BY THE OASIS
 
by Bitter
 
 
In the desert known as Auluroch, a fey stooped to take a drink. He had happened upon an oasis, one of those rare spots where the sands sank close enough to the underlying rock to hold water, and wisely decided to refill his body's reservoirs. The fey of that region had long since adapted to life in the dry heat of the Auluroch; at times when other fey would have collapsed of thirst, the Aulurochi fey would barely have begun to think of water. Protected by an aura bequeathed to them by generations of ancestors, they scarcely noticed the scorching heat of a rarely-setting sun. As a result, the sandy-white skin of the drinking fey showed no signs of tanning or burning despite its fairness. After carefully corralling his waist-length black hair behind his shoulders to keep it from falling into the water, the fey created a pair of cup-shaped indentations into the sand with his knees and leaned forward to drink. His penis dangled beneath him, unbound; he was a wild fey, roaming the Mystic Wilds naked and alone. With his hands, he drew mouthfuls of water out of the oasis, swallowing it slowly and enjoying the medley of coolness and clearness that only natural water can provide. Satisfied breaths escaped from his mouth whenever the water had left it. At last, he'd had his fill; he leaned back on his hindquarters and let out a contented sigh.
 
The fey's name was Hairin, and he was not long for the world.
 
Hairin let out another breath as he looked toward what lay ahead of him. The desert, with its pleasures and its perils, lay before him. Much as he wished to stay in this place, to drink the water and eat the fruit off the trees, it was dangerous to remain in one place too long, and especially in these rare bastions of unabashed life. These were Auluroch's crossroads, where everyone's path must meet. Friend and foe alike were likely to meet here, and tempting as it was to seek out friends, the meetings with foes were grave indeed. Hairin felt it best to be on his way. So, he got his feet under him, stood up, and raised his arms above his head in a stretch. The sunlight felt to him no more than pleasantly warm, inviting him to return to the open. Or perhaps, Hairin thought as he let his arms flop to his side, imploring him to return.
 
Hairin had only a moment to consider what a strange thought that last one was before a soft but abrupt poof behind him arrived at his ears too late to provide any real warning. Before he could react, two powerful arms wrapped around his chest, locking his arms to his sides. The nerves on his back lit up with information; soft human skin was pressed up against him from behind. Just as he thought to move his legs, he felt the sole of someone's foot trapping his own against the sand. And then when he tried to bend his arms at the elbows, the feel of something thick and leathery wound across his belly, snake-like, pinning his forearms down as firmly as everything else. It had all happened in a moment. Hairin was trapped.
 
"Hello, cutie," a sultry voice said into his ear. He had no way of seeing it, but the fey who had caught him was red-haired and red-eyed, and had the same strangely fair skin as he. She was powerfully built, in contrast to his own somewhat girlish frame; her thick, toned muscles easily held his own immobile. "Looks like I've got you," the other fey said. "Shall we get started?" As she said this, something new floated into view in front of Hairin's face. He recognized it as the end of the other fey's tail. It was, like her hair and eyes, a bright red color; it was segmented like a scorpion's tail, roughly three inches across, and ended in a thin needle several inches long. The tip of it was oozing a clear liquid; it dribbled off the end, syrup-like, and fell into the sand.
 
Even if Hairin hadn't known what was going to happen next, he could easily have deduced it. "Oh no... no no, please..." he said.
 
"All right, I suppose you don't have to watch," said the scorpion fey, whose name was Lia. The end of her tail drifted out of Hairin's sight. It was a cold comfort indeed to know that that stinger would be plunged into his flesh where he couldn't see it. The needle traced a path through the air until it was just below Hairin's right shoulder. The tip pressed gently onto his skin; Hairin reflexively tensed and tried to pull his shoulder away. Lia's grip was too tight for him to go anywhere, however, and even if she'd spared him looking at it, she was still enjoying making the lesser fey wait for the moment of entry. Hairin felt a strange mixed tingle of pain and pleasure oozing down his shoulder-blades as the scorpion fey's poison idly attacked his skin. His breath quickened, turning into sharp pants of panic. And then, on one exhale of many, he felt a prick and the shaft slid in. Involuntarily, he let out a heaving "Hhhhhaaaa--!"
 
"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Lia said, like a nurse. Hairin felt her suddenly draw him in tighter, and she shuddered as if having a gentle orgasm. The tip of her tail folded shut, squeezing a hot, sticky fluid into Hairin's shoulder. He was doomed now, he knew it. She'd gotten her venom in him; all the rest followed from that. But her death-grip remained; she wanted him fully under her power. That same mix of pleasure and pain was inside him now, spreading through his flesh and hitchhiking in his blood. Desperately, Hairin tried to resist; he struggled in his bonds and tested the limits of Lia's power to control him. He could not send her off-balance; he could not break her hold. All his fighting earned him was another injection, though that might have been on the way regardless.
 
Just after Lia's next squeeze of venom, her tail-tip shifted in another way. It expanded rather than contracting; rather than squeezing more juice into him, it sucked at his insides. Hairin felt his shoulder shrug back under the force of it. He heard Lia speak from behind him: "Ooh, you're a tough one." Another burst of liquid heat squirted into his shoulder. The flesh there was beginning to feel hot-- hot and pleasant; the pain was washing away. Shutting his eyes tightly, Hairin tried to get the pain back. He felt another pull at his shoulder, and something shifted inside him. The force rippled through him; his entire upper body felt it. Hairin bit his lip and groaned, "Hnnnnn," in concentration. But on the next pull, something slipped. There was a wet glugging sound, and he felt as though some liquid were being drawn out of him. A nearly imperceptible bulge formed at the end of Lia's tailtip and began to flow down the length of her tail. Hairin felt it roll across his bare belly, gently pressing in on him, before it finally disappeared behind him and vanished into the point where Lia's tail met her back.
 
Feeling part of himself stolen like that put a new fear in Hairin's heart. He twisted and thrashed, scraping up clouds of sand with his feet until Lia finally pinned them both underneath her own legs. Hairin's fingers curled uselessly against his thighs; his shoulders shrugged helplessly against her own. "Yes, yes, fight for me," Lia said. "It's always better that way." Perhaps triggered by his resistance, Lia's tailtip was now in constant motion. It contracted and expanded in a strangely easy rhythm, alternately pumping more digestives into Hairin and sucking away what had fallen prey to them. Now that the first had gone, the rest flowed freer; with every opening a blob of liquefied flesh started its journey toward Lia's internals, traveling with slimy gurgles down her tail's length. But for as much was sucked away, Hairin never seemed any worse for it. His energy sustained his body; his health was restored as soon as the injury was inflicted. But with every squeeze there was more poison, and with every suction there was less of him to take away. Even as he resisted with everything he had-- not just trying to escape bodily, which was useless, but mentally resisting, trying to hold himself together, to keep from being pulled into that sucking tail-- he could not stay whole. The true battle was with his own flesh, to keep it from wanting to be taken, and he was losing that battle, slowly but surely. Stinging pleasure and haughty coos from behind him accompanied each and every failure of will. Drop by drop, she was draining him away.
 
Hairin felt the melting sensation flowing deeper into his body. Carried on his veins, the digestive poison was slowly infiltrating every part of his body. Scared as he was for his life, Hairin found the perverse pleasure beginning to creep over him in his entirity. It didn't help that he could feel Lia's skin warming behind him, her body welcoming the stolen parts of his own with hedonistic abandon. He could feel her breasts expanding as his energies nourished her; the sensation of her warm, fatty, female flesh rubbing up against his own skin tickled the erotic parts of his brain despite their respective roles. She was a woman and she was horny (as evidenced by the furry patch she was grinding against his ass and the musky trickle it left behind), so what did it matter that she was digesting him alive? His panicked gasps slowly drifted into deep, heaving breaths, synchronous with Lia's tail-sucks. His cock gently stiffened and filled with poisoned blood, uncaring that the deadly pleasure that filled it would slowly dissolve it away. Hairin's exhales gained voice; he groaned in both ecstasy and despair: "Aaaaah-hhhhhh, aaaaah-hhhhhh, aaaaah-hhhhhh!" And Lia encouraged him, whispering in his ear, "Yes... yes... you're mine now... oh, fey are so much sweeter than beasts..." Lia made no move to satisfy Hairin; there was no need. He was free-flowing, leaking fluid onto the sand with abandon just as his energy was draining through Lia. As he became less and less, it was harder and harder to resist the agonizing pleasure, and in time Hairin forgot entirely about saving himself. He was lost, certainly lost; all that was left to him was to steal as much pleasure from disappearing into his devourer as he could. His hips swiveled as much as Lia's hold would allow, thrusting for its own sake, trying to tease a last climax out of his balls before the end. Every part of Hairin felt squishy now, held in its shape only by the desire to stay in that beatific torment. With a gasp and a moan, Hairin lost even that. Hairin cried out, "Ahh-- ooooooooh!" and felt fatal delight coursing through him; delicous contractions squirted his come out into the arid air. It splashed into the oasis' waters, sending ripples across the surface. Hairin felt similar ripples playing through his body; the momentary lapse in his defenses rendered him powerless to hold himself together.
 
Triumphantly, Lia let out a laugh and began sucking with greater force, drawing up as much of Hairin as she was able. Her tail bulged incredibly; it was no longer taking small dollops, it was taking Hairin in full. Hairin felt his shoulders draw back, pulled up by the suction within him. His heartbeat went awry as his chest started to flow into Lia. He felt his fingers suddenly become thin and wrinkled as the substance was sucked out of them, pulled along by some attachment to the parts that were being taken before them. Pleasure-soaked as his mind was, the process registered like a continuation of his orgasm, a series of pulses causing fluid to leave. He curled his toes as they too were sucked dry; his hands and feet went next. Each suck took an inch of his arms and his legs; his extremities slowly collapsed against themselves as his insides were sucked away. Lia supported him when his legs could not, holding him up and making sure none of her delicious prize escaped. Hairin's still-erect manhood became flaccid as it was drunk dry; his balls seemingly withered as their contents were sucked away. Orgasm-drunk, Hairin closed his eyes and smiled as his head folded in on itself. Lia gave a final pull, and then there was no more to take. Hairin's vacated skin slipped off her stinger and vanished into a cloud of dust before it was able to touch the ground, unsustained by the fey's now-absent energy.
 
With deliberate contractions, Lia moved the enormous bulge in her tail slowly down to its base. It gurgled as it went, melted fey-flesh at play within. Finally it reached the base of her spine, and Lia's eyes went glossy and unfocused as she began to absorb it. She breathed heavily, as if someone were ministering to her womanhood. Indeed, a trail of juice was running down the insides of her legs, her bliss at taking in another fey baldly apparent. The base of her tail worked and churned, squelching loudly as it tried to force more and more of Hairin into Lia's body. "Ohhhhh," Lia moaned. "Ohhhhhhhhhh..." The bulge was quivering with tension, unable to pass such a small entrance easily. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh--!" And with that groan, the bulge in Lia's tail forced its way into her body. Her belly swelled outward with it for just a moment, then violently contracted with a squish as Lia absorbed the whole of Hairin in a single blissful instant. In the same motion, she came violently, fresh juice spilling out of her pussy in gouts. Her knees buckled as her thighs found it more entertaining to clench inward and squeeze out more of her thick, musky fluids than to support her. Lia fell onto her back, still trembling with ultimate pleasure. At last, Lia's orgasm burned down to a warm afterglow, and she smiled at the feeling of satisfaction. When she had enough presence of mind to control her body, she flipped onto her front and placed her fingers in the sand. As if swan-diving, the scorpion fey sank into the sands, disappearing from the sight of the world above and readying her trap for the next fey who came to take a drink.
 
 
***
 
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:
 
So, yeah, just a three-pager in the same vein as "Control". Had an idea, wanted to run with, ran with it, idea is now run.
 
Not sure if I'm going to give these scorpion fey a full write-up in the Mystic Wilds world data article. There ain't much to 'em yet, besides what you see here.
 
I'm not sure how I feel about taking certain concepts inherent to the Mystic Wilds for granted (like the whole "everything is made of magic, so even if you take part of their body away they'll still have as much as when they started" idea). Then again, this is only a concept sketch story, and I can't be expected to re-explain everything about the world every time I put bytes to Notepad, can I?
 
3/14/10: Fixed a misplaced word.
 
12/19/10: Canon changed necessitated the alteration of one phrase.