NSFW erotica

“Your neighbor suggested I come see you for a commission.” I ducked into the smithy. The man caught me off guard as I tried to figure out what he was, because he clearly wasn’t Yujin, Karamide, Rugoshi, or Twilig. I’d have to ask someone later. He had floppy fluffy ears and a fine nap of tawny and white fur. Burn scars across his arms had left a constellation of hairless spots in his hide.

“Jhan sent you?” The man’s voice was incredibly deep and intimidating.

“Yes, sir.” I gulped.

He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I-um…”

He pointed to his ears. “Never saw a Yujin droop their spars before other than the little ones.”

“Droop?” I was still at a loss. The man was built like a grizzly bear when he stood up from his bench where he had been polishing a set of wide disks.

He cocked his head at my confusion. “Probably shouldn’t say it to some noble, but ya’ll don’t let yer ears show yer emotions. Get it trained out of ya.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Just interestin’ ta see. Name’s Kwin. How can I be of service?”

“Hi. Name’s Tanwyn. I, well. This feels really awkward to try to explain.” I shifted on my feet. The apothecary had understood, but I had been asking for different things. This one felt bad. My gut clenched, acid bubbling up the back of my throat. Kwin waited patiently as I tried to sort my thoughts. “Alright, um. So. I have a pair of traveling companions. Rugoshi and Karamide.”

Kwin nodded once and folded his arms, making his chest larger than needed. The guy could level me in one hit with his fists the size of a large ham. Thick canvas pants meant to protect him from hot metal left little to the imagination of just how built this guy was. An image of being curb stomped came to mind.

The chain in my ear clicked against one of the other dangles. In the same way as being cognizant of my own breathing, I was now keenly aware that my ears were pulled down like a dog begging. Nausea and a fine sweat were both building. “I’d like to emphasize companions. Not slaves. Please believe me not slaves.”

Kwins eyelids lowered to half as he nodded once.

“They want to use the Findou roads to get to the other side. My Rugoshi friend wants to go home to Kawl. He doesn’t want to travel through Tay.” My whole body was going numb and warm at once, the type of reaction I had before I would faint.

“Can’t fault him not wanting to go through Tay. Wouldn’t want to chance Findou either,” Kwin offered.

His sentiment anchored me. “I asked for Jhan’s opinion. He’s been helping me for a couple of days while they…” I couldn’t meet his eyes as I suddenly was left at a loss on if it was appropriate to mention seasons to people at random.

Kwin frowned and gave another sage nod. “Gotcha. What’s Jhan got ya commissioning? Need a cage? I’ve got a few in stock, but if you need it to measure, it’d probably be good to bring ‘em in after they get back to normal.”

“Uh, well, no, but helpful to know. I don’t like it. But Jhan told me to commission collars. Said it’d be safer for them to go through Findou acting as my-my-my-” The nausea bubbled up into that disgusting type of heartburn vomit that ends up going no further than the uvula.

He regarded me quietly for a second, then shrugged. “I’ve made my fair share working in Findou for a time. Haven’t taken a commission here for them. Got their papers?” he asked.

“They aren’t slaves! I don’t have papers,” I protested quickly.

He squinted at me, his gaze flicking to my dangles, then to my face, and my clothing. “Not slaves?”

I shook my head vigorously. “No. Absolutely not.”

“That’d be a problem then.”

“That’s what Jhan said. He said it would be dangerous for them to go through Findou.”

Kwin frowned. “I can’t take a collar commission without their papers. It’s part of processing for the contract.”

An edge fo relief gave way to another round of panic. “What do I do?”

“Might see the tanner for some leather. Say you’re getting collars made for a tindar. That’d be about the right size. I can sell you loops and buckles, but it’d be on you to make the rest of it,” he suggested.

“But leather would count enough? Collar doesn’t have to be metal to keep them safe?” I hoped.

He shrugged. “Seen a variety. Different materials designate value. Leather would put them pretty low in the slave market. Manual laborers is who they’re for usually. They might still get harassed. It’d be better to have iron, but if I got found making a collar without guild registered papers, I could find myself in a collar myself.”

“No, don’t. It’s okay. I didn’t know. I was raised very sheltered, so I don’t know much about the market. My family didn’t own,” at least my human family hadn’t, so it wasn’t entirely a lie, “What is the difference in hierarchy? Like, would a silver or gold loop raise the value enough to keep people from harassing them?” I ventured.

“Not really. And we don’t have a jeweler to do that kind of fancy detail work. A leather collar is the lowest type. Next up would be a basic iron piece, something I could do to measure in a day. Next up would be precious metals, but that would be going to a jeweler, and the next one I know who would be able to do something so large would be in Blij itself. That’s another two weeks on foot from here. That’s chancing about four villages to get through.”

“But silver or gold would do the trick?”

Kwin returned to his desk to continue polishing, recognizing he wasn’t getting hired today. “Silver would be for house staff or some miliatry. Gold would be for a personal valet, bodyguard, or bloemenmaan.”

“Is platinum an option?” I thought of the two coins I had no way of splitting.

Kwin scoffed. “That’s an expensive collar that most regular folk would just think was silver. I wouldn’t waste the clink on something like that.”

“Gemstones?”

“Up to the owner. Some put them in. More often you’ll see engravings for the precious metals. It’s not something I would bother with for iron.”

“But the gems don’t have a meaning like the type of metal does?”

Kwin shurgged. “Maybe in different countries. It wasn’t popular in the area of Findou I come out of. Most slaves were mill workers. Only ever saw a handful of precious metal collars. Did a paultry business in iron collars. Found it more worth working on livestock harness tack. I do remember a house of Findou was rumored to put in an enameled crest in the back of their slaves’ collars so that it was obvious who they belonged to, but that was because that house had a lot.”

An idea was formulating in my head. I chewed on my lip as I nodded. “Alright. I think I’ve got an idea. Where’s the tanner?”

“Yeve is down at the end of the main street. When you get there, turn left and follow the yellow arrow down toward the stream. You’ll smell it before you get there.”

“Thank you for the advice.” I made to leave. Kwin raised an eyebrow at my gratitude and waved me out of his shop.

It was less awkward talking to the tanner than going in to talk with the blacksmith. The tanner had a small front shop where I was able to look through hides marked for sale before he showed up. I found a fur faced leather with golden curls that seemed pliable and soft enough for my purpose. When the tanner finally showed up, a Yujin named Yeve, he wasn’t much of a man for chatting. He quickly cut out a pair of rectangles for me from the hide I selected. I paid him his three copper, took my bundle, and trudged back up the hill to the main road.

I grabbed a meat pie from a Rugoshi woman with a stripe across her cheek. I didn’t want to go back to the inn quite yet. My hope was that Rowan and Farrow were still asleep. I needed a break for another couple of minutes. If I went back now, I would forget to eat again, and I couldn’t keep doing that. Scarfing the pie, I hid my ears beneath my travel cloak and watched the restaurant owner talk to a pair of Rugoshi men in Herenhuis livery talk in a language I didn’t recognize. I had to wonder if it was something Rowan knew. All three had a light reddish brown stripe that ran from ear to ear and over the bride of their nose about the thickness of the tip of my pinky. It was such an odd bit of makeup. Rowan didn’t wear it.

Pondering the fashion statement, I dragged myself back to the inn with hopes of finding a bit of relief and balance. I couldn’t quite find a way to comfortably give myself permission to lock myself away into my own room. I had, when washing out the cloaks, buying food, and bringing up drinking water, locked Farrow and Rowan into their room like they had wished. It made me antsy, though, the fear of a fire breaking out and trapping them ever present in my head. I couldn’t place where that particular fear was coming from other than my impression that medieval buildings were liable to go up in smoke.

The level of painful need I found myself riding the waves of was all consuming and exhausting every time I had to return to them. I just needed a minute. A minute in a dark corner to get myself centered back into my body. But the nagging guilt of locking them away when that felt like such a hazard kept me from relaxing enough to fix my every present issue. Talking to the apothecary, then the blacksmith, then the tanner was the only distraction of my days where my focus moved from cleaning to trying to keep Farrow and Rowan safe on our travels, rather than in the inn.

I found myself back in the corner of their room every time I tried to wander away, watching over them as they found their ways around each other, and I slowly became numb to it. By the evening of the fifth day, they had fallen asleep enough for me to wipe down the room once more and burn the rags. I needed sleep. And relief. And maybe a tonic for the headache. Watching them both fall to this hedonistic, all consuming euphoria, seasons reached into what I could only qualify as horrifying. Eight of the nine intelligent humanoid groups in this world suffered this, and Yujin were benefitting from the system by not having to contend with it. No wonder Wallace’s dad was getting closer and closer to establishing an Imperial throne if he could just time his taking over of a fortress here, a city there, when large groupings of the population would be falling into this state.

The idea of a a necromantic military was making more and more sense to me every time I cleaned up yet another puddle of cum. Skeletons couldn’t get boners, and didn’t have to worry about all of this.

“Death?” I asked the dark room where Rowan and Farrow held each other in the firelight. I didn’t expect an answer. But I dearly wanted the nothingness to come to me in that moment. To have someone to talk too.

“I’ve been thinking about your sprits, Death. And why you came to me in the castle. I don’t understand it. But I have questions. So many questions. You wanted something from me. But you aren’t here. What is it that you want for me to do? You knew of Skull Hart, one of those legendary people that Rowan talks about, right? Did you ever talk to him? I wish I could talk to him. Maybe he could explain what it is to command and lay to rest the undead. Can I even do right by the dead? If they rise up with anger, does that mean that their soul is still attached to their bones? Am I causing them pain if I call to them, or force them to obey me? Am I just as evil as those men who bind other people to them? Is necormancy evil? I could really do with a friend who could answer my questions.” I muttered, watching Rowan’s tongue sweep across Farrow’s peaked nipple. Farrow’s nails dug into Rowan’s bicep as he groaned.

I buried my burning eyes into my arm. I just wanted sleep. I wanted to stop seeing dead bodies when I closed my eyes and bodies in the throws of passion when I opened them. I just wanted to go back to that dark cliff and stare at the sea of stars. There everything was calm. I didn’t have to understand this new world and how it worked. I could just sit in silence and watch the ripples.

“How do you even plan on being a Demon Lord if you can’t control this, Rowan?” I whispered into my sleeve. “I just want to go home.”

I woke to the deep dark that comes after midnight and before dawn. My neck was giving me a headache, and my lower back cried in protest when I shifted. The two had moved up to one of the beds. Rowan had Farrow sitting on him and pinned against the wall. I shook my head as I let all of my vertebra pop. “And you complain about dancers.” I hissed a little louder than I meant, but the two were too lost in each other to pay me any attention. Rowan’s fingers were creating magic in Farrow, who was close if I was getting used to his types of breathy responses.

“If I didn’t fear for your health and safety, I’d go sleep in Ravur’s stall.” I grouched and finally got all of my joints to stop popping with each movement. I had already given back my room to the inn for a return on a couple of clink. There was no way I was going to trust leaving these two alone. They hadn’t done anthing dangerous. It was purely for my own anxiety.

“Talked more with the apothecary today.” This wasn’t the first time I had talked to the two of them in the last couple of days with no impression that they would realize it. “Then the blacksmith, and the tanner. I might just have a way to get your safely through Findou. I hope. Please let this be the right decision.”

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