I walked through the city trying to take stock of my actual situation.

  I had stolen trousers, a goblin club with a complicated history, and a magical cock ring that had given me a horse dick. It also helped make me a Vitalist. My skills were Dick Sp, Cum Shot, Cumbalm, and Morning Dew. My combat experience consisted of beating a goblin unconscious with my own cock and shooting a wolf in the chest with cum so hard it died.

  I was thinking about career options.

  The honest inventory was this: everything useful I could do right now involved my dick in some capacity. The healing, the combat, the charge system, the enhanced physique that scaled with how recently I'd topped off — all of it ran through the ring and the ring ran through what was currently swinging loose and comfortable in my stolen linen trousers. I was a nineteen year old Vitalist Sex Mage in a fantasy city with no money, no food, and a skill set that was specific.

  I'd fucked a goblin, I reasoned. I'd folded myself in half and sucked my own dick for breakfast three mornings in a row. I'd beaten a wolf to death with a Cum Shot and eaten my own cum to stave off hunger and considered all of it completely reasonable under the circumstances.

  One night as a prostitute didn't seem like the worst thing I'd ever done. It didn't even crack the top five things I'd done this week.

  Besides, I could heal myself with my own pre-cum if I caught anything. The medical coverage was genuinely better than most.

  I found the brothel by following the logic of city geography. The nicer taverns gave way to slightly less nice establishments. The kind clustered near streets with softer lighting, and women and men in doorways. The particur ambient noise of a pce where commerce of a specific kind was being conducted. The building I settled on had a discreet sign I couldn't read and a clean front entrance and the general presentation of somewhere that had standards even if those standards were flexible.

  I pushed the door open.

  The woman at the front desk looked up from whatever she was writing with the professional assessment of someone who processed people for a living. She was middle aged and sharp eyed and looked me over from head to boots and back up again in about two seconds.

  "Looking for company or offering it?" she said.

  I hadn't expected the question to come that fast. "Offering," I said. "I need food tonight and a pce to sleep. I'm willing to work for it. Food first, please."

  She looked at me with an expression that was doing a lot of calcution behind very neutral eyes. "You're not from here."

  "No."

  "Experience?"

  I thought about the goblin. "Some," I said.

  She looked at me for another moment and then she said "Show me what you're working with then. I don't take on staff blind."

  I held her gaze for a second. Then I undid my belt, opened the front of my trousers, and let everything out into the mplight.

  My cock flopped out soft and heavy, six inches of fccid horse dick swinging loose, the wide fred head catching the warm light of the room. I held her eyes for a moment and then looked down at myself and gave my hips a light shake, just enough to get it moving, the weight of it bouncing slowly.

  The woman looked at my cock for a long moment with the focused professional attention of someone reviewing a resume.

  "Perfect," she said.

  She came around the desk and led me toward the back of the building with the efficiency of someone who had found what she was looking for and had a schedule to maintain.

  The food arrived in the back room on a tray and I sat down in front of it and ate with an intensity that I can only describe as religious. Bread, actual bread, something that had been roasted and something in a bowl with a spoon. I worked through all of it with the focused gratitude of someone who had been subsisting on their own cum and forest berries for three days. It was warm and solid and it sat in my stomach comfortably.

  Mana from heaven, I thought, absolutely seriously.

  Though somewhere in the back of my mind, as I was cleaning the st of the bowl with a piece of bread, I had a brief involuntary thought about what this would taste like with Morning Dew sprinkled over it, warm and luminescent, that faint sweetness mixed with actual food. The thought was so specific that I had to set the bread down for a second and examine whether the ring was doing that or whether that was entirely me.

  The answer was probably both and I ate the rest of the bread.

  The room they led me to was clean. A proper bed, a chair, a small table with a mp. Simple and functional. I'd been instructed to wait naked in the chair by the bed, which I did, my cock resting soft and heavy across my thigh in the warm mplight.

  I heard footsteps in the hall and then the door opened.

  He was roughly my age. Slim, very pale, light skin that had probably never seen much sun, dressed in the kind of clothes that cost money. Fine fabric, good tailoring, the overall presentation of someone from a family that didn't worry about the bill. He had a pleasant face and the slightly self-conscious energy of someone who had done this before but not so many times that it was entirely routine.

  He stepped into the room and saw me sitting in the chair and his eyes went immediately and directly to my cock lying soft across my thigh and stayed there. His expression went through several rapid phases.

  "I, um," he said. "I'm not sure I can take that whole thing."

  "My name's Jack," I said. "Pleased to meet you."

  He blinked at me. Then ughed, a short surprised ugh that rexed something in his posture. "I didn't expect that."

  "What were you expecting?"

  "I'm not sure." He was still looking at my cock with the particur attention of someone trying to solve a spatial problem. "It's. That's quite something."

  "It gets bigger," I said helpfully.

  He looked up at me with an expression that was somewhere between armed and intrigued. "How much?"

  "Quite a bit more," I said. "But let's see what you can take. And maybe you can give me some too." That was definitely the ring. I think.

  That nded well. His mouth curved and he started on his jacket buttons without further negotiation.

  He had a good body under the fancy clothes, lean and pale all the way down, and when he stepped out of his trousers he was soft but interested, average length, and I reached over from the chair and wrapped my hand around him before I'd fully decided to, just took him in my fist and stroked him up to full hardness with the direct efficiency of someone who knew what they were doing.

  I briefly wondered whether that forwardness was the ring or just me.

  The answer was probably both. I leaned forward an licked the tip of his cock, just the tip, a slow single pass, and felt him shiver.

  We spent some time on the bed after that, his hands moving over me, getting acquainted with my body. When he wrapped his hand around my cock -- fully hard now, twelve inches of horse dick warm and heavy, leaking Morning Dew in a slow luminescent thread — he made a low appreciative sound and gave it several slow experimental tugs, testing the weight of it.

  "What a marvelous member," he said, with complete sincerity, like he was reviewing something exceptional.

  "Thanks," I said. "I'm attached to it."

  He looked up at me and something in his expression settled into a decision. "I want to see if it fits," he said.

  He pushed me back against the bed and straddled my hips and I watched him reach down and take my cock in his hand and rub the wide fred tip against his own ass, gathering the Morning Dew that was running freely from my tip and working it around himself with slow deliberate circles. The Morning Dew did what Morning Dew did, warmth spreading at every point of contact, his breathing changing as the healing and sensitizing properties worked into him, making everything more receptive, everything more ready.

  He pressed down.

  The pop when the wide fred head seated inside him was audible and he threw his head back and made a sound that was not a small sound.

  "My god," he breathed. "That's a stretch."

  He stayed very still for a moment, adjusting, his hands braced on my stomach, his whole body recalibrating around the intrusion. Then he started moving, slow, working himself down in careful increments. I watched his face as he did it — the concentration, the effort, the specific expression of someone navigating something significantly rger than their usual experience.

  He got three inches in and stopped.

  He seemed to be having a genuinely good time with three inches. His cock was hard and flushed and leaking, bouncing with each small movement, and his sounds had become a continuous quiet commentary of effort and pleasure that filled the mplit room. The ring was drinking charge from the encounter steadily, that distinct warm quality of another person's contribution sitting alongside my own, and the passive enhancement was running at full strength and the combination of everything was making it difficult to think clearly about anything.

  His cock started shooting before he announced it.

  No warning, no escation, just his body making a uniteral decision and committing to it fully. Ropes of cum nding across my stomach in several long pulses while he gripped my hips and made a series of sounds that were probably audible in the hallway. He shuddered through it and then sat there on three inches of my cock breathing hard and looking wrecked in the best possible way.

  I looked down at the mess on my stomach.

  I rubbed two fingers through it and brought them to my mouth and licked them clean.

  The taste was different from my own. Salt, but different salt, a different underlying note, distinctly someone else's. The ring absorbed it differently too, that same distinct quality of external charge sitting warm and separate from my baseline.

  Now I'm eating someone else's cum, I thought. Wow. I really am a pervert.

  I felt no particur distress about this.

  He lifted himself off my cock carefully, the exit producing a sound that made him ugh breathlessly, and I pulled him forward by the hip before he could reorganize himself and took his cock in my mouth and licked him clean, thorough and slow, tasting him and the Morning Dew residue that had transferred during proceedings and the combination of everything and the ring humming warm and satisfied at my base.

  He made a sound above me that suggested this had not been expected and was extremely welcome.

  I released him and looked up. "Fuck me," I said.

  He looked at me for a moment with those pale eyes. Then he smiled, slow and genuine, and said "Gdly."

  I rolled over onto my stomach and reached back and found my own cock pointing back toward my feet and gathered the Morning Dew from my tip in my palm, working it back between my cheeks and against my asshole with practiced efficiency, opening myself up the way three days of dedicated practice had taught me to do, the familiar warmth of my own Morning Dew spreading and sensitizing and preparing. I worked two fingers in briefly and the ring pulsed with approval and I pulled them out and looked back over my shoulder.

  He was kneeling behind me, hard again already, which said something about either his recovery time or the effect of watching what I'd just done.

  He pressed in.

  Even after everything — after the club, after three mornings folded in half, after all of it — the sensation of another actual person's cock inside me was different in a way that I wasn't prepared for. Warmer somehow. More present. The ring went immediately and absolutely to work amplifying every point of contact and the charge from the encounter flooded in and I pressed my face into the mattress and made a sound that I would normally have been embarrassed about.

  He wasn't tentative about it. He found his rhythm fast, his hands gripping my hips, and began to pound my ass with the focused enthusiasm of someone who had found something that worked and was fully committed to it. The headboard moved. The mp flickered. The sounds I was making became less controlled with each thrust and the ring was so full it was radiating heat against my skin and I thought with the small functional part of my brain that was still observing anything I wish I had tried this years ago, with complete crity and total conviction.

  The rest of my brain was not avaible for comment.

  He increased his pace and I felt myself building toward something, I hadn't experienced before, the ring amplifying the prostate stimution and feeding it back into the charge cycle and the charge cycle feeding back into the sensation and the whole system running hotter and hotter until it broke. I came hard into the mattress beneath me, groaning long and low into the sheets, my whole body shaking through it.

  The ring took most of it. I let it.

  He finished at almost exactly the same moment, driving deep and holding there, and I felt him pulse through it, and then he was still.

  The room was quiet except for both of us breathing.

  He pulled out slowly and the wet sound of it made me close my eyes for a moment. I felt him clean himself off on my ass cheeks, which I was choosing to find funny rather than anything else, and then there was the soft sound of a light sp against the same spot that was more punctuation than anything.

  I y face down and listened to him get dressed.

  The small sound of coins on the table.

  The door opening.

  The door closing.

  I y there in the warm mplight, thoroughly and completely wrecked in the most pleasant possible way, the ring humming deep and dark and full at my base, the charge it had accumuted from the encounter sitting warm and rich alongside my own.

  I am absolutely a pervert, I thought, again, with more certainty than the first time.

  I still felt no particur distress about it.

  I rolled over, found the coins on the table, and looked at the ceiling and thought about the fact that I had money now, and had eaten actual food, and had a bed for the night, and had discovered several things about myself in the st hour that I was filing directly into the research folder without examining too closely.

  The ring pulsed once. Warm. Satisfied.

  "Yeah," I said. "I know."