To Desire a Dragon: (a.k.a. DRAGON HOOKER) (Venys Needs Men) by Amanda Milo

Author:Amanda Milo [Milo, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

HALKI

When all of Nalle’s regular chores are done, she looks drawn. Even exhausted though, she is determined to see to her duties, and I admire her fortitude. By the time she allows herself to call this day done, she leads me to a latrine pit, a sandy little outbuilding set away from her clan’s camp center. I follow her in, which seems to unnerve her at first, but then she disappears behind a half wall, crouching down, and I turn around to relieve myself against the pit’s wall. It’s an entirely surprising venture. I no longer have a cloaca that releases an excretory chalk smear fit for marking territory corners.

Instead, I find firsthand that a human male’s sexual organ is also their excretory assistant, like an animal. How unconventional. It is long and wieldy and when I attempt to relieve myself, I spray water down my own leg. I have to grasp the rather sensitive handle and aim it so that I’m not spraying on myself.

The scent is pleasantly strong though. This will do well enough for marking. However, I now have concerns about what will happen once my meal is digested. If I’m passing only liquid here, what will happen to matter that I’ve digested? How does that exit?

“Are we peeing together?” Nalle asks, her voice sounding oddly strained.

“Now that I have the hang of this, seems we are.”

Nalle makes an almost choked noise, but when I glance over my shoulder in her direction, she orders me not to look at her.

“I can barely see you above the partition.”

“Don’t look at me at all!”

Shaking my head at the strangeness of my new mate, I do as she orders and face my own business.

Finally, my water reserves seem to have reached an end. I shake my organ to rid it of drips, and enjoy the sensation of my organ being stretched and bounced. Ha! How do male humans get anything done? I could almost play with this all day. For being an open-air organ, it has a distracting amount of nerves and pleasantly receives the slightest stimulation.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nalle asks from behind me.

I turn, still holding my organ behind the too-sensitive cap. “Watch this flail. The length is ridiculous—here, why don’t you try it?”

“What? No!” Nalle is standing, hands on her hips, brows drawn in, lips sucked between her teeth right up until I make my offer.

Then she’s trying to retreat from me.

“Come here and take hold of it,” I tell in exasperation. “It’s not going to bite.”

“I’m not going to touch it!”

From outside the latrine, one of her clanswomen calls loudly, “Then send him out and I’ll touch it, you greedy cock socket!”

Nalle’s spine straightens and she growls, “Back off, you she-jackal!” to whomever spoke.

I’ve reached her and because she was rebuking her friend, she must not have noticed my approach because when I bump her arm with my organ, she squeals.

“Do you need help in there?” another one of her clanswomen calls.

Yet another woman adds, “I’m volunteering too.

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