Battle Wounds

	The party sat around the tavern fireplace, drinking and swapping stories while a tavern maid hovered nearby with a jug of beer to refill the adventurers’ mugs as they emptied. The mood was one of joy and celebration as the party revelled into the night. The tavern maid kept the alcohol flowing into them and the silver flowing out. The party was only too happy to spend their hard won silver on every fancy that crossed their mind, no matter the cost.

	Jonos, the ranger who had led the party through the ghost town they had liberated their new wealth from, was indulging in a selection of fine foods he had ordered. He had been talking about this since before the party left on their adventure and could finally make his dream a reality. He was a skinny man who was used to living off the land and whatever scraps of food he could find day to day, but now he was eating like a king and impressing his fellow adventurers with how much food he was able to devour. He hardly spoke as he tore large shreds of roast beef off the bone and washed it down with the tavern’s best ale. He chased the roast down with a thick slab of mushroom and gravy pie. He did this with no consideration to his appearance. He let the mixture of gravy and ale drip off his chin and fall onto his clothes. His hands were covered in sauce and food, as he had long forsaken the use of a knife and fork. He was lost in his food, but still roared with laughter at the stories of the other adventurers.

	Sitting near the food-crazed ranger was Marla, the party’s designated magician. She was a beautiful woman with a tall and slender body she kept hidden under a fine sapphire robe. She was not indulging like the ranger was, but was saving her money until she returned to the city where she would boy only the best and finest things the markets could offer her. She wanted clothes and jewellery and objects of magical power. In the tavern she contented herself with a large pitcher of red wine. At first she had poured herself a fresh glass from the pitcher, but after a few glasses had started to simply drink from the jig. She amused her party with magical tricks played out on the table as she grew progressively drunker. 

	Also at the table by the fire was Magnus, a burly man with a thick beard and large mouth. He gulped down pint after pint of beer as he told stories of passed victories. His laughter could be heard by half the town every time he broke into raucous laughter. He would slam his mug on the table to emphasis everything his said. He did it so much that he had already broken several ceramic mugs. The tavern didn’t care, however, as he quickly dropped enough silver coins to replace whatever he broke several times over and was quickly given a new mug. 

	Two of the party’s members were not partaking in the fun, however. Annora, the group’s apothecary was in the tavern’s kitchen, mixing herbs into a thick soup and arranging a tray of other food and drink. She was something of an outside among the other adventurers. While the others had been exploring and fighting together for years, Annora was a new hire. She was brought in to replace a party member who had died of poisoning during the group’s last foray into strange lands. Her gift with herbs and medicines was useful so she was given a job, but she was by far the least experienced of them. For this reason she often felt left out and unwanted. She had no great strength like Magnus, or magical mastery like Marla. She could not read the world like it was a book like Jonos could, either. She was not a diplomat or shrewd negotiator. In fact her interpersonal skills were quite wanting. She had the softly rounded body of a baker and mousy brown hair atop a gentle and kind face; hardly the features of an adventurer or tomb raider. She was simply Annora the Apothecary; someone who was brought along “just in case”. The others had not been hostile to her or anything, but they had not gone out of their way to be friendly or welcoming either. Only Byron had done that.

	Byron was the other missing member of the party. He was upstairs in bed, unable to join the others in their merrymaking. It was for him that Annora made the small tray of food and medicine. She carried it up the creaking staircase to the second floor of the tavern. The sounds of the party faded away, except for Magnus who was loud enough to wake the dead. The entered the dim room where Byron slept and sat the tray down on the bedside table. A single candle barely illuminated the room, but it was enough for Annora to see Byron’s sleeping face. He was a handsome man with a short beard that had grown out during the party’s adventure. He had the chiselled good looks of a proper man, as Annora liked to see it. She watched him quietly for a moment. She could still hear Magnus downstairs but otherwise the room was quiet and still.

	Though she had not admitted it to anyone, Annora had been crushing on the young adventurer the moment she laid eyes on him when he and his group arrived in her village. It was one of the reasons she had agreed to come along on their adventure. He was everything she admired in a man: strong, coolly intelligent under pressure and suave in all situations she had seen him in. He had been the friendlies and most welcoming of the adventurers and Annora hoped, maybe, that she could get closer to him. Now that he was bedridden and replying on her to heal him quickly, it was the perfect chance for her to do just that. He would be grateful to her and she would be only too happy to let him show his appreciation. She blushed deeply at the thought of it.

	The official story for Byron’s injuries was that he had suffered them while fighting off a band of Kroadids, the lizard-men of the western marshes. He killed two but the third managed to sink its venomous teeth into his leg and damn-near yank it off before he killed it with his spear. The cracked ribs were the result a Kroadid club and the twisted ankle was suffered during his miraculous escape from their net. This was the story the party had agreed to tell as it was far more interesting than the truth. What had actually happened was that while Byron was performing a comic jig atop a partially sunken temple in the western marshes, he had slipped, tumbled down the staircase and landed on top of a young thorn tree. The “teeth marks” in his leg were in fact the puncture marks from a dozen or so long thorns that vaguely resembled a Kroadid’s teeth. As the unofficial leader of the small party, Byron made the others swear to only ever tell the official story of events. His wounds quickly became infected  as a result of the muddy swamp water and so since they had arrived at the tavern, he had been confined to his bed on Annora’s orders. 

	The covers of the straw-stuffed bed rose and fell with each of Byron’s breaths. It was still a steady rhythm which was good, Annora noted. She gently shook the sleeping man until he groaned and rolled onto his back in the bed. 

	‘What is it?’ he mumbled with his eyes shut.

	‘Dinner time, Byron,’ Annora said sweetly. 

	Byron slowly sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. There were still dark bruises on his handsome face from the fall down the steps of the temple. No, Annora corrected, from where a Kroadid had hit him with its tail. That was the story. 

	‘What is it tonight?’ he asked, looking at the tray of things Annora had brought him.

	‘First of all,’ Annora said, placing the tray in Byron’s lap, ‘is a chicken soup with carrots, peas and mushrooms. It’ll help the infection in your leg.’

	‘Can’t you just rub some herbs on it like last time?’ Byron asked.

	‘Last time was just a small infection. This time I need to wait until the swelling has gone down some before applying balms,’ Annora explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

	‘How long will that take?’ Byron asked as he tried the first spoon of soup.

	‘Probably a few days,’ Annora replied.

	‘That’s too long!’ Byron protested, nearly spilling his soup. ‘I need to be out of bed tomorrow.’

	‘That’s not going to happen, Byron,’ Annora told him as gently as she could.

	‘Why not?’

	‘You’ll only make the infection worse. If it spreads or gets any worse you might have amputate it,’Annora replied, making a chopping motion with her hand for emphasis. 'And with your ribs in the state they're in you'll be lucky if you can breath at all after walking around.'

	Byron seemed to relax with a huff. He might hate being stuck in a bed all day but having his leg cut off would be far worse. He drank his soup while Annora sat and watched over him like a matron.

	When he finished, Annora took away the bowl and handed him a mug of fresh water which she forced Byron to drink, despite his demands for beer instead. Byron drank it begrudgingly. 

	‘Now can I get my beer, please?’ Byron asked, annoyed.

	‘After I change your bandages,’ Annora answered as she collected a fresh strip of linen to replace the old one tied around Byron’s thigh.

	‘Why do you need to do that?’

	‘If I leave the old one on you’re going to get gangrene,’ Annora explained.

	‘What’s that?’

	‘Pretty much your flesh just rots off your bone,’ Annora answered bluntly.

	‘Oh, that!’ Byron exclaimed. ‘Yeah, please change it then. Um – one problem though.’

	‘What?’

	‘I took my breeches off,’ Byron said, sounding almost embarrassed. 

	Annora had never seen him embarrassed by anything. Not even the silly dance he had been doing that landed him in this situation. 

	‘You mean, you’re…’

	‘Naked from the waist down. Yes.’

	Annora felt her face redden as the thought occurred to her of what was under the bed sheets. 

	‘If it’s embarrassing I can keep ¬it covered,’ Byron offered.

	‘Um – sure. Probably a good idea,’ Annora replied, trying to keep her red face hidden and the cheeky grin off her face.
Byron removed his leg from under the sheets, while keeping what was between his legs hidden. Annora could easily see where it would be, however, and the thought of it was proving hard to get out of her head. 

	She carefully removed the bandages from Byron’s leg and examined the wound underneath. It still looked very infected and swollen. The thorns – Kroadids – had really done a number on his muscular thigh. It didn’t look as bad as could be, however, and that was a good sign. Annora replaced the bandages and Byron’s injury was covered again with clean, fresh linen. From downstairs, another of Magnus’ mighty roars of laughter drifted up.

	‘Can I at least go down for a drink? It sounds like they’re having fun,’ Byron asked.

	‘You really shouldn’t.’

	‘I guess I’ll just go back to sleep then,’ Byron sighed.

	‘Why not read a book?’ Annora suggested.

	Byron looked a little uncomfortable as he shifted in his bed. 

	‘I don’t know how to read,’ he said flatly.

	Annora raised an eyebrow in surprise and confusion. 

	‘Yes you can. I’ve seen you read parchments and posters several times,’ Annora said.

	‘I can read a few words and I just guess what the rest is about,’ Byron replied quickly. He was clearly embarrassed by it.

	‘Well then,’ Annora said, getting to her feet. ‘I’ll help you learn some more.’

	She disappeared from the room and returned a moment later carrying a heavy, leader-bound book with pages that were darkly stained with age. She brushed away the dust from the pages and carefully thumbed it open to a page near the centre.

	‘What book is this?’ Byron asked.

	‘A book of stories collected from across the land,’ Annora said as she flattened the front page of a story.

	The ink on the page was pitch black and so deeply stained into the paper that nothing short of setting the book on fire could destroy the words. The cover was expertly stained to depict a green field with a red dragon soaring through the blue sky. It had faded over the years and the leather was cracked in places, but the artistry was still there and would remain there longer after ever one in this story had died and the book was confined to a museum. 

	Annora chose and story and began to read. Byron relaxed in his bed and listened, occasionally chiming in with a question.

	‘What’s a fornicator?’ he asked after Annora read a passage about a paladin slaying a demon. He had called the demon a “fornicator and devourer of men”.

	‘It’s another word for… you know, doing it,’ Annora blushed.

	‘It? What do you mean?’

	‘Don’t make me say it,’ Annora said, blushing a deeper shade of red. She was glad the candle light made it hard to see her face.

	‘Say what? I’m honestly confused,’ Byron insisted.

	‘It’s another word for sex. People who aren’t married having sex is fornication,’ Annora blurted out quickly.

	‘Oh. I thought everyone did that,’ Byron said.

	‘Well these stories like to pretend people are better than that,’ Annora replied.

	‘And what about you? Are you a fornicator?’ Byron asked with a sly smile.

	Annora thought her face would burst into flames if it got any redder.

	‘I don’t… I don’t know,’ she mumbled.

	‘It’s a pretty easy question. You’re a cute girl; I’m sure you had the village boys trying to get it on with you,’ Byron laughed.
Annora had to cover her mouth to stop herself from giggling.

	‘I guess I am, but only a little bit,’ she admitted in a low voice.

	Byron laughed then cringed when his ribs reminded him they were broken in several places.

	‘So who was it then?’ Byron asked. 

	‘The butcher’s son,’ Annora said, keeping her voice soft in case anyone should hear her little confession. Another burst of laughter from downstairs made her jump. Annora felt silly for being so jumpy, but the conversation was making her feel on edge in a good way. She wanted to continue, but also wanted to stop and calm down.

	‘Ah,’ Byron said with an approving smile. ‘Classic: the butcher’s son and the baker’s daughter sneaking away for some awkward fumbling behind the barn.’

	‘And a little roll in the hay,’ Annora giggled. 

	Byron laughed gently. ‘Was it good?’

	Annora shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t really know. Compared to what?’

	‘Well did you have fun? How long did it last?’ Byron asked, sitting up in his bed a little.

	Annora had to think for a moment. It was fun at the time, having his hands explore her body and touch her in places that made her hands tremble with excitement and nerves. How good it had felt when he held her by the hips and inserted himself into her wet pussy. Annora bit her lip at the memory of the sensations and that amazing building tension in her belly that had gone nowhere. She wasn’t sure what had happened but a part of her was certain she had missed something.

	‘Yeah it was,’ she answered finally. ‘I don’t miss him though. My life is much more interesting now.’

	‘Did you cum?’

	‘What?’ Annora asked, raising an eyebrow.

	‘Did you cum? You know, that feeling you get when you have sex’, Byron explained.

	‘Oh. I don’t know. How can I tell if I did?’

	‘If you did, you’d have known. Trust me,’ Byron said.

	Annora huffed. She knew she’d been denied something and now she wanted to know what it was.

	‘How can I tell if a guy cums?’ she asked.

	‘Did he shoot some sticky white stuff onto you?’

	Annora nodded. 

	‘That’s how you tell,’ Byron said. ‘Where did he do it?’

	‘Um – Mostly on my back but once on my lips,’ Annora replied, touching the spots she remembered the butcher’s son cumming on.

	‘Did you like it?’ Byron asked. His voice sounded different now. It was a little strained and shaky.

	‘It tasted funny but not… bad. I guess I did.’

	‘Would you do it again?’ Byron asked. 

	Annora was about to answer when she spotted a lump which had grown in the middle of the bed. Her heart began to beat faster still. Her hands were trembling like she was standing naked in the snow and it took great effort to keep her voice steady.

	‘I’d like to,’ she said. She suddenly realised that was not what she had meant to say and quickly corrected herself. ‘I mean – I wouldn’t mind.’

	Byron laughed gently. ‘Well, if you like, I can probably show you some things your friend could not,’ he offered.

	Annora bit at her trembling fingers and looked back at the curtain door to where the sounds of the party were drifting in.

	‘They won’t hear us. I promise,’ Byron assured her. 

	‘I don’t know,’ Annora mumbled, holding her hand to her lips and eying the lump anxiously. ‘But… it might help with your recovery.’

	Byron didn’t say a word as Annora slowly knelt down by the edge of the bed and slid her hand under the covers, towards the lump. She gasped loudly when her smooth hand wrapped around a hot rod of solid flesh. She was genuinely shocked by the size of it. She had never imagined that this thing could be so large. The butcher’s son did not have anything as large and intimidating as what Annora found hiding under the blanket. She licked her lips and tightened her grip around it.

	‘I don’t if I’ll be able to do much since I’m all broken,’ Byron admitted with a little embarrassment. 

	Annora didn’t reply for a moment. She was too distracted by the hot thing in her hand. She couldn’t see it but her fingers were painting an image in her head. She felt a tense knot in her stomach which tightened every second she held Byron’s rod.

	‘That’s alright,’ she mumbled to Byron. 

	‘Why don’t you take your clothes off?’ he suggested. 

	Annora nodded and reluctantly let go her hidden toy. She stood up and undid the buttons of her emerald bodice. Too excited to feel shame, Annora next dropped her blue skirt to the floor and stood nude by the side of the bed. Warm candle light flickered across her nubile form. Her perky breasts stood out young and full with erect nipples begging to be sucked. Between her legs was a small bush of mousy brown and curly hair that hid a set of lips flushed with excitement and wet with the juices of a hungry, youthful body that had gone too long without the touch of a man. 

	Annora touched herself without realising it. Her hands caressed the smooth skin on her breasts and gently teased the tuft of hair between her legs. She could feel Byron’s eyes drinking her in and that aroused her more. She had been watching him for a while and felt nothing in return, but now his attention was fixed solely on her. He wanted her and she knew it. 

	She pulled the blanket down to passed Byron’s knees. Her eyes locked on to the tower of meat coming out of Byron’s pelvis. It looked so similar to the butcher’s son’s but bigger, thicker and attached to a set of balls that Annora could not fit in one hand. She laid herself adjacent to Byron, but lower down the bed so she could better admire the shaft of hypnotic flesh before her. She pressed her naked body against Byron’s muscle form, being careful not to touch his broken parts. He felt hot against her while she felt hot against him. She slowly caressed his thigh with her leg as she gripped his cock loosely in her hand and rubbed it up and down. 

	Byron looked down, at the top of Annora’s head. He gently stroked her smooth head of hair and caressed the back of her neck. Byron was a man of the world and had been with many women, he had to admit to himself that this young alchemist was something special. Her youth and naivety were endearing. He had seen her eyeing him over the weeks and suspected she might have a childish crush on him but honestly had no plans to exploit her. That said, he was glad she was acting on her desires now. Her soft hands felt incredible around his shaft and took his mind off the pain that racked through him.

	Annora looked up at him with large young eyes full of excitement.

	‘Can I get on top of you?’ she asked.

	‘Of course,’ Byron replied. 

	He cringed slightly when Annora put weight on his injured thigh, but did his best to ignore it and focus on the pair of young breasts that now hung in front of his face. He moved up and kissed Annora’s chest with eager lips. Annora moaned softly as she pressed her breasts into Byron’s rugged face. His rod was not yet inside her, but pressed against her. She held the tip of it flat against her belly and rubbed her hips against the shaft. She felt that similar knot of tension growing inside her belly and that building sense of something large that had always eluded her before. She wrapped her arm around Byron’s neck and pressed deeper into her chest, gasping when he took one of her nipples into his mouth.

	They continued like this for several minutes until Annora could no longer stand it. Her knot had tightened to the point of snapping, but refused to finally break. She needed him inside her.

	Its size had scared her at first but Annora felt none of that fear as she pushed the head of Byron’s shaft into her wet opening and slide down on it. Annora shut her mouth tightly so she would not cry out with pleasure. Every inch of Byron’s shaft made her want to scream with joy. Only by the force of willpower did she keep her shouts of bliss to a steady moan. Her mind went blank as her body took over. She raised and lowered herself on Byron’s shaft, moving it around inside of her so every part of her inner self was caressed by it. 

	Finally, Annora felt her knot snap. It recoiled violently inside of her and lashed about, sending her into a fit of limitless pleasure. Her hips bucked hard on Byron’s pelvis and her legs snapped shut around him, forgetting completely about the delicate state of the man beneath her.

	Byron groaned with pain as all his injuries were at once hit. This sudden surge of pain triggered a second reaction with him. He found himself unleashing inside of Annora. He felt hot streams of cum erupt from his cock and flood his young lover’s interior. Annora’s rhythmic tensing only prolonged his painful orgasm. The nubile alchemist didn’t seem to notice the thick cream filling her as she selfishly extended her first orgasm as long as she could.

	Moments later, breathing heavily, Annora looked down at Byron with glazed eyes. 

	‘That was… amazing,’ she whispered to him in a dreamy, distant voice.

	‘It was something,’ Byron noted with a grin. 

	The orgasm had dulled the pain and mixed to create an interesting sensation, but Byron felt satisfied. He had to stop Annora from lying on top of him. His ribs could not stand the weight of her body. Annora wanted to cuddle and kiss Byron’s muscled body but settled with lying beside him and gently holding him. She kissed his biceps and pressed her body as close to him as she could. Her thighs were wet with Byron’s cum mixed with her own. She rubbed the mixture into her matted bush and over her wet lips. Already she was beginning to want more of Byron’s throbbing shaft inside her. How much longer did she say he had to be confined to his bed? Perhaps she should extend it, she thought with a grin. Not that it mattered really; she could have him anywhere now.