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Trials In Tainted Space. Myr Commander Myrellion. Text Base Game. Reply Myr Commander Myrellion. Dark The Dragon King Administrator. This particular road is paved with hundreds upon thousands of glittering crystals of all shapes and sizes, fitted together with almost perfect precision, presenting a smooth unbroken face. Some kind of exotic jade mortar pins them all together and prevents you from snagging yourself a shiny souvenir. A side road splits off towards the east where a of weapon-wieldings soldiers have set up a checkpoint.
It would seem they have you mistaken for someone else Surely whatever sort of entertainment they have planned for your beast-dick must be enjoyable. What more could you ask for? A few minutes at a quick pace has you closing in on their barracks - a solid concrete structure deed more for defensibility than aesthetics. The squat doorway is hauled open, and you are lead inside by the golden officer, backed up by the column of grinning soldiers.
Just how many barracks like this do the gold myr have? And if the golds have s like this, then the reds Two hands roughly grab you by the crotch, openly fondling your rapidly engorging penis, disarming your mind as effectively as their fellows disarm your body. In the span of seconds, you are stripped naked, but the warmth of the room and the hands in your loins keeps the chill from bothering you.
She s her sisters in stroking you.
You let yourself be lead, escorted by chitinous hands and sensuously rubbing fingers. They gradually drag you to the center of the chamber. The journey must take several minutes, but to you, it feels like no more than a few throbbing heartbeats. An upraised slab of stone is clearly your destination, judging by the mattress placed in the center, ringed by thick, wooden poles.
As you lower yourself down, laying out on the flat of your back, you grab hold of the poles to steady your progress. It is then that you ascertain their true, all-too-sexual nature, for they are made with veins and bulges, bulbous tips and nearly-testicular swells. Beyond the phallic pillars is a wall of panting, horny myr soldiers, dribbling honey from behind as they stare at your nude, eager form. Your knotted tool sticks straight up, a fleshy alternative to the impassive wooden boners that surround it, all too happy to offer itself for use as another toy. It would seem your body cares less for your dignity than the promise of a golden, honey-laced myr-cunt.
You look around you, realizing that the soldiers have formed lines behind each of the twelve posts. They leer down at you, barely restraining themselves from taking you on the spot. How can we not? Very well. Ithris, Borea, Mystryn, Haedin, and Phorah. No fighting over our guest. Some unspoken al goes through the horde of armored ant-girls, and as the first lucky lady steps over you, a dozen of trials in tainted space myrellion aroused ant-girls advance.
Another, exponentially more decadent sound fills the air but a second later: all twelve of the eager myr maidens mounting their substitute members. Some do it from behind, facing away from you as they watch you being taken. Others face forward, pressing their breasts against one another, shading you beneath a quartet of sapphic kisses. Moans fill the air, and you feel the first flecks of honey spattering against your skin.
You knew Gildenmere had a mostly female army, but you had no idea how horny intensive training would leave them - how it would make them so wet and ready that their quivering snatches would be dribbling honey, dumping out little micro-squirts from the mere sight of a penis-packing star-walker.
Clamping down on you, the gilded slattern transforms her tunnel into a constricting vise, tight enough to bring the friction of flesh-to-flesh contact back to the fore. No amount of dribbling, girlish honey could make you ignore the texture of her folds, nor the way her muscles contract in different batches, squeezing you from above and below, then from the sides. Honey showers over you, splattering over every part of your supine body. You lick flecks of it from your lips - and, noting looks of approval from the gallery - gather more to drink, making a show of sucking the amber juices from your fingertips.
Arousal-bloated lips part around your questing fingers as you hear the sounds of exhausted girls being pulled from the poles - only to be replaced with fresh troops eager to reduce themselves to simpering tarts. You let yourself groan. Not while scores of women moan and writhe, juicing and fondling themselves over the thought of a chance at your dick.
How could you? She screams, thrashing and jiggling, oozing more honey from her bronzed nipples in the moment of her orgasm. Clamping down hard, her walls caress your pointed prick, lavishing it in orgasmic attentions even as her honey drenches your crotch, soaking your balls in syrupy goodness. You answer with another grunt, swallowing the mouthful of honey your tongue had gathered in order to properly vocalize your pleasure. Rather than resist, you let yourself be brought to that heavenly state, marveling at the raw display of glistening, sweat-drenched femininity all around you.
Glossy, smooth buttcheeks tremble. Pussy-bearing abdomens bounce and wobble. Pert, orangish-gold breasts gently bounce against suckling onyx lips. Everywhere there is nothing but fucking, nothing but rutting, a symphony of sensuous pleasure enveloping your trials in tainted space myrellion from head to nose to dick to toes.
You think it might be too much when an adventurous private turns to place her pussy atop your head, utterly enveloping you from chin to the bridge of your nose, but then you find yourself cumming, orgasming to the sight and scent of a hot wet box pressing on your face, needfully demanding your tongue slip inside. You do, of course.
What else could you do but lick and cum Your whole world is amber, a fine coating of it from head to toe, laden with pheromones and sweetness. Your cock is swaddled in it, jerking and spurting, firing cum to the tempo set by your gilded mistresses. When she tries to climb off, she catches on your knot, and in a moment of panic, thrashes and tugs, violently trying to climb off.
The swollen bulb of flesh holds her perfectly to your crotch, and her struggles only rekindle your fading passion, ensuring you pump another few squirts of love into her vestigial womb.
Finally spent, you let your tongue fall limp. Maybe in a few minutes. Instead, you turn your head to the side and pant, letting the recruit slide herself across your cheek. What do my fine soldiers think? Briefly, you make an effort not to swallow, but it just leaves your mouth feeling like one of those needfully dripping pussies, so hollow and aching for sensation.
You swallow, feeling your prick instantly leap back to full hardness, feeling warmth course through your body, buzzing in your fingers and toes. Everything feels so good too. Is this how a galotian feels all the time? Gooey and good, like any part of your body could become the most sensuous thing in the world trials in tainted space myrellion a nanosecond?
You moan like a slut, not caring at all how it sounds to the assembled myr. It feels You bite your lip and leak, squirming while the next myr in line mounts you. The girls on poles go into a frenzy at the sight of your excessively eager behavior.
At least two of them cum, gushing honey everywhere. It sprays out like water from a firehose, drenching you. Thick blobs of it roll down your side, puddling on the mattress and the slab below. Only now can you appreciate how this place had such a sweet smell when you arrived, no matter how well-cleaned it had been.
The stone itself is impregnated with girl-musk, forever attuned to the scent of drizzling myr-puss. Ten centuries from now, you have no doubt that this room will still smell like fucking. Waggling your tongue at the commander, you all but beg her to mount your face. She pushes the private back on you instead, watching with a sneering expression that does a poor job of hiding her intrigue.
One cunt is as delicious as another. Right now, your puppy-prick feels harder than armor plating, but surely your endless desire will fade later.
And then pussy is wrapping around you once more, dissolving your perceptions in its soppy-wet darkness, consuming you with the delightful flutters of his hot folds. Her breasts are a touch bigger than your user, and they bounce and ripple enticingly with every greedy gyration of her otherwise muscular body.
She glistens and twists, revealing herself for the engine of sexual gratification that she is, feeding and giving bliss in equal measure.Trials in tainted space myrellion
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