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Author Topic: The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone (Multi-Celeb Series) [Chp. 3 Posted 10/11]  (Read 5187 times)

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Slyguy

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A fantastically fictional adventure in celebrity erotica.

A Young Man Seeking His Path To Honor, Glory, & Sexual Prowess,

On His Quest For Knighthood & To Get Laid,

He Will Need Help Along The Way.   

With

Brie Larson as The Fighter

Elizabeth Olsen as The Witch

Hayley Atwell as The Healer

Taylor Swift as The Bard

Babes, Bumpkins & Baddies Await In…

The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone
« Last Edit: October 11, 2020, 03:28:55 PM by Slyguy »


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The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone Chapter One
« Reply #1 on: March 13, 2020, 04:57:21 PM »
Chapter One: The Hung Dragon

Starring Elizabeth Olsen

Codes: MF, Denial, Fantasy, Handjob


(Image created by MaxwellLord)

   
Life spilled out of the crowded tavern, bleeding into the quiet dark night.  Light, laughter and a wonderful smell of bubbling stew carried on the cool breeze.  Shivering against the cold, Richard pulled his cloak tighter around him and dragged his weary boots onwards.  As he reached the sturdy oaken door, it burst open violently, smacking him square in the face and sending him careening backwards.  A drunken couple stumbled out, giggling as the man slapped the woman’s ass and she pulled up her shirt up to reveal a lovely hanging pair of dark chocolate colored breasts.  Their hands were all over each other as they headed for the stables, no doubt for a quick roll in the hay.  Watching them go wistfully, Richard rubbed his sore nose.  Dusting himself off, he stood, secured the longsword at his hip and ducked inside.
   
The tavern was packed to the gills.  People of all sorts cavorted and mingled amidst food, drink and song.  Hardened adventurers sat in their parties, undoubtedly rehashing the exciting events of that day.  Peasant folk, weary from a long day in the fields, enjoyed a stiff drink before turning in for the night.  Merchants in expensive silks sat sipping wine and gossiping amongst themselves.  Over the humdrum of it all was an ear-catching tune.  Searching for its source, Richard was stopped dead in his tracks.  A beyond beautiful blonde bard stood on stage, singing her heart out as she strummed a red-accented lute.  Staring slack-jawed, he watched her effortlessly tickle the strings, nimble fingers dancing along the neck with the skill and finesse of a true professional.
 
“Long live all the mountains we moved,
I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you,
I was screaming long live, that look on your face,
And bring on all the pretenders,
One day, we will be remembered…”

Her voice put a nightingale’s to shame.  Flaxen, golden hair fell in ringlets around her delicate features.  Startling blue eyes stared out across the crowd, her siren song echoing out from between crimson red painted lips.  Tall with seemingly endless legs, a tight leather skirt on her lower half barely preserved her modesty.
   
His drooling reverie was broken when a plastered patron crashed into him, knocking him off his feet.  Popping back up like a gopher emerging from its hole, he hurriedly adjusted his trousers and headed over to the bar, squeezing onto the lone empty stool, between two huge hulking men. 
   
“Ale please.”  He called as the innkeeper approached, cleaning a pewter mug with a dirty rag. 
   
A mane of fiery red hair spilled down her back as she surveyed him with bright blue eyes, peering out over a pointed nose.  A knockout herself, even clad only in simple homespun linen.  Older, perhaps even his mother’s age, but with timeless beauty and flawless alabaster skin. 

“You even old enough to be drinking?”  She asked with more than a hint of skepticism.
   
“Indeed m-m-milady!”  He exclaimed, indignant but flustered talking to such beauty.  It was also unfortunate that his voice chose that particular moment to crack, so his protests came out extra nasally and whiny.  “My 18th naming day was just last week!”   
   
“Milady?  What kind of place do you think this is?  Name’s Amy.”  She said, pouring a frothy pint into the mug she’d been cleaning.  “Or maybe Ms. Adams for you.  Two silver.” 

Fishing the money out of his coin purse, he asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know of any adventuring-types looking for another noble soul to accompany them?”

Amy passing him the full pint and shrugged, “Plenty of that sort in here, just ask around.”

Handing over the money and thanking her, he lifted the tankard of frothing amber colored liquid.  The foam had but touched his lips when he was rudely bumped, sending the contents of his drink spilling onto the man next to him.  Silence fell over the proceedings, Richard’s eyes growing wide and gulping audibly.  A roar of anger erupted from the burly figure who leapt up, pulling Richard off his stool.  Feet dangling a solid foot off the ground, he choked and spluttered as fingers tightened around his throat.
   
“Oi boyo.”  The man growled through dirty yellow teeth.  “What the ruddy hell you playin’ at?”
   
“S-s-s-so sorry sir.”  Richard stammered, barely able to get the words out as he kicked and struggled.
   
“Sorry ain’t gonna save me vest.  Look at this.  Ruined.”  He said, ale still dripping down his matted length of unwashed scraggily brown hair into his equally greasy and hairy looking vest. 
   
“Please a-a-allow to reconcile with you.” 
   
“Take it outside.”  Amy called from behind the bar, boredom in her voice. 
   
Grimacing, the man tossed Richard handily across the room where he promptly crashed atop a nearby table of three seated women.  Body crunching unpleasantly against the solid wood, he upended the food and drinks upon it, sending it flying every which way.  Dazed, he turned blearily to face the woman closest to him.  Standing up slowly, mead trickled down her front, face twisted with anger.  Fair blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her chest covered in simple unadorned leather and nothing more.  Squashed beneath it were the absolute perkiest pair of breasts one could ask for.  Muscles clenched, rippling down her arms as she slammed both hands on the table, staring daggers at Richard.  On each forearm was a bracer of steel, glinting dully in flickering light of the tavern. 
   
“What in the absolute fuck?”  She asked, looking from the crumpled mess of Richard below her towards the direction of the hulking man from whence he’d came.
   
“Whelp owes me a drink.  Gonna shake him and see what comes out.”
   
“And now you own us several drinks for throwing this whelp at us.”
   
“Piss off lady.”
   
“Name’s not lady.  It’s Brie.  Brie Larson.”
   
“Should that mean something to me?” 
   
“It means you’re asking to get your ass beat.”  She said, fists clenching until her knuckles were white. 
   
The two warriors were now sizing each other up, thuggish grimaces on both faces.  Righting himself clumsily, Richard scrambled with his cloak, sword hilt poking uncomfortably into his ribs.  As the second woman came bouncing over, he nearly dropped back down.  More specifically, her breasts came bouncing over and she followed.  Robes clinging to her like a second silky skin, they were stretched taunt over the largest bosom he’d laid eyes upon.  Distinguished and dignified beauty, she sandwiched her voluptuous brunette form between the two opponents and opened her mouth. 
   
“I’m sure that we can come to a peaceful resolution.”  Each word was a delightful treat to the ears, her accent clearly indicating she hailed from noble stock. 
   
“Stay out of this Hayley.  This goat fucker just volunteered to be my punching bag for the night.”  Brie snarled. 
   
“Brie, you have the chance to be the bigger person here.  Just walk away and return to our table.  Lizzie agrees with me.  Don’t you, Lizzie?”
   
The third woman at the table looked as though she couldn’t have cared less about the proceedings.  She hadn’t moved one inch since Richard landed on their table.  From his current position, he could have licked her muddy boots, stretched out and up on the table as she leaned back in her chair.  Sucking the flesh off a chicken bone with greasy fingers she surveyed the scene.  She wore loose trousers, with a baggy shirt, a V cut so deeply out of it Richard could spy her belly button as she rocked slowly back and forth on the creaking legs of the chair, supple breasts threatening to peek out at any moment.  A chaotic array of bangles and charms decorated her neck and both wrists.  Her long flowing blondish hair hung loosely behind her.  High cheekbones supported large eyes that flicked from one person to the next, each with more disinterest than the last.  Richard gulped again and felt his pulse quicken as she beheld him in her gaze.
   
Finally, she spoke slowly.  “Couldn’t care less.”  And then resumed devouring her chicken leg.
   
The thug guffawed, “Listen to the buxom wench here.  Piss off before you get hurt and let the men do the real fighting.”   
   
Brie’s eyes widened in rage.  A look of resignation came over Hayley’s beautiful features and from behind them, Lizzie let out a snort of derision.  Brie’s arm moved faster than the wind, fist connecting with the brute’s jaw before anyone could even blink.  His head snapped back and he staggered confusedly before spinning and hitting the floor with an almighty *THUMP*.  A one hit K-O.
   
“Anyone else?”  She challenged, raising her voice and looking around.
   
As it so happened, he had several friends, all of whom leapt up at the sight of their companion out cold and drooling on the floor.  Charging forward to avenge their unconscious friend, Brie smiled, cocked her fists and spit to the side.  Well actually, she spit onto Richard, but that wasn’t intentional.  At least, he didn’t think it was.  Meeting them headlong she charged into the fray with a wild battle cry. 
   
Heads turned, cheers erupting as Brie engaged the men, dodging blows left and right before retaliating with several of her own.  The fighting began to spill over as she landed hit after hit, knocking them into other patrons, who then began to brawl as well.  Amy screamed for calm behind her bar.  Someone moved to tackle Hayley, who summoned a glistening shimmer in the air that the ruffian smashed into and hit the ground with a thud.  Richard watched dumbfounded, before remembering to readying himself for attack and was immediately socked in the jaw, crumpling like a piece of parchment.  Flat on his back on top of the table, he watched upside-down as someone went for Lizzie.  Without breaking her bored expression, her fingers twisted unnaturally, red magic curling around them.  A flick of her wrist he went flying upwards until he struck the rough wooden ceiling, sending dust and splinters cascading downwards, before he crashed back to Earth.  The magic continued to flow as she floated another full tankard over to her above the brawling crowd. 
   
It seemed like the entire tavern was fighting.  Grunts and cries of pain sounding from every which way.  Then, one noise cut above the rest.  A clear ringing tone piercing through noisy scuffle.  Craning his sore neck, he saw the bard’s lute glowing with a strange ethereal light as she strummed.  Suddenly feeling utterly calm and contented, he let the music wash over him, resting his head back on the table.  All over the tavern, the fighting gradually ground to halt as the music grew louder and louder. 
   
Lizzie grinned and muttered to herself, “That’s our Taylor.”
   
Dazed and confused looking thugs lowered their fists and returned to their seats, or else were kicked out by Amy who seemed unaffected by the siren song.  Taylor drifted off the stage, floating through the calming crowd, still singing until she reached her party, to check in on them.  Rubbing his bruised jaw, Richard sat up and put his feet on the floor, starting as a huffy and haggard looking Amy stormed up to him, pointing a thin stick of wood at his chest. 
   
“You!  This is all your fault you little twerp.  Coming into my place and causing a ruckus.  Get out or you’re gonna leave here a few inches shorter than when you walked in!”  The wand was lowered down to his groin. 
   
Still feeling a bit light headed after taking a hard punch in addition to the mesmerizing-effect of the bard’s song, he tried to focus on the angry red-headed tavern owner and the cacophony of threats being leveled against his genitals. 
   
“Please milady, allow me to compensate you for any damages this fine establishment might have accrued on my behalf.  Let it be known that Richard Dragonbone IV never leaves a lady wanting.”
   
Flipping open his pack, he sunk an arm elbow deep into his magical bag of holding.  Almost a comical amount of time passed as he rummaging around for proper payment, things crashing and jostling around nosily inside.  Finally, he withdrew his fist, triumphant.  Held within was a solid gold ring, the signet of his house emblazoned upon it, a rigidly straight dragon with its snout pointed skywards and perched atop two enormous circular boulders.  He handed it over to her without a second thought, Amy looking down in surprise as though it would disappear at any moment. 
   
“This will do.”  She said, still glaring as she stormed away to snatch a broom and started cleaning up.
   
“About those adventurers?”  He called after her, but she just ignored him.

“Oi.  Dragonbone you said?”  Brie said, appearing next to Richard who started at her sudden appearance.  Not a strand of hair had escaped its bun, nary a drop of sweat upon her brow.
   
“Yes miss.  Richard the 4th of House Dragonbone.”
   
“Did I hear that right, Dick?  You in the market for some adventurers?”
   
“It’s Richard, but in fact, I am!  Such skilled warriors like yourself are exactly who I seek.  Tell me, are you and your compatriots perchance looking for another to join?  I need to make a name for myself, become a knight and live up to my family name.  And err, what better way than to join with a noble crew of adventuring folk!” Richard said, his words tumbling out him faster than water roaring down a waterfall.  Embarrassment crept into his cheeks as he finished, worried he have said too much.
   
“I think you just might be in luck there Dicky.”  Brie said, turning away.  “Team meeting!”  Brie looked back at Richard who stood there mutely.  “Scram!”  Richard jumped and hurried away like he scalded himself upon a cauldron.  He tripped over the unconscious form of one of the thugs, but quickly recovered, apologizing profusely to no one.
   
Brie spun a chair around, draped her arms over the back and spread her legs wide, looking around the table.  “We could use this guy.  We’re a little light on funds at the moment.  Haven’t had a well-paying job in weeks.  He’s a Dragonbone.  As in the Dragonbone’s.  Bound to have some deep pockets.  Look how he paid Amy off like it was nothing.”
   
“You sure Brie?”  Elizabeth asked.  “You want some wannabe knight following us around like a lost puppy dog?  He’s greener than a crabapple.”
   
“Exactly.  Look at him.  He’s harmless.  No threat to us.”  Brie said.  “Take a few easy jobs, milk him for all he’s worth then dump him.”
 
“I think we should help him.”  Hayley said.  “He’s on a quest to become a knight?  What could be more noble than that!”
   
“Plus, he’s kind of cute.”  Taylor said.  Everyone stared at her.  “What?  In a scrawny sort of way.”
   
Lizzie shrugged, “Your funeral then, just don’t expect me to pamper him.”
   
“We can figure out what do with him later, but for now, we agree?”  Brie asked.
   
After a bit more discussion, they all gradually came around to the idea.  Decision made, Brie stood up and called across the room, “Oi.  Dick!  We talked it over.  Your in.”
   
Hurrying around the thug this time, he stopped at their table and began to say, “It’s Richard-”, but was cutoff before he say more as Brie clapped him on the back, knocking the very breathe out of his lungs. 
   
“Formal introductions are in order.  First up, that brown-haired beauty is Haley Atwell, our healer.  She used to be a priestess of the Goddess.  Now she keeps us patched up with a tender touch.”  Hayley smiled warmly at him.  “Taylor Swift, our blonde bard knockout.  She can charm the wool off a sheep.  Very persuasive.  As you saw.”  Taylor winked at him and giggled.  “Lizzie Olsen.  Witch.”  Lizzie made no acknowledgment of him.  “And I’m Brie.  Brie Larson.  Finest fighter you’ll ever find.”  She nearly crushed his fingers in the handshake she gave him.  “Now, normally we’d stay here in the inn tonight, but we find our coin purses a little light of late.”
   
“Allow me!”  Richard said.  “For my new friends!  Plus, it’s the least I could do; after everything you’ve done.  Those guys would have beaten me into a pulp.” 
   
Hurrying away excitedly, Richard squared the rooms away with a still disgruntled Amy and they all retired for the night.  Hayley had healed his injured jaw with a gentle touch that left him feeling better than when he had walked in.  Finding his room, he said goodnight to Taylor who was in the room next his.  Lizzie casually strolled in after her, giving him a wink as she slammed the door shut.  Thinking nothing more of it, Richard entered his room and stripped down to his breeches, his head a whirlwind after the day’s exciting events.  A creak in the floorboards made him spin around, only to find Lizzie inches away from him.  Her trousers were missing, baggy shirt falling just low enough to cover her modesty. 
   
“How did you…”  Richard said, very aware that he was almost as naked as she was.  “I locked the door…”
   
“Shhhh…”  She whispered before grabbing the back of his neck, holding him tight and pressing her lips to his.
   
The taste of strawberries filled his mouth as her tongue pushed deeper in.  He found himself sinking into the kiss.  It was wonderful.  Sensational.  Passionate.  Her tongue pressed down on his, soft full lips cushioning his own.  Then he felt a sensation on his britches.  Eyes flying open, they flicked downwards and he saw her fingers twitching, red magic pouring out of them once more.  The crimson mist swirl around his groin, undoing his buttons one by one.  As if he wasn’t already hard enough from the kiss, he stiffened even further. 

“We r-r-really shouldn’t.  I d-don’t even know y-y-ou.  We j-j-just met.”  Richard mumbled, pulling back just enough to free his lips.

Lizzie laughed, crazy and chaotic.  The red swirl of magic popped the last button before grazing his stomach and reaching into his trousers to the beast contained within.  He audibly gasped, Lizzie shoving her tongue halfway down his throat.  It was pleasure like he’d never felt before.  Every inch of him was tingling.  Warm pulsating goodness surrounding and undulating his manhood.  His knees buckled and he quivered from head toe.  Lizzie’s large eyes looked at him as she withdrew her tongue, a sly smile dancing on her face.  Enjoyment in the pleasure she was inflicting.
   
“You like that?  Don’t you?”  It was a whisper in his ear.  Husky.  Soft.  He nodded.  She nibbled at his earlobe.  “Ever had a witch before?”
   
“N-n-no.”  Richard stammered, heart hammering in his chest. 
   
“Let’s change that.  Right here.  Right now.  What are we working with?”  Lizzie asked, her magic continuing to pulse and ripple over his poorly concealed member.  With a flick of her wrist, his britches fell to his ankles and Lizzie actually took a step back, magic sputtering out of existence for a moment as she stared agape at his groin.  “By the six heavens and nine hells!  That’s the biggest prick I’ve ever seen!  You’re hung like a goddess-damn dragon!” 
   
Unable to think of a response, Richard gave a kind of awkward half-shrug, his engorged member jutting out in front of him, like a spearman ready for attack.  In the blink of an eye, Lizzie recovered her cool, that mask of calm indifference sliding back over her face.  Fingers twitched, and crimson magic swirled once more around his stiff junk.  Groaning as the incredibly warm, massaging sensation returned, his fingers scrabbled against the rough wooden wall behind him.  He felt his balls lifted, one at time, squeezed gently as his entire sagging sack tingled with pleasure.  When Lizzie’s actual hand gripped him, he nearly lost it right there.  Barely able to wrap her fingers around it, she pursed her lips and spat a hanging glob of saliva onto the tip.  Somehow that salvia stretched to coat every inch of it as she squeezed tight and slowly jerked it.  The warm cocoon of magic tingled in the most wonderful way possible, her tight warm fist pumping up and down his shaft, sliding with the greatest of ease.  He shut his eyes, convinced if he looked, he’d cum right on the spot. 

“Such a big strong knight.  With a such a big strong cock.”  She whispered again, somehow sounding in both of his ears.

Her hot breath was on his neck.  The smell and taste of strawberries smothered his senses, the sound of charms jingling as she clapped her wrist against his groin.  He trembled from head to toe.  Fuck.  He was already there.
   
“L-l-lizzie…” He moaned, louder than intentioned. 
   
“You are going to cum, yes?”  She whispered, a sound of glee in her sensual whisper.  “Go ahead my hero.  My knight in shining armor.  Cum for me.  Cum for your rescued damsel in distress.”
   
He could feel the potent, swirling concoction bubbling in his big balls even as the magic pressed tight around them, “Goddess!  Gonna!  Gonna c-c-cum!”
   
And just as he could feel himself about to release, the sensation vanished.  His eyes flew open to an empty room.  His throbbing cock twitched, still positively ready to blow the biggest load of spunk it ever had in its entire life.  A swirl of red magic still lingered, but only at the very tip.  Lizzie had vanished.  The taste of strawberries was still on his tongue.  Reaching down, he took hold of his aching member, desperate for the sweet blissful release of climax.  Laughter sounded in his mind.
   
Hahahaha!  Yea right pal.  It was Lizzie’s voice.  You’ve got a big dick for sure, but you gotta earn this ride.  Nighty-night loser.  Enjoy the show.
   
“What in the hells?”  Richard asked, his brain moving at a snail’s pace as his body demanded to cum.

A drop of beaded precum fell to the ground as his swollen and engorged prick gave another yet another violent twitch.  Something on the other side of the wall sounded.  It was moaning.  Heavy moaning.
   
“Ohhhhh!  Lizzie!  Yes!  Ohhhhhh!  That feels so GOOD!”  The shout made Richard jump, Taylor’s strong voice cutting clearly through the thin wall.  “OH MY GODDESS!  LICK IT!  YES!  OH!  LICK THAT PUSSY!  HEAVENS ABOVE!”
   
Fingers squeezing even tighter around his quivering member, he gave it a solid stroke.  The sapphic sounds painted and incredibly vivid picture of the two gorgeous women going at it.  Another stroke and still felt like he was ready to empty his balls all over the floor, but nothing happened.  He jerked it again.  Faster this time.  Still nothing.  Taylor’s moans reached a higher octave.

Don’t even think about it.  Lizzie’s voice sounded in his head again.  I left you with a little enchantment.  No cumming for you.  Not until the cock crows.  In the morning.

Taylor’s shrieks intensified as the laughter sounded louder and louder in his head.  Refusing to believe such a thing was possible, Richard was suddenly like a fiend possessed, stroking himself fast and hard, but to no avail.  He had to cum so desperately, but nothing seemed to relieve this angry pulsating throbbing tension hanging off of his groin.  After a frantic few minutes, he eventually gave up, even as the moaning turned to into lewd pillow talk.  It was enough to make a sailor blush.  Climbing into his bed, he pulled the sheets up over him.  The tent he was pitching was so high that he might as well have been camping.  Sighing to himself, he tried to quiet his mind, but Taylor’s orgasmic screams filled his ears, drilling into his brain, ensuring that he never softened, not even an inch. 

“What have I gotten myself into?”  He asked the ceiling before rolling over and sandwiching the flesh spear between himself and the straw mattress in an attempt to get even a little comfortable.

Outside in the quiet night, the only disturbance was the ever-increasing volume of female pleasure and the telltale screams of a certain blonde bard cumming her brains out over and over again.  Above the door, the rickety old wooden sign creaked gently.  The letters upon it nearly faded beyond recognition: The Hung Dragon.

The End of Chapter One
« Last Edit: May 30, 2020, 01:20:05 PM by Slyguy »


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thenewcomer

Re: The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone
« Reply #2 on: March 13, 2020, 06:51:06 PM »
Your writing skill has improved greatly with this piece. These kinds of fantasy stories are usually hard for me to get into(and I’m writing on one myself), but you really upped your game on this one. Richard wasn’t the only one denied release.
 
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TLMorgan

Re: The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone
« Reply #3 on: March 13, 2020, 08:24:00 PM »
First off, the fact that you have 3 of my favorites in this one story is good enough for me  :Y:

I've always wanted to do a fantasy type story, just never could come up with anything concrete ideas that stuck out to me. I do have an apocalyptic like concept that I've been working on for a long while now and after reading this, gives me a reason to put it on paper...

Richard is a lucky man to get even a hand job from Elizabeth. Looking forward to reading the next chapter.
 
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MaxwellLord

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Re: The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone
« Reply #4 on: March 14, 2020, 03:15:48 AM »
I loved it. Love the line-up of ladies, loved how Lizzie was used and can't wait for more of the ladies in waiting. The fantasy setting is top notch and would love to see more of it, whih means 'm also keeping my eyes peeled for what's coming from TNC as well.
 
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Cadeauxxx

Re: The Dirty Deeds of Dick Dragonbone
« Reply #5 on: March 14, 2020, 12:00:19 PM »
Cool series you've got here with a unique setting. I really like the fantasy set up, as something that is fun to read.
 
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Slyguy

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Chapter Two: Gobjobbed

Starring Hayley Atwell

Codes: MF, Fantasy, Handjob, Titfuck

(Image made by MaxwellLord)
   
Shadows danced on the velvet-smooth cave walls, curtesy of the flickering torches held aloft.  The burning pitch-covered rags roared with a gentle hum, keeping the otherwise oppressive silence at bay.  The only interruption was the occasional *DRIP* of condensation from somewhere beyond the ring of dancing flame.  It made Richard jump every time.  The adventurers tiptoed forward as quietly as they could, one after another in a line, moving through the curvaceous passageways.  Stale, damp air-filled Richard’s lungs, along with some kind of tangy sour aroma that he couldn’t quite put his nose on.  The overall atmosphere did nothing to soothe the hammering of his heart.  It banged so loudly against his oversized, ill-fitting breastplate that he was convinced the others could hear every frantic beat.
   
At the forefront of pack, Brie held one clenched fist high, the signal to stop.  It was plain as to why.  Opening up in front of them, numerous passages branched off in a myriad of directions.  Too busy trying to watch his footing on the slick stone floor, Richard bumped into the back of Hayley as they came to halt.  Stumbling backwards, he recoiled from the buxom brunette like he’d been burnt and nearly lost his footing.  About to eat shit and give away their position, he managed at the very last moment to find his center of balance and right himself.  Exhaling his pent-up breath, he straightened up to see the rest of his party watching with expressions ranging from pity to amusement to disbelief.
   
“S-s-s-sorry.”  He hissed through clenched teeth, his jaw locked with nerves. 

Lizzie rolled her scarlet glowing eyes exasperatedly and let out a long sigh before turning back to face the front, shaking her head from side to side.

“Fear not Richard.”  Hayley whispered, the posh and proper sound of her voice a calming balm for his frayed nerves as she placed a gentle hand atop his armor.  “Have heart.  No misfortune will befall any of us this day.”

Gulping, and trying to wet his dry lips with an equally dry tongue, Richard nodded stiffly.  His sweat-soaked palm tightened around the hilt of Thrust, the longsword given to him on his eighteenth naming day.  The only gift he’d ever received from his father.  Truth be told, today was the day he had hoped to christen the blade.  Bathe it in the blood of his foes.  Or at least exchange blows.  Actually, the thought of all that blood made him a bit queasy.  Best not to dwell on it. 

“J-j-just s-so I can hear it again, y-y-you all have dealt with goblins before.  R-r-r-r-right?”

Brie snorted, the echoing derisive laughter rebounding uncomfortably loudly down the mazework of stone passages.  Placing a single finger to her ruby red lips, Taylor flashed a scolding look at Brie.

Approaching the rear, Brie grabbed him by his shoulder and shook hard, rattling his head and armor alike.  “Yea Dick.  Plenty of times.  Goblin’s are small potatoes, but this job pays well.  Almost too well.  And something you’ll learn quickly in this line of work: take the best paying jobs.  Especially when they’re easy and especially when a foppish noble is footing the bill.”
   
The party had been hired by said noble to deal with a goblin menance.  Well, menace was a strong word.  Nuisance was probably more accurate.  A band calling themselves the Gobjob Goblin’s had moved into the Cooter Caverns and were causing all sorts of commotion for the nearby quiet hamlet of Shaggin.  Harassing traveling merchants, they mooned, flashed and hurled feces along the roadside before buggering off.  At night, they snuck into the village doing everything from nicking knickers right off the clothesline to pissing in the well to leaving flaming piles of poop on people’s doorsteps.  Worst of all, the lot of them were peeping tom’s, watching men and women alike as they bathed in the nearby creek, furiously masturbating the entire time. 

The posted job had immediately attracted their attention when they stopped for the night in the village, and after a bit of haggling, terms were agreed upon.  A day of reconnaissance and now they were deep inside the cave.  For the life of him, Richard hadn’t been able to figure out why it was called it the Cooter Caverns, even as they passed between the rosebud-pink stone lips, and the thicket of dense brown bushes that made up the entrance.  But that thought had been a while ago.  Time was tricky in here.  It might have only been a few minutes.  Or it might have been hours.  Now they were surrounded by that same smooth slick pinkish stone on all sides. 

“Which way do you reckon?  Also, how much farther do you think?”  Taylor asked.  “The acoustics in here are amazing.  I’d love a bit of time to play around after we finish up.”

“I bet you would.”  Lizzie said, sticking her tongue out between two held up fingers.  “If that doesn’t work out, I’ve got a cave you can practice some tongue exercises in.”  Taylor winked slyly in response.

“It can’t be much further.”  Brie said, returning to the front and holding her torch even higher.  “Goblins are lazy fuckers.  They wouldn’t want to trek far in and out every day.  I say we just go left.  In fact, I think I might see a pair of panties that way.”

As Richard craned his neck to see what Brie saw, the eerie musty silence was rent by the clatter of footsteps and several wild, albeit nasally, high-pitched cries.  From all sides, numerous stunted green forms emerged from the darkness into the blazing torchlight.

Everyone leapt into action.  Everyone but Richard that was.  Meeting their battle cries with one of her own, Brie chucked the torch at the goblin closest to her.  Somersaulting through the air, the flaming end struck him square in the chest.  Setting him ablaze with burning pitch, he screamed in pain and formed an immediate retreat.  Ripping her sword from its sheath, she full on punted another goblin, sending him flying through the air before charging forward to engage three more. 

“Let’s see how horny you fuckers are after I chopped off those warty avocados you call balls!  Come here!”  The three goblins faltered, looking at each other then turned around and began to run.

With a graceful twirl of her arms, crimson magic swirled like a tempest as Lizzie lashed out.  Whipping two goblins across the face with a loud crack, she sent them spinning backwards.  Cackling madly, the magic coiled in her hand as she searched out for her next victim. 

Deflecting a blow from a goblin with her rapier, Taylor effortlessly parried.  Her opponent was wearing dirty and soiled panties on his head, like some kind of war trophy.  Whispering a command in his direction, the goblin froze, stock still.  Pulling the panties off his head, he stuffed them into his mouth.  Then, with a violent crunch, he brought his weapon upwards, colliding with his head and promptly knocking himself out.  Giving a tut-tut with a click of her tongue, she gracefully moved to engage her next foe.   

Dainty hand held aloft, Hayley summoned a pair of brilliantly white glowing balls, illuminating the wet pink passages as the torches never had.  The goblins swore and cursed, faltering in the harsh blinding light.  A severe slashing motion with her other hand, cut her opponent with a flash.  Then taking a deep breath, her great bosom heaving, a soothing radiant aura glowed around her voluptuous form.  Settling into an action stance, she was ready to assist should anyone need it.

Meanwhile, in front of Richard was a singular fat squat goblin.  Far chubbier than his comrades, dirty boils dotted his upturned pig nose and sagging paunchy cheeks.  Black hair slick with grease, unwashed and unkempt, hung in curtains around his ugly face.  Grinning with what few remaining yellow nubs he had left, he let out what could only be described as a battle wheeze and ran forward.  Well, it was more of a jog.  A fast walk really.  Perhaps a hurried shuffle.  Absolutely and utterly panicking, Richard dropped his torch and struggled to pull Thrust from its sheath.  His slick hand slid right off the hilt as it got stuck halfway out.  The goblin, still meandering in his general direction, but building speed, gurgled a hearty chuckle. 

“S-s-s-h-h-h-i-i-i-t-t-t.  Shit-shit-shit-shit!”  He stuttered even as his fingers tightened and he wrenched the sword free. 

It was like magic.  Suddenly with the gleaming sword in hand, he felt like everything was going to be alright.  It looked brilliant, something out a bard’s tale, glowing in the radiance of Hayley’s orbs.  It looked ready to -*TTTHHHUUUNNNKKKKKK*- right in the nards, the overtly rotund goblin rammed headfirst into him. As every whiff of air was expelled from his lungs, Richard was pretty sure he was going to die.  Or at the very least never feel well again. 

“You just got gobjobbed!”  The goblin squealed with glee, laughing his ass off as he bounced away.

Blindly reaching an arm out for something to grab onto, he could feel puke desperately seeking to retch forth from his body, but he was literally incapable of doing anything.  Anything but try and process the all-consuming pain in his scrotum.  Numb legs stumbling, they gave out from under him on the slippery pink floor and he fell backwards crashing his head against the stone.  Cries and shouts seemed weirdly muffled all around him.  The last thing he saw before fading into the blissful relief of unconsciousness was an enormous pair of breasts hovering above him.

***

At some point, he realized that he was awake, but he was unwilling to open his eyes or even move, lest the pain return.  That and the humiliation.  His first battle and he’d been knocked out cold.  By a pudgy goblin no less.  Just listening to the quiet around him, he could hear voices murmuring further away, and someone much closer rummaging around.  Eventually he had to at least move a muscle, just to see what would happen.  Stirring ever so slightly, he realized he was on a cot, not his own bedroll or the ground.

“Richard?  Richard?  Can you hear me?”  It was Hayley’s posh voice.  “Richard, if you can hear me, open your eyes please.”

Begrudgingly, he complied with her instructions as he felt soft hands touch his bare chest.  Blinking blearily, he opened his eyes and saw the same image he had seen before passing into unconsciousness.  An enormous set of breasts only inches from his face.  Eyes, growing wide, he sat up, trying to put distance between him and the whooping huge knockers.  Of course, this resulted him directly, but inadvertently, burying his face directly into them.

“MHHMMPPHHHFFF!!!”  His muffled protest sounded lame as he accidently motorboated the heavenly bosom.

Falling back to his prone position, he looked mortified as he stared up into Hayley’s light brown eyes, the face of an angel hovering above the enormous rack.

“S-s-sorry…” He mumbled incoherently.

“That’s quite alright.  It’s normal to be a bit disorientated after a head injury.  You took quite a bump there.  Tell me, how is your head feeling?”  She asked, resting the back of her soft hand against his forehead.  Besides a minor buzzing, it felt surprisingly fine and he told her as much.  “That’s good.  I healed your concussion with magic, but I’m spent for the rest of the day.  As for your other injuries, I believe your groin took the brunt of it.  I hope you don’t mind, I undressed you so I could apply a salve.”

“You…w-w-w-hat?!?”  Richard said, suddenly aware that he was very much completely naked beneath the itchy woolen blanket.

Looking down to his feet, his eyes grew even wider in horror.  The tent he was pitching was large enough that the entire party could have camped comfortably beneath it.  Hayley glanced down at it unapologetically, although he thought he made out the merest trace of a grin playfully touch her lips.

“Ah, yes…that.  A side effect of the salve.”  Her face scrunched up in thought.  “Actually, now that I’m thinking on it, we should probably relieve it.”
Words failed Richard, his embarrassment far too great for him to even get a syllable out.  He hadn’t had such an erection since Lizzie had slipped into his room only to leave him with the bluest balls in the history of mankind.

“I thought it might go down by itself, but evidently not.  I shouldn’t be surprised.  You’re a healthy virile young man.”  Standing up straight, she clapped her hands together, and looking a bit pink in the face, said, “Ok, then.  I’ll take care of it.”

“WHAT!?!?”  Richard blurted out. “N-n-n-no.”  He stammered, trying to shift the blanket in a hopeless attempt to cover his raging erection.  “I’ll-I’ll-I’ll do it myself.”  He turned bright red when he realized the implications of his words.

“Nonsense.  I’m your healer.  I studied at the Grand Temple of the Goddess in Erectis.  Top of my class.  Male and female physiology were both major components of my studies.”

Grabbing a stool Hayley placed it next to his cot, took a seat and rolled up her billowy sleeves.  In an instant, her hand slipped beneath the blanket, quickly locating the base of the pitched tent.

“O-k-k-k-k…” Richard muttered as her fingers grasped his pulsating flesh rod, squeezing with a firm, yet gentle caress. 

Quickly settling into a rhythm, Hayley stroked from base to tip, her eyes bright and alert as they wandered up to Richard’s face.  Her posture was impeccably straight, breasts standing out proudly, jiggling ever so slightly from the motion of her moving arm.  Beneath the blanket, his toes curled and he bit his lower lip to keep from crying out.

“Don’t worry about being loud.  I’ve activated an enchantment Lizzie put on all our tents.  To soundproof them from the inside.  We can hear them, but they can’t hear us.  She and Taylor can get so loud at night sometimes.”  Richard knew of no such enchantment.  He’d heard them just about every night as he tried to sleep.  Perhaps she had reversed the spell, just for him.  “Also, I think we can do away with this.”  Hayley said as she threw the blanket off of him, exposing his fully nude form.

Both sets of eyes were, of course, drawn to the towering pillar of flesh standing tall.  Eyes growing wide as saucers, Hayley quickly ran her tongue over her lips as she took in every inch, harder than steel in all its throbbing veiny glory.  Pink flooded her otherwise pale cheeks, although whether from arousal or embarrassment, Richard couldn’t tell. 

“By the Goddess…I must say.  Eh-hem.  This is-that is to say-you have a prime specimen of the male genitalia.  I mean.  You are a prime specimen.”  She cleared her throat loudly again.  “I’ve studied many diagrams, but the real thing is something else entirely.” Squeezing tight on the head, a dollop of precum leaked forth from the winking dragon’s eye and made its way slowly down the solid swirl of veins along the underbelly.

“Mhmmm, yea…”  Richard groaned, barely listening.  Then her words struck him.  “WAIT!  You’ve n-n-never.  I m-m-mean, you’ve never-umm…”
His sentence trailed off stupidly as Hayley blushed a deep shade of crimson but didn’t take her brown eyes off of his face. 

“Only women are allowed to study at the Temple.  But do not fear, we study both genders extensively.  Still, I guess you can may call yourself my first male patient.  Trust me though, you are in good hands.”

Squeezing tighter in that moment, the emphasis of her words was not lost on him.  Any complaint or protest on Richard’s lips died.  Hell, who was he kidding.  He had no complaints or protests.  Squinting at his cock, Hayley reached down to a bag by her feet and removed a bottle from it.  Shaking the crystal-clear liquid slightly, she unstopped the cork and tilted the vial, dribbling its contents down his massive upright prick.

“A bit of enchanted lubricant, grown, harvested and refined by the hands of virgins.  It should add a pleasant tingling sensation.” 

Taking both hands now, she stacked them on top of one and another and really went to down.  Her breasts now shook and trembled with the force of her exertions, wobbling like crazy beneath the confines of her taunt silky white robe.  He could even make out both nipples, distinctly erect atop each gigantic pillowy mound.  Forearms pumping like never before, they slid with ease across his inches, impossibly slick from the magical grease.
And tingle it did.  In the most wonderfully indescribable way possible.  Only Lizzie’s magical handjob resembled a sensation like this.  The *SHLICK*SHLOCK* of her working hands sounded loudly throughout the quiet tent, only interrupted by his quiet stifled groans.  Still as the minutes passed, nothing continued to happen.  Even when one hand reached down to massage and tickle his enormous cum-bloated babymakers, still nothing.  Richard, feeling more and more nervous with every passing moment, tried desperately not to focus on it.  To think of anything but the reason why he wasn’t spraying everywhere, but to no avail.

Thankfully a distraction was handed to him on silver platter as Hayley, looking perplexed and with a shadow of self-doubt on her own face, leaned forward to get a closer inspection of his penis.  This gave Richard a full and ample view down the front of her low-cut robes.  Staring in wide-eyed wonder at her juicy hanging funbags, he throbbed powerfully in her hands.  Leaning back in surprise, she stroked harder but to little effect.  Leaning forward again, he again shamefully stared and twitched savagely again.  This time Hayley caught him staring.  Quickly looking away, he knew he was busted.  Looking from his furiously blushing face, to her own bouncing boobs, something in her head clicked. 

“Of course!  A handjob hardly seems like enough.  You seem to be quite taken with my breasts.  There is another technique I’d like to try.  Have you heard of a tit-fuck?”

“Yes.”  He blurted out.  “I mean, n-n-no!”

“Don’t be embarrassed.  Let’s try it.  Can you stand up?”

Torn between shyness and desire, the allure of those massive milk makers was too much.  Slowly nodding, Hayley indicated for him to get to his feet as she released him.  Swinging his feet over the side and planting them on the earthen ground, he felt the grass between his toes.  Standing up and swaying slightly, his head nearly brushed the roof of the tent.  He did feel a bit lightheaded but the only thing he focused on was Hayley as she crossed her arms and tugged at her robe.  Watching as if in slow motion, inch after inch of creamy alabaster skin was revealed as she pulled the silky garment up and over her head.  When her magnificent chest came into full view Richard thought he might faint all over again.  Lifted upwards by the taunt fabric, they flopped back down on her chest as she discarded the robe.  Folding it carefully, she placed it to the side, sitting there in nothing but tight trousers and boots.  Getting off her stool, she knelt before him, her simply massive titties spilling forth.  One arm underneath them, the other produced yet more of that enchanted oil and spilled it onto her chest.  The gleaming liquid seeped down, coating her boobs in drizzled lines.  Placing the vial aside, her hands reached up to grab copious handfuls of that soft supple titflesh, massaging it slowly into her silky soft pale skin as she spread the oil in and around her heaving cleavage.  Her fingers lingered ever-so-slightly around her areolas, tracing them in a circle before moving on. 

“Ok Richard.  Here we go.”  She said, leaning forward, a boob still in each hand and smothered his cock with goose-feather down softness until his steel was firmly nestled in-between them.

“Oh.  My.  Goddess.”  Richard moaned as her hands pressed together, starting to work the ample amount of flesh along his nearly foot-long prick.  “B-b-by the six heavens and nine h-h-hells.  That’s s-s-soft.”

The renewal of the oil kicked the tingles up to a whole new level and the sensation of the deep silky-smooth valley of Hayley’s breasts was like nothing he’d ever felt before.  Held together, they formed a slick, slippery tunnel for his raging member to plunge through.  His hands clenched in fists beside him, hanging loosely by his side as he watched the proceedings, mesmerized in a frozen state of pleasure.  Leaking like a faucet, he continually twitched violently between them.

“Can you thrust Richard?”  She asked sweetly, blinking up at him innocently.

He didn’t respond verbally, but his hips sure did the talking for him, suddenly and subconsciously bucking forwards.  Now squashing her tits with each thrust of his pelvis, Hayley settled back into a more stationary position, bracing herself as he humped her chest.  Every thrust was a little harder, a little faster.  He couldn’t help it.  Some baser instinct was driving him on.  It’s source somewhere inside the churning maelstrom swirling inside his tender testicles.  An eruption of epic portions was brewing.  Whether brought on by his self-abstinence on the road, some effect of the healing salve, the magically pleasurable oil, or the gigantic titties squeezed tightly around his junk, he didn’t know.  Probably some combination. 

“That’s it.  Keep going Richard!”  Hayley said, her face filled with encouragement…and maybe a little something else too.

Dropping her hands from her chest, she fitted her arms on either side and pushed inwards, somehow making that warm tingling tunnel even tighter.  Now humping her chest like a fiend, his equally big balls smacked against her sternum lending an echoing clap to the muffled insides of the tent.  That mixed with a steady stream of grunting from him and a series of breathy little moans from Hayley had him in a frenzy.  Still, no matter what force he put behind his thrusts, every blow was easily cushioned by fantastically gigantic breasts of epic proportions.  Her stiff pink nipples were hard enough, he could feel the hard nubs rubbing against his groin with each pass.  The angry purple bellend peeped out of her cleavage, nearly impaling itself beneath her chin, seemingly getting closer each time it emerged.  His mind was blank.  Eruption imminent. 

“Oh Goddess!”  He groaned out.  “I’m-I’m-I’m gonna cum!”

“Yes!  That’s it!  Perfect!”  Hayley said, unable to contain her excitement, looking more than a little pink in the face, a single strand of brown hair having escaped from its confines to rest of her forehead.  “Release!  Ejaculate for me!  Go ahead Richard!”

Cursing loudly, Richard gave a savage thrust, his cock swelling to monstrous proportions.  Sputtering, the dragon’s eye winked once.  Nothing.  Again, it winked.  Then came the spunk.  A foot-long string of nut burst forth missing Hayley’s face by a fraction of inch.  It flew with such speed and velocity that it smacked against the roof of the tent with an almighty *SPLAT* and sent ripples across the canvas.

Another thrust.  Another spurt.  This one rocketed upwards, streaking across the side of Hayley’s face and leaving behind a solid line of white as she blinked in surprise.  Another thrust.  This volley flew upwards again, only to fall back down to earth directly on top of her head, where it landed amongst her chocolate brown locks to seep and ooze onto her scalp.  His thrusts faltered as his legs buckled and nearly gave out, but there was still enough momentum to spray her neck, collarbone and both tits with viscous oodles of sticky seed strands.

Vision blurry and swaying like a drunkard on his way home from the tavern, he tried to regain control of his extremities, blinking rapidly to try and focus.  What came into view was a Hayley drenched in white.  Letting go of her breasts, they flopped down onto her chest bouncing with supple grace.

“I’m-I’m s-so s-s-s-s-sorry.  I d-d-didn’t know there would be so much.”

Wiping at a streak of thick splooge clinging to her cheek, she reassured him, “Please don’t worry Richard.  That means the treatment proved effect.  So much pressure built up.  That’s definitely not healthy.  Tell me, do you feel any better?”

Nearly toppling over once more he muttered, “I think…p-p-perhaps…just let me lie down and get s-some sleep-p-p.”

“Absolutely.  Bed rest is a must.  If it doesn’t go down, we can do this again later.  As for me, it appears I’ll need to go wash off in the stream.”  Standing, she moved to put her robe back on, then looked down at herself and thought better of it.  Still bare breasted, she said, “You handled yourself well today Richard.  You are a…kind-hearted soul.”

Getting back on the cot, he didn’t say anything.  With the haze of lust slowly lifting from his clouded mind, the embarrassment was returning.  Embarrassment at what just occurred in the tent, but also at what occurred in the Caverns.  However, if he was truly honest with himself he was also immensely relieved that the fighting was over.  Smiling kindly, Hayley nodded and ducked out of the tent.  Outside, he could hear the muffled voices of his other traveling companions.

Brie’s was the loudest, roughly asking, “How’s the little Dickie?”  Then a pause.  “Where are your clothes?  The fuck is that all over you?”

“Is that cum?”  Taylor asked, with bemused curiosity.  “There’s no way that is just from one man.”

Lizzie didn’t say anything, only snorted with derision and started laughing.  From the sounds of it she’d fallen right off her seat and was rolling around in the dirt in hysterics. 

Richard tuned them out, pulling the blanket up to his neck.  Sleep was returning quickly as he snuggled up.  A thick string of cum fell to the ground from the roof.  Maybe he was going to be alright with this lot.  Just maybe.

***

Far across the land of Boobania, in a cave not dissimilar to the Cooter Caverns, a woman stood engulfed in complete darkness.  Opening her mouth, a strange language fell from her lips.  The haunting sound sinisterly reverberating against the cold unfeeling walls.  There was a pattern to her speech.  A rhythmic chanting, if you listened closely enough.  And as she continued chanting, the indifferent stone began to shake, trembling with some ancient magic.  Deep in the inky blackness, the smallest flicker of light appeared.  The chanting continued, the cave shaking and rocking.  The light reappeared, larger this time.  Fire.  Primordial.  Chaotic.  Burning.  Then the flames erupted into being, spraying forward as if from the nostrils of some great beast.  The chanting ceased, a last heavy word leaving the woman’s lips with a finality that could not be undone.  The cavern shuddered to a halt.  Silence reigned once more in the darkness.  Then it was rent asunder by the piercing reptilian shriek and followed by a burning jet of flame.  In the light of the fire, you could see the smile etched on the woman’s face.

The End of Chapter Two

Author's Note: Thanks to DarkSwordsman for the term: gobjob!
« Last Edit: June 06, 2020, 05:00:03 PM by Slyguy »


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MaxwellLord

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Wonderful work. The handjob as honestly a lot hotter than one would think. The perfect setting of the table for the absolutely sensation titfuck. And the subjects doesn't get much better for somehting so breast-focused as Hayley Atwell.

Kind of of hoping Dick gets a rematch with that asshole stout goblin. And very curious as to who that enchantress at the end could be.
 
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thenewcomer

Hope you’re fast tracking chapter 3 because this series is killer.
 
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TLMorgan

Hayley's big breasts can heal any wound and boner  ;D

Excellent follow up!
 
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jaina1

Is there going to be a Chapter 3?
 
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Slyguy

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Is there going to be a Chapter 3?

Yes, that and many more!  Working on chapter 3 now and should be done within the week!  Thank you for your interest!


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123z

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Very  imaginative stuff here. I  am always interested in fantasy erotica, whether reading or writing it. Any chance of squeezing in my fave girl, Emma Watson, in the future?   
 
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Slyguy

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Very  imaginative stuff here. I  am always interested in fantasy erotica, whether reading or writing it. Any chance of squeezing in my fave girl, Emma Watson, in the future?

There will be some other appearances by celebs other than the four main party members, however, I'm not planning on Emma Watson being one of them.  Sorry to disappoint, and I hope you can continue to enjoy the series regardless!


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Chapter Three: A Righteous Man

Starring Taylor Swift

Codes: MF, Fantasy, Oral


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Smoke hung heavy in the air, wafting in lazy chaotic swirls, twisting around the cluttered and cramped cottage as Taylor Swift entered.  Waving a hand in front of her face to clear the air a bit, she nevertheless inhaled a good deal of the strong-smelling incense.  Well, mostly incense.  It almost covered up the distinct order of marijuana.  Almost.

“Hello?  Is anyone there?  Madame Helena?” 

Her voice wasn’t its usual honey coated self.  Instead it was muted, barely more than a hoarse whisper despite her best efforts.
   
“Come in dearie.”  A wizened voice called from somewhere within the haze of smoke.  “What can Madame Helena do for you today?”
   
An older wizened woman emerged from a backroom, hunched over with flyaway grey hair so outlandishly wild, it could only be found on the head of a witch.  With a wave of her hand the smoke cleared, retreating to the corners of the room, revealing a table adorned with a crystal ball and a deck of tarot cards.  Two comfortable looking armchairs sat on opposite sides.  Behind the witch, a young woman followed, head bowed low in reverence.  Making herself as invisible as possible, she settled in the corner, a silent observer.  Bent over with age, the witch was draped in countless multicolored shawls, but her eyes were sharp as ever as they fixated on the leggy blonde, gesturing for her to sit down.  As both of them of took their respective seats, the witch spoke first.

“What can Madame Helena do for you today?  Gaze into your future?  A reading of the cards?  A tonic for a lost love?  Or poison for a spurned lover, perhaps?  Make his little sword a bit rusty?  That’ll make him think before he sticks it in another harlot.”

Taylor cleared her throat loudly in an effort just to be heard.  “Nothing like that.  I need a remedy for returning a lost voice.  As you can hear, mine has abandoned me.  Can you help me?”  She said, still little more than a whisper.
   
“What’s that?!?”  The elderly witch barked, cupping a wrinkly hand to her ear. 
   
“I need a TONIC to cure my LOST VOICE!” Taylor yelled, straining what little reserve was left in her vocal chords.
   
Tonight, was her performance at the Bow-Legged Bride Inn, in a show that would have an audience bordering on 100 people.  One of the biggest shows of her career so far, and here she was, a songbird without a song. 
   
“Ahhhh, something to restore your voice.”  The witch sighed, nodding and rubbing her chin.  Eyeing Taylor, she beckoned her closer with a singular finger.  “Lean in.  These old eyes aren’t what they used to be.  Lemme get a good look at you.” 
Leaning forward, her big blue eyes stared intently at the witch.  The witch stared back just as intently, eyes squinted as though trying to ascertain something.  “Hmm, you bear the mark of one touched by a scarlet witch.”

Blushing slightly, Taylor nodded and cleared her throat with a grating sound before speaking once more.  “One my traveling companions, but not versed in the healing arts.  I also travel with a former priestess of the Goddess, and she could not help me either.  Only soothe my aching throat, not return my voice.”
The witch nodded knowingly.  “Of course, dearie, do not fret.  Madame Helena can help with that.  Any friend of the scarlet witches is a friend of mine.  And for such a pretty young thing like yourself, I’ll even give it to you at a discount.  Just give me a moment.”
   
The witch stood up and puttered over to an alchemical station behind her.  Humming tunelessly to herself, she began rummaging through the many drawers, opening and closing them with careless clanging force. 

Making a tut-tut click with her tongue, she turned to her assistant, scolding her, “Maisie!  What have you been doing to these drawers?  It’s a Goddess damn mess in here!”

“Apologies Ms. Carter.  I will reorganize them promptly.”  The young woman in the corner responded meekly. 

Muttering incoherently, Madame Helena eventually pulled out all the necessary ingredients she was searching for.  One by one she placed them next to the mortar and pestle. 
   
“Marshmallow root.  Hmm.  Sage.  And echinacea.  Yes.  Yes.  Oh, and honey of course.  Lots of honey.”  Turning around, she faced Taylor once more and spoke directly to her.  “You’ll need to get the final ingredient while I prepare the potion.”
   
“And what’s that?”  Taylor asked earnestly, her neck craning to get a look.
   
“The semen of a righteous man.”  The witch responded without missing a beat.  “Retrieved orally.  With that your voice will be stronger than it’s ever sounded before!”
   
“The…semen of a righteous man?  Where am I supposed to find that!?!”
   
“Don’t rightly know dearie.  All the men I know are rowdy drunken layabouts, but I’d wouldn’t try the sailors down by the docks.  Not a very righteous bunch, that lot.”
   
Brow furrowed, Taylor slumped over in her chair, defeated.  Then the answer hit her like a lightning bolt.  She knew exactly where to get some.  Practically jumping up from her chair, she hurriedly excused herself and turned to hustle out the door.
   
“Wait!”  The witch called. Taylor turned, her hand on the door latch. “Take this vial.”  With surprising dexterity, the witch tossed a small glass vial, which Taylor deftly caught.  “Deposit the seed into there and bring it back to me.  And, this doesn’t matter as much, but the more virile the man, the better.”
   
Silently nodding and mouthing her thanks, Taylor vanished from sight, the door shutting behind her with a snap.  The moment the door was closed, the witch stretched, yawning loudly and with a wave of her hand dropped the glamour from her face.  Looking about 20 years younger and a hell of a lot spryer, she sat back down in the chair and put her feet up on the table.  Relaxing, she snapped her fingers at her assistant

“Get too it, Maisie.  Start brewing the potion.”  The young woman in the corner hurried over the work desk and began unstopping vials. 

As her apprentice began the work, she timidly asked a question, “Ms. Carter, I know I’ve only just started my training, but I’ve studied the texts extensively.  They say nothing about a man’s seed for a simple vocal restoration tonic.”
   
“There are some things you can’t learn in books.  That’s your first lesson.  The people of Boobania are a horny lot.  Trust me.  If your solution doesn’t require bodily fluids or a perverse sexual act, the client will never believe in it to work.  I usually add an ounce of spunk or the act of sodomy here and there to whatever remedy I’m cooking up.”
   
The young woman nodded politely and resumed her potion making.

***
   
“Richard!  Richard!”  Taylor whispered, unable to make her voice heard over the noise of the crowded market square as she spotted his lanky form from behind.  Hurrying up behind him, she gently caressed his neck to get his attention.  He jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around as he dangerously wobbled, threatening to topple over.
   
“Oh, dear.”  Taylor whispered as she watched him balance precariously. 
   
“T-T-Taylor.  Sor-r-r-ry.  You f-f-frightened me.”  He said, quickly righting himself and blushing with furious embarrassment.       
   
“Forgive me, but I need your help with something.  Right this instant.”  She wheezed.
   
“Of course.”  He said without a second thought as she grabbed his hand.

Leading him away, they ducked and weaved between the people of the crowded square.  Down a narrow side alley, she darted.  It she seemed deserted enough for what she had in mind.  Letting go of his hand, Taylor turned to face him.  He seemed confused, staring up and down the alley with clear and evident befuddlement. 

“Err, Taylor?  What did you need my assistance with?”
   
Pressing herself very close to him so their faces were only a mere inch apart, Richard was suddenly very aware of his extremities and unsure of what to do with them.  And why was he sweating so profusely.  His shaggy mane of brown hair was sticking to the back of his neck as he gulped loudly.  The drumbeat of his heart sounded loudly within the confines of his chest.  Those azure pools stared at him, utterly unreadable.
   
“This is going to sound crazy, but you’re the only one who can help me.”  She whispered in a husky, albeit strained, tone. 

Her glowing ruby red lips seemed to move in slow motion, perfectly articulating every letter, every syllable of every word spoken.  Upper lip resembling the finest archer’s bow ever crafted, and with a lower lip so full, plump and juicy not even the sweetest of fruits could hope to match it.  He’d never seen their equal.  He found himself nodding dumbly to whatever she was saying, mesmerized by her mouth. 


As those said lips curled into a sly smile, Taylor said, “I need your cum.  Specifically, I need to blow you and have you cum in my mouth.”
   
The silent nodding continued for a moment, before being followed by an outburst as he finally comprehended what she actually said to him.  “WWW-W-WW-H-HHH-H-AA-A-A-TT-T-TT?!?!?!?!?” 
If not for being pressed up against the cool stone of a building, he would have fallen over flat on his back.
   
“It’s for a witch’s potion.  To return my voice.  Please Richard.  I need the seed of a righteous man.  And you are the most righteous man I know.”
   
Batting her lusciously long eyelashes at him, there was a silent plea contained within those blue eyes.  That expansive crimson lower lip trembled slightly as she awaited his answer.
   
“Ummm…there’s n-n-no one else?”  He asked, suddenly acutely aware that his dick was pressed up against her thinly clad leather-bound thigh.
   
“No one.  Only you.  Please Richard.  I need you.”
   
How could he deny a woman in need?  That was a core tenant of knighthood.  Although, he’d never imagined a woman asking for anything like this.  Still, it was his duty to help, if he could.  An eternity seemed to pass before he slowly nodded his head once more, not trusting his mouth with any words to speak.
   
“Fantastic!”  Taylor said in the faintest of whispers, dropping down into a deep squat, her face perfectly level with the crotch of his britches.
   
“H-h-h-h-here!?!”  Richard spluttered, his head whipping left and right.  The alley was empty apart from some sparse refuse and the occasional person milling past, but none seemed to pay them any mind.
   
“I’m on the clock.”  She said, straining to be heard as she undid the cinch of his belt.  “I could just command you to cum, but I don’t think that’s what the witch meant.”
   
Resting Thrust carefully against the wall, the scabbarded sword remained stoically still.  The same could not be said of Richard who was trembling from head to toe as Taylor tugged on the front of his trousers, his cock flopping fully into view.  Even semi-hard, it dangled a good portion of the way down his leg, practically to his kneecap.  Staring at it with slack-jawed wonder, Taylor’s sapphire eyes practically popped out of her head with surprise.  Her hand drifted towards the massive member unconsciously as if to wrap her spindly fingers around it, but then she jerked it away as if scalded by heat, remembering what the witch had said: retrieved orally.     

“By the Goddess…I thought Lizzie was taking me for a ride when she said you had a dragon cock.  Maybe after the show, I can repay this favor and we can really find out what this thing can do.”
   
“N-n-n-no.  That’s q-quite ok-k.  J-just helping-g-g-g a f-friend in n-n-need is all.”  Richard choked out, beginning to have second thoughts about this whole thing.
   
Those second thoughts vanished the instant the blonde bard puckered her pretty painted lips and placed them against the mushroom head, planting a kiss that sent a jolt of electricity throughout his entire body and made his cock surge to full attention in two seconds flat.
   
Tongue flicking out like a serpent, it tickled the underbelly, darting down and all around before she brought it back to the tip, teasing the winking eyehole, already dribbling with excitable precum.  Trailing over the bulbous crown, then the long ways down the shaft, Taylor made sure she left behind a thin sheen of saliva across every inch.  It cooled pleasantly in the open air of the alleyway.  Her tongue even made its way down to his testicles, huge and hanging beneath the mammoth trunk.  Each of them too was soon covered in a comfortable layer of her spit. 
With a satisfied grin, Taylor settled comfortably in her squat on the uneven cobblestones.  With her mouth opened wide, it closed around the bulging bellend.  Entering her warm wet mouth, lips sliding down, was pure heaven.  The suction was so tight, she may have well have been a succubus sent to suck out his soul out.  His hands scrabbled for support, gripping the wall behind him, worried that his buckling knees would otherwise collapse.  Taylor’s hands were steady, her well-manicured digits dug into his thighs, clutching them for support and balance as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her boot-clad feet.
   
Each bob of her head sucked a little more down, until she reached about halfway.  That’s when she struggled, giving a cough and a splutter as she tried to swallow more down.  Cheeks puffing out comically, she hacked up a few ropes of spittle that flew and spattered against him.  Recovering with grace, she nevertheless retreated backwards, leaving a red smear of lipstick behind across the broad expanse of vein-encrusted manmeat.  Releasing her oral hold on him with a *POP* so loud it echoed down the empty alleyway, her crimson lips nevertheless remain untarnished.  Some kind of enchantment, no doubt. 
   
“Bit bigger than I’m used to, I must confess.” She whispered so softly that Richard could barely hear her over the blood thundering in his ears.  “I bet all the ladies tell you that.  But then again, I always like a challenge.”
   
“All the l-l-ladies, sure…” He muttered incomprehensibly.   
   
As her lips latched on once more, she pushed them along the shaft with renewed intent.  More and more of it vanished into the bard’s mouth, her speed faltering slightly the further she made it.  About three quarters of the way down, she was forced to stop again, choking on the skin flute lodged in her windpipe and made a hasty, less gracious retreat as Richard was once more peppered with a spray of saliva.
   
“Y-y-you don’t have to s-s-swallow the whole thing-g-g.”  He mumbled, looking down at her with blurry vision.  “Ev-v-verything f-feels amaz-zing.”
   
“Nonsense.”  Taylor said, clearing her throat, her voice sounding stronger as she did so.  “I’ve never met a dick I couldn’t deepthroat.”
   
Righting herself once more, her fingers dug into his thighs until it was near painful.  Her mouth opened wide, a perfect red round oval.  He could see her soon to be invaded tonsils.  With determination burning in her eyes, Taylor tried once more, taking inch after veiny throbbing inch deep into her gullet.  Pausing on occasion to let herself adjust, she made it past further than ever before only to waver an inch from the base.  Eyes watering slightly, she stretched her lips forward, conquering that last inch and settled in triumphantly, having achieved her goal.  A throaty gurgle sounded that may have been a cheer, but Richard wasn’t sure.  He wasn’t sure of anything, except that he might pass out from the sheer pleasure of it.  The feeling combined with the visual of Taylor’s lips puckered in a kiss against his groin, the rounded point of her chin nestled securely in his equally oversized bullocks, the not-so-subtle bulge in her throat was too much.  Inside, he could feel her silver tongue hard at work, undulating and curling, even as her throat squeezed him tight on all sides.
   
“B-b-b-y the God-d-d-d-dess, T-T-Taylor…” He mumbled, unable to process this never before felt feeling. 
   
Continuing to hold him there like an expert sword swallower, the pink in her cheeks gradually turned to red and finally she was forced to release him with an enormous gasp of air.  Rocking back on the balls of her feet, she wiped the spittle clinging to her lower lip with a swipe of her thumb and cleared her throat again.  The back of her hand took care of the rest of the spit on her chin.
   
“You know?  My voice feels stronger already.”  She said, in-between teasing the tip with the tip of her tongue.  “Maybe we’ll have to do this before every show from now on!  Still, let’s finish this.”
   
Before Richard could even summon up the energy to muster out another syllable, Taylor was back on him like a fiend.  Before had been slow and precise.  This was nothing like that.  Her blonde head was bobbing up and down with a speed and ferocity unmatched by any woman even in his wildest of dreams.  This newfound ferocity was accompanied by the slurping sounds of dripping spittle and deep throated vibrating moans that seemed to shake his entire body.  He really had no idea how long blowjobs were supposed to last, all he knew was that he wasn’t going to last much longer.  Fixated on her task, Taylor was in the zone, going at him like a warg with a bone.  The bubbling concoction was brewing within his balls, as Richard was struggled to get a warning out, to let Taylor know that he reached his breaking point. 
   
“T-T-Taylor.  I c-c-can’t.  I need-d-dd to.  Gott-ta-ta-ta C-C-CUM!”  He finally managed to blurt out.
   
With practiced ease, she withdrew so only the tip was still held between her crimson lips.  Cheeks caving inwards, she sucked like never before.  Balls jumping, his cock gave an almighty twitch, but was kept in place by the tight oral hold she had on him.  A torrential flood of cum exploded forth, filling Taylor’s mouth in a flash.  Those alabaster cheeks went from caved in to ballooned faster than a frightened pufferfish as he fired a seemingly ceaseless stream of spunk.  With a savage grunt, he threw his head back and banged it against the stone wall but he couldn’t care less as he continued his unleashing his unceasing torrent of thick, sticky seed. 
   
“MHMMMM!!!!” Taylor sounded from below as she was filled to the gills.
   
His dick spurting out the final contents of his balls, he finally ceased shooting his shot.  Cock slowly deflating, Taylor released him, her lips still pressed tightly together.  The grip on his thighs loosening as she reached down to rummage in her satchel.  From within she produced the empty vial.  Bringing it to her still crimson lips, she pursed them, allowing a thick string of sticky cum to drool out into the clear container.  Spitting out the remainder of the cum until it was filled to the brim, she was still surprised to find a good amount left swirling around her mouth.  Tilting her chin upwards, her eyes met Richard’s once more.  Opening wide, she splashed her tongue, playing around in the murky white pool.  They closed once more, followed by a loud *GULP* and then opened to reveal that it was all gone.
   
“Wow.  You taste really good too!”  She said, licking her lips appreciatively and popping upwards to her full height.  Reaching up on her tallest tiptoes, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek that left behind both lipstick and a bit of cum.  “Thank you so much Richard.  You are a true friend.  Now, I’ve gotta run!  Got to get this to the witch!”  Her voice sounded almost back to its normal wonderful melodious self.
   
“Mhm…hmmm…mhhhmm…” Richard mumbled stupidly after her.
   
Positively skipping to the alleyway entrance, she passed by the passerby who had, at some point, stopped to watch them.  His hand was down the front of his dirty trousers, clearly pumping furiously.  Pausing next to him, he unabashedly kept going.  With the lightest of touches, Taylor caressed his cheek and he visibly shuddered, a wet splotch forming in his pants.
   
Leaning in, she whispered to him, “Hope you enjoyed the show.”  Then she called back to Richard.  “See you tonight!  Thanks again!”
   
Richard had only just stopped shaking enough to realize his cock was still hanging out, let alone say goodbye.

***

“Say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe.
Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again.
Even if it's just in your, Wildest dreams, ah-aah, haa, Wildest dreams, ah-aah, haa.”
   
“She sounds fantastic tonight.”  Richard said, as he swallowed another timid sip of his ale, wincing slightly at the overpowering taste.
   
“And you wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that, would you Dick?”  Lizzie asked, watching him closely with a bemused expression for his reaction.
   
She was not disappointed.  Choking on his ale, Richard turned a bright shade of pink as his response was lost in a series of incomprehensible stutters.  Thankfully he was saved as Brie thumped down in the seat next to him, grunting with dissatisfaction.
   
“Been asking around for work, but all anyone wants to talk about is Rimmershole.”
   
“Rimmershole?”  Richard asked. 

“Some tiny backwater dump on the edge of the Unkempt Bush.  Apparently wiped out by the sounds of it.”
   
“W-wiped out?”  Richard asked nervously, still recovering under the scrutiny of Lizzie’s lingering gaze.
   
“Burned to the ground according to these lot.  No survivors.”  Brie snorted as she drained the rest of his tankard in one gulp.  “What a crock of shit.  If there are no survivors, how does anyone know it burned to the ground?  One drunken buffoon was even saying a dragon was responsible.  You believe that?  Dragons?  Pssh.”
   
“The last known dragon was slain by your ancestor, founder of your House, Sir Richard Long nearly two centuries ago.”  Hayley chimed in as she sipped her goblet of wine.  “It does seem unlikely a dragon was to blame.”   
   
Richard nodded, he knew the story of his great grandfather all too well.  “Still, it’s very worrying.  Who would have cause to destroy an entire village?”
   
“Nobody.  It’s probably not even true, like Brie said.”  Lizzie said, her eyes drifting back to Taylor on stage doing her thing.  A tremble ever-so-slightly rattled Lizzie’s body as she bit down on her lower lip while watching the bard strut her stuff.  It went unnoticed by everyone but Richard. 
   
“Rumors are often exaggerated Richard, especially when drink is flowing like it is tonight.  Taylor has really packed the house.  And even if they are true, the Queen will send someone to investigate the claims.”  Hayley said, then continued with a heaviness in her voice.  “If it is true then may the Goddess bless their souls.”
   
The conversation faltered as the rest of the party fixed their attentions on Taylor, hitting the final high note to thunderous applause.  A wink in his direction made him blush once again and mumble something about getting another round for the table as he stood up clumsily, adjusting his trousers.     

The End of Chapter Three
« Last Edit: October 11, 2020, 08:15:09 PM by Slyguy »


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