The Standup Boys' Close Call

All those male voices raised Misty's blood. The tonguing she had received earlier only made her want to ambush one of them and have another go, but she forced herself to focus. Consensual sex was the only kind she truly wanted anymore, and there would be plenty of opportunity for that later—if she did this right. Ducking back down, she wracked her mind for what might scare the men away. Then an idea struck her.

"I don't think they see us," she said, loud enough for them to hear her. "I think we can take them. Take them, take them, take them." It felt eerily easy, slipping into the verbal tic that monster girls were known for. "They'll be juicy. Yes, nice and full and juicy."

The men made no response.

"Hush!" she hissed, in a different tone of voice. "They'll hear us. We need to sneak, sneak, sneak up on them. Then grab them. Stuff them. Get their cocks up. Yes..." Mist breathed out heavily. This talk of grabbing men and cramming cocks was not helping her to focus.

Finally, she heard what she had hoped for: "Do you hear something?"

"We'll get them. Get them, get them, get them. That one on the right looks bouncy. Let's ride him first."

Shoes scraped on stone as the men fanned out. Misty dissolved, hiding herself as two men glanced into the gutter where she hid. Floating past the clueless humans, she materialized behind a man who investigated an electric lamp as if certain her voice had come from there.

She crouched. Then she pounced on him.

The man screamed. The other men turned to look, and pandemonium broke out. With a kind of fierceness Misty had learned to expect, two men drew weapons and charged for her. But by the time they got there, she was already mist, invisible as she drifted behind a different man who stood at the gutter, blinking at his brothers and looking suddenly very silly. Making herself flesh in the gutter, she leapt up and grabbed the man's ankles, eliciting a comical squeal and receiving a very unamusing kick to the forehead. She collapsed to the ground, evaporating before she could come to any more harm.

The men babbled in panic:

"What happened?"

"She's gone!"

"What's going on here?"

"How many of them are there?"

Floating up to the ceiling, Misty became flesh one more time, perched in a buttress that braced the ceiling against the wall. Taking in a deep breath, she let out a deep, feminine laugh.

That did it. "They're everywhere!" cried one man. "We're under attack! Get out of here!"

"Stop her!"

"Help me get the map!"

"What do we do?"

"Follow me!"

Misty laughed again, and this time it was a real one. That had been fun. And now, with those men scrambling to safety, she gave herself up to the air, flowing up through the pipe and began the long drift back to Morn's house.

"What are you up to?" The deep, sinister woman's voice addressed Misty just as she left the abandoned building, and she turned her gaze around to see the spider peeking from a crack in the building's roof, staring straight at her.

Sheepish, Misty assumed her physical form on the sloped roof. "I scared all the men in the basement, so they'll run away."

"But you're not chasing them."

Misty held her head high. "Nope."

"What, you've already had your fun? Don't tell me you were only practicing."

"I didn't do it for the sex."

It gave Misty a rush of satisfaction when the spider woman said exactly what Misty had expected her to say: "What kind of monster girl are you?"

Misty smirked, dissolving again. "A different kind."

* * *

Misty leaned on the wooden fence, gazing at what she and Morn had built.

A wooden shelter rose from the jungle dirt in the clearing they had made, rooted firmly in the mud, its shafts stained with the sweat from their palms. It looked pathetically small against the silhouette of Izaz, but still she was proud.

And the difference mattered little, because she might never see Izaz again from the inside. After casting about for a place in the city to keep her new husband, she had found that there was no safety for a monster girl and her runaway man inside the walls of Izaz, so she had smuggled him out. Morn knew the crafty ways humans manipulated their environment, and Misty knew the jungle. Together, they had cleared a plot of land, made a humble garden, set animal traps and built a house, all in less than two weeks.

It hadn't been without help. Izazi huntresses shared the jungle with them, and to Misty's amazement, they had been unfazed to discover her and Morn. A wild people, they openly scorned the norms of their city, and would talk to her just as openly as they had talked to Morn.

For now, the couple was alone. Morn scraped at a shoot of wood that made up the doorway of the hut, trying to even out a stubborn knob on the wood. He leaned forward, his sweaty back bent, his butt tight under the stress, muscles exposed by the skimpy loincloth Misty had dressed him in. She watched him, then sauntered up to him laid her hands on his slick back.

He looked over his shoulder and smirked.

"You've done enough," said Misty, running her hands down his skin. "Enough work, anyway." Her fingertips brushed gently down his butt cheeks, then she gripped him firmly, pressing herself against his flesh.

He shivered and gnashed his teeth. "Why do you have to do that before you unlock me?"

Giving no answer except a smile, she herded him into the hut and threw him face-up onto the bundle of dewy leaves that served as their bed. His legs splayed apart, revealing the shiny steel prick of an Izazi chastity cage.

Here in the jungle, this cage served as a crucial last line of defense against the ravishings of daring monster girls.

Pulling the key from the hollow beam that held up a corner of the hut, Misty slid it into Morn's lock with satisfying click, then turned it and freed his straining flesh.

It rose in seconds, the tip pointing straight up for her, red and pink with vitality. Misty rolled it between her fingers, watching his foreskin flex over his sensitive head, then positioned herself over it. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she brought his lips up to hers. Locked in a kiss, she fell on him.

The thickness filled her, pushing her in every direction at once. She squeezed, pushing herself down on him, hard, then forced herself up, half-knowingly breaking the kiss. With her lips free, she moaned enthusiastically, singing out as every buck pushed her walls apart, then slid back out of her, friction making a fire of pleasure against her soft skin. She looked down and saw his sweating tan skin and his work-hardened muscles, straining to hold up as she bounced and bucked wildly, first grabbing his sides, then his shoulders, then the grass under his arms, then holding onto his forearms so tightly that she felt the blood pounding through them, then gripping the back of his heat and smothering him in another kiss.

It didn't take long. He never needed long to bring her to the edge. Rather than draw it out, Misty let the orgasm come, taking her like a sudden wind, crashing through her lower body and forcing out of her in one great spastic release.

For a few seconds, she straddled him, still but upright like a carnivore over her fresh kill. Then she extricated herself, feeling his still-hard cock squelch from inside her, and lay beside him. Usually, this would have only been the beginning, but this time, one orgasm would do.

"Leaving me hard, are you?" said Morn, through heavy breaths. "Good. You insatiable monstress, I was worried you would squeeze me dry again."

"Monstress?" said Misty lazily.

"Oh." He sat up. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean it badly."

"No, no, it's fine." Misty laid him back down, then settled next him, snuggling tightly against his hot chest. "If there's one thing Izaz taught me about being a monster, it's that it doesn't matter. Maybe I'm a monster girl. Maybe I'm more like a human." She yawned, relaxing in the steamy midday heat. "Either way, it doesn't matter. I'm just Misty."