Francis christened his new bed. He baptized it in the fires and torment they would need to endure in the future, with the one in his mind at the time of the Christendom being in the first... twenty. Fifteen was more likely, though he felt ten would be just right, but he wasn’t too big a gambler. He knew she would come. Oh, he knew she would. The look on her face as he shoved her against the wall, out of the way of the true carnage; if he could smell anything but blood, he bet she would have been reeking of lust. Her pants were soaked through, but he wasn’t into water sports.
He didn’t stop there, though. His mind turned to Dixie, and he needed to bless the guestroom, the living room -every seat- the bathroom, the water closet, and, finally, the kitchen. It was a good thing he stripped down before he even began, for the amount of sweat he was caked in made the scum sliding down the sink look almost vapid in comparison. The house reeked of him, and he finally felt at home. He didn’t know who lived there before, but it reeked of cinnamon and lavender. Now? Au naturel.
He sighed, wiping off the end of his member with a paper towel, then went to go take a shower. He stomped through his puddles, squelching, louder as he ground his heel into them, marring the dark blue carpet. It didn’t matter; by the time he got out of the bathroom, it would all be cleaned up. The apartments, as Eve told him before, were under watch by sprites. So long as he wasn’t in any of the rooms beside, they were obligated to clean –which was proven as he entered the bedroom. Spotless. So was the bathroom, even as he released another. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but as that hot water cascaded down his back, as it worked its way through his scars and muscle, they turned to hands, nails digging in. The water, rushing down the pipe, turned to moans, muffled roars as they slurped and teased at his member.
No. He wouldn’t be satisfied. Not by himself, not anymore... Even with that last, he hungered for more. His body rose to the occasion, both out of spite and need... Francis groaned, stepping out of the shower, and trudged back into the living room –clean as a whistle. Well, it was before he walked in. He was still dripping water; at least it was only water.
He collapsed on the couch, groaning, and grabbed the remote nestled in its side caddie, turning on the TV. It felt like forever since he would simply vedge out buck naked in front of the boob tube. The last time was when he was surrounded by four coked-out models vying for his attention so they could get a discount on their next order. He never did give them one, but he at least gave a tip. Even then, for three of them, that felt like he was going to rip them apart. The fourth? He actually did rip apart, and did anal and vaginal at the same time. Skeletons: not even once. The only blessing he had from all that was she so doped out she didn’t notice until well later, and, from what he gathered, that walkway was painted red, white, and brown.
Thankfully, thinking of that did some to curb his urge... but not enough. He huffed, scanning through the channels, growing more annoyed by each click.
Over 400 channels, and nothing good to watch, he thought, and finally gave up. He turned it off, slung the remote back into the caddie, and slapped his legs. Well, I guess I should head out. The stores below are a good place to start. Perhaps the hobby st-
“I’m a fucking idiot,” he bellowed, slapping his forehead. Remembering what he forgot. He looked down on himself... and chuckled, bitter. “I don’t have any clothes... The bag is still in the trunk.”
He slung himself at the back of the couch, grunting, but still chortled, shaking his head... Before turning his thoughts on someone else, someone who knew! Eve knew. She knew, and drove off with it. She didn’t even mention it to him! Oh, that snake; funny, but cruel. So very cruel... He could always throw on what he had on earlier. Not a bad idea. He left them in the second drawer in the bedroom across from the b- and they were gone, with a note from the sprites.
Taken them to be mended and cleaned. Will be back tomorrow.
That’s great and all, but what am I supposed to do now!
He growled, deeper, and the fans on his arms and back trembled, wanting to flex free... You know what? If Eve wanted to play this game, he can, too! Francis righted himself, puffed out his chest, and marched to the front door. There he tied on his boots, making sure their strings were tight as they could, and took a deep, resounding breath. He held it, standing before that replaced door, and grabbed its handle, readying to wrench it open.
As a knock thudded through... He was already there. He was all-in! He flung the door open, and the woman on the other sides hand fell through the air, landing on his bare chest. She was a centaur so at least she wasn’t knocked off-balanced, but she did recoil seeing him in the buff. Her pointed face went through so many emotions, from pleasant to annoyed to flabbergasted to mortified, all for the exemplary specimen of manliness before her. She had red hair, at least shoulder-length though it was hard to tell with how many curls they had, wrapping and hiding her dainty little ears. Her eyes, a strong, piercing green, were alight, shining like emeralds. His eyes drifted lower, watching in between those front legs kicking, a soft cream color for most of her body. Her human features were a tanner shade, and actually darker than her more bestial parts. Save for the rings of pure black around her hooves. She had a bountiful chest, barely kept in by a dark brown tank top, made even worse with her spooked state. The last part of her he noticed was her haunches and the white “dress” there; it had a hole cut out for her tail, but the rest of it was hidden behind the shower-length amount of material used for her modesty.
At last she settled, but could not look him in the eye. Nor even begin to speak. Which left him to break the ice... as always.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I... don’t... I don’t really know. I’m sorry; I’ll be leav-” She began, hooves trotting, clacking nervously in place, but she didn’t budge from it. Even as she sputtered and fell over her own words.
Stopped as he spoke again.
“Wait... I remember you,” he said. Lied.
“Yeah... You were in the hall yesterday. Fourth floor. I saw you as I crashed through the fifth.”
“It was actually the third.”
“Ah! Well, you know, falling and all-”
“Yeah.” They both chortled, and her clacking slowed. She still couldn’t look him in the eye, but at least she was smiling.
“What are you doing here, though? Didn’t you have class today?”
“I do. It’s our lunch time.”
“We’re allowed to leave campus during that? Bitchin’. Doesn’t answer my question, though.”
“Right. Well... I’m Ezra. You met my best friend yesterday, Dixie-”
“How is she? She’s not hurt, is she?”
“She’s fine. Thanks to you-”
“No. It’s because of me that she was almost hurt.”
“No one blamed you for that. Those fangers have been major twats for the last few months.”
“Didn’t school just start?”
“People actually WANT to go to school during summer? That’s fucked up... Still. If it wasn’t them, it would have been someone else. The curse of being so beloved.”
That got a chuckle out of her... but her eyes refused to inch anywhere near him. Even as he stepped out. Ezra retreated from him, keeping him in front, even as he tried to circle.
“A-anyways,” she pressed on, clearing her throat. “I just wanted to stop by and say thank you for looking out for her.”
“No prob. Least I could do. She didn’t do a half-bad job showing off the place.”
“Yeah, Lilith told her you said she did well. You should have seen the smile on her face. She even cried.”
“Wow. Didn’t know my word meant that much to her... So why isn’t she here, instead?”
“O-oh. I-i-it’s because she t-tutors during lunch.”
“She really is a sweetheart, isn’t she?” He stopped- but lunged, making her cry out... silenced as he caught her by the waist. Balancing her before she could fall down the stairs. Her eyes shot back; her face paled, seeing those concrete slabs and how close her hind hooves teetered on it. Then, finally, looked him in the eyes.
“T-thank-oh. Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t-”
He stepped back, still holding her, easing her back on all fours, and huffed as he let her go.
“It’s fine. Again, I’m used to it... Do you live here in the dorms?”
“I... I do. I was going there next.”
“Great. What are we having?”
“I mean, I did just save your life. All I had were flambeed hot dogs. At the crack of dusk. Seriously, how do day people deal with this school?”
“They don’t, but that’s to be expected. H-himan are predisposed to be nocturnal.”
“Yes, but what about the more human of the bunch? Witches, wizards-”
“Witches are himan, actually. Wizards aren’t.”
“Damn! I was really hoping to call Plank a monster for shits and giggles.”
“P-plank?” She shook her head, then pointed down the path to his room. “Anyways, I only have another thirty before I head back. I’m all the way at the end.”
He gestured to it, an embellished, over-the-top gesture, wearing a big, goofy smile.
“After you... or are you going to tell me which door to stop by? Afraid of ‘little’ old me?”
He darted his eyes down, down to his still raging member... but his smile faded as her eyes stopped halfway, catching what he was saying.
“317.” She stated, and clacked her hoof, indignantly, on the concrete. She crossed her arms under her chest, the heat returning to her cheeks, waiting for him to turn around and march- “Wait. Are you really going to my place like that?”
“Well... you know...”
“I’m not following.”
“You only have boots on.”
“Why yes I do. Thank you for noticing. Oh, but don’t worry. I’ll take them off when we get inside. I was raised proper.”
“Y... you can leave them on.”
“Kinky, but I insist.”
Francis chuckled as he clomped his way to the door five down from his. He spun on his heel- regretting it as the bar rung from being hit with the Hammer. But it endured; in fact, he swore it grew from the impact, happy that it was getting any attention at all that wasn’t his calloused claws. He took a few more steps back as she approached, waited for her to unlock the door... and rolled his eyes as she handed it to him... then waited for him to walk in before grabbing it again. Her apartment was set up like his, one-to-one. The only differences were the furniture, large, plump cushions instead of couches. Instead of chairs at the table in the kitchen.
She fetched a towel for him out of the water closet and forced him to sit on it at the table in the kitchen, then went to work to cook –which she actually had a microwave! Again, Eve, you conniving snake!
“Are you okay with pepperoni pizza?” She said, holding up the pocket variety of what she described.
“I guess? It’s been years since I had one. Just make sure to put in a cup of water with it.”
“You’d be surprised how many don’t know that trick.”
“True... Again, thank you for looking out for Dixie-”
“You don’t need to thank me so much.”
“But I do. She was... terrified.”
“I know. Most people are of-”
“Not. Not because of you... She really doesn’t like being around people... We both came from Missouri, where she was picked on something fierce. Being called a piggy takes on a whole new meaning when you’re an orc... Her parents simply thought she was born ‘wrong’-”
“Her parents aren’t orcs?”
“They weren’t even himan.”
“How does that work?”
“Orcs are interesting. I decided to research them when I found Dixie at the family ranch. Well, I didn’t know she was an orc at the time; just that she had some strange features.”
“That sounds like the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Oh, it could have been better... Far better... Here’s yours-”
“Such a pig.”
“I’m a growing boy... What did you find out, though?”
“It turns out orcs are a very common mutation of man. There’s a reason why cannibals call man ‘long pig’. It’s mostly in men, though, which, when they hit puberty, they become extremely aggressive. They fight, they murder, they rape... Most end up being memory-holed.”
“Thanks to the Black Marshes,” Francis muttered.”
“I said these hot pockets aren’t as good as I remembered. They aren’t bad, but they are far... doughier.”
“That’s my fault. I like mine a bit giving.”
“Well, a few seconds longer on the second then-”
“You’re not getting a second one.”
“Evil! Evil, I tells ya... Can I have a bottle of water, then? Since you flashed one.”
Ezra rolled her eyes, and opened the fridge again, pulling out another before she trotted over. She tossed it towards his lap, but caught it before the cold plastic could even graze it. The centaur huffed, shaking her head, then folded her legs under her, settling onto the cushion across from him, finally savoring her pocket of questionable heat.
“Female orcs are a rarity,” she continued, muffled by the meaty, cheesy, VERY DOUGHY mix she bit into. “Scientists for years thought the orc mutation was tied to the Y-gene. Instead, after more cases of female orcs started to surface, they found that the code found a way to survive. Whereas men would become hyper aggressive and vicious, female orcs became hyper-virile, doting. Motherly. They were more in-tune with their emotions, but a side-effect was they were more self-conscious, always afraid that one slip, one misgiving, and they would become an absolute slut.”
“Damn. That’s... a lot to put on her shoulders.”
“It didn’t matter at that point. She was bullied so much, by her teachers, by other students, by her parents... she tried to hang herself in our orchard.”
“WELL! THAT escalated quickly. Holy shit.”
“If I wasn’t out picking apples that day I wouldn’t have even found her... She tied the noose too loose, so she was left to dangle and choke. The way she put it, she was there for fifteen minutes before I arrived.”
“She managed to kick off on the tree several times, giving herself enough of a window to catch a breath. Her voice was hoarse for a month, though... Her parents wanted her institutionalized. Instead, I had daddy fight for emancipation and for her to live with us... As you can expect, I couldn’t exactly go to normal school most of my life, so I was home-schooled. She didn’t open up for over a year, and any time she started her parents would rear their fucking heads again... but then, something unexpected happened.”
She nodded, taking a drink. “They died. Carbon monoxide leak in their house... She would have been more torn up about it, but the rest of her family barred her from the funeral. Not like she cared; she had become like a sister to me... So, again, thank you.”
“I’m... starting to wonder what you are thanking me for.”
She didn’t answer, simply enjoying the last of her meal as Francis started to polish off his bottle of water –which she waited until he was finished with it before making him that second meat pocket. Before they parted, she gave him one of her “skirts”. He leaned on the bar in that blue muumuu watching her gallop back to the Academy.
“Nice girl,” he stated, and licked his lips. “Wonder if she would be in for a threes...”
He rolled his eyes. No... she wouldn’t do anything to hurt her sister. Shame, too; he could be old McDonald with his farm. Oh yes oh yes oh.