Rodrick shuffled into the cave’s mouth. Rumor was, some kobolds had entered this region. Then a report came from the rumors, so someone got bothered enough to pay for a solver. Not a trace was seen on the trip here, but forests were nothing if not easy to hide in. He toyed with the idea of the search turning up empty in his head. Collecting more coin was always nice, but a payout this easy almost felt like stealing. Members of that species settling in these parts wasn’t believable, anyway. The town had nothing to offer a band of grabby-clawed tricksters.

With how little coin found its way to this outskirt town, this region may as well have been territory only in name. It’d taken him some time to acclimate to how the residents traded in goods. Shifting to another leg, he couldn’t see kobolds struggling to forage in the forest around the town either. Nothing seemed to be coming from ahead, which either meant an empty, shallow cave, or the “doorstep” he was looking for was much further in. The notion of the latter drew a groan. Long entryways gave a lot of ground to get snagged in traps. Lighting a torch, the mercenary lifted it ahead for a slow advance, hoping the leathers he donned would be enough.

So far, it’d been uneventful except for scarce piles of rubble—which were, admittedly, appearing more often. He stopped by the next mound, crouching for a closer look. More odd materials in the pile than the usual cave stone…were these the start of traps? A measured sigh left his lips. Not so easy money now, but it would be safe to guess they hadn’t been in too long. Still, it could be long enough that at least some traps near the den proper would be finished. Deciding on some habits, he stepped close to a wall, then swung his torch down, finding nothing unusual in the stone. For the rest of this trek, he’d keep one side safe.

Hugging a wall made progress slow, but it paid off after spotting the first tripwire. A few false floors later the path twisted ahead, with faint sounds of life echoing beyond it. Rounding it led to another hallway, it seemed, with some outcrop in front flickering off his torchlight. Inching forward, he realized he hadn’t thought much about their potential numbers—the rock moved.

“S-SKIN! State ss..strespass!” The shrill tone grated, taking any hopes of stealth with it.

Before his ears could recover, its owner stepped further into the light—a kobold, alright, with a deceptively large stone club. Could they be that strong? The legs looked firm enough, and those arms were comparable for their size, but shadow still cloaked most of them. At a growing disadvantage here, with not enough information. There had been a stutter, something he could use. 

Rodrick made to raise his free hand, opting for a placating gesture, to do just that. Instead, his quarry startled, rushing with the club raised. 

“SPEAK!” 
Not anxiety. He’d miscalculated, and any of the denmates moved by the first would be running here now. His stance dropped on instinct, but the sword stayed sheathed. Terrified foes were dangerous, especially one possible freak of nature when he was already holding a torch. Five paces out of sword’s reach. Hairline trigger types should cool off just as fast…it wanted to talk, did it? If it didn’t, he had a good throwing arm.

“Hey! Yo–Wait!” he shouted, eyeing the club. It broke the charge at the second shout, skidding to a halt one pace out, but leaving the club between them. Freak of nature indeed, he mused, composing himself. “I’m just a traveler. Was thinking about holing up here for the night, got curious.”

The stone settled into a more casual grip, held across its chest. “Trahvh’l…Traa-bel…” it drawled, as if testing the word. He might’ve thought it cute, if not for the slab it waved like a toy.  “Trav’ler smells like skins. Many.” 

Better to be found chatting by their friends. Couldn’t disable a false floor like a tripwire 

He kept his breathing even. “Yeah. My travels take me to people.” The pair of yellow eyes squinted at him. It hissed. Then, the club slowly lowered to the ground, the ‘bold seemingly favoring the club as a prop instead. While the adrenaline drained, he took stock of the creature, or at least what his torch could reveal.  

Ruddy brown scales covered most of its body, except for the stretch of white that covered its underjaw, fattened over the stomach, then tapered off down the thighs. Two horns grew crookedly from the back of its head. He was certain enough on the eyes. They stood in silence. If he played this one right, the rumors could at least be confirmed to the villagers.

“So,” he started. “I clearly didn’t need to come this far for a nap, so…” Another hiss cut him off. 

“Skin **is** far,” it mused. “How?”

“I walked.” A conversation with a kobold guard just outside the heart of their den felt as awkward as he expected, even more so while trying to sell the ‘lost traveler’ act. Worse, his companion seemed entirely fine with staying here after their little exchange, which only fed the impending doom creeping up his limbs. It tilted its head and stepped aside, a tinge of…something in the new stare aimed his way.

“Trav’lr walk far. He will sleep.” It replied. Rodrick realized, with slowness, that he was receiving its expectation. Outrunning wasn’t an option with everything he’d passed, and what he’d hoped was just the crackling of his torch turned out to be the scratching of another pair of claws. Grey this time—so she was speaking to them as much as him. A smoother voice, ‘Grey’s’ if he had to bet, drawled out ahead.

“Tral-bell-r found? Not…finds?” The breathy hisses after were confusing, until Rodrick noticed that the only one in full view had its own ruddy chest heaving. Kobold laughter. At least they’d bought his harmlessness, even as an armed man. Or they had bigger weapons.

“Come come!” Grey called, walking into the light. Nothing distinctive about this one, except the pair of blue eyes looking up at him. Their horns were longer, but curled in on themselves on either side of her head in a manner much like ram horns. After getting to arms’ length, Grey upheld a palm to his torch hand, tail swishing. Figuring his cue, Rodrick handed over the torch and fell in step, now fully decided on seeing this through. With any luck, he’d come out the other side in one piece.

Uvakk brooded in front of a slipshod table, the scraps and herbs strewn about in hopes of finding inspiration. She’d been trying for weeks now, but the concoction still didn’t seem right, and these table legs couldn’t handle too many annoyed tail smacks. Working off the same base as a healing potion was still good—couldn’t have the body rejecting the final thing, though the bodies of skin-kin—man—were about as different to hers as scalekin were to boars…but all of them, skin, scale or beast, bled the same color. It had to count for something. The forest also had these ingredients in large supply, which meant she could try as much as she needed…if they weren’t caught.

Shuffling nearby drew Uvakk’s attention to today’s helper, a lanky denmate with scales one shade redder than her own, standing with her jaw ajar. She hadn’t moved since Uvakk’s first order, which was good, but the dazed expression wouldn’t pass anywhere outside a ‘tavern’ or wherever else skin-kin liked to stumble. Maybe less of that root…add more horn or scale shavings? Uvakk turned back to the table, shooting down that idea. The shavings simply linked those suggestive effects to the mind, with stronger responses if the mix fed was made with the target’s own. They couldn’t pluck from every skin though, so today’s assistant proved that the results could still be decent with material from like kin.

Still, skins stood her-kin-and-a-half in size. With only trials on her denmates, she had no idea how it might differ for the real thing. It’d be convenient if they could catch one for a little while…
For the second time, noise interrupted her—the sounds of 6 other denmates moving toward the main cavern, and ringing like Ilti’s voice coming from there. Probably because she smashed another thing with her rock, and Uvakk decided she had better things to…stare at. Looking again at her assistant’s stupor, an idea flashed to mind. 

The others knew whose turn it was on the assistant cycle anyways, so no one would be worried if she didn’t show, AND she could put this assistant to use.

“Hey,” she called to her deeper shade, “go see what this is about, and then come tell me.”

Her assistant’s eyes focused, easing into a smile. Uvakk returned it, and with a small nod, the temporary minion eased her way out of the alcove. Now alone, she spied a splotch of mud on the floor where the assistant had been standing. The potion’s proportions had been tweaked to make up for using shavings of ‘kin’ instead of ‘target’, but surely the aftereffects weren’t a concern. She willed herself to look away from the mud, opting for more fiddling at the table. Surely.

Rodrick wasn’t sure of what to do besides stand there as Grey presented him to a small crowd. He had no chance of knowing what the percussive, hissing vocalizations happening in front of him meant. Rust-brown was standing somewhere behind, probably content to watch after summoning her kin. 

Were he an oracle, perchance, he could’ve better prepared for this by finding another town. As is, he did his best to look non-threatening to the 9 or so illuminated by his torch until the bobbing flame paused near him. The cave had also gone silent. Had he missed some cue? Grey was facing him now.

“Voic-hmm…”  the kobold began, pausing. His brow furrowed. “Name?” she continued. 

So they’d go the full hospitality route. Which meant he couldn’t sneak his way out any time soon. Might as well. “Rodrick.” He puffed. From the two he just met, using any other words with his name might get him a weird nickname from the group, like Itsrod or ‘Mrick. Grey hummed.

“Rodrk. Rudd-rik. Rorr…” they continued, testing out the word in his tongue. Behind them, a cacophony rose as his audience started up among themselves. A sigh—or a hiss, for all he knew—came from behind, followed up by a thud next to him and weight on his side. The ruddy one had come to lean an arm on him. A second thump with their club quieted the others.

“I sszay…” the guard paused, making a show of tapping their chin, “Ro’rick?” Grey tilted their head one side, then the other. He hoped the scaly gears turning up there would settle on his actual name instead, but the grin Grey was sporting told Rodrick he’d already been damned. Ruddy winked up at him from his side, then stood upright.

“Ro’rick! Come, rest this way!” Grey called, now a few paces ahead with his torch. He followed her lead, figuring they were probably headed to this den’s idea of rest quarters now. A lack of club-wielder behind him gave the sense that they were alone in this passageway, so Rodrick stepped closer to his guide.

“So, was that all of your, uh, people?” he lamely began. Grey kept walking, but swung their head enough to give him a blank look. “Seems full.” he continued. 

“No, one out.” Grey chimed. “Uvakk. Always mix’n,” she sighed.

Rodrick’s eyes roamed the walls. Rumor had it that kobolds were somewhat suited to alchemy. Having one here with this group was a bit of a concern, as the surrounding forest would be nothing if not rich for ingredients. “That how the other one—the uh, club,”—he imitated hefting that rock—“ that why he’s so strong? Uvakk?” Grey started giggling, going until that scaly frame doubled over. He wasn’t sure what the joke was, but there wasn’t much choice but waiting until it stopped. Absently, he tracked the swinging loincloth facing his way, given it was the only other motion to see. Apparently, his guide had found so much humor that they couldn’t even stand, as the kobold now tipped onto the wall. The loincloth, similarly, slid out of the way.

Torches cast long shadows, but the ridge glinting on his guide looked very much like one lip of a cunt. Rodrick started to re-assess. Both Grey and Rust-brown had a certain scratchy undercurrent in their tone. Back in that chamber, he hadn’t heard anything different to those two. Could they all be? With her heaving, the light eventually caught the other lip, which reminded Rodrick that he’d been staring. He settled for a part of the wall instead, more self-conscious of the fact they were alone. What was this den?

Grey’s fit petered out.  “Haa…Vun—snkkt—No. Ilti just…higher. And like me!” she spun to face him, gesturing pointedly at her covered crotch. Though the mercenary now knew exactly what she meant, he stuck with feigning confusion. After a few seconds, she lifted a claw to one side of her loincloth.

“Uvakk?” he managed to blurt. One flash was already enough. Grey made a quizzical noise, stopped before she could spell it out to this skinfolk. It should have been obvious, after all. Rodrick, on the other hand, counted himself lucky that she couldn’t hear his pulse. Language barriers were a nightmare. He tried walking forward, but Grey chirped, waving his torch to stop him.

With her free hand, she pointed at herself, then rose two fingers in a ‘v’. They weren’t getting past this, it seemed. Looking smug, she shook his torch, lifting it until the end was over her ‘V’. He’d gotten the idea well enough, but knowing the language barrier, he kept silent. His demonstrator, on the other hand, gingerly parted her claws with his torch. Yes. Very clear now. Grey made a show of dragging the torch free, apparently satisfied, and continued walking. 

“Uvakk, Ro’rick? Want see?” she mused, slowing her pace to match his. “Drink?” After recent events, her closeness was unsettling. Rodrick peered into the darkness instead. “Sure.” he quipped, earning another hissing laugh. Anything to keep her displays out of mind. They came to a hole in the wall, which turned out to be a small chamber when Grey stepped in. On the far end, bundled leaves and grasses were stacked together to make a sort of bedding. Grey didn’t seem willing to return his torch.

With the help of its light, Rodrick made his way to the pile, unslinging his weapon before settling in. As the torch vanished around the corner, he caught a second voice, which meant that one had been following. Shortly after, another snout peeked into the doorway, the lit half showing red scales. A visitor already…he watched their outline ease into the room, making a slow beeline for him. At least they’d kept where he could see.

The visitor circled around to his side, out of the light. More shuffling, until a tail draped itself across his legs. This one was probably curious. When he didn’t move, he felt claws on his arm, gripping and prodding. Rodrick closed his eyes, resigning himself. The tail ruffled his pants while his hand got lifted near something warm—their snout, apparently, given the puffs of air on his skin. He flexed them on a whim, catching smooth ridges on his fingertips. His inspector chirped, pulling the hand away to slide their palm into his. The heat settled infront of his collarbone now, puffs along his neck sounding more breathy. 

Rodrick startled as thin wetness brushed his neck. Tasting him was a bit too far. He moved his hand till it met scale, and pushed away from himself. They hissed at first, resisting, but relented, leaving him with an uncomfortable wet patch under his neck. At arm’s length, their jaws smacked, humming. Hopefully, his skin hadn’t been discovered as a salt-lick. 

The scales pushed on his hands again, the palm on his own leaving before the other made itself known at the top of his head.  Hair seemed to be the next novelty. More sniffing, more prodding. Surprisingly, his visitor wasn’t clumsy, never quite managing to yank any strands. There also weren’t any episodes of hair-licking. Grey had made off with his torch by now, so he just had to wait for this one to tire of him. Preferably sooner than later. 


Uvakk looked up at the sound of returning footsteps. Her assistant was returning. She contemplated whether she truly needed to know more drudgery, but it was better than stading around with no ideas. Her helper’s head leaned into the room.

“Hey, ‘Vakk.” She tittered. There was a foreign smell on her. Uvakk’s interest piqued.

“You may come.” she replied. “Now, what of this meeting? Did Ilti split another rock?” Her assistant sauntered into the chamber, settling her back against a wall. “No,” she answered, resting both hands on her chest. “S-sk…ssssskin.” the assistant groaned, dragging them downward. These aftereffects would need to be addressed, but more importantly, Uvakk had exactly what she was looking for! Before getting too excited, she stepped closer to her assistant.

“What are those strands?” she asked, pointing at locks between her test subject’s claws.  

“His,” she breathed, presenting hair clumps with an open palm. Uvakk gasped. Side effects be damned, thanks to her potion she didn’t even need to fetch it herself, and it was enough for a first batch! After placing the hair aside, Uvakk spared a hug for her excellent assistant, then got to work. It wouldn’t take long, since she’d had so much practice before. The same ingredients as before, but with these strands over shavings.  Her tail swished in thought—how much should she add? Too weak of an effect would be bad, but too much might ruin later batches. She’d already mixed it stronger overall to cover the size difference. Uvakk glanced back at the assistant, who giggled. She could just have the skin-kin give her more. With that, she dumped in half the stock into the bowl and stirred, murmuring into the liquid below. It’d be ready when she could see the bottom.

Vek strolled toward Uvakk’s chamber, still carrying the skin’s flame-stick. Ilti’d quipped on the way back on ‘how long she planned to wave around a thing they didn’t need’—but she had her own rock to wave around! The skin-kin probably couldn’t see well in the dark either, so holding onto it kept their guest in one place too, even if Ilti was more than enough to do that herself. Still, Uvakk needed introducing, so she’d do one last thing before handling the stick. She turned into the alcove with familiar murmuring, lighting up two red kobolds—one peering over a bowl, and the other grinning at her from the wall. So she’d roped in Eldu this time.

“Finished?” she asked, enjoying how Uvakk startled over her bowl. Her focus made her easy to mess with. 

“Yes.” Uvakk huffed. She didn’t even bother to compose herself, instead staring back with the usual look for when she had an idea. “The skin-kin. Where is he?”

Vek looked over at Eldu’s dopey grin. “Come, Eldu,” she tried, holding out an arm. Her denmate perked up at the name, but stayed still. Uvakk spoke up, approaching her with a smaller bowl in hand.

“Failsafe. Tweaked it to handle your mischief.” She motioned to Eldu, who finally got up. “This one has it too. Where is the skin-kin?”

Vek sighed. There was no fun with Uvakk when she got like this. “I came to bring you, actually.”

“Oh?”

Vek still tried anyway. “Would you believe he mentio-” 

“Mm. Take me?” 

Uvakk was already showing off her latest potion to Eldu, who’d started patting her on the head. No getting through to her until this was over.

“Let’s go,” Vek griped.

Rodrick heard footsteps approaching, again. Couldn’t his first ‘night’ be less eventful? At least the faint light in the hallway meant at least one of them was Grey. He propped himself up. Sure enough, she’d returned with his torch, but now flanked by two reds. Was either of them the curious one from before? Grey propped the torch on a rock, then pointed at the one holding the bowl. 

“Uvakk.” Grey said, simply.  The now-named Uvakk stepped closer, ignoring Grey in favor of staring at him. The other kobold stood back, impassive, but also staring. Rodrick glanced at the bowl, then turned to Grey, pointing at it. 

“Something in that?” he asked.

“Mm.” Grey retrieved the torch, and motioned Uvakk to rest it near him. She did, after a pause, and Grey brought the flame closer for him to see. Clear liquid, though the light wouldn’t help him guess if it was also colored. “Uvakk make drink. See?” 

The maker in question shuffled in the corner of his eye, prompting him to stare conspiratorially at them. He could certainly see it was a liquid, but did kobold alchemists make ‘drinks’? The old bastard at the last guild he left certainly did. Was that language barrier at play here? He’d play it safe. 

Rodrick waved a finger between the bowl and Uvakk. “Maker, right? You first. Then all of you,” he finished, pointing at the others. 

Vek could tell Uvakk wasn’t expecting that. And while she didn’t personally want to be trying any new potions now, the look on her face was well worth it. She’d even chirped! At Uvakk’s pleading gaze, she grinned. “Go ahead,” she cooed. “You should try the thing you want to feed our skin-kin.” 

Whatever had happened, it looked like his hosts had agreed, Grey returning to more of her first demeanor. Uvakk meekly stepped over and grabbed the bowl, before koboldspeak from Grey stopped her. After a bout of dialogue between them, Uvakk kneeled, backing him to give a proper view of a good mouthful being taken. Finished, Uvakk shook with a cough before resting the bowl again. Grey made to move next, but Rodrick held up his hand, waiting for any immediate changes. 

When he felt satisfied that Uvakk wasn’t immediately dying, Rodrick dropped his arm, letting Grey take some also. She also kept her drinking in sight. Even though there was probably no need by now, he repeated the same delay for the last one. When he dropped his arm, however, it took the other two motioning (and most of Grey’s assistance) to stop the last one from chugging the entire thing. Uvakk seemed on the verge of acting, but kept flicking between them and some spot next to his bedding. 

The torch flickered from where Grey had laid it against the wall. He grabbed the bowl, swishing the liquid inside. A pleasant smell wafted up to his nose. Around him, they all reflected familiar stages of drunkenness. Maybe a part of alchemy was the liquor. Or whatever equivalent these scaled ones had for it. Maybe they’d somehow just found a bottle. Either way, there was enough left for a decent swig of his own. Well, he’d tried worse things. He brought the bowl to his mouth.

Uvakk felt like she’d been waiting an eternity for this skin-kin to bite. So when he finally drank, that meant she should feel more triumphant right now. Instead, she was more concerned with…something else. She knew calming the target was…important, but…skin-kin was right there…strong had she mixed? Had to do something. She looked at Eldu nearby. The damp spot. Had to do something. This was important. Scales down a chest. Something. Hands down her chest. Do something. The skin-kin looked different. Or was he looking at them different?

Vek whistled at the alchemist across from her. “Having fun?” she called. Uvakk seemed distracted, hearing the noise, but nothing else. Whatever this was, Vek felt she was on the last precipice of proper control. What was it ‘Vakk wanted again? Something like Eldu? Well, that red one was two potions deep, so she couldn’t count on her to be ready for when the effects hit the skin-kin. Vek tried getting on her feet, stumbling over the loincloth. Cursing, she loosened it—rotten thing itched anyway—and succeeded the second time.

‘Vakk had to be primed somehow. If she could just focus…had the potion maker’s cloth been itching her too? Uvakk had just dropped hers, looking straight at her. At least she had her full attention. Vekk tried to catch the words passing through her head on her tongue.

“You…had something. Needed the skin-kin, yes? Like Eldu…”

Rodrick was beginning to regret his suspicion, since this drink was giving him a pretty good buzz. A slow, heady burn creeping into the bones. Wasn’t sure how they made it, but he wouldn’t mind going back with a barrel of the stuff. Or four. Even the slurred around him didn’t break the buzz. In fact, it almost felt familiar. Ironic how a bit of booze could accustom any man to his surroundings—

“- - -*Vek.*”

“Huh?” Rodrick sat up, eyes blinking open. Grey and Uvakk stood away from his boots, discussing. Or, trying to from what he saw. The other red was…next to him, stretched out on the floor like he’d been. The pair noticed somewhat that he’d moved, but focused more on chatting. He listened in, figuring he’d be amused at their attempts. Drunken speak was universal. They continued in front of him, vocalizations stilting and petering off…could he tell that before?

“- - -*ething - - - Him*.” That came from Grey. There was a low pressure in his head, like new senses were leaking in.

“*Kno - - - Want to*.” Uvakk. Rodrick gripped his head. What was going on? More was bleeding in, yet he felt too calm to heave.

“V-Vek?” He breathed, looking up at the pair. Both startled, but Grey chirped, looking his way first. Was that her name? Uvakk’s eyes suddenly grew sharper, pulling their waists together. 

“*Yes, - - kin. She*, - -” Uvakk stopped, slipping into his tongue, “Vek.” Then repeated it in kobold tongue for good measure, red claws rubbing circles over…**Vek’s** lower stomach. All three had, in fact, lost their loincloths since he last checked. The torchlight picked up visible gleams between each of their legs. Uvakk guided Vek to stand over his legs, hand teasing all the while. Vek’s claws hadn’t left her chest from when he first called her, not even acknowledging the kobold leading her on. 

Uvakk released Vek, circling around to duck her snout just under the first pair of lips he’d seen in this den. This also granted him a view of her underside, side lit by the torch. Uvakk slipped a claw inside her own. “*Skin - -* ,” she began, squeezing his leg, “*need - - -* .”  More seeping in. Meaning. Tone. Rodrick recalled a time he’d gone swimming—dove, turned around and watched the surface approach. Uvakk moaned, digit rocking between her legs. The water sounded like her. Or was she above it? Another bout of speech pulled at his back—now, just under the surface.

The third kobold had eased her arms around him from behind, searching, but the man didn’t have the mind to notice. Vek’s legs passed under Rodrick’s palms, tracing the entire length, then slowing to study the fade from blocky scales to finery up her body. Vek stood tall enough for her cunt to fill his vision sitting up,  and he found himself watching with interest at how many drops this touching could coax from her. 

Something pulled free from his midsection, getting tossed aside. The clink it made faintly registered as his belt, but the telltale sheen of another droplet awaited. Rodrick stuck out his tongue, fancying a taste before another drop could go to waste.

“- -*ait*,” came Uvakk’s voice from beneath. Rodrick realized that he’d paused. He leaned back just enough to meet her gaze. Her red snout glistened with her denmate’s output. Something within screamed she’d definitely be next. 

“*I—haaah—take these…off*,” she panted, leaning back from Vek to pull at his trousers. Her new position was almost fully reversed from being bent over, which meant her entrance was among the closest things to view now.  The hand she’d been fingering herself with stayed put, creating a much more lurid display than before in the shadows.

Rodrick’s hands found his pants. The one behind him had gotten pretty far with the undressing attempts, so he lifted his butt. The free pair of arms scrambled to join Uvakk arm in pulling them down to his thighs. That just left his undergarment, which one claw was already cutting a hole into. The other red had rushed back to his crotch, already fishing his cock out. A part of him noted a familiar feeling, but that was promptly replaced by furious lashes of her tongue. 

Rodrick reflexively thrusted. His moan was matched by an equally needy hiss from the one servicing him. He’d had plenty of time to work up precum, and she kept giving his head 3 passes each trip to ensure she coaxed all each time. If he could see straight, he’d grab her, but settled for the bedding instead. The climax she threatened to bring made him wheeze, but mercifully, her attentions slowed. At the sounds of motion, he blinked bleary eyes to see Vek staring back, kneeling, snout right in front of his cock. Uvakk slid in on his right, stretching his underwear to nose at his sack.

The first one now leaned in from the left, lazily pulling the coil of her tongue up and down his shaft. 3 hands he couldn’t see, and 3 very loud sets of schlik-ing. Uvakk found his base, snorted deep, and moaned. Other red’s coil squeezed his cock. Vek’s mouth opened, sending her tongue to swirl his glans. Thus began his final grind to the peak. Uvakk started coating his balls in her spittle, while the other red leaned in, panting hot breath on his shaft. Vekk broke the swirling with heavy licks across the tip, the coil on his shaft squeezing to hold it still. 

He couldn’t take looking into those eyes much longer.

“Mmh,” Uvakk garbled against his sack, “- - *seeed, - - - us. **Give it to me*.*”

Her sigh against his twitching sack barely registered over the orgasm rolling through him. Vek widened her jaws, catching many of the spurts, then pressed her tongue tip over his urethra. It split every other shot sideways onto the other two, who answered each with moans of their own. There was more to give than he thought. 

Rodrick fell back into his bedding, but the attention continued.

(to be finished later (TM))