Her olive skin tone had a wooden grain running all across it, too. In fact, the only marked difference between her and the dryads were the spikes all ...ver her body. Like some of the dryads, the harpist wore a botanical and brassiere and loin covering. Her bra, however, looked like it was made from the tough shell of a seed pod. The cups were covered with thorns, like a prickly pear and the entire neckline looked as if it had been bevelled down to a razor-sharp edge. A skimpy, yet husky plate of. Not that they were to be used, of course, because Ben was there to serve and not use.“Slut…”A grunting bull racked a barbell before him, though he felt that he should have known the bull’s name. His shaggy hide was soaked in sweat, the musk of him rolling forth, and it was all Ben could do to stay on his hooves, shuffling forward, a spreader bar and leather cuffs keeping his hooves in place. Someone snickered at his position but he was too hard and horny to care, flushing heavily, need rising,. More

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