Ciri in Heat: Ch. 2

[pre-story]Ciri starts tending to Roach, but finds the task much more involved than she’d thought… and much more enjoyable. Commissioned by Fooled Trooper.

As always, if you like what you read, [redacted] Anyways, Enjoy![/pre-story]

Ciri in Heat; Chapter 2 

Ciri could feel the heat of Roach’s shaft through her soft leather gloves as her hands slowly pumped up and down along the monstrous equine cock before her. They looked so small against the mottled black-and pink shaft, her fingers couldn’t even close around the fearsome girth of the stallion’s member, leaving a sizable gap between her thumb and fingertips. Roach throbbed in her hands again, and a shiver danced up her spine, feeling the thick veins that wound like creeping vines over the pillar of horsecock before her bulge beneath her fingers.



There was simply too much cock for Ciri to stroke the whole length at once, so her hands were split up, each taking half Roach’s intimidating length, the divide conveniently marked by the bulge of his medial ring. One worked the lower half, the extra-thick root, fingers roaming from the middle flare all the way down to his sheathe, while the other focused on the front half, stroking from the ring until her fingers encountered the underside of his flat, flared tip.

Ciri had never done anything like this before. She’d never even dreamed she’d do something like this. But she was a quick study, clever and resourceful, and she approached this task with the same fervor as she did anything else. In a way, it was just like fighting a monster. Her attention was focused, but her mind was clear, she was ready, but not tense, and though she watched her target closely, she kept her eyes and ears open, refusing to be taken by surprise. She took note of the way he reacted to each touch, how each time her fingers grazed the ridge of his cockhead, his shaft throbbed, his flanks tightened, and he let out a short huff or a snort. She adjusted accordingly, adding a twist of the wrist to the end of each stroke, as her hand reached the head, to intensify the sensations.

Soon Ciri’s efforts earned their first tangible reward, Roach’s cock lurched in her hands once again and the broad, flat head swelled a little larger, the slit at its center pulling open. Ciri watched, entranced, as a dollop of clear, glistening liquid came forth from the tip, beading up for a moment before rolling downward until it hung from the ridge of the dark head of Roach’s cock. It glistened there, in the moonlight, like a gem, a perfectly clear droplet the size of a grape. Ciri knew what precum was, she wasn’t entirely naive, but she’d never seen such an amount all at once, and found herself staring at it in awe, marveling at it, wondering how thick it would have to be to hold a drop that size together, how would it feel on her skin, on her tongue, what it would taste like… Roach whinnied, his hips bucking forward once, the fat head of his cock suddenly looming huge in her vision, startling Ciri out of her trance. As she let herself sink back down, once more resting her butt on her heels, she realized that not only had her hands stopped their movement, but she’d been leaning closer and closer to the throbbing equine cock before her. She swallowed, trying to ignore the way her mouth was watering.

The dollop of precum had fallen from Roach’s cockhead when he thrust, but it was swiftly replaced with a new dollop… which fell away when his cock throbbed again, immediately replaced with another… A shudder ran down Ciri’s spine once more. There was so much of it… so much of that thick, sticky, musky precum… The smell was so strong, so potent, she knew it would cling to anything it touched for ages… She wouldn’t want to get any of that on her gloves… The reasoning seemed sound enough to her musk-addled mind, and for a moment, her hands came away from Roach’s massive member so she could pull off her soft leather gloves, one at a time.

Roach didn’t know or care why Ciri’s hands had left his shaft, though, and the massive Nilfgaardian stallion snorted angrily, his powerful hips bucking with, quick, forceful thrusts that made the beastly shaft bounce and swing wildly beneath him. With each thrust, his hooves inched forward in the stall, seeking to thrust into a willing mare, unwittingly bringing the object of Ciri’s obsession closer and closer to her face as she hurried to finish pulling off her gloves. As the second glove fell away, her hands shot up to protect her face, just in time to stop the dark-furred stallion’s fearsome shaft from smacking against her cheek. Roach calmed as soon as he felt the hands return, and his hips relaxed, but he didn’t step back, leaving Ciri kneeling there with the broad, flat head of his horsecock looming just inches in front of her face, her eyes crossing slightly as she stared at it.

Ciri shuddered again as she felt Roach’s cock throb in her grasp with nothing between her pale fingers and the skin of his member. She could feel its heat directly, feel it pulse in time with his pounding heartbeat, feel the throb travel up its length as the flared tip spat forth another dollop of glistening precum which hung, tantalizing, in front of her face. The scent of animal musk was impossibly thick and potent at this distance, the raw, bestial pheromones filling her brain with each panting breath she took, something primal in her core responding.

Ciri’s hands began to move, slowly pumping up and down Roach’s length once again, foolishly stroking the fearsome weapon that was aimed directly at her face. his shaft throbbed again, and as it had so many times before, the droplet of precum dangling from his cockhead grew too heavy and fell, but this time, it didn’t reach the floor, instead, it landed directly on the ashen-haired girl’s chest. A whimper forced itself past her lips as she felt it touch her skin, it was so hot, it seemed almost scalding, and it ran down her chest, leaving a trail of glistening precum as it slipped beneath her wide open collar and disappeared between her modest breasts. Ciri’s mind was whirling, already, a new drop was forming, it wouldn’t take long for Roach to cover her entire chest with his thick, sticky precum at this rate, to soak her skin with his essence, to mark her with his scent, to let everyone know she was his mare, that she was a filthy pervert who snuck out to the stables in the middle of the night and sank to her knees to service his massive stallion cock…

Ciri bit back a moan as her train of thought was interrupted by another heavy splat against her chest. There was no time to waste, she had to stop the flow somehow, and in her musk-addled mind, there was only one solution. Her head shot forward, her lips parting, her tongue shooting out to catch the fat drop of precum as it threatened to fall. As soon as that thick, hot precum hit her tongue, there was no going back. The musky flavor bathed her tongue and drowned her taste buds, it was salty and hot, with a bitter twinge to it, but at the same time… it was intoxicating. It tasted like pure manliness, the raw, primal essence of a male, of all males, but not like human precum. This was undeniably animal, it wasn’t meant for her, it wasn’t meant for any human tongue, but somehow that made it all the more addictive. She moaned aloud, unable to hold back the sound as she surrendered to her need, but it was swiftly muffled as her lips pressed against Roach’s cockhead, her tongue darting forward to lap up the fresh precum that emerged from the slit. It was almost like a kiss, her soft, human lips mashed against the broad, flared head of that equine cock as her tongue probed forward, rolling over the tip before darting forward, the pointed tip of her tongue digging into the slit, hungrily seeking every last drop of his intoxicating precum she could get.

The parts of Ciri’s mind that had tried to deny the truth of what she was doing were gone. She let out a moan each time her lips pulled away from Roach’s swollen cocktip to gasp for a fresh breath of air, filling her lungs with the potent musk of a stallion. The smell, the taste, the feeling of it, they filled her mind and dominated her thoughts. She didn’t care how wrong it was, how filthy and perverse it was, she needed this, she belonged here, on her knees beneath this magnificent beast, stroking, licking, kissing, serving, WORSHIPING this massive, glorious horse cock.

Ciri couldn’t ignore the heat between her thighs a moment longer. The hand near the base of Roach’s perfect cock fell away, reluctantly, leaving its twin to continue its work, pumping up and down the front half, her wrist twisting as it went, hungrily milking more of that delicious precum onto her waiting, eager tongue. Her free hand dropped to her waist, and she suddenly found herself regretting her normally-practical outfit. The stiff leather wrap around her waist offered decent protection, but at the moment, it also protected the waistband of her soft leather pants, and the belts wrapped around the wrap in turn only further complicated the matter. She pawed blindly at her belts, groping for their clasps before hastily unfastening them, her fingers trembling with need. The stiff leather wrap that hugged her waist was next, a real challenge to unlace without looking and using only one hand, but she was desperate and determined, and eventually, it too came loose, and she pulled it away and tossed it aside. Finally, she tore at the belt cinching her pants in place, and as soon as the buckle fell open, her hand plunged beneath the waistband and dove toward the vee of her thighs.

Thankfully, the soft hide of Ciri’s pants was flexible enough to allow her fingers to worm their way down between her legs. She was absolutely soaked, she could feel the warm wetness reaching almost halfway down her thighs, a notable wet spot visible on the surface of her pants, her juices soaking through the material where it pressed against her lower lips. Her fingers pushed through the small bush of curly, ash-white hair above her mons and slid over her flushed and sensitive outer lips, swollen with arousal. Her fingers curled, her fingertips pushing between her swollen outer lips, teasing the sensitive inner lips for only a moment before they delved deeper, two fingers finding the entrance to her pussy and plunging in. She moaned, the sound muffled by the horse cock pressed firmly against her lips, the sensations radiating from between her legs both surprisingly intense and deeply satisfying, like scratching an itch that had gone too long ignored, her neglected slit singing with pleasure.

Ciri’s tongue rolled around the wide, flat head of Roach’s cock, humming with satisfaction as the taste of his salty, musky precum bathed her tongue once more, her hand stroking up and down his shaft from ring to flare and back again. Her arm was starting to get tired, but she didn’t care. A third finger joined the two already inside her, slender digits pumping in and out of her nectar-slick honeypot, her knuckles straining against her pants each time they pulled back. She curled her fingers inside her, a fingertip pressing firmly against the cluster of nerves that always made her mind go blank and her toes curl, and it did just that. Her mouth opened wide and moaned out loud, the sound only slightly muffled by the massive horse cock pressed against her lips, as the smoldering heat in her core burst into flames. It was a slow-motion explosion of heat and pleasure, rippling through her, making her core tremble, her eyelids flutter, and her toes curl in their boots, her touch setting off the little orgasm that had been building up since she’d first dropped to her knees beside Roach.

Perhaps Roach felt Ciri’s warm, wet lips part wide, and it just felt too much like a pussy to resist his breeding stud impulses. Perhaps one hand wasn’t enough to satisfy the mighty stallion, and he simply decided it was time to take the next step. Or perhaps it only took a few days in a witcher’s service to grant the Nilfgaardian horse the otherworldly cunning all witcher’s steeds eventually had, and he knew what Ciri was secretly craving. Roach suddenly reared in his stall, letting out a whinny and shuffling his rear hooves forward, hooking his forelegs over the stall’s door as his hips bucked forward sharply. Ciri had let herself get too lost in worshipping the stallion’s massive cock, she didn’t have time to react when she suddenly felt the fat, flared tip of Roach’s horse cock pushing against her lips, hard, trying to force the fist-sized flare past her soft lips. She tried to pull back, but found herself suddenly out of room, the back of her head hitting the wooden door of the stall, a panic rising in her chest… and then, his hips bucked. Ciri would have sworn it impossible, it was just too big, that trying would have broken her jaw, and for a moment it certainly felt like her lips would tear apart at the corners, but now, Ciri found herself pinned there, her back against the stall door, with that far-too-large flare stuffed in her mouth, throbbing and pulsing against her tongue, its sheer girth pinning the wet, pink muscle against the bottom of her mouth. She could still feel har jaw straining to accommodate the bestial shaft, and a subtle burning at the corners of her lips, but she’d certainly been proven wrong.


Roach’s cock throbbed between her lips, and Ciri let out a muffled moan, the fingers buried between her legs pumping faster as she felt the veins bulge against her lips, felt the flat head bulge as it spat another dollop of delicious equine precum directly onto her tongue. Her other hand, having paused amid the panic, set to work once more, stroking and pumping along the length of Roach’s cock, from the medial ring until her fingers grazed against her soft, pink lips. Roach’s flanks twitched as his back hooves planted themselves solidly on the stable floor. Ciri knew this was far from over, and she shuddered with anticipation of what was yet to come.