”“I’m sure I can do that,” Warstomp chuckled.“Excellent, master! My brother owns a pub there. It’s called Hallievous Ale House.”“I wil... check it out.”“I’ll write down the info and an introductory letter for you before you leave,” Pooka volunteered.“That is so thoughtful of you, Pooka,” shared the woman of the house.The next day the caravan set out. Warstomp and Badmorgan were the protection detail. Along for the journey was the mine’s head of transportation - a centaur named Weaverical. There. I had never suspected he was like this, who would I guess. How long had he been fantasizing about r****g me? This couldn't have come from nowhere, it must have built up over a long time.He lifted his balls, now coated in my saliva from between my teeth and rubbed them around my face some, dragging his balls over my cheeks. Then he put the head of his dick on my painted lips. He lifted it up and smacked me with it a few times, the soft pat pat pat a horrible sound to my ears, but no doubt. More

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