The Lusty Adventures of Akantha; Scav-Hound!

Well, I've been lurking for an extremely long time, and I guess it's about time I gave something back to all the excellent writers who've been entertaining me while I've been quietly leeching off their hard work and effort with hardly even a word of encouragement or thanks. Consider this a great big thank you to all the writers who post here, whether I've read their work or not. Writing is a wonderful way to create porn, especially of the not-especially-possible kind like futanari. I find it incredibly engaging to read or to write smut, as it really lets you into the mindset of the characters.

I'll try to update this as regularly as possible, but my work schedule is very changeable and may make getting time together to write difficult. And a little bit of a warning, I think the tenses are a little odd... I'm basically posting this without proof-reading because it's all coming out in one great big unrestrained rush one insomniac night. The self-confessed unreliable narrator seems to describe people and places and things in present tense, but the proper events of the story are related in past tense. I'm trying to get across the idea that she's living in a persistent world, but telling a story about events that have happened. I dunno if it works, so... I guess I'll let you guys be the judge of that.

Anyway, enough preamble and excess verbiosity from me. Hope you enjoy the writing!

Oasis North. Last outpost in the world before the great desert. Built on the remains of an old, pre-Cascade power station, it's got high walls made of sturdy concrete with plenty of guards, and within that a pretty bustling little trading post. That'll happen when you're the last source of water before the salvage-rich north desert; plenty of glory-seekers and salvage-hounds come through O.N to pick up supplies and stock up on H2O before they go get themselves killed in a variety of interesting and messy ways. I've lived here pretty much all my life; came here on a trade caravan and traded in a hard life sweating from shithole town to shithole town for a slightly less hard life working in the local watering hole of an establishment with guaranteed fresh, clean water.

Bet you're jealous, huh?

Before we go any further, I guess I'd better introduce myself. I'm Kara Deen; bartender, cynical wiseass and your resident unreliable narrator. But this story isn't really about me. I'm just a conveniently placed pair of eyes and ears. Everyone talks to the bartender, right? There's a lot of rumour flying around, a lot of wild stories. Hey, nobody has teevee anymore, so we've got to keep ourselves entertained somehow. And the thing that most gets the attention? Well, that's one thing that hasn't changed post-Cascade. If you really want a story that'll get people buying you drinks and hanging on your every word, it's gotta have violence, or sex. Preferably both.

That's pretty much as good a natural segue as I'm ever going to get to introducing the h