Fiction Bite: Winged Mercy

Aug 122020
 

Nash Nighthammer dropped to one knee. Blood poured from a bite on his right shoulder. A claw mark on his broad chest burned. Sweat stung his eyes. He set his gore-encrusted warhammer down on the ground but his fingers would not release his mighty grip.

All around Nash were the corpses of the enemy. No two lifeless bodies were alike. They were mutants, creations of the Depraved Alchemist. Some had claws, others were armed with tentacles and one had a strange orifice in its chest that spouted fire. The only thing that united the horrible beasts was their color, a dismal unnatural grey color like milky mud.

A horn blasted from the depths of the forest. Somewhere, the Depraved Alchemist watched Nash slay his creatures through arcane means. The horn was a signal to the next wave. Another horde of mutants were being unleashed. They would be here soon.

Nash grunted. This would be the fifth time that the horn had sounded. Four times the mutants had come to the entrance of the Winged Mercy Temple and four times Nash Nighthammer had slain them all. Would he be able to stop this fifth group? Will there be a sixth or a seventh? How many mutants did the Depraved Alchemist have?

“Get up, Nash,” he told himself. He didn’t like how ragged his voice was. If he hurried, he might be able to bandage his shoulder before the mutants came. Or maybe he should swallow the last of his water to sooth the dryness of his throat. Whatever he was going to do, he should do it now.

Nash stood up and the world spun. He had lost too much blood. His legs gave out and he fell backwards. The sky appeared above him and something hard hit the back of his head.

Darkness.

Light.

There was a breeze. Gold flashed above him. There was the ruffle of wings.

“Rest Dauntless Mortal,” a voice chimed. Each word was the ringing of a bell.

A woman was beside him. Her skin was a deep bronze. Giant breasts swelled from her chest. A band of diamonds held back long black hair. A lovely face smiled at him. Wings of gold feathers stretched behind her.

“Who? What are you?” Nash whispered.

The women lifted his head. She pressed his face into one of her abundant breasts. Nash instinctively opened his mouth and took her nipple between his lips.

Heat flowed into Nash’s body. It was like being covered in a fur blanket. Aches faded. The burn in his chest cooled.

“The Faithful In The Winged Mercy Temple Prayed For Their Defender,” the woman chimed.

Nash mumbled something about the approaching mutants. It was hard to enunciate with a nipple in his mouth and a breast pressing against his face.

“They Will Wait,” the woman chimed.

She took Nash’s hand and pressed it to her other breast. He gripped her soft tit and sunk his fingers into warm flesh. Strength flowed into his arm. Each squeeze of her breast sent a surge through his muscles.

“You Have Fear But You Fight,” the woman said. “You Love Life But Are Willing To Die To Defend The Weak. You Are A Blessing Of Your Kind.”

Nash felt his loincloth being pulled away. Warn fingers gripped his member. A shudder ran up his spine.

“Rest Hero And Be Relieved,” the woman said.

The woman pressed Nash harder against her breast. Warm flesh enveloped his head. He bit down on the nipple and felt honey and cream fill his mouth,

Strong fingers stroked his cock. They were impossibly soft. Despite the sweat and grit of battle, Nash felt like he was being gripped by a velvet glove.

Cool wind blew over his body. He heard the sound of wings gently flapping. Each gust of wind blew away another ache on his body.

“Rest,” the woman chimed. “Release. Restore.”

Pleasure flowed through Nash’s body. It came from the nipple in his mouth and the breast against his face. It flowed through the hand that gripped the winged woman’s breast. It pumped through his hard shaft with every stroke of the woman’s hand.

Nash climaxed. Seed erupted from his cock and flowed over the woman’s heavenly hand. He shouted his orgasm into her breast. As his body shuddered, the winged woman held him tightly against her body.

And then Nash was alone. He was on his back, staring up at the sky. The smell of sex hung in the air. The felt the wind on his naked cock.

There was a howl from the woods. Nash sat up and flipped his loincloth back over his crotch. He grabbed his hammer and rose to his feet. The wound in his shoulder was gone. The cut on his chest was a faint scar. He swallowed and realized his throat was wet as if he had drunk from a spring.

As for his cock, it felt like it had been properly drained but there was not a trace of his seed on it.

The mutants were twenty feet away and coming fast. The one in front wielded hands with fingers that had fused together into clubs. Sharp thorns protruded from the ugly gray skin. It was a monster but not even the most monstrous of his kind.

Nash readied his hammer. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of gold.
He smiled and charged the mutants, knowing that live or die, he would not be alone.

Fiction: The Waiting Heart

Aug 292012
 

Nash Nighthammer waited in the darkness.  The graveyard was quiet and the crescent moon hung high in the sky.  Somewhere a Dire Wolf howled at the moon until the howl was cut short by something nastier than a Dire Wolf.

Nash gripped his warhammer.  A ghoul had been feeding in this graveyard and the good people of the village had asked him to kill the monster.    The village had no money but Nash took the job.  It wasn’t right for a creature to eat the bodies of the dead.

The ghoul would appear at any moment.  Nash would be ready for it.  Nash’s warhammer would smash in the teeth of the bone eater. 

“Are you my Odik?” a voice asked.

Nash turned to the source of the voice.  It was a glowing woman.  She was young with small curves barely pushing against her peasant’s dress.  The dress was short, as was the style a hundred years ago.  Her hair was long waves of brown.

“No, milady,” Nash said.  He had been raised to always be polite to women; especially the dead ones.

“My beloved is a brave warrior,” she said.  “My name is Pirella.”

Nash smiled.  It was an old name.  Even Nash had heard of the widow, Pirella.

“It is an honor to meet you, Pirella,” he said.  “But I am hunting a monster and I am trying to ambush it.  Perhaps you should look for your beloved near the gate?”

Pirella shook her head.  As she did, her hair shortened from the long tresses of youth to the more sensible shoulder length of adulthood.  Her curves expanded and her face was grooved with lines of worry.  Her dress added several layers of expensive cloth.

“My Odik hunts monsters too,” Pirella said.  “He went off to slay the Great Tiger of the Mountain.  He swore he would return to me.”

Nash nodded.  He knew the story.  Everyone did.  “I am sure he will keep his promise,” he said.  No one really knew what happened to Odik, but everyone knew that someone slew the Great Tiger.  In most versions of the story, Odik died of his wounds and was lost in the mountains.  Nash didn’t feel it was right to tell this spirit that story.

Pirella looked to the east.  “My father wants me to marry.  I refuse.  I don’t care if my father’s lands go to waste.  I shall not marry another.”

Nash looked at the graveyard.  There was still no sign of the ghoul.  “Odik will return to you,” Nash said. 

Pirella sighed.  Her hair turned gray.  Her curves shrank and her dress turned black with mourning.  Her beauty turned into a kind of grim handsomeness. 

“I fear he is dead,” Pirella said.  “I dream his corpse lies in a valley no one can find.  Still, I shall wait for him.”

Nash said nothing.  He wondered if anyone would ever love him with that much devotion.  He had known the pleasures of many women, but mostly they adored his broad back, his immense muscles or his endless endurance.  Never was it his heart that they were devoted to. 

The cold night got a little colder.

The ghost of Pirella looked to the moon.  She sighed and she became young again.  Her hair turned into a rich brown and grew down her back.  The early buds of her breasts pushed against her dress.  The look of longing in her eyes remained the same.

“Are you my Odik?” she asked Nash.

“Nay, milady,” Nash said.  “He will be home soon.”

Pirella smiled. 

Nash looked away from the ghost.  Her devotion was making him think dark thoughts.  He wondered if anyone in his home village was waiting for him.  Perhaps Sinda, the miller’s daughter.  She had been kind to Nash and tumbled with him in the back of the mill a few times.

No, more likely she had married and had three kids by now.  She had looked sad when he left to go adventuring; then again, she was disappointed that he didn’t lay with her the night before.  Nash wondered if she smiled when the tales of his exploits reached her.

“Warrior, a fiend approaches from the north,” Pirella said.

Nash peered into the darkness.  A shadow detached itself from a tombstone.  It crawled along the ground on limbs twice as long as a man’s.  A sliver of moonlight illuminated its gruesome face.  Thick teeth, capable of crunching bone, grinned in a horrible smile.  Narrow eyes darted to and fro, looking for a fresh grave.  It was a ghoul and it had come to feed.

“Get to safety, milady,” Nash told the ghost.  He didn’t know if ghosts could die, but he wouldn’t be a hero if he didn’t try to protect her.

Nash rushed out from his hiding place.  Unlike other warriors, he didn’t yell or scream as he rushed his foe.  His stomping feet were the only warning the ghoul had.

He brought his warhammer down towards the ghoul’s head but the abomination was already moving out of the way.  Nash smashed an ancient tombstone instead and fragments flew everywhere.  The ghoul skittered behind Nash and leapt on the warrior’s back.

Nash tried to grab the monster on his back.  His hands kept slipping on skin that seemed to slide from the ghoul’s body.  The warrior stumbled around as the ghoul used his long legs to kick and keep Nash unbalanced. 

The ghoul reached around and dragged claws against Nash’s face.  Nash refused to cry out as his flesh was ripped.  The ghoul bit down on Nash’s bare shoulders and blood flowed.  The ghoul drank the fresh blood and spitted it out.  The taste of the living was abhorrent to it.

Nash’s shoulder ached with an unholy fire.  He ignored the pain and ran for a tree.  At the last minute he spun around and slammed the ghoul that was on his back into the tree. 

WHAM! The ghoul hit the tree and let go of Nash.  The warrior, who had never let go of his warhammer, swung for the ghoul’s body. 

THWACK! The ghoul dodged and Nash’s warhammer cracked the tree. 

The ghoul leapt towards Nash and tackled him to the ground.  The warhammer dropped from Nash’s hands.  They rolled in the dirt, the ghoul’s hands on Nash’s throat and Nash’s arms around the ghoul’s back.  They both squeezed and tried to end the life of the other.

Nash felt his tongue go numb.  His lips began to burn.  He knew he would die here.  His bones would be broken and eaten by the ghoul.  People would mourn, but no one would mourn enough to become legend.

A branch bounced of the head of the ghoul.  It looked in surprise at the glowing woman before it. 

“Leave Odik alone!” Pirella said.  She was an old woman but the anger in her voice was fierce.

The ghoul hissed.  It also loosened its grip on Nash’s throat. 

Nash sucked in a lungful of air.  His arms tightened around the gruesome monster.  The ghoul howled with rage as Nash’s powerful arms came together.  Rib after rib snapped until the final terrible ‘CRACK’ of the ghoul’s back.  The unholy light in the ghoul’s bulging eyes faded.

Nash pushed the ghoul off of him.  He stood up on shaky legs and took another breath.  He had survived after all.      

Something soft and fragile tackled him.  It was Pirella.  Grey hair rubbed against Nash’s chest as she embraced him.  She was weak with advanced age but she held him tightly.

“Odik, you returned to me!” Pirella moaned.

Nash smiled.  He put his arms around her and hugged her back.  She felt real in his arms.  It felt good to be loved. 

Even if by mistake.

Pirella looked up at him.  She was old but happy.  Her eyes burned with a fire of unimaginable joy.  Tears ran down her cheeks and into the grooves of years of sadness. 

Nash kissed her.  He wasn’t Odik but he would him for her.  Their lips touched and Nash was surprised by the warmth of her tongue.  She was long dead but her love was forever young.

He felt her change in her arms.  Her frail body became firmer.  Weak hands suddenly pressed stronger around his waist.  One of her hands was bold enough to grab his ass through his loincloth. 

He broke the kiss and looked at her.  She was a woman, ripe for marriage and a dozen children.  Her lips were full and her bosom was fuller.

“Odik, claim me,” Pirella whispered.  “I have waited forever.”

Nash laid her down in the graveyard.  The smell of flowers and summer promises swept over the two of them.  With infinite care he peeled the dress from her willing body.  Bountiful breasts were revealed, along with the valley between her thighs leading up to the thick bush of her desire. 

Nash hesitated.  It was wrong to take another man’s woman.  Even a man whose bones have turned to dust.

“Odik?” Pirella said.  She was young.  Barely a woman with small breasts and a nearly bare sex.  Her eyes were afraid.

“Odik, are you disappointed?” she asked.

“Never,” Nash said.  He made his choice.  It was wrong to take a man’s woman but worse to break a woman’s heart.      

Nash kissed her breasts.  The small apples of her breasts were tiny in his warrior’s hands.  His lips brushed her nipples with all the tenderness he could summon.

Pirella giggled like a virgin bride under his caresses.  “More,” she whispered.

Nash laid kisses down her stomach.  Her belly lost it’s slender youth and grew rounder with every kiss.  Nash’s hands gripped her hips and pulled her body to his mouth.

“Yes, yes, yes” Pirella said with the huskiness of a woman.  “More,”

Nash kissed down to her thighs.  He breathed in the scent of her sex, adorned with the gray hairs of age.  Her thighs were thin and ancient but he kissed them with the worship of a lover. 

“Now, please, I have waited so long,” Pirella moaned.  Her voice was hoarse with a lifetime of weeping.

Nash obeyed.  He tossed off his loincloth and took his manhood in hand.  Pirella opened her thighs for him and he pressed against her sex.

The young Pirella cried out as he entered her.  Her tight maidenhood broke under the gentle force of his thrust.

Nash moved slowly.  He remembered the rough wrestling of his youth but he knew this should be different.  His body moved in service to hers.  He controlled his own lust to allow Pirella to enjoy what she had craved for ages.

“Oh how I have imagined this, Odik,” Pirella said. 

Nash kissed her while his body continued to pleasure her.

Pirella grabbed his back.  Tender hands changed to the strong arms of a woman.  Nails dug into his back and he moved a little faster.  Woman’s thighs clutched around him while bolder hips increased the pace of his lovemaking.  She broke the kiss to moan and Nash smiled at the woman beneath him. 

The small hills of her breasts enlarged to the proud mountains shaking from the earthquake of their passion.  Pirella bit her full lips as pleasure overwhelmed her.  The tightness of her sex grew stronger with every clench. 

Nash slowed down as he felt the body underneath him grow weaker.  He kissed the lips as they grew thinner.  He continued to caress breasts that shrunk with age.  His manhood pulsed inside the woman that waited so long for someone to love her.

She was a young when she climaxed.

She was a woman when she climaxed again.

She was old and laughing when she climaxed a third time.

Nash came.  His manhood erupted inside her when she was young.  The pain from his battle earlier was washed away in a wave of pleasure.

Pirella was a woman when he relaxed on top of her.  He laid his head on her full bosom and sighed.  He felt good.

The old woman kissed the top of his head and gently pushed him from her.  He helped her as she stood up. 

“I knew you would come home to me, Odik,” she whispered.

Before Nash could answer, a light blossomed within Pirella.  The light grew so bright that Nash had to shield his eyes.  When the light was gone, so was Pirella.

The graveyard felt empty.  The smell of flowers was gone.  The ghoul rotted harmlessly by the broken tree. 

Nash looked to the sky.  He had a feeling that the ghost of Pirella would not be seen again.

Fiction: Battle At Dawn

Jun 222011
 

Nash Nighthammer looked out from the battlement of the fort. Across the blasted plains, he saw endless campfires. Each fire represented at least a dozen Vokian Warrior Women. Each Vokian was capable of slaying six normal men before dying. That doesn’t even take into account their Wisewomen, famed for their terrible magic.

“We only have a hundred men,” Captain SteelSheild beside him. “When the scouts told us of the Vokian army, we sent out messengers to alert the king. That was a week ago. I doubt they will get here for another three days.”

Nash nodded grimly. His long black hair whipped in the night hair. Nash had never fought a Vokian before but legends abound. Their skin was as dark as night and legend had it that it was cooked black by the hot jungle sun of the south. Vokians wore no clothes because of the heat but they needed no armor because they were as fast as vipers. They say that only the Vokian women fight because they hated having men around to slow them down when they went killing. The Vokians only formed armies to raid the North when they were terribly bored with terrorizing their own neighbors. The Vokians only returned home when their bloodlust was sated.

“It looks like I picked a bad time to come for the boar hunting season,” Nash said.

Captain Steelsheild chuckled. “Bad for you, but the men are glad to have a Hero in the area. I know you can’t kill them all but you will help us make a good showing when they slaughter us.”

Nash smiled. Dying on the walls of a fortress against an overwhelming army was the stuff of legend. It would be a good death. If anyone survived, their might even be a bard song about it.

His smile faded as he saw something coming out of the darkness.

“Is that Vokian carrying a Northerner’s head?” Nash asked.

Captain Steelsheild nodded. “It is their way of signaling a truce. They carry the head of something weak to show that they intend to only talk.”

The Vokian Warrior Woman came within earshot of the fortress wall. Even in the moonlight, Nash marveled at her body. It was so perfectly fit. It was the body of a killing machine.

“My War-chief demands sport!” the Vokian yelled.

“What sick sport do you demons want?” Captain Steelsheild yelled back.

“We demand a battle of champions!” the Vokian woman yelled. “One of our best warriors versus whatever passes for a fighter among your pitiful kind. A battle at dawn to celebrate the blood about to flow.”

Captain Steelsheild looked to Nash.

The mighty warrior nodded. “Be sure to negotiate something good.”

“What will you give us if our champion wins?” Captain Steelsheild yelled.

“We will give you an extra day to pray to your gods for your weak souls!” the Vokian yelled.

“And what if your champion wins?” Captain Steelsheild said.

“You will open your fortress doors and fight us like women!” the Vokian yelled.

“Make it four days of prayer and you have a deal,” Captain Steelsheild said. “Our Gods are demanding and require many sacrifices!”

The Vokian laughed. “No wonder you Northerners are so weak! Your Gods take all your time when you should be fighting! Very well, we will grant you four days of prayer if your Champion defies fate and defeats ours.”

“We shall see you at dawn!” Captain Steelsheild said.

Nash was smiling again. A battle at dawn was just as heroic, wasn’t it?

~~

Dawn broke across the borderlands. Nash Nighthammer walked out of the gates of the fortress. His massive warhammer in his hands, he wore nothing but a loincloth for today’s battle. He felt overdressed compared to the Vokians.

The entire Vokian army was assembled before him. He hadn’t seen this many breasts and pubic bushes in his life. From here he could see that their skin was not black like midnight but more of a rich variety of browns. Each one was uniquely beautiful and he thought was a shame that their races had been at war so many ages.

Nash pushed away such thoughts. He was here for battle.

A Warrior Woman stepped from the crowd. By the All-Mother, she was striking. Easily as tall as Nash, each movement caused the muscles to ripple under her sun baked skin. Her breasts were large for a warrior but not as large as her magnificent hips. She had a small crown of fuzzy black hair on her head and an equally dense bush of hair between her thighs. Some sort of oil coated her body, causing her shine with every movement.

“I am Zuri of the Vokians,” the woman said.

“I am Nash Nighthammer,” he replied.

“Why the fuck are you carrying that?” Zuri said as she pointed at his warhammer.

“It is my weapon,” Nash replied.

The Vokian women laughed. Zuri smiled and her white teeth flashed like fangs on her dark face.

“Unless you plan to put it in my minka, leave it on the ground,” Zuri said.

“Ah, you wish to fight unarmed. I understand,” Nash said.

The Vokian Warrior Women laughed again. Nash was unsettled. It is not a pleasant thing to have so many women laughing at you.

“Fight? What would that prove?” Zuri asked. “We fuck. That is true test of strength. The first one to tire loses.”

Nash frowned. This was not what he had in mind for a final battle. Oh, the bards would certainly sing of it, that he was sure of. Nash just wasn’t sure that he would want to hear that song.

On the other hand, Zuri was a magnificently beautiful woman. There was also the matter of the soldiers in the fort. Fucking for the amusement of an army of women might be humiliating, but the alternative was death for a hundred lives. There was really no choice for the Hero to make.

Nash put his hammer down. Next he took off his loincloth. The Vokians made strange clicking noises with their tongues when his cock was revealed. He didn’t understand their ways but in that moment he chose to believe that they were clicks of approval.

He walked closer to the Vokian. He wasn’t exactly sure how to begin. Well, his cock was certainly ready but he wasn’t sure what custom would require. Should they kiss? Will they set up a place on the ground? Maybe they should start with a hug.

Zuri charged him. Nash was unprepared as she tackled him to the ground. The Vokians laughed as he hit the ground hard. His breath was knocked from him and it wasn’t helped when Zuri sealed his mouth with her dark breasts.

He struggled to breathe. Her breasts were slick with sweet oils that slipped and slid over his face. The more he struggled, the louder the Vokians laughed. He felt Zuri grab his cock and he froze for only a second.

A second was all it took for Zuri to slide onto him. The heat of the Southern lands engulfed his cock seconds before her powerful sexual muscles clamped down. Nash arched his body instinctively and the Vokians laughed as he nearly unseated Zuri. At least he could breathe now.

“Down, Northerner!” Zuri said. She rose to a sitting position on top of his cock. “Now you will see how a Vokian fucks!”

Nash and saw and felt it. Zuri danced on his cock. Her hips moved in directions that he didn’t think were possible. She swiveled, she gyrated and she grinded against his cock with a speed and rhythm that was entirely alien to Nash. Her entire body danced, from her swinging breasts to her head that flowed with a music that Nash couldn’t hear.

He climaxed. He couldn’t help it. She was the most exotic thing that had ever been on his cock and his body responded. He cried out his orgasm as he emptied inside her.

Zuri laughed. She stood up quickly, dismounting from his cock. The Vokians cheered as Zuri stroked his seed into her cunt.

“I’ve seen tree wolves last longer!” Zuri mocked.

Nash rose to his feet. “You’re quitting already?”

“What are you talking about?” Zuri said, her back still to him. “Everyone knows a Northerner can only shot his arrow once.”

“Turn around,” Nash said.

Zuri turned and saw what he meant. His cock was still hard!

“Impossible!” Zuri said.

Nash said nothing. He just kept looking at her beautiful dark body glistening with oil. His cock did the rest. It pulsed under the warm sun.

“I know what will defeat you,” Zuri said.

She shoved him back down to the ground. This time Nash was prepared to fight back. Strangely, she didn’t try to smother him or mount him this time. Her head went for his cock and within seconds, she had taken him into her mouth.

“By the All-Mother!” She sucked liked she fucked; wet and hard. He fell back as Zuri sucked all of his cock into her darks lips. Her slippery breasts pressed against his waist as she laid against him. He could see her perfectly round ass while she did decadent things to his cock.

Nash wanted to lay there and enjoy this woman’s attentions forever. It was the laughter of the Vokians that forced him to act. Having his cock sucked will not exhaust the Warrior Woman. He had to give as much as he was receiving.

He reached over and grabbed one of her legs. He moaned as his fingers wrapped around firm muscles. With a mighty pull, he dragged her legs to him. Zuri could barely resist as she was still vigorously sucking him. In fact, she seemed to be helping him as he brought her sex to his mouth.

Nash pulled the hairy mound of the Vokian to his face. She smelled of exotic flowers and distant lands. When he tasted her, she tasted of powerful spices and delicious fruits. As his tongue moved inside her and lapped at her juices, she moved and responded like a woman.

Around them, the Vokians laughed and made rude comments. Zuri sucked his cock while Nash licked her sex. She squirmed on top of him as he found sensitive areas inside her and he thrust and writhed beneath her as she nurtured his cock with her mouth.

Zuri climaxed this time. She humped Nash’s face with increasing passion until finally she had to take his cock from her mouth and sit up on his face. Once again Nash struggled for air but he kept licking. He licked and he nibbled until the great Vokian Warrior Woman climaxed on his tongue.

“Yiyiyiyiyi!” Zuri cried out in her strange tongue.

The Vokians answered her with a cheer.

When Zuri stopped humping his face, Nash gently pushed her from his body. She was slow to move, her body lazy with orgasm. Nash would normally take this time to cuddle but the stakes were too high. He had to make her surrender.

Nash rolled her over to her stomach. He grabbed her by her lush hips and pulled her up to her knees. His cock, slick with her spit, pushed easily into the sex that was still wet from his licking.

“Lightning and Thunder!” Zuri cried out. She braced herself with her hands as filled her.

Nash began to fuck. He had none of her magical rhythm. He couldn’t hope to match her beauty. All he had was an eager cock, strong hands to hold her hips and the lives of a hundred soldiers to fuck for. It would have to do.

Zuri cried out as he fucked her. In and out. In and out. There was no technique, there was only power. His cock slammed in and out of her with the fury of a Lion-Ape. Zuri couldn’t believe that such power could come from a Northern man. What the fuck were their women like?

Nash however was faced with a problem. He was going to climax soon. Getting hard again after one climax was no problem. He had led a very strange and busy life. Climaxing twice and still staying hard? That might be a problem. If he came again, he lost.

He tried not to think about coming. It wasn’t easy. Zuri’s gorgeous body shook from his thrusts. Her ass quivered every time it slammed into him. He admired the playing of muscles under her dark skin. The sounds she made as they fucked were primal and intoxicating.

Nash tried to distract himself by looking away from her. Every where he looked, the Vokians were looking back. Shiny dark bodies, firm breasts topped with black nipples and proud bushes of pubic hair did nothing to help Nash from containing his lust.

“Yiyiyiyiyi!” Zuri cried out again. Her arms gave out and she collapsed into the ground. Nash still had a hold of her hips though. He kept fucking as he tried to hold off the inevitable.

“Yiyiyiyiyi!” Zuri cried out louder this time. She slammed her fist into the ground.

That was it. Nash couldn’t hold back anymore. It was too much.

“No more! No more!” Zuri said. She pulled away from his body. His cock popped free of her sex and Nash froze in confused frustration. He wanted to come but wait, did she just give up?

The Vokians were just as confused. They were silent as Zuri laid panting on the ground. Nash’s cock throbbed as he waited for their judgement.

“Bah!” one of the Vokians cried out. She was wearing a headdress of feathers upon her head. “You have your four days to pray!”

Behind Nash, the soldiers of the fort cheered. The men came pouring out of the fortress and picked Nash up. Before he could say anything, they lifted him to their shoulders and cheered his name.

Zuri stood up and shook her fist at him. “I will kill you the next time we meet!”

“Would you rather have a rematch?” Nash asked, still flush with a frustrated cock.

The obscene gesture that Zuri did was unique to her culture, but Nash understood the intent nonetheless.

Fiction: Treasure Box

Dec 082010
 

“Nash Nighthammer, I have a quest for you!”

Nash looked up from his mug of ale. It was Turnik Nightslice, the accomplished thief and more accomplished rascal. He was carrying a large sack like he had just robbed a merchant’s guild. It was said that he once robbed a judge of his beard while he held court. It was also said that Turnik could steal a lump of shit from a constipated man. Nash knew that all of this was true, but most importantly; he knew Turnik was a friend.

“Don’t tease me, Turnik,” the mighty warrior said. “I have not had a decent quest in three weeks. The last quest that was offered to me was to kill some of the local wolves.”

Turnik snorted. “Tough times my friend.” The thief sat down at the table. He sat opposite Nash because when a thief is your friend, it is a courtesy to stay where you can see them.

“What do you need me to do?” Nash said. “Help knock out some guards while you steal some large gem?”

Turnik shook his head. “I have a box I can’t open. I stole it from the Mad Preist of the Unseeable but damn if I can open it.”

Nash frowned. “You can pick any lock and open any chest. If you can’t open it, what chance do I have? Do you want me to break it open?”

“Nah, my friend,” Turnik said. “I just knew this would be in your expertise.”

The thief pulled something out of the sack. It was a large box, but nothing like Nash had ever seen before. It was shaped like a woman on all fours. She was a solid piece of wood but every curve, every dimple and every inch of her wonderful body was carved with affectionate detail.

“I figured if anyone could get a box shaped like a woman to give up its secrets, it would be Nash Nighthammer.”

Later, alone in his room at the inn, Nash studied the box. He wasn’t about to try to open it with an audience. For one thing, he didn’t need Turnik’s good natured mocking as Nash tried and failed. More importantly, he didn’t want Turnik’s mocking if he opened it in a few seconds.

The strong warrior finished the last of his ale. He did have a knack with women. His broad shoulders and powerful muscles drew women to him easily. What people like Turnik never understood was that getting women as easy, knowing what to do once you have one is another adventure altogether. Nash was a warrior, but he was also a fast learner.

Nash examined the box. The wooden woman was on her hands and knees. Her heavy breasts hung down but with a Goddess’s firmness. The carved hair framed a face that looked stern. The legs appeared to be on hinges and Nash saw the scrapings of a hundred lockpicks trying to pry those legs apart.

The warrior sighed. Only a brute goes straight for the legs. He placed his hand on the back of the wooden women. He let his rough fingers lightly glide along the curve of her spine. Hands that could crush a skull between his palms were as delicate as feathers on the back of the carved woman.

The wood groaned as the back dipped.

Nash reached under the box and reached for her breasts. Instead of crushing the round wood, he gently stroked the breasts. The wood heaved in his hand but he kept stroking. With each stroke, the carved breasts seemed to get softer but the nipples became harder.

Turnik had offered him a share of whatever was in the box. He was a friend but he didn’t know Nash that well. Nash would have done this for free. Not even a magical wooden woman should go without.

He caressed the box but still it would not open. Nash wasn’t surprised.

“You are a pretty box,” he whispered. “The prettiest treasure chest I have ever seen. Won’t you please open for me, pretty box?”

The sound of cracking wood filled the small room. Nash looked to the legs but they were not moving. On a hunch, he checked the face. The stoic face was now smiling like a young woman.

“I don’t know who owned you before, but tonight I am glad you are mine,” Nash said.

A groan came from the box. The legs parted a mere inch.

“A box like you is a once in a lifetime adventure,” Nash said.

The box pressed back against his hands as the legs parted another inch.

“Damn, you are one sexy box,” Nash said.

The legs popped apart. Nash looked to see if there was an opening. There was, but it was not for a potion or a gem. This opening had hair, drops of moisture and a smell that was unmistakable.

Stopping now was unthinkable. He didn’t know if magic wooden chests had feelings, but he knew nothing should know rejection. He stood up and pulled his cock out of his loincloth.

It was a perfect fit. Nash wasn’t surprised. He was a little surprised how warm it was. He was very surprised with how wet it was. It was amazing what you could do with magic in this age.

Nash fucked the wooden box. The oddity of the situation did not occur to him. She may have been made of wood and strange mystical powers but she had needs. Nash was a warrior but at his heart he loved to aid those in need.

It also was a really hot box.

Nash climaxed. He didn’t know if the box climaxed. As soon as his seed left him, the back of the box opened. Inside was a scroll.

Nash kept fucking. The box groaned its pleasure. Only when the box became cold to his touch did he pull out.

He picked up the scroll. It was a map. More than likely it led to some secret treasure guarded by devious traps. Turnik would ask him to come along and help carry the loot. There might even be an epic battle or two waiting for them.

Nash looked down at the box. The legs were closed again. The face was smiling and the eyes were closed. He may have retrieved the map, but Nash was prouder that the box was happy.

Nash himself didn’t know where his talent with women came from. It never occurred to him that he was good with women because he treated each one of them like they were a rare treasure.

Fiction: The Guardian

Oct 132010
 

Nash Nighthammer was lost. It takes a brave hero to have the courage to try to break into the underground fortress of the Blazing Warlock but it took an even stronger man to admit he was lost. The finely crafted Dwarven tunnels all looked the same so Nash was almost happy when he discovered a tunnel lined with strange octagonal bricks. Thirty minutes later, he was regretting his choice as now he realized he was even more lost than before. He wasn’t even sure if he was anywhere near the Blazing Warlock’s lair anymore. For all he knew, he might be a miles away.

Nash set down his mighty warhammer and his lantern. He checked his oil and saw he had enough light for a few more hours. He next checked his provisions and saw he had enough salted meat to last a week. As for his water, he only had a day or two at the most. This was grim. Dying underground of thirst was not the Hero’s end he always imagined.

As he sat in the grim darkness of the tunnel, he thought he heard running water. He stood and began walking in the direction of the water. Walking past dozens of side tunnels and octagonal staircases, Nash followed the sound of water. If he could find an underwater spring, then he could make that his temporary home as he explored for an exit.

There was light up ahead. Nash smiled. Perhaps he might even find his way back to the Blazing Warlock’s lair!

The tunnel opened into a curious eight sided room. A great steel door dominated one of the walls. It was decorated with ancient sigils and bizarre writings that writhed as Nash looked at it. It was the very door that was glowing and providing the light that Nash saw.

“Halt!” a woman’s voice yelled. So spellbound was Nash by the mysterious steel door that he didn’t even see the woman who was standing to the side.

She was not a woman that people easily over looked. She was as tall as Nash and just as muscular. Despite her physical power, she still had round breasts and hips that could give birth to an army. Her skin was a pale white but she was decorated in strange red armor. The red metal partially decorated her body, clinging to her curves with what could only be magic. The metal was a most curious armor as it appeared to expose her breasts and sex but would protect her forearms, thighs and stomach. A red helmet obscured her face completely.

“Hail, warrior!” Nash said. “I am a Nash Nighthammer, a lost traveler who seeks-“

“The penalty for violating the Vault of the Ancients is death!” the warrior women interrupted. She raised a sword that was five feet in length.

“Oh!” Nash said. “My mistake. I was looking for the fortress of the Blazing Warlock. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait!” the woman said. “You have no interest in the treasures of the great Jelibonian race?”

“Not really,” Nash said.

“You have no greed for the emerald skulls of the odd beings who visited us from beyond the stars?”

“No, I’m good,” Nash said. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you have absolutely no interest in the great scrolls that detail how to travel through both time and space?”

“That sounds very nice but I am more of a warrior,” Nash said. “You can go on guarding that Vault. Good luck.”

“Wait a moment!” the woman said. She lowered her sword.

Nash sighed. “I really need to be going. You don’t need to worry about your vault.

The woman took off her helmet. Metallic gold hair fell free and framed her face. Her hair sparkled next to the light of the steel door. Her eyes were unusually large and the color of topazes. The golden hair could not hide the curious pointing of her ears.

“An Elf!” Nash said. “I thought your race was extinct.”

The woman nodded. “Most of us have traveled on to other worlds. In case they ever come back, they created this Vault to hold their possessions. I was chosen to be the Guardian and for many eons I have done just that.”

“Really?” Nash said. “How do you keep from starving? Or going insane? For that matter, how come you speak my language since you have been here for so long?”

“Elven magic,” the Guardian said. “But one thing Elven magic does not give me is satisfaction. I’m talking about sexual satisfaction.”

“Oh,” Nash said. “Well, I do have a Warlock to kill. I am also hopelessly lost and should really conserve my strength.”

“Wait please!,” the Guardian said. “I have no treasure to offer you and I myself have not left this room for ages, but I beg of you as a Hero to do this one quest for me. Ravish me Hero, I beg.”

Nash Nighthammer was a heartless killer in combat but when it came to the pleas of a woman, he was as soft as an innkeeper’s bosom. He set down his warhammer. “I apologize for not agreeing sooner. You are a woman in need and I will gladly do this quest for you.”

“Yes!” the Guardian squealed. She turned around and bent over. She braced her hands against the wall. “No need to seduce me, I crave fulfillment now!”

Luckily for the Guardian, Nash was already erect from looking at her lovely metal clad body. He took his manhood out from under his loincloth and approached her. He placed his cock at the parting between her thighs.

“Whoa!” the Guardian yelled. “What are you doing putting it there?”

“I thought you desired fulfillment?” Nash said.

“There?” the Guardian said. “By the Gods, is that how the primitives of the world have sex?” She was shaking with laughter. “No no, Elves derive pleasure through their asses. The fajika is only for sacred ceremonies.”

Nash smiled. The Ancient Elves were truly a sophisticated race. He placed his cock between the spheres of her firm buttocks and pushed. The Guardian’s ass slowly parted for his girth.

“Yes, yes, yes!” the Guardian yelled. “By the Gods! This is so much better than my sword hilt! Now ghonfo me like I was your dezziq!”

Nash didn’t understand her Elven terms but he understood her sentiment. He grabbed a hold of her armor clad hips and fucked her ass. He was impressed that she didn’t require any kind of lubrication and even more impressed how nice if felt to be inside her. This explained why the wise men often groaned about the lack of Elves in the world.

The Guardian shuddered with each thrust of Nash’s cock. She placed her face against the wall and moaned her pleasure. She grabbed one of her exposed nipples and twisted it cruelly. She hadn’t felt like this since the age of the Lizard Kings.

As for Nash, he found the tight ass of the Guardian to be a welcome distraction from the frustration of getting lost earlier. He stopped caring about dark caverns, hidden passages and blind alleys. The only dark tunnel he cared about was the one inside the Guardian’s ass.

“Harder, harder!” the Guardian cried. “Ghonfo me!”

Nash fucked faster. He pounded the firm ass of the Guardian with a fierce dedication. He couldn’t comprehend what life must be like for her. She protected the Vault for centuries with no company except for her sword. She was a Hero in the truest sense of the word and it was only right that he aided her anyway he could.

She also had an amazing ass for fucking.

“By the All-Mother!” the Guardian cried. “I am so close to Xetab! Pull my hair and call me your dezziq!”

Nash grabbed a handful of her gold metal hair. It was surprisingly soft in his hands. He wrapped her hair around his fist as she moaned louder.

“Take it, my dezziq!” Nash said. He hoped he had the pronunciation right.

“Yes!” the Guardian screamed. Her tight ass clenched even tighter as the rest of her body shook. She cried out a wail of pleasure that sounded like a chorus of divine voices.

Nash’s own climax was not nearly as mystical. With a grunt, his cock burst forth with seed deep in the Guardian’s ass. He groaned and let his cock drain inside her before pulling out.

“Thank you, brave hero,” the Guardian said. She purred as she fell to her knees. “That will last me another three centuries at least.”

“I am happy to help,” Nash said. “If that is all, I should really get back to finding the Blazing Warlock.”

“Wait,” the Guardian said. She stood up and walked over to the steel door. She placed her hand on the door and a bright flash occurred. The Guardian held a weird disc in her hand and she gave it to Nash.

“Here, imagine the place you are trying to find, and the Kaza Compass will direct you to the most direct passage.”

Nash gratefully accepted the compass. “Won’t the Ancients be upset with you giving me this treasure?”

The Guardian shrugged. “Ghonfo them. You earned it.”

Fiction: Sticky Shower

Aug 252010
 

Nash Nighthammer grunted with annoyance. He had heard that the Blood River was difficult to cross but this was ridiculous.

He watched as a flesh ripping Claw Eagle swooped down to skim the surface of the river. The bird was capable of ripping a man’s intestines out with its razor-sharp beak. It didn’t have a chance to use it’s beak as a crimson crocodile leaped out of the water and crunched the Claw Eagle with one bite. As the fearsome crocodile fell back towards the river, another terrible beast reached out of the water and caught the crocodile with its tentacles. The crocodile was ripped to pieces in the air and the bloody chunks fell into the water. Nash could only assume that the unknown beast was devouring the bits, unless it too was consumed by some other creature in the river.

This was a problem. Nash set down his mighty warhammer and debated. The wind coming off the Blood River was cool and refreshing but it also smelled of quite a few dead things.

Nash had taken this shortcut hoping to shave a week off his travel time. He thought he would cross the Blood River and be at the gathering of Heroes in time for the Dragon Hunt. If he turned back now and took the long way, he would miss the Hunt for sure. If he tried to wade through this horrible river, Nash was sure that he would only contribute to the grim food chain that played out here.

“Oh boy!” a small voice said. “Are you going to go get eaten? Can I have your hammer?”

Nash looked around for the voice. He looked down and saw a strange flying body looking up at him from below his waist. Barely eight inches tall, the creature appeared to be a naked woman floating on yellow butterfly wings. The small woman appeared to be looking up his loincloth.

“Hail, Fairy,” Nash said. “No, I do not intend to enter that river.”

The Fairy fluttered her beautiful yellow wings and came to eye level with Nash. She had long red hair that floated on its own magic. A tiny tuff of scarlet hair covered her sex. The proportions of her hefty bust and wide hips did not look aerodynamically possible but she flew with a delicate grace.

“My name is Raya,” she said. “I’m a Fairy.”

“Yes, I know,” he answered. “My name is Nash Nighthammer. I need to cross the river.”

Raya nodded. Nash noticed that it her breasts jiggled with each flutter of her wings. “I know. Humans are always going somewhere. They go back and forth across the river unless they go into the river and then they just die and get pooped out and then their poop bodies go down the river.”

Nash frowned at the mention of poop bodies. “How do people cross the river?”

Raya played with a strand of her floating red hair. She chewed on the end and appeared to be deep in thought. As she floated, she reached down and idly played with the hair covering her sex.

“They cross at the magic bridge,” she answered.

“Where is the magic bridge?” Nash asked gently.

“It is a secret!” Raya said. She spun around in the air so that her back was to him. Her cute tiny ass clenched for no good reason. “Would you like to know?”

“Yes, Raya,” Nash said. “Could you please tell me where the magic bridge is? I would really appreciate it.”

Raya turned back around. “Okay, I will tell you. But you have to pay my price.”

Nash was prepared for this. He carried a pack that he wore slung around his shoulder that carried supplies for just this occasion.

“Ah, would you like some pretty beads?” Nash asked. “Or perhaps a piece of chocolate from the distant lands across the sea? I think I have a silver coin in here somewhere.”

Raya shook her head. It made her breasts shake from side to side as well.

“I want a sticky shower. That is my price for showing you the magic bridge.”

“A sticky shower?” Nash said. “What is that?”

Raya rolled her eyes. “What are you, a virgin? Everyone knows what a sticky shower is!”

She floated down to his loincloth. “You take out your thingy and you stroke it. Spray me so I can bathe in it!”

“Uh, you don’t mean that I should pee on you, right?” Nash asked.

“Eww!” Raya said. “You’re thinking of Night Fairies! They love that. I want your man seed. It helps keep away wrinkles!”

“Fairies don’t get wrinkles,” Nash said.

“Duh!” Raya said. “This is why! Now whip it out! I want a sticky shower and I want it now!”

Nash looked around. He wasn’t sure if this was some sort of Fairy trick. All he saw was some bubbling from the Blood River as some terrible struggle happened beneath the surface of the water.

“As you wish,” Nash said. He lifted his loincloth and took his cock in hand. It was hard already from watching Raya’s naked form.

“Holy shit!” Raya cried. “You could kill a Unicorn with that thing!”

Nash grunted and started stroking.

“Here, I can help,” Raya said. She flew under his cock and wrapped her arms and legs around his cock. Her tiny breasts pressed into his hard flesh. The grip of her thighs and arms were surprisingly tight. A small amount of moisture pressed against him and he knew it came from between her legs.

The Fairy fluttered her wings and Nash groaned as she tugged on his cock. Up and down she pulled as arms and legs struggled to hold onto him. Her long red hair coiled around his length, adding a silky touch to the already seductive feel.

“Come on, Nash,” Raya yelled. “Shower me already!”

The Fairy kissed the head of his cock. Her small lips covered the crown of his penis with a hundred tapping kisses. Raya’s breasts were pressed flat against his cock and the hard nubs of her nipples were like delicate scratches on his skin.

Nash reached out and braced himself against a tree. The Fairy was good. He wondered how many other travelers had paid this toll. He then wondered how many come back just to pay the toll.

Raya pulled herself on top of his shaft. She wrapped her legs tightly around his cock and sat upright. Her wings pulled her body back and forth over his cock. Her sex left a damp trail over the length of his cock. Raya grabbed her tits and looked up at Nash.

“Are you ready to shower me yet?” she asked.

“Yes,” Nash groaned.

“Yay!” Raya said. She let go of Nash’s cock and fluttered down below him. She hovered in the air and spread her arms and legs wide.

“Sticky shower me!”

Nash looked down at her floating naked body. He looked into those sparklingly green eyes and the wide open smile of her lips. He looked at her pert tits and wished he could have gotten one lick. He thought about the dirty thing she wanted so badly from him.

He climaxed. He aimed his cock downward. Raya squealed with delight as his seed sprayed down to her. She closed her eyes opened her mouth as the seed fell on her. It landed in her hair, on her chest, in her mouth, on her legs, on her wings and when she turned around, he covered a good part of her ass too.

When Nash was done, the Fairy floated around him. She was rubbing his seed into every part of her skin.

“Good job!” Raya said. “I should give you a reward or something.”

“I’ll settle for directions to the magic bridge,” Nash said.

“Oh yeah!” Raya said. She clapped her hands together. A shimmering bridge appeared beside Nash. It led to the other side of the river.

“I’d hurry if I were you,” Raya said. “It only lasts till your seed dries.”

Nash scooped up his warhammer and started running. The bridge glowed with rainbow colors but it supported him. He could see down through the bridge and at the menacing shadows that prowled in the Blood River. He ran as fast as he could, his hard cock bouncing underneath his loincloth.

“Come back soon!” Raya called from the other side of the river.

Fiction: The Three Bards Part Two

May 192010
 

Nash Nighthammer waited by the stairs. The cellar was dark except for a single dim lantern. The air was cool but a regular gust of warm air would come from the other side of the cellar. From exploring earlier, Nash knew that was where the man sized hole in the wall was. Nash was pretty sure that the warm air was the breathing of the monster snake.

He gripped his warhammer and felt no fear. Sure, the snake was supposed to be terrible. Sure, the snake had devoured three people the last time it came out. Nash didn’t care. Monsters could be killed. Monsters could be smashed if you hit them enough times. The only thing to fear from a giant snake was death and Nash stopped being afraid of death a long time ago.

What worried Nash more were the three bard women upstairs. They expected Nash to choose one of them as a reward for slaying their monster. It was a good reward. He would be happy to bed any one of them. That wasn’t a problem.

What worried Nash was the feelings of the two bards he doesn’t pick. Nash Nighthammer could endure harsh elements, multiple stabs and dreadful supernatural creatures, but he had one weakness. He hated to hurt the feelings of women. He would sooner stab himself in the thigh than watch a woman feel rejected.

He patted his full stomach. The stew he had eaten was truly the best he had ever had. He thought of Rhian, the bard who had cooked the meal. He thought of her round hips, her plump ass and barrel sized breasts. Rhian had sung a song with her bells about a woman taken by the wind. She created cravings in him that mere food could not satisfy.

He gripped his warhammer and thought of Lita. She was a warrior bard, as equally skilled with a blade as she was with her lute. Lita had played a sad song while he waited for dark. It was a song of closing one’s eyes for the kiss of death. That was a woman who had seen horror but still had the lust for life.

He took a drink from a flask of water and thought of Dylie. The small dancer had performed for him in the crackling of the fireplace. The way she danced was so hypnotic, he couldn’t get her out of his head. She reminded him of everything that was joyous in the world and he wanted nothing more than run with her, hand in hand.

A hissing sound came from the other side of the cellar.

“Come to me, whoreson,” Nash said. He braced himself and lifted his warhammer. He looked forward to the simplicity of battle.

An hour later, Nash Nighthammer ascended from the basement. He was covered in sweat and quite a few snake parts. Gore dripped from his warhammer. He looked exhausted.

“Is it dead?” Dylie asked.

Nash nodded. “You have enough snake meat down there to feed you for a year.”

“Are you injured?” Lita asked.

He shook his head. “I just need to wash again and I will be fine. It has been a long day.”

“Well you certainly earned your bed tonight,” Rhian asked.

A pause hung in the air. This was the moment, perhaps more so than the actual death of the monster, that the three bards were waiting for.

“I certainly did,” Nash said. He wiped some snake blood from his forehead. “And I made my choice. I have decided that since I saved the inn for all three of you, that all three of you should warm my bed tonight.”

The bards looked at each other in confusion. For once, all of them were speechless.

“For right now, I am going upstairs to bathe again,” Nash said. “I expect to see all of three of you, or none at all.”

Nash climbed the stairs to his room. He was feeling quite cocky. Not only did he destroy a nasty beast, but he solved a dilemma with mature wisdom. Knowing women as well as he did, he was sure that the bards would realize how silly it was to compete with each other. If songs and stories were any guide, they would understand how close they came to ruining their friendship. Right now they are probably all getting drunk together in a surge of friendship.

Nash regretted that he would sleep alone tonight but he prided himself on solving a difficult problem. He couldn’t wait to brag about this to some other bard so they can record his wisdom. He was a strong warrior, but he wished more people knew how smart he was.

He thought about this as he bathed. Lucky for him, snake blood cleans rather easily. In no time at all he was clean enough for bed.

There was a knock at the door. Before Nash could open, in came the three bards. He was a little disturbed by how they were smiling.

“You are correct, Nash,” Lita said. “It should be all or nothing.”

“Thank you for showing us that we are stronger in harmony than when we are singing alone,” Rhian said.

“So we decided that all of us would fuck your brains out,” Dylie said.

“All-Mother’s tits,” Nash muttered. There would be no sleep for him yet.

Lita came for him first. She walked right up to him and grabbed him by the back of his head. Her mouth kissed him hard, pushing her tongue inside his mouth without fear or modesty. He grabbed her back. His fingers enmeshed themselves in her wild blonde hair. Their mouths battled in a war with no loser.

She pushed him away, gasping for air. He was about to pull her back in when another touched his face. He turned just in time to greet Rhian’s mouth sealing over his. Lita released her embraced so that Nash could put his arms around the voluptuous curves of Rhian. While he explored with his hands, she devoured his mouth with an insatiable passion.

Rhian broke the kiss, licking her lips. Nash turned to the bard that he knew was waiting for him. Dylie leapt into his arms with a dancer’s grace. He held her easily in his arms as she pressed her mouth to his. Her tongue danced in his mouth, twisting and pushing with a skill he didn’t think possible.

As he held Dylie, Nash felt his loincloth ripped from his body. Kisses rained on his cock from two mouths. Tongues licked while lips nibbled all along his length. As Dylie took his breathe away from his mouth, the other two bards breathed new life into his cock with their lips.

Rhian was the first to take his cock inside her mouth. She took all of him between her lips and down her throat. He felt her bodice covered breasts press against his thighs as she consumed him. Down, down, down his cock went into her throat and Nash was stunned by how much she could take of him. Her tongue licked every inch of him as he went in.

He wondered where Lita was when he felt a lapping against his balls. The strong bard was surprisingly gentle as her tongue licked such a sensitive area. Her fingernails were not so kind as they bit deeply into Nash’s thighs. He didn’t mind them though. A tongue like Lita’s was worth a little pain.

With Dylie still in his arms, he broke the kiss. She looked at him with disappointment until he reached for the neckline of her dress. Holding her small body in one hand, he ripped the dress from her with the other. She laughed as he manhandled her clothes. Nash almost lost himself in her laughing eyes.

Almost. He turned his attention to her tender breasts. They were so small compared to his hungry mouth. He pulled her chest to his mouth and nibbled feircley at her breasts. Her pink nipples were like candy to him and he sucked as greedily as Rhian was sucking at his cock.

As Nash gorged on Dylie’s delicate breasts, Rhian was allowing Lita her turn. Nash shivered as he felt his cock engulfed by the blonde bard. She couldn’t take as much of him as Rhian could, but she made up for it with a powerful suction. She gripped the base of his cock like she was wielding a sword. Her head bobbed up and down on his cock with the fury of a storm.

Nash groaned. He tossed Dylie’s body to the bed. She laughed as she flew through the air. He wasn’t surprised when she landed on her back with her legs open.

“Enough!” Nash said. “All of you, into bed now”

Rhian stripped off her dress and happily climbed into the bed. Lita pulled off her bodice and kicked off her warrior’s boots. She then went to work unlacing her leather pants.

Nash couldn’t wait for her. He jumped into bed and tackled Rhian’s body. She squealed like a farmer’s daughter as Nash grabbed a handful of her breasts. Her pale skin was seasoned with lovely freckles. Nash suckled on her nipple with a growl. No matter how much he bit and sucked, there was always more breast to taste. Rhian moaned and pressed herself to him, happy to feed his appetites.

He felt kisses go down his spine. Shivers traveled his body as Dylie’s tongue skipped along his skin. Her small mouth kissed down to his ass while he gorged on Rhian’s breasts. Her fingers joined in, pinching and scratching his hard body. When reached his ass, he was shocked to feel her teeth on his bottom. Her gentle bites made his cock surge. The dimunitive dancer was full of surprises.

The bed groaned as Lita joined the pile. She pushed her way back to Nash’s cock. She took him back into her mouth. She stroked his cock furiously, as if trying to spill his seed while she sucked on his head.

Dylie’s bites on his ass worked in a sensual harmony with Lita’s sucking of his cock. The bites sent tingles down up his cock while Lita’s tongue licked with a fierce passion. His hips thrust back and forth between the two mouths.

Nash lifted his head from Rhian’s plentiful breasts. “Lita, I must return the favor of your mouth.” He flipped over onto his back. “I demand the chance to give you my own song.”

“Be careful what you demand,” Lita said but there was laughter in her eyes.

She climbed his body like a cat. Nash watched as heavy breasts swayed back and forth. Her wild hair was in her face but the hair between her legs was wilder. She straddled his face and Nash grabbed her ass to pull her down onto him.

She tasted glorious. He drank from her over flowing desire. The sounds of crying out made his cock swell. His tongue moved radily to see what other songs he could make her sing.

A small weight settled on him and then his cock was engulfed in pleasure. His moans were stifled by Lita’s sex. Dylie’s cunt gripped him tightly with a dancer’s strength. Her thighs embraced him as she began to move. He didn’t need to see her dance to know it was beautiful. His cock told him every movement she made.

Lita was doing a dance of her own. She gripped his hair and fucked his mouth. Nash was up the challenge. He used his tongue like a hammer, pounding away at her sex. He breathed when he was able. All that matter to him was the bard’s pleasure.

Well, that and the wonderful dance Dylie was doing on his cock.

With one bard on his face and another on his cock, he wondered where Rhian was. He wondered no more as he felt his hand pulled away from Lita’s ass. His fingers were pressed against a wet sex and Nash knew where Rhian was. She pressed his fingers inside her and Nash felt her heat. Slick with desire, she opened easily for his thick fingers. Rhian’s cries joined Lita’s and Dylie’s in a chorus.

Lita’s thighs clenched around Nash and he knew. He flicked his tongue as fast as possible. His entire body was a testament to his power and that included his tounge. He licked Lita to a body shaking orgasm and did not stop she fell exhausted from his body.

Lita collapsed to the side of the bed. “Your tongue was like a shot of poison,” she laughed. “I can barely move.”

“Oh, I can still move,” Nash said. He sat up with Dylie still on his cock. The redhead giggled as he flipped her over onto the bed. He grabbed both of her ankles and spread her lovely legs wide. He knelt between her legs and pulled her body against his cock.

“Shake your love,” Dylie taunted.

“I will,” Nash said. His face still slick with Lita’s desire, he leered down on her body. His hips bucked and he fucked her. He might not be a dancer, but he was a warrior and he had battle armies for hours. Thrusting into a tight sex would be easy but no less fierce.

Dylie cried out as his hips picked up speed. In and out, in and out, his cock hammered into her. He shook her entire body with the power of his thrusts. His grip on her ankles was like iron, keeping her spread for the fucking. Within moments, his cock was a blur inside of her.

Rhian came over to Nash. She kneeled beside him as he thrusted. Her arms went around him as she nibbled at his ear. Her plump body a welcome incentive as he thrusted faster.

Even Lita was moved by his actions. The exhausted bard reached between her legs and continued what his tongue had started. She couldn’t match Nash’s cock in girth but she certainly matched him in speed.

Dylie cried out her orgasm. It was a high scream of joy and wonder. She pulled at her pert breasts as the pleasure swept through her. Her scream of pleasure degenerated into a babbling of some kind of bliss.

Nash pulled out and turned to Rhian. Outside the rain had started to fall. He had no words for her. He was too filled with lust for all three of them for witty comments. He just wanted.

He pushed her down to the bed. Freckled thighs part for him. His cock slipped into her and they moaned in unison. Her red hair fanned out behind her like a sunrise. He pushed deep into her, watching her breasts jiggle in response.

Nash fucked Rhian. His powerful hard body rubbed on top of her deliciously soft body. His broad chest crushed her plump breasts. His strong thighs pushed against her warm legs. His hard cock pushed into her soft sex. Their bodies became a fusion of legs, hands and motion.

They were not alone. Lita crawled over and offered her breast for Nash’s lips. He eagerly took her offering, sucking on her erect nipple. Dylie found the will to move and crawled over to behind Nash. He felt her hand on his balls. It would take a dancer to be able to gently cup his balls and keep pace with his thrusts. Her gently fingers stroked him to faster speeds inside Rhian.

Rhian climaxed. The rain outside grew louder and her scream of joy was taken by the wind. The other bards sang with her, adding their moans to Rhian’s to form a song so beautiful that it almost made Nash weep.

Instead of weeping, he climaxed instead. His cock erupted into Rhian’s sex. Dylie’s gentle stroking urged him to empty his balls while Lita’ smothered his gasping mouth with her breasts. Embraced by the three bards, he pumped ntil every drop of his seed was gone.

The four stopped moving. Bodies shifted to get more comfortable until there was a tangled web of legs, arms, breasts and cock. Lust flared from time to time, resulting in something being sucked or something getting groped. For the most part, they were content to nestle within the heat of each other.

Nash drifted to sleep while someone tried to lick his cock back to life.

As beds went, Nash thought this one was very well warmed.

Fiction: The Three Bards Part One

May 122010
 

Nash Nighthammer stood in the middle of the street. The small town he was passing through had two inns. He had traveled far this day and his mighty warhammer was starting to get a bit heavy on his shoulders. The sun was fading and he had a rumbling in his stomach. Clouds were gathering and he knew it would rain tonight. He needed a place to sleep for the night but he also had an itch for adventure. Inns were a perfect place to discover new friends, encounter old men with older maps and a flirty barmaid or two.

On the left, the Frothy Mug looked busy and bustling. The stable beside it was so full that some of the horses were outside. Singing could be heard from the open windows and the smell of good beer wafted through the air.

On the right, the Three Bards looked deserted and abandoned. The paint on the sign was new but the stable beside it was as empty as Nash’s stomach. A lonely wisp of smoke came from the chimney and no sounds of merriment came from the windows.

Nash Nighthammer was many things. He was a fearsome warrior. He was a brave hero. To many farmers he was a source of great concern when it came to their daughters. One thing most people didn’t know about Nash was at heart he was as curious as a cat. It wasn’t a hard choice for him at all.

He walked into deserted inn. He expected the place to be dark but lanterns were lit all around the spacious common room. It was also remarkably clean as if someone had spent all day tidying the empty area.

“Hail!” a voice called from behind a bar. A large woman was furiously rubbing away at a stain. The vigor of her actions made her ample chest quake within her bodice. Her faint blonde hair was pinned back behind her head but a wisp had escaped her ponytail and fell across her cheek like a sparkle of sunlight.

“Hail, innkeeper!” Nash said. “I am Nash Nighthammer, and I seek lodgings for the night and I wasn’t sure if the place was closed.”

The large woman stopped her battle with the stain. “The same Nash Nighthammer who was at the battle of Northern Pass?”

“Yes,” Nash said. He found her voice to be soothing and lyrical.

“The same Nash Nighthammer who killed the Snow Beast this year?”

“I brought his head in, yes,” Nash said.

“The same Nash Nighthammer from the song, “Lock Your Daughter Behind a Strong Door?”

“Well, yes,” Nash admitted. The hard warrior’s face turned a deep red.

“Thank the Gods!” the woman said. “My name is Rhian. Me and my two partners run this inn but ever since we opened, we have been plagued with a dreadful monster.”

Nash smiled. A dread monster would make an excellent end to this day. Looking at Rhian’s ample womanhood, he also had a reward in mind that would suit him quite well. He sat at the bar and rested his warhammer. “Tell me more.”

“We bought this inn from an old man,” Rhian said. “He sold it to us for only two gold pieces. At the time, we thought he was just happy to be rid of the place. He left town and we never saw him again.”

“Never buy from an old man who leaves town,” Nash said.

“I know!” Rhian said. “That is what Dylie said! That first night we discovered why he sold it for so cheap. Up from the cellar came a horrible snake. It broke down our cellar door and crawled into guest rooms. It ate a plump merchant, his servant and a whore he had rented for the night. Me and my partners watched in horror as the bloated snake crawled back into the cellar and down a dark hole.”

“That would be bad for business,” Nash said.

“Damn right!” a voice said behind him.

“This is one of my partners,” Rhian said. “Nash Nighthammer, meet Lita, the finest lute player I have ever met.”

Nash turned to face the bard. Lita was tall with long wild blonde hair. Where Rhian was plump from the joys of live, Lita was hard and firm from the toils of adventure. She had the sharp eyes of a woman who has had great adventures and lived to sing about them. Her handshake was firm and Nash had no doubt that the woman had already tried to kill the snake.

“Hail, Lita,” Nash said. He had a sudden image of this woman riding his cock like he was a stallion.

“Hail, Nash,” Lita said. “I hope Rhian made it clear how fierce this snake was. He had black scales as hard as chainmail. Fangs the size of daggers broke my sword in two. I tried to sing a Death Song at it but the cursed heart of the monster was able to resist my magic.”

Nash nodded. “I am sure if it could be killed by song magic, the two of you would be able to slay it.”

A hard slap fell on his back. “This one recognizes talent!” Rhian said.

“Someone should have told me we had a customer!” This came from a woman coming down the stairs. She had short black hair that framed a pixyish face. Her entire body was small and she barely came up to Nash’s chest. She didn’t walk down the stairs as much as she floated. Nash knew at once that she was a dancer of great skill.

“This must be Dylie,” Nash said. “Hail, I am Nash Nighthammer.”

Dylie smiled as she heard his name. “The same Nash Nighthammer who fucked the Giantess of Jakan.”

Nash winced. “I merely soothed her so she wouldn’t harm the farmers in the area.”

Dylie laughed. “I am sure,” she winked.

“Nash has come to help defeat the snake in our cellar,” Rhian said. “We haven’t discussed his payment yet.”

“A warm bed and a hot plate of food will be payment enough,” Nash said. “I am happy to help.”

“Rhian makes the best stew in the land,” Dylie said. “As for the warm bed, you can have your choice of beds.”

Nash wasn’t sure if Dylie was being as a flirty as she sounded with that last bit. Knowing bards though, it would be a sure thing.

“It is a deal,” he said carefully. “I shall eat and then I shall stand vigil in the cellar. First though, I would like to wash. All I need is a warm bucket of water and some soap.”

“I shall warm it up for you now,” Rhian said. “Why don’t one of you show him to his room?”

“I shall,” Dylie said quickly.

“It is your turn to bring in the firewood,” Lita said. “I shall take him to his room.”

The small bard sighed. “You are right,” she said. She turned to Nash. “Did you know that I was so skilled with the flute that I once charmed an entire army of goblins?”

“Really? I think I had heard of that,” Nash said.

“Maybe later I can show you my flute playing,” Dylie said.

Nash nodded. Yes, this bard was definitely flirting. As she danced out of the room, he imagined exactly the kind of flute playing she had in mind.

“Follow me,” Lita said.

Nash pushed the thought of the impish bard aside as he followed Lita up the stairs. The woman had a scar on her shoulder from a knife. The way she carried her hips told him that she had carried a sword for many years. As for her bottom, all he learned from watching it was how nice it would be to grab with both of his hands.

Lita opened the first door beside the stairs. Together they walked into a spacious room with a large bed. A small table was to the side as well as a large chamber pot. It had all the comforts of home.

Nash set his warhammer down and sat on the bed. Lita picked up his warhammer and gave it a test swing. To his surprise, she barely struggled with the weight.

“This is truly a mighty weapon,” Lita said. She set it back down. “It must be exhausting to wield it in battle. How do you not get tired?”

“A lot of practice,” Nash said. “In the heat of battle, one does what one has to.”

Lita nodded. “It is the same in love making, isn’t it? One does what one has to do. Even if it takes hours and hours.”

Nash tried to casually move his arm over his loincloth to hide the rapidly rising cloth.

“That is true as well.”

“Hours and hours,” Lita said. She looked at him with the hunger of a wolf. “I shall leave you to rest before your duties tonight.”

When the door closed, Nash leaned back against the bed. He thought about Lita’s strength and power. He thought about Dylie and her skills at dancing and playing the flute. He thought about Rhian and her abundant beauty.

A knock came from the door. Before he could answer, Rhian was already entering with a large bucket of water. Her face was flushed from carrying the bucket up the stairs. Nash had a feeling he would see that same flush if they were to fuck.

“Here you go,” Rhian said. “I must admit, I thought only bards bathed on a regular basis. Most warriors think of it as unhealthy.”

“I have been instructed on the virtues of bathing by many wise women,” Nash said.

Rhian smirked. “I bet they did.” She looked over his muscular body, his long black hair and his broad shoulders.

“Would you like some assistance bathing?”

“Nay,” Nash said. “I am still learning and I must keep at it so I can learn how to do it properly. I thank you though.”

“Oh well, perhaps it is for the best,” Rhian said. “You haven’t earned your reward yet,” she laughed.

Nash laughed with her but after she left, he wasn’t laughing any more. As a hero of a hundred adventures, he was used to rewards of a carnal nature. He just wasn’t used to having such a bounty to choose from. It was a vexing problem indeed.

“Look on the bright side,” he said to himself. “This fucking snake might kill me and save me the trouble of choosing.”

To be concluded

Fiction: Crimson Kate

Feb 102010
 

“I think I can take her,” Turnik said.

Nash Nighthammer grunted. He had had this conversation with seven other heroes this week. This was turning into the longest journey to fight an evil warrior, ever.

“What makes you think you can win, when so many before you have failed?” Nash asked.

Turnik smiled. Nash could read the madness in the thief’s eye. It was the same madness that allowed Turnik to rob the left horn of the Great Dragon itself. For Turnik, no goal was too audacious for him to try.

“Just look at her!” Turnik said, as if it explained it all.

Nash looked at the woman in question. She was walking ahead of the rest of party through the enchanted woods. Her name was Crimson Kate and she was truly a great beauty. Rich red hair fell about her bare shoulders and her nearly bare back. Great mounds of voluptuous joy filled the cups of her chainmail bikini. The ripe curves of her buttocks were in plain view because of the skimpiness of her chainmail thong. Crimson Kate was worth dying for.

“Tunik, you are daring but you are not a fool,” Nash said. “Crimson Kate is a Sister of the Chainmail; a warrior order of women so confident in their abilities that they only wear the most vulnerable of armor in order to taunt their enemies. Her breasts developed at the age of fourteen and at the age of fifteen she took a vow that no man may have her unless they defeat her in combat. In ten years, no one has ever claimed that honor. Rumor has it that her hair was originally black but the blood of her would-be suitors has dyed her hair red Do not become another notch on her sword.”

Turnik sighed. “Did you see the fight yesterday? Bart the Mighty challenged her to a duel.”

“Aye,” Nash said. “And we wasted an hour of travel time just so Crimson Kate could cut off his hand. Now he will be known as Bart the Mighty One-Handed.”

Turnik snorted. “If I was down to one hand I am sure it would become mighty indeed.”

Nash laughed. “And the day before that, Pendrick the Swift became Pendrick the Still Fast But Walks With a Limp.”

“I never saw anyone get kicked in the nuts so hard that it lifted him off his feet,” Turnik said.

“And the day before that, Kelak the Dwarf lost an eye, a gold tooth and his dignity.”

Turnik sighed. “Crimson Kate is eliminating more of this party then the forest goblins.”

“Exactly!” Nash shouted a little too loudly. “We are on a great quest to destroy a wicked Warrior of Darkness! Let’s save our energy for that instead of lining up to get castrated by one woman!”

“Agreed!” Crimson Kate yelled back. The entire adventurer party erupted in laughter.

“Maybe you’re right,” Turnik whispered. “But still, look at her!”

Later that night, Nash was forced to look at her as another member of their party challenged Crimson Kate to a duel. This time it was the priest, Vip the Holy. At first Nash thought Vip was challenging Crimson Kate in some misguided attempt to quiet her influence on the party. After seeing Vip’s eyes follow Crimson Kate’s breasts more than her sword, he suspected otherwise.

Crimson Kate was merciful this time and merely broke his shield arm. The duel was called off and their overworked apothecary administered to the less than holy priest. To Nash’s surprise, Crimson Kate walked straight over to Nash.

“You watch every duel,” the tall redhead said to him.

“We all do,” Nash said.

“No, they watch my ass and my tits,” Crimson Kate said. “You watch how I fight. Are you scouting me out, warrior?”

“Tits and ass are nice,” Nash said. “But your fighting is truly beautiful. I have never seen one as good as you.”

Crimson Kate scowled. “Flattery has never defeated me either.”

Nash sighed. “Sleep well, warrior.”

He turned around and went to his spot under a tree. Nash didn’t look back. He didn’t see the look of confusion on Crimson Kate’s face.

The next morning, Crimson Kate walked beside Nash.

“I was once challenged by three princes in a single day,” Crimson Kate said. “They offered me wealth, power and titles if I would but bed them. I refused them and then they challenged me. Now I hear that they had to find a fourth brother to father an heir to throne.”

Nash chuckled but did not comment.

“A being from the stars visited me one night,” Crimson Kate said. “He said he had traveled the world but I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He told me a poem he composed that was five hundred lines long. When he drew a flaming sword, I thought he would have me for sure but I beheaded him. Now there is one less star in the heavens.”

Nash glanced at the sky as if looking for the missing star but he did not comment.

“I was courted by a unicorn once,” Crimson Kate said. “It tried to mount me in a secluded glade and I was force to geld the magnificent beast.”

At that, Nash laughed but he did not comment.

That afternoon, Turnik couldn’t resist any longer.

“Today is your lucky day!” Turnik said to Crimson Kate. “I challenge you to a duel! Today I make you a woman!”

The party stopped and cleared an area for the duel. Turnik prepared himself by chugging an entire flask of ale. Crimson Kate prepared by sharpening her sword.

Nash Nighthammer walked up to her and spoke for the first time that morning. “Please spare him,” he whispered. “He is a fool, but he is a friend and I know he can steal the codpiece from the Dark Warrior if we let him.”

Crimson Kate looked at her sword. The way she slid the sharpening stone along the length of the blade made her breast almost jiggle out of the chainmail bikini. Almost.

“What if I say no? Would you fight me to protect him?”

“No,” Nash said. “I would not fight you.”

Crimson Kate looked at him with her beautiful green eyes. The look on her face was pure scorn. “Are you a coward, Nash Nighthammer?”

“No,” Nash said. “I just don’t fight my friends. And neither should you.”

The duel was fast. Turnik was a trickster and agile but his attempt to get dirt in her eyes failed miserably. So did his poisoned dart as well as his concealed knife. To the surprise of the rest of the party, Crimson Kate merely disarmed him and pressed her sword to his throat till he quit.

Some members of the party whispered that she spared him because she found his roguish good looks attractive. When they offered this opinion to Nash, he merely nodded in agreement. For some reason, Turnik thought the theory was rubbish.

As night fell, Crimson Kate approached Nash Nighthammer as he selected his tree for the night.

“Nash, I did as you asked,” Crimson Kate said.

“And I thank you,” Nash said.

“I have a boon to ask of you,” Crimson Kate said. “Will you walk with me?”

Nash didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Crimson Kate led him deeper into the forest. The rest of the party was too busy tending to their wounded and preparing for camp. Nash could smell the cooking of rations as they walked into the trees.

“Here,” Crimson Kate said. She sat on a fallen tree log and pointed to the other end of the log for Nash to sit down.

Nash sat down facing her. Crimson Kate placed her sword between them. He placed his warhammer on the ground beside himself.

“I took a vow,” Crimson Kate said. “No man may have me unless the defeat me in battle.”

“I will not fight you,” Nash said.

“I know,” Crimson Kate said. “I did not take a vow of chastity.”

The brave warrior woman did not elaborate. Nash waited until he realized that he saw something on Crimson Kate’s face that he never thought he would see. It was fear.

“A vow of chastity is different from allowing no man to have you,” Nash said carefully. “In fact, I think not having a vow of chastity would make the other vow easier.”

Crimson Kate nodded. Her beautiful red hair fell in front of her face. Nash suspected that she was happy for the cover.

“If you wish,” she said quietly, “I would like your company for what I am about to do.”

“I would like that,” Nash said.

Crimson Kate’s face blushed as red as her blood soaked hair. Without saying another word, she released the clasp that hung from the center of her chainmail bra. The cups fell open to reveal the freckled beauty beneath.

“You know, I always thought the chainmail would chaff the skin,” Nash said.

“They would but the Sisters of the Chainmail have their armor made by a talented hermit who uses magic metals,” Crimson Kate said.

Nash looked at the magnificent breasts. The nipples were a pale pink color that merged into the paleness of her skin. Each breast was pert and firm despite their size. He wondered if that too was due to the magic of the metals.

Crimson Kate continued to undress. She rose slightly from the log to undo the clasp on her chainmail bottom. The bush of hair she revealed was just as fiery as her name. Nash saw that her hair was already damp.

“Your cock,” Crimson Kate said. “Let me see it.”

Nash pushed aside his loincloth. His manhood pointed at her, eager to bury itself in her forbidden crimson.

She looked down at his cock and smiled. The warrior woman reached between her legs and started to stroke herself. She was fierce with her ministrations. Her fingers pushed at herself roughly, attacking the folds of her sex with the same fury that she fought with.

Nash watched with wonder. He had seen women pleasure themselves before but never a woman like Crimson Kate. Her mouth growled with pleasure and rage. Her muscular thighs clenched the side of the log with fearsome power. Her torso gyrated like a skilled fencer. The way she put her entire body into it made her heavy breasts bounce constantly. She shook her head back and forth till she was surrounded by a halo of fire.

Nash was perfectly still except for his breathing. He didn’t want to disturb her at all. He knew what he was watching was rare and a single wrong move could result in a fight. Worse, it would result in Crimson Kate stopping and he didn’t want to be responsible for that.

Crimson Kate’s fierce eyes locked on Nash. “Stroke yourself,” she said.

Nash frowned.

“Stroke yourself, please,” Crimson Kate said. “As one friend would for another.”

Nash smiled. He gripped his cock with his hand and started to stroke. Normally he would need to spit to lubricate himself but watching Crimson Kate had fired his desires. If anything, he was going to have a problem holding off his climax.

Crimson Kate had no such trouble. With her eyes focused on Nash’s cock, her fingers attacked her sex with increased passion. She plunged her fingers deep into her sex with rugged thrusts. Her pale white thighs opened wider and wider. With her other hand, she grabbed her breast and squeezed deep of her soft flesh.

“Ah!” Crimson Kate cried out. Her body shook with the force of her orgasm.

Nash couldn’t hold back. His cock released and sent forth a shower of seed towards Crimson Kate. Nash watched with amusement as his seed landed on one of Crimson’s Kate’s breasts. His amusement faded as Crimson Kate looked down on the mess he made.

“I mean no offense,” he said.

Crimson Kate smirked at him. He was struck by how girlish her smirk made her appear.

“That might be the closest anyone has ever come to getting past my defenses,” she said.

Nash couldn’t hold back as he laughed. Crimson Kate joined him. The two friends laughed in the safety of each other.

“We should head back to camp,” Crimson Kate said.

“Agreed,” Nash said. “And may I ask a boon of you again?”

“Anything,” Crimson Kate said.

“Can you not cripple any more of our fellow adventurers till after we defeat the Dark Warrior?” he asked.

“That is a fair request,” she said. “Though I will be in a better mood for their challenges if we were to repeat this every night.”

“That is a fair trade,” Nash said.

Final Push

Jan 082010
 

This coming week I plan to finish the manuscript for ‘Prisoner of the Wizard’s Harem’. I am gripped with fear and anxiety. When I post a normal story on my blog, I can fix any errors that readers point out. When I make a book for people to purchase I really don’t want to have any errors that makes people regret spending money.

Compounding that fear is the fact that is no ordinary book. There are 320 choices with 320 entries to go to. If you are fucking a Vampire and need to turn to entry 120, it shouldn’t talk about the sex you are having with a Mermaid. That was am actual error that was discovered. My playtesters sent me a bunch of errors and when I did the Great Choice Mapping on paper, I found about a dozen more. I did a second Great Choice Mapping expecting it to be flawless and I found four errors. The damn thing should be perfect now but I have this nagging suspicion that it isn’t.

I also need to format it for publishing. When printed it out I realized that page numbers of some sort would be awesome. A lot of the entries are a single paragraph, so when you turn to a choice, you don’t turn to that page. You turn to that numbered entry. A page could have as few as one entry on it or up to five. I need to make headers for the pages so that when you are looking for choice 221, you can flip and scan the top corner of the pages instead of the page itself.

And because I am a literary masochist I am going to have a character sheet inside the book for you to photocopy. I suspect that like me, many of you will just use a scrap of notebook paper to keep track of your loot and sex but hey, I want to do this right.

I don’t have exact notes handy but I estimate I have spent over 6 months working on this damn thing. In a lot of ways this has become my defining work for who I am right now. Sex, fantasy, humor, sarcasm, gruesome deaths and fucked up ideas are all in this book. That is pure Shon Richards right there. I just want to get it right.

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