Alone in a Tent

12 votes, average: 4.67 out of 512 votes, average: 4.67 out of 512 votes, average: 4.67 out of 512 votes, average: 4.67 out of 512 votes, average: 4.67 out of 5 (12 votes) (4.67)

“What is it that you do?” She elaborated, chuckling softly to herself at some slight joke, “When you’re not being dragged into the desert by an annoyed Princess in a rush.” She could joke at her own expense? That was a surprise. Even to her, perhaps.

“I’m a scribe’s assistant.” He told her, “I spend my days running about the archives, sorting, copying, running errands, occasionally a trip to another town or city.” He explained to her.

“Ah, so you’re the assistant scribe…” She mused, nodding her head a tiny bit.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I may not have memorized your names, but I did pick each of you for a particular reason.” She began to elaborate upon what she’d said, “As I told you, I was to help construct a new palace. A new city around it even. I’d need different people to fill certain roles to get things started.”

“Including a scribe’s assistant?”

“Including a scribe’s assistant.” She repeated with a chuckle. Or perhaps, more of a giggle? That could’ve been his imagination though, “I would’ve needed someone to help me sort through and draft plans and such.” She further elaborated.

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Blood and Boned: Chapter 4- Enter The Kraken

5 votes, average: 4.00 out of 55 votes, average: 4.00 out of 55 votes, average: 4.00 out of 55 votes, average: 4.00 out of 55 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5 (5 votes) (4.00)

“MARCHELLE!” a familiar voice barked through the roar of flames and clatter of dishes. The kitchen crew was busy with the day’s hustle and bustle. Mistress Carmen’s breakfast might have been taken care of by you, but the rest of the Mansion’s servants still needed to eat. They worked in shifts, given the evening rotation still required food, but the morning shift was always the busiest. Not to mention, given that Mistress Carmen was among the highest of nobles, she sought to treat her employees with respect. Working for the Delacroix Mansion was a highly prestigious and lucrative affair, and came with many perks. Even the servant’s cafeteria operated with quickness and efficiency, and the food still amounted to the quality of a four-star restaurant. It wasn’t just the Mistress that reaped the benefits of her staff.

Indeed, the Mansion employees were often likened to a family. The cooks did not just cook for Mistress and her guests, they also cooked for the maids who turned down their beds in turn. At the head of the kitchen staff, was Jordan. A tall, lanky Salamander with a perpetual scowl. She seemed to be reeling on a wide-eyed Cyclops. “W-What, Miss Jordan?” she stammered. The salamander held something up to the Cyclops, you couldn’t make it out as you drew closer to the scene. “What in the bloody fuck is this!?” Jordan yells, screaming at the Cyclops over the kitchen commotion. Everyone that wasn’t the cyclops just continued about their business.

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Blood and Boned: Chapter 3- When Bats Attack

7 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 5 (7 votes) (4.29)

You exited the room and turned down toward the main hallway. The first step in preparing for a dinner is to inform the cook. Your mind is abuzz with what will have to be done to prepare for the next day. Sure, the other servants would see that the dishes were cleaned and the head chef would make the ultimate decision on how many courses and what they’ll entail, but there were so many other things to take into account. The good tablecloths would have to be brought out and ironed of any creases they’d developed during their storage, the extra chairs would have to be brought out, dusted, and repaired of any minor nicks or scratches. Of course, you wouldn’t have to do all of this yourself, but it would be up to you to ensure it got done. If it didn’t, then the blame would surely fall right onto your shoulders as the Head Butler.

“You’re mine, insect!”

Your musings are interrupted as the proverbial weight on your shoulders becomes a literal one. Two pairs black-furred claws impact your shoulder blades, and your still-wobbly knees buckle under the unexpected assault. You crash forward to the ground with a loud thud as the weight comes to rest on your back. You lay there, dazed for a brief moment before clarity returns to you. There is only one person in the mansion who would do such a thing…“Hello, Cassandra…”

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Blood and Boned: Chapter 2- Feeding the Mistress

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You venture through the stone hallways of the Mansion you’ve called home since boyhood. The red carpet was always soft underfoot, and the decorations of the Mansion were lavish in some combination of gothic and baroque. You weren’t quite sure which, but remembered enough to give an impressive-sounding tour when needed. Your mind wanders as you traverse the halls, considering you don’t need to consciously think about where you’re going. Your feet knew the way, as you’ve taken this very path almost every morning of your life as a servant of the Mistress. She would be hungry upon first awakening, and your duty was to be there.

The other servants of the Mansion were busy ensuring the entirety of the place was spotless. If the Mistress woke up to a dirty house, there would be hell to pay. The staff was mostly monstergirl, with the stray human here and there. The human’s official jobs were the same as any other servant, but the denizens of the Mansion knew that their true purpose was to keep the monsters fed and to keep morale up. Their other unofficial purpose was to cement the Mistress’ status as a high-class Noble of the Demon Realm. Not many demons could afford to keep human servants, but the Mistress felt it befitting her station. She did love showing them off to other visiting nobility.

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Blood and Boned: Chapter 1- A Ghoulish Wakeup

7 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 57 votes, average: 4.29 out of 5 (7 votes) (4.29)

You awake with a slow start, the hazy realm of the dreamscape steadily falls away as you are roused to consciousness. Your awakening is spurred by a warm, wet sensation gently teasing your most sensitive places as your eyes adjust to the harsh light of the sun pouring into your window. The beams pierce through the drapery over the windows as the blazing ball sets on the horizon. You tilt your head forward and make out a shapely figure through the glare of the sun. Your blankets hug a womanly shape as the bulge gently bobs up and down, lewd slurping noises echoing rhythmically around you; the stone walls of your chambers serving to only amplify the salacious display. You feel the soft caresses of your bedmate’s tongue as she lavishes attention on your member in long, slow strokes. Your hand moves to lift up the blanket and an imposing ray of sunlight serves to illuminate a pair of almond-shaped, purple eyes staring back at you from the darkness.

“Hello, Kendra.” you say groggily as the eyes look deep into yours, your mind still attempting to rouse itself. You feel a few soft kisses on your lower head as she does her best to welcome you to the waking world. She does not speak, a fact which brings a smile to your face. Countless times she had been reminded the breach in etiquette that arises when a woman speaks with her mouth full. Instead of muffling back a “hello”, Kendra merely answers your greeting with another long lick, looking coyly at you.

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