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This chapter was written by him, so here's a big thanks! If this series interests you and you're a writer, feel free to send me a PM and sign up for a chapter! ^_^\n\nTéana and Saria go to a market... Too bad Téa's jinx strikes and wreaks chaos.... \t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Thanks so much to \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tJustLurking\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tJustLurking\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
for being the first author in the Hexes and Heroes Round Robin! This chapter was written by him, so here's a big thanks! If this series interests you and you're a writer, feel free to send me a PM and sign up for a chapter! ^_^

Téana and Saria go to a market... Too bad Téa's jinx strikes and wreaks chaos.... \t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t", "writing": "[center][b]Hexes and Heros: To Market, to market…[/b]\nby [name]JustLurking[/name][/center]\n\n“How can you stand the heat Saria?” A panting, dripping Téana asked her companion, as they walked side by through Sanuman’s bustling main market.\n\n“Mmm?” Saria raised an eyebrow, as if not understanding the question.\n\n“Don’t play games Sar.” Téa gasped. “I’m dying of heat stroke in just my leathers, but you’re hardly breaking a sweat in that heavy robe of yours. How do you do it?”\n\n“Mage’s Secret I’m afraid Téa.” Saria said enigmatically.\n\n“Come on, spill it.” Téa insisted.\n\nSaria smiled, slightly sheepishly, “I cast Water Elemental Burst with a Shadow modifier.”\n\n“I’ve seen you cast that, it lets you freeze anything in a metres reach, right?” Téa asked, not understanding Saria’s reluctance.\n\n“At level one.” Saria agreed, “At level two it’s two metres, at three it’s four, and so on.”\n\n“So?” Téa asked, still oblivious.\n\n“I cast it at level one-sixteenth.” Seeing that Téa was still confused, Saria spelled it out for her, “Which has just enough distance and power to chill my underwear.”\n\n“You…” Téa broke down in a fit of giggles, forcing her to lean on her companion, and drawing strange looks from passers by, “I don’t suppose you could cast that on me could you?” She asked when she eventually recovered her breath.\n\n“’Fraid not Téa.” The cheetah mage said regretfully, “Unless you were hugging me the whole time I’d have to cast level one and that’d turn you into a Téa-cicle.”\n\n“It wouldn’t be so bad if they’d built these damn streets level.” Téa grumbled good naturedly. “Hiking up and down these hills is killing me.”\n\nSanuman was a large city in the hilly regions near Lanreal Kingdom’s south-eastern border. The whole city was a mess of small, twisty, slanted streets packed to bursting with fursons from all walks life. The principal materials used in sun-baked Sanuman’s construction were stones, clays and muds. The dust was pervasive, and the smell of it was everywhere.\n\nTéa and Saria had arrived at dusk the previous evening, just before the city gates closed. They’d gone directly to the guild building where they had signed in, enjoyed a hearty supper, a good night’s sleep, and, most importantly, handed over the necklace of Sinbana. The guild house had, as usual, advanced the reward money—minus the guild’s cut—for Téa and Saria, and arranged for the necklace to be couriered to it new home in a museum by the next available D-rank team.\n\nWith their debts settled, their accounts squarely in the black and their purses much heavier, the girls had decided to stay in Sanuman a few days and do some re-tooling before taking their next mission.\n\n“The hills aren’t that bad Téa.” Saria countered, “Look none of the locals have any problem with it.”\n\n“Well I do.” Téa stuck out her tongue at her friend, “I can honestly say I’ve been in dungeons which were easier to navigate.”\n\n“You exaggerate too mu…Ooooh!” A stall selling grimoires caught Saria’s eye. She pounced on the nearest book and started fingering it possessively. The stall owner just smiled, secure in the knowledge that he was going to make a sale.\n\n“Sar! Sar!” Téa tried to re-obtain her friend’s attention. “Okay,” she sighed as she realised that it was futile, “I know it’s useless to try and tare you away from your books when you get started. I’ll be over there looking for provisions, all right?” She gestured at a stall slightly down hill.\n\n“M’kay.” Saria said distractedly, already nose-deep in the table of contents.\n\nTéa frowned, and put her hands on her hips, “…I think I’ll spend your money too while I’m at it.”\n\n“Sounds good.” Saria said as she tried out one of the hand-wiggles described in the magical tome.\n\nTéa sighed again, and slouched off. If Saria was true to form, she would probably be distracted for the best part of twenty minutes examining the books before she decided on the ones she wanted.\n\nTéa looked at the market. It was typical of most that she had seen in her travels. Stalls and their owners lined both sides of the cramped streets, selling all the goods that the good furson’s of Sanuman needed, and quite a lot of cheep and tacky tat that they didn’t. Many of the stalls were decorated with yellow and blue ribbons, for reasons that Téa didn’t immediately grasp. She supposed it might be a ‘local-thing’. Around the stalls the inhabitants of Sanuman went about their lives. Locals, tourists, adventurers, shopkeepers and the odd guard all ceaselessly milling about the street. She sighed again—she’d probably really like Sanuman if only it wasn’t for the heat and the damn hills.\n\nTéa focused her attention on the stall in front of her. It was selling food stuffs, both perishable and longer lasting. She smiled as she started picking out supplies for Saria and herself. As a swordsman Téa’s metabolism was in high gear. She burned carbs almost as fast as she could consume them. Saria, on the other hand, only had to look at a slice of cake to put on weight.\n\nThe situation was almost funny. Saria would start out every mission insisting she would stick to her diet, but she would break after a few days of watching Téa wolf down her sugary meals, and they would start sharing their rations. After every mission, Saria would regret the weight she had put on, and the cycle would repeat. The joke of it was that Saria’s constant on-again-off-again diet meant that her weight never varied more then a stone in either direction anyway.\n\nTéa’s musing was interrupted by the sound of approaching chanting.\n\nShe looked up from the stall just in time to see a procession of monks turn the corner onto the street. They were clad, head to toe, in blue and yellow robes, and ambled forward slowly, mumbling a solemn plain chant as they went. Their faces were covered and bowed, leaving Téa with no clue as to their species.\n\nBehind the lead monks was a horse drawn cart. The cart was old and rickety looking, but had been decorated loving in the same blue/yellow colours that the monks wore. Tied to the cart, by two heavy looking ropes, was a large crystal ball, about ten feet wide, which was so clear that Téa initially thought it was glass.\n\n“Who’re they?” Téa asked turning to the stall owner, a cheerful looking fennec vixen in her fifties.\n\n“They’re from the ascensionist temple,” the shopkeeper replied, “in the square at the top of the hill.”\n\n“Ascentionists?” Téa said, perplexed.\n\n“The Followers of the Fourteen Ascended Saints.” The shop keeper indicated the ribbons on the stalls that Téa had noticed earlier, “We’ve quite a big following in this town.”\n\nTéa watched with interest as the procession shuffled along past her. Now that it was nearer, she could hear the ball bleating. Her curiosity peaked, she stood on tip toes and peered at the cart. She couldn’t see anything until it had trundled past and the back of the cart became visible to her. What she saw caused her to blinked twice.\n\n“Why is there a [i]feral[/i] goat sitting inside that ball?” She asked the shopkeeper incredulously.\n\n“The goat is the holy animal of our chapter dearie,” the shopkeeper explained with good natured fervour, “it is a sacred animal to us. You see that crystal?” The shopkeeper waited for Téa to nod, “It’s enchanted. Three inches thick, and selectively permeable. Only the purest of pure things can enter, and impurities are expelled. That goat will breath only the freshest of air and eat only the cleanest of food. It will never know anything of disease or sickness.”\n\n“I see.” Téa said slowly, trying not to sound like she was humouring the shopkeeper.\n\n“Isn’t it just wonderful?” The shopkeeper gushed oblivious. “The temple has been collecting for its third goat all year.”\n\n“Oh, absolutely.” Téa agreed quickly. “Wonderful!”\n\nJust then, a stone—probably picked up by the departing cart—whizzed towards Téa’s head. Téa, a veteran at dodging missiles, successfully spun to avoid it, and it impacted harmlessly on the wall behind her. She turned back to face the shopkeeper.\n\n“Pretty smooth moves, eh?” She boasted, as she moved to effect a nonchalant pose leaning against the stall. Téa quickly jumped back though, as one side of the stall gave way under her weight.\n\nWhat happened next was like watching dominoes fall to Téa.\n\nThe fenic shopkeeper took a step backwards away from her collapsing stall in shock, and accidentally tripped on a feral rat. The rat took off up the hill in fright, which startled a flock of pigeons into flight. The pigeons swarmed the passing cart as they took to their wings, which caused the horse pulling the cart to rear up in surprise. This, in turn shifted the weight of the globe in the cart, which was too much for the ageing axil to bear. It snapped, causing the back of the cart to splinter and one of the ropes to loosen.\n\nTéa watched, arms slack, mouth agape, as, over the course of a few short seconds, events spiralled totally out of control.\n\nThe goat in the ball bleated in concern as the now-free globe began to roll backwards.\n\n“Oh, that is [i]so[/i] unfair.” She said to no one in particular as the sphere thumped to the ground and started to roll down hill towards her. Then she turned, and ran as hard as she could.\n\nBehind her the ball picked up speed. The concerned bleating of the goat turned to panic baying as it was picked up spun around inside its formally placid habitat which was now rolling down hill crushing whatever got in its way.\n\nTéa screamed as she ran. Reassuringly most of the other market-goers decided to join in as well, and soon the whole street was alive with screaming. Utter pandemonium erupted.\n\nFortunately, the other denizens of the marketplace had a bit more notice of the ball’s descent than Téa had, and were able to jump out of the way. One or two of the cooler heads in the crowd even managed to pull very elderly, very young or just very confused fursons to safety with them as the leapt.\n\nTéa was less fortunate, she had been right behind the cart when globe started rolling. The ball was right on her heals. If she weaved left or right it would certainly crush her.\n\nShe slammed her boots into the ground hard. Picking up the pace, and trying to widen the gap between her and pancake-hood. It worked. At full pelt she was slightly faster than the ball.\n\nBehind her the sphere jumped and skipped on the cobblestones. The goat giving particularly surprised bleats when it did.\n\n‘If I can keep this up for just a bit longer,’ she reasoned, ‘I should be able to spot a nook or a side street in time to d—’. Téa’s spirits fell as she rounded a corner to see that the road was walled at the bottom of the hill—a literal dead end Téa thought macabrely.\n\nThen she caught sight of a guard snoozing at the base of the wall, no doubt when he was supposed to be on duty. She screamed at him to wake up and run, but it was a wasted effort. If the noise of the screaming crowd and the roar of the globe didn’t wake him it seemed unlikely anything would.\n\nShe was trying to work out how—like the good little adventurer she was—she could save both herself and the guard when a grey blur darted across the street. It grabbed the slumbering guard and ran down a side street.\n\nShe felt a surge of gratitude to the blur, whoever they had been—now she had only to work out how to save herself.\n\nTéa deliberately ran straight into the wall, rather than slow down even for a second. She put her arms out, palms forward, to stop herself and absorb the shock. Hugging the wall, she looked left and then right for another route. There wasn’t one. Behind her the sound of rumbling and bleating was getting closer.\n\nTéa looked up. There was a rusted metal bracket protruding from the wall, about twelve feet above her head. It might have been used for a shelf at some point, or perhaps it had been for hanging basket. Téa didn’t care, she took two steps back and jumped at the wall.\n\nShe dug her boots into the wall. For two steps she was running up the wall, then she pushed—[i]hard[/i]—and executed a wall spin. She wrapped her arms around the underside of the bracket as she sailed past it, and pulled herself into as small a ball as she could.\n\nShe was just in time. The globe slammed into the wall beneath her. An almighty crash sounded which could be heard across the city, and a cloud of dust and debris enveloped the bottom of the street.\n\nTéa was still clinging, upside down, to her bracket when the air had cleared. The sound of the goat bleating pitifully brought her to. She looked down. The bracket had been high enough, just—her tail had been less than an inch away from being flattened. The crystal globe, although scratched to the point of opacity, was, amazingly, still intact. The same couldn’t really be said about the wall. There was a nine foot dint in it, which Téa was certain went all the way through to the other side.\n\nTéa cautiously let herself down onto the globe, facing the wall. She exhaled slowly when nothing bad happened. Then she turned, and accidentally slipped off the side, landing in an undignified heap, tail over head, on the ground.\n\nShe had survived, again.\n\nTéa righted herself, and after shaking to dislodge the worst of the dust in her fur, jogged up the hill to the street the blur had dived into.\n\nThere was a small crowd already gathered. Among them she saw a big grey wolf with spikey black hair—he was obviously the blur Téa had seen earlier. A loose circle of several guards and a few other onlookers stood around him, and he appeared to be arguing heatedly with all of them. In his hand he held a belt, although Téa couldn’t see why.\n\nThe wolf himself was quite dangerous looking. He was about six foot, and, although thin, seemed to be built entirely from muscle. From just his build Téa could have recognised him as fellow fighter, however he also wore a number of weapon belts which were strewn with bladed weapons which served to drive the point home. He wore a heavy-looking pack on his back which had yet more weapons hanging off of it. The most notable of which was a rather handsome spear strapped to the left hand side.\n\nAs Téa approached the group, she saw the cause of the argument. In the middle of the circle was the guard she had seen sleeping against the wall not five minutes earlier. He had a serious looking bruise to his head, neck and left shoulder. He was still breathing, but definitely unconscious.\n\n“I swear!” The wolf shouted, “I loosened his belt so it wouldn’t obstruct his breathing!”\n\nRumbles of ‘Thief’ and ‘Coward’ were heard from the assembled citizens.\n\n“And then you were going to the orphanage to hand out candy, right?” One of the guards, a lion, jeered.\n\n“That’s enough.” His superior, a tall Doberman, reprimanded him.\n\n“Sorry captain.” The guard said petulantly.\n\n“You were found standing over an unconscious guard,” the captain said, “holding his belt and expect us to believe that you are not, in fact, an opportunistic thief, but rather the hero who saved his life?”\n\n“It’s what happened.” The wolf protested.\n\n“It’s a tad unbelievable, is what it is.” The Doberman corrected him. “We have witnesses to testify against you,” behind him, the crowd rumbled menacingly, “your story would never stand in a court. If you come clean now it will be taken into account.”\n\n“I’m not lying!” The wolf screamed, “On my honour I’m not!”\n\n“Stealing from an unconscious man, a guard no less. Caught bang to rights and still lying about it.” The captain shook his head sadly as if he regretted the entire situation. “They’re going to lock you up for a very long time boy.”\n\nTéa decided it was past time for her to intervene.\n\n“Excuse me?” She attempted to get the Doberman’s attention, “Can I help?”\n\n“There’s nothing that need concern you here.” The captain said automatically without looking at her. “This doesn’t involve you.”\n\n“Only your man there doesn’t look too healthy.” Téa tried again.\n\n“He’s just been clipped by a runaway goat,” the lion said sarcastically, “I’d say that he…”\n\nThe captain silenced his underling with a withering glare. “Healers have been called for,” he said, “until then there’s nothing more that we can do for him.”\n\n“I’m not a healer,” Téa volunteered, “but I know a few spells.”\n\nThe captain considered quickly, “Okay, go ahead.”\n\nTéa dropped to her knees beside the injured guard. Being careful not to make any sudden moves she unstrapped one of her daggers, and held it, still sheathed, hilt beneath her chin, blade across her heart. Her other hand she placed, palm down, on the guard’s chest.\n\nShe bowed her head, eyes closed, and began to mumble the incantation to herself. The energy began to build. She used her dagger to focus it. Once she felt it had built sufficiently she opened her eyes and spoke the final words, “Healing Light!”\n\nA soft, golden aura encircled her hands.\n\nShe traced her fingers over the guard’s injuries, erasing, or at least diminishing, them as she went. She paid particular attention to his head wounds.\n\nFinally she looked up, “That’s the best I can do I’m afraid.”\n\n“That’s the most anyone could hope for.” The captain reassured her. “Thank you for your help.” He turned to the wolf. “As for you…”\n\n“He’s telling the truth.” Téa interrupted, standing up, “I saw the whole thing.”\n\n“You’re a witness?” The captain asked, surprised.\n\nTéa nodded, “I was running down the street in front of the ball. I saw him grab the guard and carry him to safety.”\n\n“And you are?” The captain asked, now in full investigative mode.\n\n“Téana Hikari, spell sword S-rank, of the adventurer’s guild.” Téa reached into a pocket, and retrieved her identifying papers.\n\nThe captain took the offered papers and examined them.\n\nTéa could feel the gears turning in her head. She knew the wolf was innocent, but the guards had seemingly made up their minds. She had helped heal the guard, and that helped her credibility, as did her rank in the guild, but…\n\n“Your testimony isn’t reliable, you weren’t present when the alleged incident took place,” the captain said apologetically, “your membership looks genuine, but being an adventurer won’t make you more reliable in the eyes of a judge.”\n\n“I know,” Téa said, noting that he had said ‘a judge’ rather than ‘the law’, “but what evidence do you [i]really[/i] have that he was going to rob the guard? When your man comes to I’m sure he will corroborate our story. Can’t you hold off charges until then?”\n\nThe captain thought about it, and Téa put on her best puppy-dog-eyes.\n\nFinally he relented. “Okay,” he said with a sigh, “I [i]can[/i] hold off charges until then.”\n\nHe turned to face the wolf, “I must ask you to accompany us until I can determine that you are not a flight risk, you are not under arrest and…”\n\nTéa missed the rest of the conversation, as she was grabbed from behind and quickly pulled back into the market.\n\nHer abductor was one of the blue/yellow robed monks. She was less than threatened by him. The monk was nowhere near as powerful as the monsters she dispatched regularly.\n\n“Yoink!” The monk giggled.\n\nTéa’s frown deepened, “I don’t know who you are, but you have ten seconds to g—”\n\nStill giggling, the monk placed his thumb on Téa’s forehead. “Sleep.” He said simply.\n\nTéa obediently crumpled up for him.\n\n[center][b]❖ ❖ ❖[/b][/center] \n\nWhen Téa woke, she was in a sack slung over someone’s back. She started punching and kicking angrily. There were voices and movement. Then Téa felt the suck swing around, and she tumbled out onto a hard, cold surface.\n\nInstantly she was swarmed by monks. Three to her left. Three to her right. Holding her against the table with all their weight.\n\nShe struggled to lift herself, and draw her daggers. Several times she managed to lift an arm, or shift position, but six fursons—even if they were relatively weak individually—were too great a force to break free from.\n\nAdmitting defeat, she ceased struggling. Instead she looked for another means of escape.\n\nShe was in a large vaulted room. The interior, at least, seemed to be wood rather than the stone and baked clay which she had seen used in Sanuman’s other buildings. The walls and ceiling were painted a brilliant sunflower-yellow. The columns and jousts of the hall were a glittering royal blue. Arcane scripts and sigils, traced in lines of fine indigo, decorated the walls. Held down as she was, she couldn’t see the floor.\n\nA feeling of serene calmness hung about the hall. The air was cool and clean. Soft sunlight touched every surface. Téa could even hear water gently lapping behind her.\n\nA monk, much older than the others, stepped into Téa’s sight. His hood was thrown back to reveal the face of an emaciated tom cat who’s black fur had begun to grey.\n\n“Hello Téana.” He whispered softly, he obviously had some difficulty breathing. “I am the abbot of the Sanumanian Monastery of the Fourteen Ascended Saints. Welcome to our temple.”\n\n“How kind of you to introduce yourself.” Téa said sarcastically, “Are you always so polite to the girls you kidnap, Father?”\n\nThe old fur frowned slightly, “You are here Téana because you owe us a penance.” Téa started to object, but he just raised his hand, “We scryed your involvement in the incident with our sacred goat.”\n\n“Then you know it was an accident.” Téa protested.\n\n“Accident or not,” the abbot whispered pointing a bony finger at her, “you are responsible for what happened.”\n\n“I think most fursons would disagree with you, and I’m certain that no one would agree that it justifies kidnapping.” Téa grit her teeth. “Okay,” she continued after a moment’s pause, “what does this penance involve?”\n\n“You’ll see.” The abbot advanced towards Téa, murmuring under his breath.\n\nHe gripped her chin with one hand, and forced her to look directly at him. The thumb of his other hand he placed on her forehead. His mutterings grew more intense.\n\nTéa tried to break the spell, but was unable to look away from the abbot’s manic eyes. His will was pouring into her mind though their shared gaze. She tried to resist the new thoughts that filled her head, but they seemed to dissolve seamlessly into her conciousness. Displacing her own goals and motivations, and replacing them with the abbot’s.\n\nEventually she felt even her own will to resist melt away. Her breathing slowed, her eyes unfocused and her cares floated away. She let the remainder of the abbot’s thoughts flow freely into her head.\n\n“Dear saints! Your mind is so yielding Téana.” The abbot said in surprise. “So easy to overwhelm and dominate.”\n\n“Yes.” Téa agreed simply, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.\n\nThe old monk released her and stepped back.\n\n“Strip her.” He commanded the six monks who had held Téa down though her ordeal.\n\nThe monks unbuckled her three weapon belts and tossed them carelessly to the floor. Her leathers and panties joined them shortly after.\n\nTéa sat up. She’d been held down on a circular alter which appeared to have been carved from a solid chunk of red marble. The alter sat on a dais which was encircled by a wide moat of sparkling-clear water—obviously the scrying pool.\n\nAround her were a multitude of the faceless blue/yellow monks. Even in her trance she felt a flush of embarrassment at been exposed in front of so many. She knew that were she not entrance she would also be feeling slightly afraid and extremely angry.\n\n“Téana Hikari,” the abbot intoned, “as penance for your heretical act of desecration you will service every member of our brotherhood. Brothers please form an orderly queue in descending rank please.”\n\n“Wait…a mo.” Téa slurred. “You’re monks…right? As in…monastic? Aren’t you guys…supposed…to be celabate?”\n\nThe abbot looked at Téa for a long moment, then he walked over and placed a thumb on her forehead, “You will now be without speech.”\n\n“Awwww…” Téa moaned.\n\n“Brothers, please form a line.” The old cat said as he shed his robes.\n\nTéa, knowing what he intended and completely his puppet, scooted back until she was laying on the edge of the alter with her legs drawn up.\n\nThe abbot’s body was old and frail, but his equipment still seemed to be in working order. His cock was hard and jumping in time with his rapid pulse. He stepped between her spread open thighs, and positioned his six inches at her opening. He stroked the left side of Téa’s body, from her budding breasts to her inner thigh. Then, gripping her knees, he slammed his hips forward.\n\nThe second monk in line divested himself of his clothing and walked around the alter until he was standing at ten o’clock. He took the now compliant vixen-herm by the shoulders and positioned her so that her muzzle was laying on the left edge of the alter. Téa licked her lips and opened her mouth, as she came face to face with the monk’s cock. The monk wasted no time. He slid his already-dripping member into Téa’s willing maw, and began humping her.\n\nTéa’s right hand drifted down to the spot, just above her girl parts, where her plumpening sheath lay. The pink head of her maleness was just peaking out. She coaxed the rest of it to full hardness with gentle squeezes—relishing the feel of skin sliding on skin as it engorged and slipped free. Her fingers gently traced up and down the underside of her cock in time with the abbot’s thrusting.\n\nThe monk in her mouth came quickly. Quickly filling her mouth with his salty flavour. Téa swallowed the musky fluid obediently, then pulled off so she could tongue bathe the monk’s cock clean. His last few spurts covered her muzzle. She licked up the heavy strands, which linked her fur and his cock, eagerly.\n\nA tap on he shoulder caused her to look round. Behind her, at two o’clock, was another monk waiting for her mouth to become free. Téa flipped sides and began pleasuring her third monk.\n\nShe was starting to build to a climax—with all the sensations she was experiencing it was going to be a big one. Gripping her cock hard in her fist, she stroked herself vigorously. Whimpers, then moans, began to escape her every time she exhaled. Her breathing and heart rate shot up. She was going to climax any moment. She screwed up her eyes.\n\n“You will now be without the ability to orgasm,” the thumb was on her forehead again, “and you will not pleasure yourself.”\n\n“Gaaahhh!” Téa moaned in frustration as the sensations continued to swell in her, but her release failed to arrive.\n\nHer squirms and obvious discomfort were enough to push the abbot over the edge. He slammed his hips into hers, and let loose a strangled yowl of delight. For an old fur he managed an impressive load. She could feel the hot tom spunk filling her. Spent, exhausted and sated, he collapsed forward. “Thank you Téana,” he breathed heavily as he licked her ear, “you’re such a good little cock pleaser.”\n\nTéa moaned in protest as he pulled out. On an instinctive level she still believed she only needed a little push to climax. She welcomed the abbot’s replacement eagerly, her body telling her that she was only a few stokes away from heaven. Her mind was ravaged. There were no coherent thoughts—only the desire to take that last step over the edge and the instincts misdirecting her actions to that end.\n\nShe felt her new partner’s endowment pressing into the creamy whiteness the abbot had left behind—displacing the liquid with each stroke. Forcing some of the cum deeper into her on the in-stroke, and drawing cum from her on the out-stroke. The viscous liquid formed an air tight seal, for at least part of each stroke, and sticky squelchy noises mixed in harmony with Téa’s lust filled moans.\n\nThe fur on her right finished with her, pulling out eagerly in anticipation of [i]his[/i] tongue bath and inadvertently dousing Téa with yet more cum. Téa didn’t disappoint—the abbot’s thoughts and her own need wouldn’t let her—she expertly cleaned the cock on her right and then flipped over to suck on the male on her left.\n\nIt was about an hour, and many, many monks, later that the guards broke the doors down and streamed in en-masse.\n\nTéa didn’t even blink, let alone stop sucking, but the reactions among the monks were many and varied. Some moved towards the invaders, while others backed away surreptitiously. Téa moaned in disappointment as her captors pulled out of her. Without them or the ability to masturbate she was left with no way to get off.\n\nThe guards brandished batons, rather than their swords—they were there to raid the temple, not sack it. Among the guards were Saria and the grey wolf from the market. They fought alongside the guards, with fury and determination, but remembering to pull their attacks so as not to hurt the monks [i]too[/i] much.\n\nThe monks swarmed Saria in particular, seeming deciding that a mage was an ‘easy’ mark. They couldn’t have been more mistaken. Although skill in physical combat was not a trait that mages with their sedentary profession were noted for, Saria was an SS-rank adventurer and an expert in close combat.\n\nShe dispatched the first three monks, using a variety of kicks and punch, before they had time to realise their mistake. A couple tried to creep up and attack her from behind, but the senses of a mage are not easily fooled, and she clubbed them both with a swing of her staff.\n\nSaria disliked using her staff as a weapon. It was much more useful as a tool for magic than as a weapon, and although it was heavy and sturdy, there was always the possibility, however unlikely, of the staff splintering, which would leave her unable to cast certain spells until it was replaced.\n\nThe remaining monks, having seen her take down their brethren, were more cautious. They attacked from just outside her reach, darting in for quick punches, rather than extended fighting—intending to wear her down if they couldn’t disable her immediately. Saria weathered the beatings, she had endured far worse, and waited for opportunities to attack in return.\n\nPerversely, she found this fight more difficult than the ones she had fought against stronger foes. In those fights she would have been able to use her lunar bow. It was frustrating to have to hold back when her enemies obviously had no compunctions about hurting her.\n\nShe saw a thumb reaching towards her. Her arm shot out, catching the offending digit in her fist. She grinned, then twisted. There was a snapping sound as the bone broke. The owner of the thumb howled out in pain, clutching his damaged paw. There was another crunch as Saria’s fist connected with his muzzle. The monk dropped to the floor.\n\nBehind her the grey wolf was fighting with equal vigour. He seemed to be favouring short bladed weapons, and his fists for this fight.\n\nInitially Saria was concerned, but as she watched him fight it became clear that he was quite expert with his knives and swords. Although he was inflicting some nasty cuts on his opponents, they were all landing in areas intended to disable rather kill. Tendons and muscles were severed, and major veins and arteries were spared.\n\nShe watched as he systematically disabled his attackers in the order of the threat they posed, and then, once he was out of danger, finished them off with a few well placed punches and kicks.\n\nThen the monk who had been using Téana’s mouth last did something [i]really[/i] stupid. He grabed one of Téa’s daggers from the floor, and held it against her throat—intending to use her as a hostage. Téa made no sign she was even aware of the blade, but the grey wolf noticed.\n\nHe immediately finished the fight with his current opponent, with a high kick to his muzzle, and charged towards the alter screaming a terrible war cry as he went.\n\n“[b]Nnniiiiikkkkkeeeeennbbuuuu[/b]—”\n\nHe leapt the moat in one bound, landing on the polished red marble astride Téa. Immediately he went into a spin—a blur of grey fur and silver steel. He executed two, three hundred and sixty degree spins, his arms flying in a complicated pattern as he moved. His foot work was so perfect that his boots never once even brushed the side of the supine girl beneath him.\n\nIt was only possible to work out what he had done after the fact. The monk holding Téa’s dagger had a deep gash running across his right paw—it was doubtful he would ever regain the use of it. The monk on Téa’s right had a lighter gash across one of his shoulders. The monk between Téa’s legs had been the victim of a boot to the face and was out cold. The two concious monks turned tail and ran naked into the mêlée.\n\nThe wolf watched grimly as they ran, but didn’t pursue. Instead he stood over Téa’s defenceless form and attacked anybody who came within striking distance of the alter.\n\nTéa sucked happily on the tip of his tail, glad to have something in her mouth again. She showed no awareness of any of the fighting going on around her.\n\nThe fighters seemed fairly evenly matched at first, but the battle quickly turned. The monks, who were experts in mental magic and not fighting, found that they were unable to get their opponents still for long enough to assert control over them. Most of the monks turned tail and ran deeper into the temple, the guards hot on their trail.\n\nTwo figures jogged towards the alter as the room quickly emptied—Saria and the captain of guards. They were both bruised and bedraggled looking from the battle, but otherwise unharmed. The wolf lowered his swords as they approached, and stepped down off the alter.\n\n“Téana!” Saria cried as she approached, “are you okay?”\n\n“Mrgh?” Téa grunted.\n\nAll three rescuers looked on in concern. Téa was coated with cum at both ends, and she was writhing on the alter in an unusual way. She showed little awareness of their presence.\n\n“Oh dear,” Saria said, biting her claws without realising it, “Téa? Can you hear me?”\n\nShe placed a hand on Téa’s midriff, and began chanting. A golden glow enveloped them both. Téa seemed to calm down.\n\n“Can you hear me now Téana?” Saria asked again when it was over.\n\n“Sar?” Téa asked weakly.\n\n“That’s right!” Saria exclaimed in relief, “It’s okay Téa. It’s over now.”\n\nThe captain stepped forward, “Téana, I promise that we will bring your kidnappers to justice. We don’t tolerate crimes of this nature in Sanuman whether or not the perpetrators are men of the gods.”\n\nTéa just nodded weakly, “Thank you, captian.”\n\n“I should go coordinate with my men. See how many they managed to catch. Will she be okay?” He asked Saria.\n\n“Téa’s tough as nails.” Saria assured him, “She’ll be okay.”\n\n“Okay.” The captain said as he turned to leave.\n\nThey watched him go. Then Saria turned back to Téa.\n\n“Téa, there is someone you should meet.” She said, “Téana Hikari meet Kellian Tareza.”\n\n“Kell.” The big wolf insisted. “Téana I am much indebted to you. The healers say that if you hadn’t intervened, that guard would have been dead by the time they arrived. Without his testimony I would have been imprisoned.”\n\n“Kell was the one who talked the guards into letting us tag along.” Saria explained.\n\n“I think they were feeling a little guilty. When that guard woke up and the first thing he wanted to do was shake my hand there were a lot of red faces—I’m a hero thanks to you Téana.” Kell beamed, then his expression became more serious, “I owe you my freedom, my honour, and my good name—all of these things are very important to me. I think I would rather die than compromise any one them. So, Téana Hikari I pledge my loyalty, my life to you. I will travel with you as your bodyguard and serve you in any way that I can.”\n\nTéa’s eyes lit up, “I accept.” She said immediately.\n\nKell smiled, “Thank you—”\n\n“Shag me.” Téa said.\n\n“Wha?” Kell was thrown off his stride.\n\n“Shag me.” Téa repeated. “Those goat loving sons of splash pregnancies wouldn’t let me get off.”\n\n“But—” Kell stammered.\n\n“You pledged your loyalty to me,” Téa said, “so help me. Help me over the edge.”\n\nKell stood there, the request obviously too much for his brain to process.\n\n“I’ll—uh—just go check on the guards.” Saria excused herself awkwardly.\n\n“Shag me.” Téa tried not to plead.\n\nKell just nodded, and began to strip. He folded his clothes as neatly as he removed them, and laid them next to Téa’s on the ground. When he removed his tented boxers Téa knew she had made the right choice.\n\nKell was very well endowed—a foot long at least—and he had one of the largest knots Téa had ever seen.\n\nTéa spread her legs again as he approached. Unintentionally making puppy-dog-eyes at him. His hand traced the white stripe in her hair and cupped the back of her head pulling her into a long kiss. He slipped into her and began slowly thrusting. His free hand wrapped around Téa’s hardness.\n\nTéa was a much more awake and active participant in the sex this time. She arched back to meet his movements, and trust forward into his paw. She groaned around Kell’s kisses and behind the lovers [i]two[/i] tails, one grey and one gold, twitched.\n\nTéa wrapped her arms around the wolf’s neck, pulling him closer to her. Kell could feel Téa’s heart beat clearly as he held her. Sensing her urgency he sped up his strokes and began to tweak the head of her shaft as he stroked it. It was the tweaks that eventually gave Téa her long denied release.\n\nTéa almost passed out when she came. Ropes of Téa’s hot, sweet vixen cum covered the bellies both fighters. Her orgasms were normally quite long lasting, but this time Téa climaxed for a whole eight minutes, her cum jetting from her like a firehose the entire time. Téa’s cum coated them both from chin to groin—spread thickly across their chest’s by Téa’s writhing body and Kell’s tight embrace. She locked her legs around the wolf’s waist, as she shook and shuddered—the size difference meaning her toes only just touched the base of his bushy tail.\n\nTéa’s prolonged spasms sent Kell over the edge and he slammed hard into the vixen as he came. His knot inflated in her much smaller body and they were tied. He fell forward onto the alter, clutching the still-orgasming fox in his arms, pinning her beneath him. He growled instinctively, and made a number of short sharp thrusts as he released his thick seed. Téa gasped in discomfort at the sharp sensations each tug of Kell’s knot brought her, but enjoyed them anyway. Each tug seeming to punctuate a wave of pleasure, delimiting it from the next.\n\nTéa was still in the throes of orgasm when Kell’s had subsided, despite having reached climax first. Kell, just held her protectively as she rode out the sensations that had long been denied to her. He tenderly licked at Téa’s muzzle, neck and ears as he enjoyed his afterglow and the pleasant feelings that came from being hilted in the excited herm.\n\nEventually both their mutual orgasms subsided and the still-tied pair rested on the alter. Without words Kell knew what to do next. He lifted the breathless Téa into his arms, carried her to the scrying pool and stepped into the water with her. Ropes of cum slowly washed off their entwined bodies as they bathed their fur and their wounds in the cool bath.\n\nAt some point their hugs gave way to kisses, and their kisses eventually led to another round of sex, and another bath.\n\n[center][b]❖ ❖ ❖[/b][/center] \n\nVassallo strode through the deepest corridors of [i]his[/i] citadel with purpose.\n\nHe was, for the moment at least, very pleased. His plan was coming together nicely. All those years of careful schemes, demonic pacts, stealthy manoeuvres, and the occasional murder—they had all been leading to this. His ultimate goal was almost within his grasp.\n\nWhich is why he needed to talk to Polori. Polori was, in theory if not in fact, the absolute ruler of Junglara. Furthermore, he was astonishingly careless. An ill-informed order from Polori might be all it took to unravel Vassallo’s bid for power. Which is why Vassallo insisted that Polori was kept apprised of Vassallo’s schemes.\n\nVassallo tired of this duty, but he couldn’t delegate it. Explaining things to Polori was an artform. First it was necessary to drag his attention from whatever it was that occupied it at the time—usually an entranced slave girl. Then came the monumental task of explaining—usually several times—the situation in words and sentences short enough for the king to comprehend. Finally, Vassallo would have to get Polori to explain what he had just been told, so he could be sure that the king really understood and wasn’t just saying he did.\n\nNot that the elephant could ever hope to truly understand or appreciate his ultimate designs—he was far too dense for that.\n\nVassallo came to the doors of the king’s bedchamber. There were no guards posted, and no need for them—in this part of the citadel his control was near absolute. Without knocking, he opened them and marched in.\n\nPolori knelt, naked, at the head of his four poster bed. The bed was one of the few things that remained of the previous king’s possessions. Polori had had the rest of the room, and much of the rest of the citadel for that matter, redecorated to his tastes after his coronation.\n\nAttached to the bed was Polori’s new toy—a tortoiseshell manx kitten in a sling—Vassallo had dubbed it ‘the swallow’. The king was slamming into the kitten—who was only slightly larger than than the cock she was riding—furiously. If the purrs and moans emanating from the kitten were any indication, the manx was quite enjoying the treatment.\n\n“Polori,” Vassallo began, “More news from Loveless. She has narrowed the location of Tear to a region on the borders of Junglara, Sandrune and Lanreal Kingdom.”\n\n“Urgh!” Polori grunted as he thrust, “That’s good Vassallo!” He roared.\n\nIt was obvious he hadn’t paid Vassallo any attention at all. The vizier sighed—it was going to be one of those [i]very[/i] difficult explanations. He resigned himself to waiting, he would have a much better chance of getting the elephant’s attention immediately after his climax. It was his own fault, Vassallo mused, if he hadn’t done such a good job on the swallow he wouldn’t have this problem now.\n\nThe swallow was a masterpiece of perverted art. To describe it simply as a girl-in-a-sling was to do it a disservice. The main part of the sling was a wide strap of black leather which went around the girl’s torso, and attached to the rails of the king’s bed. Ten smaller strips of leather ran from the rails to the girl’s outspread finger tips, where they were attached by tiny barbell piercings.\n\nVassallo smiled, as he recalled the moment of inspiration that led him to realise the elastic spell, which he cast on the girl to allow her to take the king’s impressive length, could also be used to put piercings through the soft pads of her fingers.\n\nTwo final straps wrapped around the girl’s calves, holding her legs spread up and out at ninety degrees. It was the leg straps which had made him settle on the name. He had been going to call his creation ‘the angel’, but the v-shape formed by the legs reminded him of the tail of the swallow, and he thought the name an improvement anyway.\n\nOf course the real beauty of the swallow was that, thanks to the positioning of the straps, the ‘wings’ appeared to flap in time with the user’s thrusting.\n\nTo Vassallo mind-warping fursons into his obedient slaves was an artform and a hobby, something he did when he wanted to unwind and try his creativity. Normally interrupting his ‘work’ to bend a girl’s mind for the king annoyed him, but he had to admit he had outdone himself this time.\n\nVassallo tickled the kitten under her chin. The empty-eyed manx tilted her head up in response and giggled in delight. She was totally oblivious to the fact her internal organs were being fatally rearranged. Elastic spell, or no, Vassallo reckoned the little kitten had less than a week before her body gave up. Fortunately, for the girl at least, the king would most likely lose interest in her before that happened.\n\nPolori let loose a yell which reverberated around the chamber, and his cum exploded back from between the girl’s thighs. Vassallo smiled—now he would be able to talk with the king. \n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Hexes and Heros: To Market, to market…
by JustLurking


“How can you stand the heat Saria?”  A panting, dripping Téana asked her companion, as they walked side by through Sanuman’s bustling main market.

“Mmm?”  Saria raised an eyebrow, as if not understanding the question.

“Don’t play games Sar.”  Téa gasped.  “I’m dying of heat stroke in just my leathers, but you’re hardly breaking a sweat in that heavy robe of yours.  How do you do it?”

“Mage’s Secret I’m afraid Téa.”  Saria said enigmatically.

“Come on, spill it.”  Téa insisted.

Saria smiled, slightly sheepishly, “I cast Water Elemental Burst with a Shadow modifier.”

“I’ve seen you cast that, it lets you freeze anything in a metres reach, right?”  Téa asked, not understanding Saria’s reluctance.

“At level one.”  Saria agreed, “At level two it’s two metres, at three it’s four, and so on.”

“So?”  Téa asked, still oblivious.

“I cast it at level one-sixteenth.”  Seeing that Téa was still confused, Saria spelled it out for her, “Which has just enough distance and power to chill my underwear.”

“You…” Téa broke down in a fit of giggles, forcing her to lean on her companion, and drawing strange looks from passers by, “I don’t suppose you could cast that on me could you?”  She asked when she eventually recovered her breath.

“’Fraid not Téa.”  The cheetah mage said regretfully, “Unless you were hugging me the whole time I’d have to cast level one and that’d turn you into a Téa-cicle.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if they’d built these damn streets level.”  Téa grumbled good naturedly.  “Hiking up and down these hills is killing me.”

Sanuman was a large city in the hilly regions near Lanreal Kingdom’s south-eastern border.  The whole city was a mess of small, twisty, slanted streets packed to bursting with fursons from all walks life.  The principal materials used in sun-baked Sanuman’s construction were stones, clays and muds.  The dust was pervasive, and the smell of it was everywhere.

Téa and Saria had arrived at dusk the previous evening, just before the city gates closed.  They’d gone directly to the guild building where they had signed in, enjoyed a hearty supper, a good night’s sleep, and, most importantly, handed over the necklace of Sinbana.  The guild house had, as usual, advanced the reward money—minus the guild’s cut—for Téa and Saria, and arranged for the necklace to be couriered to it new home in a museum by the next available D-rank team.

With their debts settled, their accounts squarely in the black and their purses much heavier, the girls had decided to stay in Sanuman a few days and do some re-tooling before taking their next mission.

“The hills aren’t that bad Téa.”  Saria countered, “Look none of the locals have any problem with it.”

“Well I do.”  Téa stuck out her tongue at her friend, “I can honestly say I’ve been in dungeons which were easier to navigate.”

“You exaggerate too mu…Ooooh!”  A stall selling grimoires caught Saria’s eye.  She pounced on the nearest book and started fingering it possessively.  The stall owner just smiled, secure in the knowledge that he was going to make a sale.

“Sar!  Sar!”  Téa tried to re-obtain her friend’s attention.  “Okay,” she sighed as she realised that it was futile, “I know it’s useless to try and tare you away from your books when you get started.  I’ll be over there looking for provisions, all right?”  She gestured at a stall slightly down hill.

“M’kay.”  Saria said distractedly, already nose-deep in the table of contents.

Téa frowned, and put her hands on her hips, “…I think I’ll spend your money too while I’m at it.”

“Sounds good.”  Saria said as she tried out one of the hand-wiggles described in the magical tome.

Téa sighed again, and slouched off.  If Saria was true to form, she would probably be distracted for the best part of twenty minutes examining the books before she decided on the ones she wanted.

Téa looked at the market.  It was typical of most that she had seen in her travels.  Stalls and their owners lined both sides of the cramped streets, selling all the goods that the good furson’s of Sanuman needed, and quite a lot of cheep and tacky tat that they didn’t.  Many of the stalls were decorated with yellow and blue ribbons, for reasons that Téa didn’t immediately grasp.  She supposed it might be a ‘local-thing’.  Around the stalls the inhabitants of Sanuman went about their lives.  Locals, tourists, adventurers, shopkeepers and the odd guard all ceaselessly milling about the street.  She sighed again—she’d probably really like Sanuman if only it wasn’t for the heat and the damn hills.

Téa focused her attention on the stall in front of her.  It was selling food stuffs, both perishable and longer lasting.  She smiled as she started picking out supplies for Saria and herself.  As a swordsman Téa’s metabolism was in high gear.  She burned carbs almost as fast as she could consume them.  Saria, on the other hand, only had to look at a slice of cake to put on weight.

The situation was almost funny.  Saria would start out every mission insisting she would stick to her diet, but she would break after a few days of watching Téa wolf down her sugary meals, and they would start sharing their rations.  After every mission, Saria would regret the weight she had put on, and the cycle would repeat.  The joke of it was that Saria’s constant on-again-off-again diet meant that her weight never varied more then a stone in either direction anyway.

Téa’s musing was interrupted by the sound of approaching chanting.

She looked up from the stall just in time to see a procession of monks turn the corner onto the street.  They were clad, head to toe, in blue and yellow robes, and ambled forward slowly, mumbling a solemn plain chant as they went.  Their faces were covered and bowed, leaving Téa with no clue as to their species.

Behind the lead monks was a horse drawn cart.  The cart was old and rickety looking, but had been decorated loving in the same blue/yellow colours that the monks wore.  Tied to the cart, by two heavy looking ropes, was a large crystal ball, about ten feet wide, which was so clear that Téa initially thought it was glass.

“Who’re they?”  Téa asked turning to the stall owner, a cheerful looking fennec vixen in her fifties.

“They’re from the ascensionist temple,” the shopkeeper replied, “in the square at the top of the hill.”

“Ascentionists?”  Téa said, perplexed.

“The Followers of the Fourteen Ascended Saints.”  The shop keeper indicated the ribbons on the stalls that Téa had noticed earlier, “We’ve quite a big following in this town.”

Téa watched with interest as the procession shuffled along past her.  Now that it was nearer, she could hear the ball bleating.  Her curiosity peaked, she stood on tip toes and peered at the cart.  She couldn’t see anything until it had trundled past and the back of the cart became visible to her.  What she saw caused her to blinked twice.

“Why is there a feral goat sitting inside that ball?”  She asked the shopkeeper incredulously.

“The goat is the holy animal of our chapter dearie,” the shopkeeper explained with good natured fervour, “it is a sacred animal to us.  You see that crystal?”  The shopkeeper waited for Téa to nod, “It’s enchanted.  Three inches thick, and selectively permeable.  Only the purest of pure things can enter, and impurities are expelled.  That goat will breath only the freshest of air and eat only the cleanest of food.  It will never know anything of disease or sickness.”

“I see.”  Téa said slowly, trying not to sound like she was humouring the shopkeeper.

“Isn’t it just wonderful?”  The shopkeeper gushed oblivious.  “The temple has been collecting for its third goat all year.”

“Oh, absolutely.”  Téa agreed quickly.  “Wonderful!”

Just then, a stone—probably picked up by the departing cart—whizzed towards Téa’s head.  Téa, a veteran at dodging missiles, successfully spun to avoid it, and it impacted harmlessly on the wall behind her.  She turned back to face the shopkeeper.

“Pretty smooth moves, eh?”  She boasted, as she moved to effect a nonchalant pose leaning against the stall.  Téa quickly jumped back though, as one side of the stall gave way under her weight.

What happened next was like watching dominoes fall to Téa.

The fenic shopkeeper took a step backwards away from her collapsing stall in shock, and accidentally tripped on a feral rat.  The rat took off up the hill in fright, which startled a flock of pigeons into flight.  The pigeons swarmed the passing cart as they took to their wings, which caused the horse pulling the cart to rear up in surprise.  This, in turn shifted the weight of the globe in the cart, which was too much for the ageing axil to bear.  It snapped, causing the back of the cart to splinter and one of the ropes to loosen.

Téa watched, arms slack, mouth agape, as, over the course of a few short seconds, events spiralled totally out of control.

The goat in the ball bleated in concern as the now-free globe began to roll backwards.

“Oh, that is so unfair.”  She said to no one in particular as the sphere thumped to the ground and started to roll down hill towards her.  Then she turned, and ran as hard as she could.

Behind her the ball picked up speed.  The concerned bleating of the goat turned to panic baying as it was picked up spun around inside its formally placid habitat which was now rolling down hill crushing whatever got in its way.

Téa screamed as she ran.  Reassuringly most of the other market-goers decided to join in as well, and soon the whole street was alive with screaming.  Utter pandemonium erupted.

Fortunately, the other denizens of the marketplace had a bit more notice of the ball’s descent than Téa had, and were able to jump out of the way.  One or two of the cooler heads in the crowd even managed to pull very elderly, very young or just very confused fursons to safety with them as the leapt.

Téa was less fortunate, she had been right behind the cart when globe started rolling.  The ball was right on her heals.  If she weaved left or right it would certainly crush her.

She slammed her boots into the ground hard.  Picking up the pace, and trying to widen the gap between her and pancake-hood.  It worked.  At full pelt she was slightly faster than the ball.

Behind her the sphere jumped and skipped on the cobblestones.  The goat giving particularly surprised bleats when it did.

‘If I can keep this up for just a bit longer,’ she reasoned, ‘I should be able to spot a nook or a side street in time to d—’.  Téa’s spirits fell as she rounded a corner to see that the road was walled at the bottom of the hill—a literal dead end Téa thought macabrely.

Then she caught sight of a guard snoozing at the base of the wall, no doubt when he was supposed to be on duty.  She screamed at him to wake up and run, but it was a wasted effort.  If the noise of the screaming crowd and the roar of the globe didn’t wake him it seemed unlikely anything would.

She was trying to work out how—like the good little adventurer she was—she could save both herself and the guard when a grey blur darted across the street.  It grabbed the slumbering guard and ran down a side street.

She felt a surge of gratitude to the blur, whoever they had been—now she had only to work out how to save herself.

Téa deliberately ran straight into the wall, rather than slow down even for a second.  She put her arms out, palms forward, to stop herself and absorb the shock.  Hugging the wall, she looked left and then right for another route.  There wasn’t one.  Behind her the sound of rumbling and bleating was getting closer.

Téa looked up.  There was a rusted metal bracket protruding from the wall, about twelve feet above her head.  It might have been used for a shelf at some point, or perhaps it had been for hanging basket.  Téa didn’t care, she took two steps back and jumped at the wall.

She dug her boots into the wall.  For two steps she was running up the wall, then she pushed—hard—and executed a wall spin.  She wrapped her arms around the underside of the bracket as she sailed past it, and pulled herself into as small a ball as she could.

She was just in time.  The globe slammed into the wall beneath her.  An almighty crash sounded which could be heard across the city, and a cloud of dust and debris enveloped the bottom of the street.

Téa was still clinging, upside down, to her bracket when the air had cleared.  The sound of the goat bleating pitifully brought her to.  She looked down.  The bracket had been high enough, just—her tail had been less than an inch away from being flattened.  The crystal globe, although scratched to the point of opacity, was, amazingly, still intact.  The same couldn’t really be said about the wall.  There was a nine foot dint in it, which Téa was certain went all the way through to the other side.

Téa cautiously let herself down onto the globe, facing the wall.  She exhaled slowly when nothing bad happened.  Then she turned, and accidentally slipped off the side, landing in an undignified heap, tail over head, on the ground.

She had survived, again.

Téa righted herself, and after shaking to dislodge the worst of the dust in her fur, jogged up the hill to the street the blur had dived into.

There was a small crowd already gathered.  Among them she saw a big grey wolf with spikey black hair—he was obviously the blur Téa had seen earlier.  A loose circle of several guards and a few other onlookers stood around him, and he appeared to be arguing heatedly with all of them.  In his hand he held a belt, although Téa couldn’t see why.

The wolf himself was quite dangerous looking.  He was about six foot, and, although thin, seemed to be built entirely from muscle.  From just his build Téa could have recognised him as fellow fighter, however he also wore a number of weapon belts which were strewn with bladed weapons which served to drive the point home.  He wore a heavy-looking pack on his back which had yet more weapons hanging off of it.  The most notable of which was a rather handsome spear strapped to the left hand side.

As Téa approached the group, she saw the cause of the argument.  In the middle of the circle was the guard she had seen sleeping against the wall not five minutes earlier.  He had a serious looking bruise to his head, neck and left shoulder.  He was still breathing, but definitely unconscious.

“I swear!”  The wolf shouted, “I loosened his belt so it wouldn’t obstruct his breathing!”

Rumbles of ‘Thief’ and ‘Coward’ were heard from the assembled citizens.

“And then you were going to the orphanage to hand out candy, right?”  One of the guards, a lion, jeered.

“That’s enough.”  His superior, a tall Doberman, reprimanded him.

“Sorry captain.”  The guard said petulantly.

“You were found standing over an unconscious guard,” the captain said, “holding his belt and expect us to believe that you are not, in fact, an opportunistic thief, but rather the hero who saved his life?”

“It’s what happened.”  The wolf protested.

“It’s a tad unbelievable, is what it is.”  The Doberman corrected him.  “We have witnesses to testify against you,” behind him, the crowd rumbled menacingly, “your story would never stand in a court.  If you come clean now it will be taken into account.”

“I’m not lying!”  The wolf screamed, “On my honour I’m not!”

“Stealing from an unconscious man, a guard no less.  Caught bang to rights and still lying about it.”  The captain shook his head sadly as if he regretted the entire situation.  “They’re going to lock you up for a very long time boy.”

Téa decided it was past time for her to intervene.

“Excuse me?”  She attempted to get the Doberman’s attention, “Can I help?”

“There’s nothing that need concern you here.”  The captain said automatically without looking at her.  “This doesn’t involve you.”

“Only your man there doesn’t look too healthy.”  Téa tried again.

“He’s just been clipped by a runaway goat,” the lion said sarcastically, “I’d say that he…”

The captain silenced his underling with a withering glare.  “Healers have been called for,” he said, “until then there’s nothing more that we can do for him.”

“I’m not a healer,” Téa volunteered, “but I know a few spells.”

The captain considered quickly, “Okay, go ahead.”

Téa dropped to her knees beside the injured guard.  Being careful not to make any sudden moves she unstrapped one of her daggers, and held it, still sheathed, hilt beneath her chin, blade across her heart.  Her other hand she placed, palm down, on the guard’s chest.

She bowed her head, eyes closed, and began to mumble the incantation to herself.  The energy began to build.  She used her dagger to focus it.  Once she felt it had built sufficiently she opened her eyes and spoke the final words, “Healing Light!”

A soft, golden aura encircled her hands.

She traced her fingers over the guard’s injuries, erasing, or at least diminishing, them as she went.  She paid particular attention to his head wounds.

Finally she looked up, “That’s the best I can do I’m afraid.”

“That’s the most anyone could hope for.”  The captain reassured her.  “Thank you for your help.”  He turned to the wolf.  “As for you…”

“He’s telling the truth.”  Téa interrupted, standing up, “I saw the whole thing.”

“You’re a witness?”  The captain asked, surprised.

Téa nodded, “I was running down the street in front of the ball.  I saw him grab the guard and carry him to safety.”

“And you are?”  The captain asked, now in full investigative mode.

“Téana Hikari, spell sword S-rank, of the adventurer’s guild.”  Téa reached into a pocket, and retrieved her identifying papers.

The captain took the offered papers and examined them.

Téa could feel the gears turning in her head.  She knew the wolf was innocent, but the guards had seemingly made up their minds.  She had helped heal the guard, and that helped her credibility, as did her rank in the guild, but…

“Your testimony isn’t reliable, you weren’t present when the alleged incident took place,” the captain said apologetically, “your membership looks genuine, but being an adventurer won’t make you more reliable in the eyes of a judge.”

“I know,” Téa said, noting that he had said ‘a judge’ rather than ‘the law’, “but what evidence do you really have that he was going to rob the guard?  When your man comes to I’m sure he will corroborate our story.  Can’t you hold off charges until then?”

The captain thought about it, and Téa put on her best puppy-dog-eyes.

Finally he relented.  “Okay,” he said with a sigh, “I can hold off charges until then.”

He turned to face the wolf, “I must ask you to accompany us until I can determine that you are not a flight risk, you are not under arrest and…”

Téa missed the rest of the conversation, as she was grabbed from behind and quickly pulled back into the market.

Her abductor was one of the blue/yellow robed monks.  She was less than threatened by him.  The monk was nowhere near as powerful as the monsters she dispatched regularly.

“Yoink!”  The monk giggled.

Téa’s frown deepened, “I don’t know who you are, but you have ten seconds to g—”

Still giggling, the monk placed his thumb on Téa’s forehead.  “Sleep.”  He said simply.

Téa obediently crumpled up for him.

❖ ❖ ❖


When Téa woke, she was in a sack slung over someone’s back.  She started punching and kicking angrily.  There were voices and movement.  Then Téa felt the suck swing around, and she tumbled out onto a hard, cold surface.

Instantly she was swarmed by monks.  Three to her left.  Three to her right.  Holding her against the table with all their weight.

She struggled to lift herself, and draw her daggers.  Several times she managed to lift an arm, or shift position, but six fursons—even if they were relatively weak individually—were too great a force to break free from.

Admitting defeat, she ceased struggling.  Instead she looked for another means of escape.

She was in a large vaulted room.  The interior, at least, seemed to be wood rather than the stone and baked clay which she had seen used in Sanuman’s other buildings.  The walls and ceiling were painted a brilliant sunflower-yellow.  The columns and jousts of the hall were a glittering royal blue.  Arcane scripts and sigils, traced in lines of fine indigo, decorated the walls.  Held down as she was, she couldn’t see the floor.

A feeling of serene calmness hung about the hall.  The air was cool and clean.  Soft sunlight touched every surface.  Téa could even hear water gently lapping behind her.

A monk, much older than the others, stepped into Téa’s sight.  His hood was thrown back to reveal the face of an emaciated tom cat who’s black fur had begun to grey.

“Hello Téana.”  He whispered softly, he obviously had some difficulty breathing.  “I am the abbot of the Sanumanian Monastery of the Fourteen Ascended Saints.  Welcome to our temple.”

“How kind of you to introduce yourself.”  Téa said sarcastically, “Are you always so polite to the girls you kidnap, Father?”

The old fur frowned slightly, “You are here Téana because you owe us a penance.”  Téa started to object, but he just raised his hand, “We scryed your involvement in the incident with our sacred goat.”

“Then you know it was an accident.”  Téa protested.

“Accident or not,” the abbot whispered pointing a bony finger at her, “you are responsible for what happened.”

“I think most fursons would disagree with you, and I’m certain that no one would agree that it justifies kidnapping.”  Téa grit her teeth.  “Okay,” she continued after a moment’s pause, “what does this penance involve?”

“You’ll see.”  The abbot advanced towards Téa, murmuring under his breath.

He gripped her chin with one hand, and forced her to look directly at him.  The thumb of his other hand he placed on her forehead.  His mutterings grew more intense.

Téa tried to break the spell, but was unable to look away from the abbot’s manic eyes.  His will was pouring into her mind though their shared gaze.  She tried to resist the new thoughts that filled her head, but they seemed to dissolve seamlessly into her conciousness.  Displacing her own goals and motivations, and replacing them with the abbot’s.

Eventually she felt even her own will to resist melt away.  Her breathing slowed, her eyes unfocused and her cares floated away.  She let the remainder of the abbot’s thoughts flow freely into her head.

“Dear saints!  Your mind is so yielding Téana.”  The abbot said in surprise.  “So easy to overwhelm and dominate.”

“Yes.”  Téa agreed simply, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

The old monk released her and stepped back.

“Strip her.”  He commanded the six monks who had held Téa down though her ordeal.

The monks unbuckled her three weapon belts and tossed them carelessly to the floor.  Her leathers and panties joined them shortly after.

Téa sat up.  She’d been held down on a circular alter which appeared to have been carved from a solid chunk of red marble.  The alter sat on a dais which was encircled by a wide moat of sparkling-clear water—obviously the scrying pool.

Around her were a multitude of the faceless blue/yellow monks.  Even in her trance she felt a flush of embarrassment at been exposed in front of so many.  She knew that were she not entrance she would also be feeling slightly afraid and extremely angry.

“Téana Hikari,” the abbot intoned, “as penance for your heretical act of desecration you will service every member of our brotherhood.  Brothers please form an orderly queue in descending rank please.”

“Wait…a mo.”  Téa slurred.  “You’re monks…right?  As in…monastic?  Aren’t you guys…supposed…to be celabate?”

The abbot looked at Téa for a long moment, then he walked over and placed a thumb on her forehead, “You will now be without speech.”

“Awwww…” Téa moaned.

“Brothers, please form a line.”  The old cat said as he shed his robes.

Téa, knowing what he intended and completely his puppet, scooted back until she was laying on the edge of the alter with her legs drawn up.

The abbot’s body was old and frail, but his equipment still seemed to be in working order.  His cock was hard and jumping in time with his rapid pulse.  He stepped between her spread open thighs, and positioned his six inches at her opening.  He stroked the left side of Téa’s body, from her budding breasts to her inner thigh.  Then, gripping her knees, he slammed his hips forward.

The second monk in line divested himself of his clothing and walked around the alter until he was standing at ten o’clock.  He took the now compliant vixen-herm by the shoulders and positioned her so that her muzzle was laying on the left edge of the alter.  Téa licked her lips and opened her mouth, as she came face to face with the monk’s cock.  The monk wasted no time.  He slid his already-dripping member into Téa’s willing maw, and began humping her.

Téa’s right hand drifted down to the spot, just above her girl parts, where her plumpening sheath lay.  The pink head of her maleness was just peaking out.  She coaxed the rest of it to full hardness with gentle squeezes—relishing the feel of skin sliding on skin as it engorged and slipped free.  Her fingers gently traced up and down the underside of her cock in time with the abbot’s thrusting.

The monk in her mouth came quickly.  Quickly filling her mouth with his salty flavour.  Téa swallowed the musky fluid obediently, then pulled off so she could tongue bathe the monk’s cock clean.  His last few spurts covered her muzzle.  She licked up the heavy strands, which linked her fur and his cock, eagerly.

A tap on he shoulder caused her to look round.  Behind her, at two o’clock, was another monk waiting for her mouth to become free.  Téa flipped sides and began pleasuring her third monk.

She was starting to build to a climax—with all the sensations she was experiencing it was going to be a big one.  Gripping her cock hard in her fist, she stroked herself vigorously.  Whimpers, then moans, began to escape her every time she exhaled.  Her breathing and heart rate shot up.  She was going to climax any moment.  She screwed up her eyes.

“You will now be without the ability to orgasm,” the thumb was on her forehead again, “and you will not pleasure yourself.”

“Gaaahhh!”  Téa moaned in frustration as the sensations continued to swell in her, but her release failed to arrive.

Her squirms and obvious discomfort were enough to push the abbot over the edge.  He slammed his hips into hers, and let loose a strangled yowl of delight.  For an old fur he managed an impressive load.  She could feel the hot tom spunk filling her.  Spent, exhausted and sated, he collapsed forward.  “Thank you Téana,” he breathed heavily as he licked her ear, “you’re such a good little cock pleaser.”

Téa moaned in protest as he pulled out.  On an instinctive level she still believed she only needed a little push to climax.  She welcomed the abbot’s replacement eagerly, her body telling her that she was only a few stokes away from heaven.  Her mind was ravaged.  There were no coherent thoughts—only the desire to take that last step over the edge and the instincts misdirecting her actions to that end.

She felt her new partner’s endowment pressing into the creamy whiteness the abbot had left behind—displacing the liquid with each stroke.  Forcing some of the cum deeper into her on the in-stroke, and drawing cum from her on the out-stroke.  The viscous liquid formed an air tight seal, for at least part of each stroke, and sticky squelchy noises mixed in harmony with Téa’s lust filled moans.

The fur on her right finished with her, pulling out eagerly in anticipation of his tongue bath and inadvertently dousing Téa with yet more cum.  Téa didn’t disappoint—the abbot’s thoughts and her own need wouldn’t let her—she expertly cleaned the cock on her right and then flipped over to suck on the male on her left.

It was about an hour, and many, many monks, later that the guards broke the doors down and streamed in en-masse.

Téa didn’t even blink, let alone stop sucking, but the reactions among the monks were many and varied.  Some moved towards the invaders, while others backed away surreptitiously.  Téa moaned in disappointment as her captors pulled out of her.  Without them or the ability to masturbate she was left with no way to get off.

The guards brandished batons, rather than their swords—they were there to raid the temple, not sack it.  Among the guards were Saria and the grey wolf from the market.  They fought alongside the guards, with fury and determination, but remembering to pull their attacks so as not to hurt the monks too much.

The monks swarmed Saria in particular, seeming deciding that a mage was an ‘easy’ mark.  They couldn’t have been more mistaken.  Although skill in physical combat was not a trait that mages with their sedentary profession were noted for, Saria was an SS-rank adventurer and an expert in close combat.

She dispatched the first three monks, using a variety of kicks and punch, before they had time to realise their mistake.  A couple tried to creep up and attack her from behind, but the senses of a mage are not easily fooled, and she clubbed them both with a swing of her staff.

Saria disliked using her staff as a weapon.  It was much more useful as a tool for magic than as a weapon, and although it was heavy and sturdy, there was always the possibility, however unlikely, of the staff splintering, which would leave her unable to cast certain spells until it was replaced.

The remaining monks, having seen her take down their brethren, were more cautious.  They attacked from just outside her reach, darting in for quick punches, rather than extended fighting—intending to wear her down if they couldn’t disable her immediately.  Saria weathered the beatings, she had endured far worse, and waited for opportunities to attack in return.

Perversely, she found this fight more difficult than the ones she had fought against stronger foes.  In those fights she would have been able to use her lunar bow.  It was frustrating to have to hold back when her enemies obviously had no compunctions about hurting her.

She saw a thumb reaching towards her.  Her arm shot out, catching the offending digit in her fist.  She grinned, then twisted.  There was a snapping sound as the bone broke.  The owner of the thumb howled out in pain, clutching his damaged paw.  There was another crunch as Saria’s fist connected with his muzzle.  The monk dropped to the floor.

Behind her the grey wolf was fighting with equal vigour.  He seemed to be favouring short bladed weapons, and his fists for this fight.

Initially Saria was concerned, but as she watched him fight it became clear that he was quite expert with his knives and swords.  Although he was inflicting some nasty cuts on his opponents, they were all landing in areas intended to disable rather kill.  Tendons and muscles were severed, and major veins and arteries were spared.

She watched as he systematically disabled his attackers in the order of the threat they posed, and then, once he was out of danger, finished them off with a few well placed punches and kicks.

Then the monk who had been using Téana’s mouth last did something really stupid.  He grabed one of Téa’s daggers from the floor, and held it against her throat—intending to use her as a hostage.  Téa made no sign she was even aware of the blade, but the grey wolf noticed.

He immediately finished the fight with his current opponent, with a high kick to his muzzle, and charged towards the alter screaming a terrible war cry as he went.

“Nnniiiiikkkkkeeeeennbbuuuu—”

He leapt the moat in one bound, landing on the polished red marble astride Téa.  Immediately he went into a spin—a blur of grey fur and silver steel.  He executed two, three hundred and sixty degree spins, his arms flying in a complicated pattern as he moved.  His foot work was so perfect that his boots never once even brushed the side of the supine girl beneath him.

It was only possible to work out what he had done after the fact.  The monk holding Téa’s dagger had a deep gash running across his right paw—it was doubtful he would ever regain the use of it.  The monk on Téa’s right had a lighter gash across one of his shoulders.  The monk between Téa’s legs had been the victim of a boot to the face and was out cold.  The two concious monks turned tail and ran naked into the mêlée.

The wolf watched grimly as they ran, but didn’t pursue.  Instead he stood over Téa’s defenceless form and attacked anybody who came within striking distance of the alter.

Téa sucked happily on the tip of his tail, glad to have something in her mouth again.  She showed no awareness of any of the fighting going on around her.

The fighters seemed fairly evenly matched at first, but the battle quickly turned.  The monks, who were experts in mental magic and not fighting, found that they were unable to get their opponents still for long enough to assert control over them.  Most of the monks turned tail and ran deeper into the temple, the guards hot on their trail.

Two figures jogged towards the alter as the room quickly emptied—Saria and the captain of guards.  They were both bruised and bedraggled looking from the battle, but otherwise unharmed.  The wolf lowered his swords as they approached, and stepped down off the alter.

“Téana!”  Saria cried as she approached, “are you okay?”

“Mrgh?”  Téa grunted.

All three rescuers looked on in concern.  Téa was coated with cum at both ends, and she was writhing on the alter in an unusual way.  She showed little awareness of their presence.

“Oh dear,” Saria said, biting her claws without realising it, “Téa?  Can you hear me?”

She placed a hand on Téa’s midriff, and began chanting.  A golden glow enveloped them both.  Téa seemed to calm down.

“Can you hear me now Téana?”  Saria asked again when it was over.

“Sar?”  Téa asked weakly.

“That’s right!”  Saria exclaimed in relief, “It’s okay Téa.  It’s over now.”

The captain stepped forward, “Téana, I promise that we will bring your kidnappers to justice.  We don’t tolerate crimes of this nature in Sanuman whether or not the perpetrators are men of the gods.”

Téa just nodded weakly, “Thank you, captian.”

“I should go coordinate with my men.  See how many they managed to catch.  Will she be okay?”  He asked Saria.

“Téa’s tough as nails.”  Saria assured him, “She’ll be okay.”

“Okay.”  The captain said as he turned to leave.

They watched him go.  Then Saria turned back to Téa.

“Téa, there is someone you should meet.”  She said, “Téana Hikari meet Kellian Tareza.”

“Kell.”  The big wolf insisted.  “Téana I am much indebted to you.  The healers say that if you hadn’t intervened, that guard would have been dead by the time they arrived.  Without his testimony I would have been imprisoned.”

“Kell was the one who talked the guards into letting us tag along.”  Saria explained.

“I think they were feeling a little guilty.  When that guard woke up and the first thing he wanted to do was shake my hand there were a lot of red faces—I’m a hero thanks to you Téana.”  Kell beamed, then his expression became more serious, “I owe you my freedom, my honour, and my good name—all of these things are very important to me.  I think I would rather die than compromise any one them.  So, Téana Hikari I pledge my loyalty, my life to you.  I will travel with you as your bodyguard and serve you in any way that I can.”

Téa’s eyes lit up, “I accept.”  She said immediately.

Kell smiled, “Thank you—”

“Shag me.”  Téa said.

“Wha?”  Kell was thrown off his stride.

“Shag me.”  Téa repeated.  “Those goat loving sons of splash pregnancies wouldn’t let me get off.”

“But—” Kell stammered.

“You pledged your loyalty to me,” Téa said, “so help me.  Help me over the edge.”

Kell stood there, the request obviously too much for his brain to process.

“I’ll—uh—just go check on the guards.”  Saria excused herself awkwardly.

“Shag me.”  Téa tried not to plead.

Kell just nodded, and began to strip.  He folded his clothes as neatly as he removed them, and laid them next to Téa’s on the ground.  When he removed his tented boxers Téa knew she had made the right choice.

Kell was very well endowed—a foot long at least—and he had one of the largest knots Téa had ever seen.

Téa spread her legs again as he approached.  Unintentionally making puppy-dog-eyes at him.  His hand traced the white stripe in her hair and cupped the back of her head pulling her into a long kiss.  He slipped into her and began slowly thrusting.  His free hand wrapped around Téa’s hardness.

Téa was a much more awake and active participant in the sex this time.  She arched back to meet his movements, and trust forward into his paw.  She groaned around Kell’s kisses and behind the lovers two tails, one grey and one gold, twitched.

Téa wrapped her arms around the wolf’s neck, pulling him closer to her.  Kell could feel Téa’s heart beat clearly as he held her.  Sensing her urgency he sped up his strokes and began to tweak the head of her shaft as he stroked it.  It was the tweaks that eventually gave Téa her long denied release.

Téa almost passed out when she came.  Ropes of Téa’s hot, sweet vixen cum covered the bellies both fighters.  Her orgasms were normally quite long lasting, but this time Téa climaxed for a whole eight minutes, her cum jetting from her like a firehose the entire time.  Téa’s cum coated them both from chin to groin—spread thickly across their chest’s by Téa’s writhing body and Kell’s tight embrace.  She locked her legs around the wolf’s waist, as she shook and shuddered—the size difference meaning her toes only just touched the base of his bushy tail.

Téa’s prolonged spasms sent Kell over the edge and he slammed hard into the vixen as he came.  His knot inflated in her much smaller body and they were tied.  He fell forward onto the alter, clutching the still-orgasming fox in his arms, pinning her beneath him.  He growled instinctively, and made a number of short sharp thrusts as he released his thick seed.  Téa gasped in discomfort at the sharp sensations each tug of Kell’s knot brought her, but enjoyed them anyway.  Each tug seeming to punctuate a wave of pleasure, delimiting it from the next.

Téa was still in the throes of orgasm when Kell’s had subsided, despite having reached climax first.  Kell, just held her protectively as she rode out the sensations that had long been denied to her.  He tenderly licked at Téa’s muzzle, neck and ears as he enjoyed his afterglow and the pleasant feelings that came from being hilted in the excited herm.

Eventually both their mutual orgasms subsided and the still-tied pair rested on the alter.  Without words Kell knew what to do next.  He lifted the breathless Téa into his arms, carried her to the scrying pool and stepped into the water with her.  Ropes of cum slowly washed off their entwined bodies as they bathed their fur and their wounds in the cool bath.

At some point their hugs gave way to kisses, and their kisses eventually led to another round of sex, and another bath.

❖ ❖ ❖


Vassallo strode through the deepest corridors of his citadel with purpose.

He was, for the moment at least, very pleased.  His plan was coming together nicely.  All those years of careful schemes, demonic pacts, stealthy manoeuvres, and the occasional murder—they had all been leading to this.  His ultimate goal was almost within his grasp.

Which is why he needed to talk to Polori.  Polori was, in theory if not in fact, the absolute ruler of Junglara.  Furthermore, he was astonishingly careless.  An ill-informed order from Polori might be all it took to unravel Vassallo’s bid for power.  Which is why Vassallo insisted that Polori was kept apprised of Vassallo’s schemes.

Vassallo tired of this duty, but he couldn’t delegate it.  Explaining things to Polori was an artform.  First it was necessary to drag his attention from whatever it was that occupied it at the time—usually an entranced slave girl.  Then came the monumental task of explaining—usually several times—the situation in words and sentences short enough for the king to comprehend.  Finally, Vassallo would have to get Polori to explain what he had just been told, so he could be sure that the king really understood and wasn’t just saying he did.

Not that the elephant could ever hope to truly understand or appreciate his ultimate designs—he was far too dense for that.

Vassallo came to the doors of the king’s bedchamber.  There were no guards posted, and no need for them—in this part of the citadel his control was near absolute.  Without knocking, he opened them and marched in.

Polori knelt, naked, at the head of his four poster bed.  The bed was one of the few things that remained of the previous king’s possessions.  Polori had had the rest of the room, and much of the rest of the citadel for that matter, redecorated to his tastes after his coronation.

Attached to the bed was Polori’s new toy—a tortoiseshell manx kitten in a sling—Vassallo had dubbed it ‘the swallow’.  The king was slamming into the kitten—who was only slightly larger than than the cock she was riding—furiously.  If the purrs and moans emanating from the kitten were any indication, the manx was quite enjoying the treatment.

“Polori,” Vassallo began, “More news from Loveless.  She has narrowed the location of Tear to a region on the borders of Junglara, Sandrune and Lanreal Kingdom.”

“Urgh!”  Polori grunted as he thrust, “That’s good Vassallo!”  He roared.

It was obvious he hadn’t paid Vassallo any attention at all.  The vizier sighed—it was going to be one of those very difficult explanations.  He resigned himself to waiting, he would have a much better chance of getting the elephant’s attention immediately after his climax.  It was his own fault, Vassallo mused, if he hadn’t done such a good job on the swallow he wouldn’t have this problem now.

The swallow was a masterpiece of perverted art.  To describe it simply as a girl-in-a-sling was to do it a disservice.  The main part of the sling was a wide strap of black leather which went around the girl’s torso, and attached to the rails of the king’s bed.  Ten smaller strips of leather ran from the rails to the girl’s outspread finger tips, where they were attached by tiny barbell piercings.

Vassallo smiled, as he recalled the moment of inspiration that led him to realise the elastic spell, which he cast on the girl to allow her to take the king’s impressive length, could also be used to put piercings through the soft pads of her fingers.

Two final straps wrapped around the girl’s calves, holding her legs spread up and out at ninety degrees.  It was the leg straps which had made him settle on the name.  He had been going to call his creation ‘the angel’, but the v-shape formed by the legs reminded him of the tail of the swallow, and he thought the name an improvement anyway.

Of course the real beauty of the swallow was that, thanks to the positioning of the straps, the ‘wings’ appeared to flap in time with the user’s thrusting.

To Vassallo mind-warping fursons into his obedient slaves was an artform and a hobby, something he did when he wanted to unwind and try his creativity.  Normally interrupting his ‘work’ to bend a girl’s mind for the king annoyed him, but he had to admit he had outdone himself this time.

Vassallo tickled the kitten under her chin.  The empty-eyed manx tilted her head up in response and giggled in delight.  She was totally oblivious to the fact her internal organs were being fatally rearranged.  Elastic spell, or no, Vassallo reckoned the little kitten had less than a week before her body gave up.  Fortunately, for the girl at least, the king would most likely lose interest in her before that happened.

Polori let loose a yell which reverberated around the chamber, and his cum exploded back from between the girl’s thighs.  Vassallo smiled—now he would be able to talk with the king.  

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