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I’m sitting in the nest with my knees arched, and she scoots back against me with her rear pressed to my hip and her body tilted against my chest. I wrap both arms around her and thank the Bone-Builder for every bit of her skin that touches mine.
“It’s a living storm, threaded with strange magic,” I murmur against her hair.
“Yes, they mentioned that in school,” says Serylla. “I wish I’d paid better attention, though.”
“We have a long poem about it among our historical orations.”
“Recite it for me.”
“Unfortunately I don’t remember it well. I didn’t always pay attention to my instructors, either.”
She giggles. It’s a sweet, soft, feminine sound, and my cock jumps. I can’t help tensing at the hot rush of blood through its length.
Serylla twists and looks down between my legs. “Do you want some pants? I chose a few things for you, from Thelise’s stash.”
I don’t want pants. I want to bend her over onto her hands and knees and push this new cock of mine inside her.
Did I want to fuck her that first day, when I saw her standing on the wall, aiming the crossbow at me? I think perhaps I did, though I wouldn’t let myself admit it.
“I should have some pants,” I grit out. “Yes.”
Serylla tilts her head, with the mischievous half-smile I’ve come to adore. “First, a lesson.”
“A lesson?” I can barely manage the words.
“If you’re going to be a man, with all a man’s desires, you should know how to handle them on your own when you need to. How to give yourself relief. You remember what I did for you, back at the hot springs?”
I swallow as my cock bobs again. “Yes.”
“This time I’m not going to touch you. You’re going to do everything yourself.”
Whatever blood isn’t throbbing in my cock rushes up to my cheeks.
I’ve touched my genitals since I first shifted, of course. I inspected my cock carefully, and I’ve used it to piss. But I didn’t really think of it in this context, didn’t realize what it meant, that I can touch myself like humans do. It means that if I have the inclination, the desire, I can pleasure myself whenever I want. Essentially, I am now my own source of sensual entertainment.
And that opens up a whole new realm of possibilities.
Serylla tugs at her plump lower lip with her teeth and winks at me. “Open your legs a bit wider.”
With my heart pounding as loudly as the rain, I obey.
“Now put your hand around your cock, right at the base.”
It feels good, warming my sensitive length with my fingers.
“Move your hand up, keeping it wrapped around your cock. It should be tight enough, but don’t squeeze. Slide it up, then down. If you want things to be a bit more slippery, you can use some of your precum, that liquid beading there, at the tip. Spread it around.”
I examine the tiny slit that’s oozing clear liquid. Slowly I rub it over my cock head and my shaft until both are glossy and slippery.
“How does it feel?” The Princess sounds a little breathless.
“It feels good,” I murmur. But when I look up at her, everything I’m doing suddenly feels not simply good, but exquisite.
Her face is flushed, her eyes starry. The low neckline of the simple white dress shows a generous amount of her breasts. Her fingers are tucked between her thighs, pinning the material there as if she’s trying to stifle the sensations in that delicate place.
She was in control of this a moment ago. But not anymore.
With a half-smile of my own, I speak to her in my deepest voice. “How does it feel for you, Princess?”
