned.

“The world is my delivery zone, Annie,” he said, forlornly, “and being the only three-dick werewolf in the world, maybe the universe, that’s the only identity I’ve ever known.”

Annie nodded her head.

“I think I understand. I do, but you’re Furry Feargus, the fleet-footed courier no matter how many dicks you have,” she whispered, nuzzling against his neck.

She tickled a trail to his ear with the tip of her tongue. Goosebumps spread over the wolf man’s skin, and Annie’s new appendage stirred, sending shivers through her body as well. The shaft grazed Furry’s thigh, and the contact caused her to shudder and sigh with pleasure. The courier’s two corresponding cocks stiffened in accord.

Annie eyed Furry hungrily and wondered what it would feel to explore his dark valley with the rigid divining rod. Her reverie was disrupted by a shrill shriek from the front door.

“Feargus! Your cock! What’s happened to your cock?” Gentle Ginger cried out like a banshee. She caught Annie in her sights and shook her finger in disapproval. “I suppose you had something to do with this, missy.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you tedious termagant? In fact, I had very little to do with it. Hardly anything. A rogue Cherubruces flatulentis shot him with a charmed arrow. Obviously, the enchantment transmigrates Furry’s cock to his most recent conquest. That’s me, you nattering nag, and before you ask, I don’t have to share anything with you.”

She turned back to Furry and said, “I have a hypothesis if you’d care to hear it, an experiment that might put things back to normal if that’s what you want.”

He nodded, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“If I fuck you with your own cock, maybe it’ll transmigrate back to where it belongs.”

Furry pondered her idea but didn’t seem sold on it.

“What if it doesn’t work?” he said. “What if, instead, you wind up with two cocks and I wind up with one—or even none! Hecate have mercy!”

“Look, Furry, you know what they say: sometimes you have to give up all of your cocks to make room for new cocks.”

“I’ve never heard that,” Furry said and looked at Ginger, who was still standing in the doorway contemplating the scene. “Have you heard that?”

“Well, no,” Ginger said. “But my sister has read more widely than anyone in Euterpe. If there’s a witch in the world able to get to the root of your transmigrating rooster riddle, it would be Rough Annie.”

“Would you trust her with your cock?” the werewolf asked.

Annie gave her sister a warning look, and Ginger smiled reassuringly at him.

“I’d trust my sister with my life.”

Annie practically purred.

“That’s not what I asked,” Furry said.

Ginger shrugged. “I don’t have a cock, so I can’t answer definitively, but one way or another, your cock is in her care. Whether or not you like it, your choice appears to be this: trust Annie or give up orgasms altogether to save your last two spears, Feargus dear. But if you’re not ever going to use them again, what’s the point in protecting them so doggedly?”

Furry whimpered, and Annie’s magic wand quickened as she imagined the wolf man on all fours. She covered him in kisses—his muscular arms, his furry chest, his tender sidemeat that shivered against her lips. At last, she reached his two remaining rods, and she kissed the head of each beast before circling the circumference of one with her tongue. She lapped up the dewdrop that had accumulated there and massaged the taut, purple tip between her trembling lips. The wolf man groaned, and Annie’s cock throbbed.

“On your knees, Fido,” Annie said with a wicked laugh.

She wanted to be gentle like her sister, but it wasn’t in her nature. She was greedy and hungry, and it felt as if all of her consciousness was narrowing to a pinpoint, as if the cock was a lightning rod channeling every electrical spark in her body to its tip. She goaded the wolf man to his knees, so she could get a better look at the narrow port she planned to pillage.

The puckered passage contracted when she caressed it with her slick, purple head. She let viscous pearls of moonshine collect in the crevice between Furry’s firm haunches before she pressed the head of her cock into his resistant rump. He howled, and the tight slippery ring squeezed around Annie’s shaft, sending a shock of pleasure through her entire body. She cried out wildly and buried her bone to the hilt, grinding her pelvis to plunder the pulsing passage.

The sensitive head of her cock quivered and convulsed, overwhelming Annie with lust, compelling her towards a more aggressive campaign on Furry’s keister. She pulled her shaft almost completely out, leaving only the slick, taut head throbbing in the tunnel’s tight entry. Furry was panting, and his back was tensed in anticipation of her next attack.

She ran a hand along his spine, relaxing his muscles, and then reached around his mid-section to wrap her fingers around the closest cock to her. She stroked it, and he moaned and bucked against her. His desire for her and the pressure of his magic ring squeezing her shaft—the sensation sent her over the edge. She cried out and gripped his hips, driving her divining rod deep into Furry’s dark valley, battering at his backside, sinking the shaft over and over into his tender, feverish flesh until he howled with ecstasy.

Annie’s cock convulsed. White heat ripped through the rod, paralyzing her with an all-consuming pleasure. Her limbs stiffened, and electricity coursed over her skin. Even the hairs on her head shivered with the thrill of filling Furry with moonshine. She shuddered as the last drops were squeezed out by Furry’s rosy wringer. The emptied cock flopped between her legs, and Furry flopped to the ground, knackered by his own sleeping spell.

Annie exchanged a glance with Gentle Ginger, who had watched the entire spectacle from the front door.

“Is that what you thought would happen, sister?” Ginger asked.

Annie snarled. “Don’t you have something to bake?”

Ginger shrugged and left Annie to meditate on where her calculations may have been off and whether, in fact, she was getting dumber by the day.

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