Date: Tue, 23 Mar 2021 16:27:47 +0000
From: Cliffy B <bootusrim@gmail.com>
Subject: Might and Magic

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All events are fiction. All characters are a figment of imagination. All
character's represented in this story are 18 or over.

Hope you enjoy, any feedback is welcomed and much appreciated. E-mail me
at: bootusrim@gmail.com.

Authors note: This one's a bit of a slow burner, with a bit of info to get
across, however, I promise you there's some sexy stuff in here!

Might and Magic

Taking another swig of my pint, I give a half-interested look over to the
opening door of the tavern. Expecting to glimpse the usual type of patron
– beaten down adventurers and bedraggled drunks- I do a double-take as
my eyes register the colourful tunic and bright smile.

Letting my eyes give the stranger a look over, I take in his youthful,
handsome, excited face and hair the colour of autumn leaves. A collection
of browns, yellows and oranges arranged in a neat trim. His skin pale and
untouched by the concerns and harsh realities of life

At a guess, I'd say he's 18, maybe 20, and from a rich family. He has a
soft look to him and the air of someone who's read too many stories about
adventurers and heroes. An attitude that suggests he thinks it must be such
fun, filled with glory and treasure. The type of person who once they get a
dose of reality will go crying back to mommy and daddy.

Downing the last of my pint, I start to forget about the out of place
stranger when I hear a thud of a pack being dropped beside me and the stool
to my right becoming occupied. The glint of orange and waft of lavender
tells me who it is without any need to turn my head.

"Excuse me, a refill for my friend here please." As Mourtum –the
bartender- refills my glass, I get a better look at the fresh-faced
stranger.

Dressed in an emerald green cloth tunic - the edges of the sleeves and
collar trimmed with a golden thread - worn under a dark leather chest
piece. Stylish but not going to protect you from much.

"So, what brings you to a place like this?" I look at the kid out the
corner of my eye as I take a large gulp from my renewed pint.  "Well, I'm
here to seek adventure, journey to the corners of the Earth and slay the
enemies of man!" Chest puffed out, back straight, the line sounds
rehearsed.  "Oh, really?" I give him a sarcastically quizzical look.
"Yes." He looks a little hurt before the smile returns in full form.  "You
sure you're up to all that?" Sure, everyone's gotta start somewhere,
however, if you come into this life without proper preparation and
expecting sunshine and glory then you won't last long.  "I'll have you know
I often came first in community duelling tournaments and all my teachers
say I have an adventurous spirit." He gives me a look of pride as if he
thinks this will genuinely prepare him for actual combat and the life of an
adventurer.  "Well, maybe you should become a professional duelist. I hear
they're all the rage in Passillia." Make a pretty penny and be drowning in
women.  "Pfft, they're all a bunch of pampered wannabes. I want to be where
the real action is, where the real work is being done, keeping those phones
safe while they fake combat while sucking their own cocks." I like the
kids' attitude. I couldn't have said it better myself.  "Alright then,
mister first place duelist, I wish you all the luck in your adventure."
There's an awkward silence between us as I finish the pint he bought me.
"Well, I guess I'd best be getting on then." I sigh inwardly. I wish he
hadn't sat down next to me.

It's not that I'm some grumpy old warrior that hates company and only
wishes to be left alone. It's just at –roughly- 34 years old, more than
half my life's been dedicated to the adventurers' lifestyle and it's taking
its toll. Every day the joints hurt a little more. Every day the armour's
just that little bit heavier and the axe that little more difficult to
lift.

If a warrior gets to flirt with their 40's they're either really skilled or
really lucky. It doesn't matter which, because either way they both run out
in the end. If I don't choose to retire soon, it'll be forced upon me, if
you get my meaning.

"Alright, kid. How about I go with you on your first adventure?" I can't
let him go alone.  "You mean it?" He stops picking up his pack and beams up
at me.  "Sure. Shall we see if anyone needs any help? Go to the board over
there and pick a job." While my death is still uncertain, if the lad goes
out there on his own, he's not coming back. I can't send him off to die
like that. Not alone.  "You really sure?" I can't help but give the
slightest smile as he excitedly smiles up at me.  "Yeah, but it'll be a
70," I point to myself "and 30 split." I point to him.  "Deal." My bare
handshakes with his light brown leathered glove. "I'm Julian." He looks up
at me, bright-eyed.  "Vicks." I return with a wary look of my own.

The kid excitedly makes his way to the old noticeboard in the corner at the
end of the bar.

The Old Plough Inn isn't much to look at. Small, murky, dingy, with the
scent of a century of spilt beer, vomit, piss and blood. But it's one of
few buildings out here in the countryside that isn't to do with
farming. There's a few cottages scattered around, homes of retirees seeking
the quiet life, but not a bustling town or city. Perfect for an old
adventurer winding down his career. Or drunks looking to forget their
past. Or outlaws making an honest living while they're hiding out.

The jobs that get posted here aren't spectacular but pay well enough for a
hot meal and one of the Inn's many cramped rooms. Mainly chasing off wolves
or guarding some produce to be taken to market in the morning. Should do
for a fresh-faced, rich boy playing at being an adventurer.

"I've got one from a farmer asking to help with a gang of goblins." Oh
great. Everyone's been avoiding that one for the past week. See, Goblins
aren't that troublesome themselves, it's just the caves are usually cramped
and dark. Pain in the ass. Or, more accurately, the lower back.  "Okay," I
take the poster and give it a quick read over. Taking in the where and how
much, "right well it's not far from here, maybe an hour on foot." There
wasn't much coin in it, but it's better than nothing. Plus, having a clean
conscience of knowing I didn't send a kid out to die would be priceless.
"Great! Shall we get going?" He bends over in front of me and picks up his
size-able pack.  "Hey, kid, why don't you store your gear in my room," he
gives me a sceptical look, "as I said it isn't far, it'd be best if we
travel light. We should be back before the early hours of the morning."
With a little bit of hesitation, he hands me the pack.

With a bit of effort, I haul myself from the stool. Leaving him at the door
to the inn, I go up the tavern steps, each one threatening to break under
the weight of my black onyx armour. The thin layer of chainmail underneath
doesn't help either.

Squeezing into the room, I plop his pack down beside the small bed. I pick
up my gauntlets, my battle axe and two torches. Giving myself a look over
in the scratched, stained mirror, I give my short, dark hair a quick smooth
down. I haven't bothered shaving this morning so the stubble's thick,
however, it'll have to do. Not that I'm trying to impress the kid, it's
just when meeting a client it's best to look your best.

Taking a deep breath I leave the small room and take the steps back
down. Am I really doing this? Putting myself at risk for a fancy boy with a
hero complex?

Meeting the kind, glowing smile of my new companion, my stomach gives a
little flutter as I try to keep my own face as neutral as possible.

Walking out of the tavern, I can properly size him up. While most wouldn't
say he's small, next to my 6'3" bulky frame he becomes a little dwarfed. I
guess he's under 6', an obvious result of a good upbringing. Along with his
white, bright complexion, it's obvious he's been spoilt throughout his
life.

Cream pantaloons and leather boots that match his gloves complete his
costume. Peeking out the sides of his tunic is the hilt of a sword. It
looks to be of decent quality. The shine of the pummel suggests a lack of
previous use. Let's just hope it isn't just decorative.

The walk to the farm wasn't a long one. Daddy's little boy spent most of
the journey talking about the heroes and adventures he'd grown up reading
about. Thankfully, he couldn't see my knowing smile when he started going
on about the Twelve Trials of Harold. He didn't talk about his family or
where he comes from and I didn't ask.

Getting to the small farmhouse, I knock gently on the old, wooden door. For
a moment I thought it might come off its rusted hinges. Or even cause its
wooden walls and thatched roof to fall in on itself.

"Hello?" A small, shrivelled man answers the door. The leathery, tanned
skin and crooked stature suggest a man who's spent his life out in the sun,
tending to fields.  "We're here about the job." I hold up his poster,
hoping it isn't a fake or the old man's memory hasn't deserted him as to
not remember posting it.  "Oh, thank The Provider! I was starting to
believe no one would come!" The old man's, wrinkled hands clasp around the
gauntlet holding the poster. His wrinkled brow straightens out for a moment
as if a weight is lifted from him. And passed on to me. "About a week ago,
I noticed my cabbages were starting to rot." Letting go of my hand he
starts pointing to an area I assume the cabbages are grown.  "Well,
vegetables do have a habit of going off." People don't like admitting their
faults and as such have a tendency of blaming goblins, gremlins, pixies,
fairies and other magics for their own failings or the inconveniences of
nature.  "Yeah, but they've been rotting in the ground. Before they're even
ripe for picking." He looks up at me with a knowing look of
confidence. "So, I decided to sit out and watch the field one night, see
what was happening, and low and behold a group of gobs comes strolling
up. So, in the morning I has a little look around, see if I could find
where the buggers are `iddin. Well, not a few feet from my back fences
there's an entrance carved into the side of a mound. I bets that's where
they be." What's left of the man's thin, white hairs flop around as he
animatedly describes the events.  "How many goblins did you see?" Can't be
too many, else there'd be even less meat on his bones than there currently
is.  "Oooooh, no more than 8 or 9." Should be easy enough.  "Alright, well,
we'll see what we can do for you." I give him a curt nod as I turn back
down the path, a wave of gratitude coming from the weather warn cottage.
"So, what's the plan?" The kid's been waiting at the end of the path on my
instruction. At least he seems obedient.  "We go scout out the area, then
wait for nightfall. Goblins are nocturnal. No need to go crawling through a
cramped hole if we don't have to."

Taking a path that snakes around to the back of the farm, we jump a small
fence and find a dirt road leading down towards a hill in the distance. The
other route leading to a wooded area.

As we get closer, the cave entrance becomes evident. The path starts to
sink beneath the verge on either side as we get closer, causing an almost
tunnelled effect. Leading us into the darkness of the cave.

The path leads to a clearing as the dirt walls move away to the left and
right. I move my axe from my left hand to lay across my body, held steady
but loose in both hands. The area looks clear, but without a full view, you
never know what's lurking.

Walking into the clearing, I notice movement to my right.

I turn in time to see a green blur heading towards me, my reflexes just
sharp enough to be able to dodge a crude metal edge heading towards my
head.

Taking a couple of steps back, I get some space between us, giving me
enough room to slash my axe in a wide arc, causing a spray of dark, viscous
purple blood to pour out from the new gash across its stomach.

With a strangled cry, the creature goes down, clutching at its stomach.

Satisfied it was no longer a threat, I look to see another green mass
charging towards me. Moving my axe above my head, I let my enemy close the
gap between us before bringing it down with crushing force.

The creature tries to raise its own battered sword to protect itself,
however, it was too slow, late and weak to stop my swing.

Its head and face explode open as my axe cleaves through
effortlessly. Within seconds my axe blade embeds itself into the ground,
leaving the chest to peel open along the sternum, spilling purple, writhing
organs onto the dirt.

With a bit of effort, I yank the point of my battle axe out of the ground.

Taking a heaving sigh of air into my lungs, I hear thunderous footsteps
coming towards me. Moving my right foot to my side, I give myself enough
leverage to once again whirl my weapon, one-handed, to the right of me. The
deadly edge effortlessly severing muscle, skin, sinew and bone as the head
flies off. Without a captain, its body continues to run for a couple of
paces, weakly crashing into me before limply falling to the now dark, muddy
ground.

Before I can look for further danger, I hear a sharp, desperate
cry. Remembering the kid, I quickly turn on my heels to find an orc
standing over him, a dull blade poised to be trusted threw his head as he
lay, vulnerable, on the ground.

Without thought, I glide across the gap between us, lifting my axe over my
right shoulder, I swiftly bring it down, slicing into the back of the
green, hairless head; splitting skull and embedding it into its brain.

Giving out a final garbled grunt, the beast goes limp at the end of my
weapon. The sudden weight catches me slightly off guard as I have to brace
myself.

Planting my feet, I carefully pull my axe up; the lifeless body coming with
it, like some horrific puppet. The skull and brains sticking it to the
blade.

With a bit of effort, I manage to fling the body away to join its friends.

Looking down at the kid, I see the unbridled terror in his eyes. A look
I've seen many times. On the positive side, it means he's still
alive. Maybe more alive than he's ever been before.

Giving him a quick once over, I can't see any obvious injuries. Just some
splatters of dark purple and a very obvious dark patch spreading down his
legs.

"You injured, kid?" Not all injuries are visible.

Without looking at me he shakes his head. I'd offer to help him up, but I
doubt his legs would be able to hold him at this moment.

Taking stock of the battleground, I notice a sword sticking out of a fifth
body, lifelessly slumped next to the cave entrance. Looks like the kid did
some damage. Good for him.

Going over to the body, I put my right boot on its face, keeping it flat
against the grassy mound, allowing me to pull the sword out of its eye
socket.

Orcs are fearsome creatures. Big as an average man. Twice as strong. Five
times as ferocious. They live for battle. For murder. Though, their
bloodlust and stupidity mean you could hold your sword out and they'd
charge right onto it. However, that doesn't mean it'll stop fighting, even
with a sword sticking in its chest. Best to slice them open if you want to
really make sure they'll stay down.

Unlike goblins, orcs are active whenever they damn well please. If I'd
known orcs were involved I wouldn't have brought the kid.

"The books make goblins sound ... smaller." I turn to find the kid back on
his feet. Visually shaken, but I've seen hardened warrior's crawl into
blubbering balls of tears after a near-death experience. Maybe he's got
bigger balls than I gave him credit for.  "They are. These are orcs. A
bigger, meaner variety of green." I hand him back his sword, noting its
lack of weight.  "So, the farmer lied about it being goblins?" With a flash
of anger, he sheaths his sword.  "No. If he knew orcs were around, I doubt
he'd still be living here. If he saw orcs I doubt he'd still be living." I
lay my axe against the dirt bank opposite the cave. The lack of adrenaline
in my blood is making everything suddenly heavier. "Plus, you don't see
orcs around these parts. Usually, find them around plains with large boars
or bison for them to hunt. There isn't even a cattle farm in these parts."
I try to breathe in as much air as I can without it looking like I'm
trying.  "So, why are they here?" The kid sits down next to my axe, back
against the mound, looking even paler than usual.  "I'm not sure. Orcs
aren't ones to live in small caves. Or act as guards for goblins." Orcs
have a simple rule: he who is strongest is best. Goblins don't match up to
an orc. "Though, maybe there's a hobgoblin involved."  "A hobgoblin?"
Looking down at the kid, wanting to join him in sitting, I notice his nose
wrinkle as he looks at his wet patch. Though the smell of death was also
starting to radiate from the clearing in front of us, I also get a whiff of
piss.  "Yeah. Not as tall or strong as an orc, but smarter. Some even have
some magical abilities. They use it to charm dumber creatures, like orcs,
into serving them." However, I've never heard of them rotting crops.

In fact, as dangerous as orcs, goblins and hobgoblins are to people,
they're pretty respectful to nature. They live with the land and nature,
instead of trying to shape it to their will.

"So, you think there's a hobgoblin in there?" He points to the cave
entrance with his eyes.  "Maybe. I guess we'll find out. We best get rid of
the bodies before nightfall. Even a goblin would notice something's off if
we leave it like this." Going to the nearest body, I grab a leg and start
dragging it down the path, eventually dumping it into an overgrown field.

Getting back to the clearing, the kids trying to pull the headless orc body
by its arm. However, orcs are made of solid muscle making them pretty
heavy. I indicate for him to collect the weapons and any extra body parts
and leave the bodies to me. Without much protest, he starts collecting the
swords.

Once the bodies are hidden, I get my axe and put it in with them. A 4ft
battle-axe is great for scything down enemies in the open, but not so good
in small cramped areas like a cave. Comparing the orc swords, I pick the
sharpest looking one and leave the rest. They're not the greatest weapons,
looking more like a saw than an actual sword, but it should be fine against
a couple of goblins.

With the work done, I scope out a good place to hide. With night drawing
in, we don't have much time to create any traps or make a hiding place, so
we have to make do with a group of bushes lining the path.

The kid hasn't spoken much during the clear up. I guess he has a lot to
think about. His usual smile has faded and replaced with uncertainty and
worry. I thought about talking to him, but sometimes you just need time to
process these things. I just need to concentrate on keeping him safe.

Not long after nightfall, I notice movement at the cave entrance. Nudging
the kid, I point over to the goblin, lit up by the dim light of the
moon. Motioning for him not to make a sound, I get poised in a crouch,
ready to pounce.

As more of them come out, they sniff around the areas of blood. I was
hoping they wouldn't notice, but what can you do about blood-soaked soil?
Just have to hope it doesn't alarm them and cause them to scuttle back into
the cave.

Thankfully, after a quick sniff, they don't seem to take too much
interest. Though, there's a few that seem to be having a group
meeting. Possibly about the blood or possibly deciding where to feed
tonight. Either way; one goblin seems to have had enough of the
conversation and peels away from the rest, heading in our direction.

Poised and ready, neither of us makes a sound as I hope it comes close
enough to our hiding spot for me to just reach out and grab it. Just to
make sure, as it gets within a couple of feet from us I make a quiet
clucking sound.

I can feel the kids eyes at the back of my head, probably wondering if I've
gone crazy. But, goblins feed on bugs, small mammals and birds. If it
thinks there's a chicken nearby, it might encourage it to come closer to
the bush.

Suddenly standing up straight, the bright moonlight glints off the tip of
its sharp, long nose as it tries to sniff out its next meal.

Despite their long noses, there's no evidence they actually have better
than average smell. It's thought they've learnt this behaviour from wolves
and boars they've seen in the wild.

Coming closer, it starts to rummage in the bushes, almost close enough for
me to reach out and grab it, but not quite. When it's almost in front of
me, I reach out and grab it round its mouth, making sure it can't squeal
out, alerting the others.

Pulling it into the bush, I wrap my other arm around its body to stop its
squirming and hold it out for the kid to slit its throat. With a moment's
hesitation, the blade makes short work of the goblin's skinny neck.

Holding it till the last of its life has drained out, I carefully put it
behind us on the ground. If all goes well we can catch a few more like
that. Nice, easy pickings. However, as I look back down the path, the whole
group is coming towards us.

Goblins have paler skin compared to orcs. Theirs is a sickly green, where
an orc's is a vibrant, healthy, natural green. As they get closer it occurs
to me how naked they are. Orcs usually wear furs from their kills, some
more civilised orcs even wear armours and boots. These guys on the other
hand just seem to be letting it all hangout. Oddly, while I can see a
little penis dangling between their bowed legs, I don't see any evidence of
testicles.

I hold out my hand, signalling to the kid to let them pass. Waiting for the
last of the chattering, naked green imps to pass, before taking up the orc
sword in my right hand and leaping out of the bush.

Taking them by surprise, we slice down the first few goblins easily as they
stand still, trying to make sense of what's happening. Their instincts tell
them to flee back to the safety of their home, yet the path being blocked
by danger is obviously confusing them. This gives us another few seconds to
cut down a few more, leaving the two smartest goblins to actually start
running away. They didn't get far.

The slaughter only took about 20 seconds, but I still have to take some
time to catch my breath. Give the adrenaline time to course its way through
my body.

Looking over to the kid, I notice him in a similar condition, hands on his
hips panting. I doubt he's done too much hard exercise in his comfortable
life.

Unstrapping the torches from my back, I hand one to the still panting lad.

"Okay, stay very close to me. Do not walk off and do not make any
sounds. It's going to be cramped in there and not good for a long fight. If
we catch him off guard then this job will be finished before anyone has had
their morning piss." He simply nods his agreement.

Using a firebox, I light both torches and make my way to the cave
entrance. Crouching down to fit, I suppress a groan as the glow from my
torch fails to find a back wall. I was hoping this would be a small cave
where we'd find a hobgoblin curled up asleep. As we slowly make our way
forward, those hopes are cruelly dashed. The cave walls moving us to the
left with the floor sloping down, it's clear this cave runs under the
farm. They've probably been sucking water from the roots, causing the crops
to die and rot.

After what seemed like an age of silent, cautious shuffling along the
gloomy, damp corridor the smooth path of light from my torch is interrupted
as it finds a hole in the right wall. Stopping, I signal to the torch-lit
body behind me to be quiet, pointing out the entrance to what I hope is
where we'll find our prey.

Hugging the right-hand wall, I go even slower, trying to limit the noise
from my armour as best I can with limited success. I'm not really suited
for stealth missions, but, sometimes you just have to do your best with the
situation you're given.

Getting to the hole, I count to 3 in my head before bursting into the room,
sword drawn and ready to charge at whatever I may find.

With the tingle of adrenaline surging into my muscles, I'm left a little
deflated as I find the chamber empty. Taking a quick look around the small
hovel, it's filled with small bones and furs. Obviously where the goblins
once ate and slept. There's a slight pang of guilt as I tell myself they'll
never see this room again, but it's quickly quietened and forgotten
about. Sympathy for your enemies will get you killed.

Turning around I go to tell the kid to continue on down the corridor,
thinking maybe I'd let him have a chance to lead, get some experience,
however, all I catch in my torchlight is stone and darkness.

For the love of The Protector, I told him not to wander off!

Hurrying out to the main corridor, I look around as much as the light will
let me, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach as I find it
empty. Forcing down a wave of panic, I tell myself the kid probably just
got scared, or felt sick and retreated out of the cave. If he'd been
attacked or dragged off I'd have heard it, so I'm sure he's safe. Though,
if this hobgoblin's able to charm a group of orcs, what if he...?

No longer caring about being silent, I make off further into the cave, the
light bouncing around as I do my best run while still in a slight
crouch. My back's not going to be happy in the morning.

It doesn't take me long to come to a fork in the cave. Stopping, I stick
the torch down both paths to see if there are any hints to where the kid
could be. However, the path to the left instantly bends, and the one in
front becomes a steep slope down.

Taking deep breaths, I control my breathing and try to see if I can hear
anything. At first, the only noise is the rhythmic dripping of water from
the cave roof and the hammer of my heart, however, after a moment I hear a
voice.

Instantly, I take off to my left, taking the snaking path. As I turn a
corner, I see a light being cast from a hole in front of me. Slowing down,
I put my own torch on the ground and make my way towards the source of the
light.

Making my way to the hole, I peer into a large chamber lit by a large
collection of candles. I'm about 10-15 feet above the ground, giving me a
clear view of the room. Looking to my right, the centre of the chamber is
done up like a death shrine. Carpeted steps lead up to what I assume is a
stone coffin, delicate runes and decorations etched into the lid and
painted gold that appears to be flowing due to the flickering candlelight.

I suppress a gasp of shock as I see the kid, sitting on what appears to be
some form of a throne. Large and golden, however, it looks old, the paint
peeling off and rust appearing through the odd scratch.

He doesn't look hurt, he's just sitting on the ancient relic, back
straight, arms along the rest, legs together, feet firmly on the ground and
a vacant look on his face.

A figure in a dark, hooded robe walks through candlelight, stopping at the
foot of the steps in front of the coffin.

"Wake." With a sharp command, the young lad's eyes flutter as if waking
from a deep sleep.  "What? What's going on? Who are you? Where am I?
Where's Vicks?" Fear and panic contort his handsome face as he struggles
against invisible constraints.  "None of that matters," the voice is loud,
sinister and obviously male, "you're going to help me."  "What? No, I'm not
going to help you! Just let me go!" It's obvious the figure in blacks some
form of mage, and the kids under his spell.  "Quiet. Take off your
clothes." I match the kids' look of shock. What the fuck does this perv
want?  "Excuse you? I will no-" with a wave of his hand, the kid's face
gets the same vacant look as before as he stands up and reaches for the
right buckle to his leather armour.

In a trance, the young man lets the dark brown armour fall to the floor as
he pulls his emerald green tunic over his head.

Just as I thought; his naked torso shows some muscular definition -mostly
in the pecks- with a softer middle, probably from eating cakes and other
rich foods, hiding any abs. Not fat, just soft with the potential of being
moulded into harder muscles. Though, I don't know if that would suit him.

Bending over, he unties and removes his boots, quickly dropping his
cream-coloured trousers and white undergarments, leaving him standing naked
between the coffin and the decaying throne, the candlelight giving his body
a warm orange glow.

While his upper body is hairless, there's a good deal of brown hair around
his soft cock and the inside of his thigh.

With the click of fingers, the now naked young man is jolted out of his
trance. With a sharp squeal, he goes to try and cover his genitals, but his
body becomes rigid, his hands moving back to his sides.

"What are you going to do to me?" He sounds like he's close to crying.
"Nothing. You're going to make yourself ejaculate." Even though I can't see
his face, I can hear the smirk in his voice.  "What? Why? I can't, I
wouldn't be able to, I don't want to!" A pink mist floats out from beneath
the wizard's hood, slowly drifting towards the naked captive.

Looking down at the drop, I'm sure I can make it without injury, however,
it won't be stealthy. Trying to judge the distance to the pervy wizard, I'm
not sure if I'll be able to get to the robed figure before he's able to
stop me. Someone who can so easily take control of a human is not to be
taken lightly. If I become enthralled by him as well, we're both toast.

Begrudgingly, I stay crouched in the high hole. I need to be patient and
wait for an opening. Just have to hope he doesn't hurt the kid.

With his eyes closed and mouth shut tight, he's trying to resist, but the
moment the pink cloud makes contact with his soft, white skin, his face and
body instantly relax.

His eyes half open and his mouth becomes slack as his arms start to swing
at his side. His legs seem to almost give out beneath him, before catching
himself, swaying unsteadily.

A lopsided grin unnaturally creeps across his face as one part of his body
becomes less relaxed.

My eyes are drawn to his crotch as I notice his cock start to move. With
jerking movements, it goes from soft to raging hard in seconds. Sticking
straight up, the shaft gently curves towards his stomach as it throbs and
bobs in the candlelight.

"Now, make yourself ejaculate. You must deposit it all over the parchment
on the sarcophagus. You must get as much as you can over it." The perverted
mage stands motionless as the kids right-hand reaches up and takes hold of
his throbbing erection.

Still a little unsteady, the kid's head looks up to the ceiling as he
strokes his cock with enthusiasm, drunk under the sorcerer's power,
however, I think the pleasure in his face is real.

Despite the situation, my own cocks hard and throbbing in my own
undergarment. I feel ashamed, however, the kids' beauty has captivated me
from the moment I saw him. His lithe figure, high cheekbones, puffy lips,
deep blue eyes, slick backed hair, soft, pale skin. Like most things, I
tried to push it down and forget about it, however, something about the
young man has captured me in a way no one has in a long time.

Now, watching his testicles dance as he strokes his cock in magic-induced
ecstasy, I can't deny my attraction to him.

I bite my bottom lip as I fight the urge to play with my own cock. I know I
should be watching the dark-robed figure, trying to find the opening to
launch my own attack, however, I can't tear my eyes off the beautiful young
man as his wobbly legs start to shake, small groans and moans tumbling out
of his open mouth.

He takes two uncertain steps forward, his whole body joining his legs in
shaking. A loud cry rips through the cave as he points his cock down. The
first shot of his semen fires out of his cock, landing in the middle of the
greying, yellow paper.

He gives out another cry as several more strong shots join the first on the
parchment, not missing with a single drop. With the last of his sperm
spent, his eyes roll to the back of his head as he staggers back,
thankfully landing back down on the beaten throne, his head lolling from
side to side.

The show now over, my mind returns to the room, noticing an eerie purple
light coming from the robed figure as he chants in some weird, dead tongue,
the ancient power of his words crashing against me. Even to someone with no
magical ability, the dark nature of this spell is obvious. An ominous and
dirty wind blows throughout the cave, causing the candles to flicker, some
going out, some turning purple. The smell of old death oozes from the
walls.

Without any more thought, I leap down from the ledge, my armour and weight
making a metal thud as I land. I feel the force through my knees, but
ignore the pain as I run towards the altar, sword drawn, ready to kill this
fucked up pervert.

I stop dead in my tracks as the hood turns towards me, its black shadow
hiding all but glowing purple eyes. In that instant, I knew I had a choice
to make; save the kid or kill the wizard. Despite the concentration and
power that must be needed to keep the spell going, something in those eyes
is telling me he'd still be able to take me down, even if I manage a
killing blow.

Dropping the sword, I leap up onto the stage. I take a quick glance at the
now glowing symbol on the sperm covered parchment. Ignoring it, I scoop the
kid up into my arms, putting him over my right shoulder as I bend down and
pick up his sword and a bundle of his clothes.

Jumping down, I avoid looking at the dark sorcerer as I run past, heading
towards a doorway in the wall opposite the altar.

My right gauntlet scrapes along the ceiling as I try to crouch run through
the cave. Trying to get out as fast as I can without hurting the limp,
mumbling body on my shoulder.

The damp walls, roof and puddles pulse with an eerie glow, that may
indicate the very laws of nature are being ripped apart, but they also
light my way through the cave.

Spotting the exit, I manage to find extra strength in my legs, getting as
close to a sprint as the space allows me. Breaching the cave, I run into
the moonlight, taking a large gulp of the fresh, night air. Escaping the
stench of rot and decay, I don't stop running.

Taking the path back up towards the farm, I don't know where I'm going, I
only know I have to get the kid as far away from the cave as I possibly
can!

Ignoring the pain in my legs, I find a new speed as I run past the farm and
into a dense wood. The only thought in my mind to protect the kid.

Dodging through trees, my lungs give out a sudden heave as I have to stop.

Propping the kid down against a tree, I walk in small circles, gulping in
air, trying to catch my breath as my entire body screams at me.

Still panting, I kneel down in front of the young man's limp body. His eyes
are slightly open but not focusing on anything and his bodies still
limp. His breathing is shallow but indicates he's still alive. Is this a
side effect of the pink mist? Is he going to be this way forever?

"Hey, kid? You okay?" I shake his shoulders gently, but all it does is
cause his head to list from side to side. "Hey ... uh ..." What's his name?
I know he told me, but I didn't think we'd be together long. Definitely not
long enough to know his name.

Giles? Jim? Jackal? Jack? Jackal? Jewel? Jules? That's it! Julian!

"Hey, Julian, look at me. Try and open your eyes for me, come on!" Still
nothing.

In a panic, I look around my surroundings for ... something. Anything!

Through a clump of trees, I see a silver shimmer; the moonlight bouncing
off a lake.

Instantly, I strip off my armour. Chucking off the chainmail and black
undergarments till I'm as naked as Julian.

Taking him in my arms, I half jog to the lake.

I ignore the cold-shooting through me as my feet hit the water. Slowing
down from the drag of the lake, I get in till it's up to my waist.

Taking one look at his lifeless face, I move my arms below the water,
causing Julian to suddenly drop and be fully submerged.

After a painfully long second, the lake around me erupts in a fountain of
limbs and water as the kids' arms shoot out, grabbing me around the neck,
drawing his now wet body against mine, pulling us close as his legs wrap
around my waist.

Clutching him around the shoulder, and supporting his butt under the water
I hold him close to me as all the fear, panic and tension flow out into the
silver lake.

As he gasps for air, I stroke his wet, greasy hair, soothing him, letting
him know he's safe now.

"Shhhhh, it's okay, Julian, I've got you. Everything's going to be
alright." The dark spectre of the sorcerer hangs over him, and I'll have to
deal with that at some point, but for now, we can breathe easy and just
enjoy the fact we made it out alive.  "Thanks for coming for me Vicks." His
voice is quiet and weak.  "You're welcome, kid. But the next time I tell
you to stay close, you do not leave my side, got it?." Julian lifts his
head from my shoulder and looks me in the eyes with a large smile on his
face.  "Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure to stay very close from now on."
Julian's grin gets wider, showing off his pristine, white teeth. The kid
has a killer smile.

The danger forgotten, I become very aware of how his butt cheek feels in my
hand. It's taking all my willpower to keep it flat and not take a squeeze
of the soft flesh. Unfortunately, this means I'm not able to keep my cock
from rising back up. Thankfully, my arm is blocking it from hitting
Julian's ass. Though, the thought makes it throb and jerk.

"Hey, Vicks?" His lips relax into an easy, comfortable smile.  "Yeah,
Julian?" My own smile takes a little more work. Hopefully, it doesn't look
too strained.  "Can we get out now? It's really cold." My mind pulled from
his ass, I notice the younger man shivering against me.  "Of course."
Turning around, I take us back through the water to dry land, carrying him
back to the tree with our clothes.

Moving my arm to let him down, my hard cock bounces against his ass,
getting trapped between his legs before flicking up under his balls,
hitting his own cock, rubbing up against his stomach once his feet have
fully planted onto the grass.

For a moment I worry about what he'll say about me getting hard while
carrying him, however, those thoughts were quickly forgotten once he
reached across and starts feeling my muscular pecs. Playing with the short,
dark hair covering them, his palm causes a twinge of pleasure as they pass
over my nipples. His hands follow my hair, down between my uneven abs,
while not as cut as they once were in my youth, they still noticeably
bulge.

I keep still, allowing him to explore my body at his leisure. Being from a
rich, posh family he's probably had a pretty sheltered life. Never spent
time with other guys naked. My body's just a fascination to him, what with
it being so different from his own. A curiosity to him, and while it's
giving me a sexual thrill, I can just relive the memory on my own later.

Those plans change the moment he takes my painfully hard cock in his right
hand.

Starting a slow jerking motion, the heat from my cock quickly warms up his
cold hand. Causing a wave of pleasure and relief to wash over me. My cock's
been demanding some attention since I saw Julian, naked, in the cave.

As he pumps my cock faster, all my inhibitions and reservations melt away
into my lust and desire.

Taking his cock in my own hand, I'm shocked to find he has no skin over his
head. Looking down, I can just see a dark line across his cock, about a
quarter of the way down. I've known of cultures and races that remove the
skin, but they're pretty rare.

Holding the shaft under the head, I stroke the full length of his long
cock. Being so far away in the cave, I wasn't able to get a good look at
Julian's pride and joy, so I didn't realise how big he is. Longer than mine
and just as thick. I ain't exactly slacking in the privates department
either, never had any complaints anyways. The guy's pretty blessed.

Working the silky soft skin over his shaft as quickly as I can, the lack of
foreskin makes it much different from playing with my own and a little
trickier. I feel I should be jealous or angry at this shorter, scrawnier,
posh kid being better endowed than me. However, it just makes me hornier,
wanting to play with it more. Never wanting to let him go.

Julians' own hand has been getting quicker on my own cock, mostly using my
foreskin to stroke the head, causing a wet sloshing sound as my dick pumps
out its clear liquid. With everything I've been through today; meeting
Julian, seeing him stroke himself to orgasm, carrying him naked, holding
his naked body close to me, and now having him playing with my cock while I
play with his - touching him, getting to openly ogle his hot, naked body-
it doesn't take my testicles long to press up against my body.

With an animalistic grunt, I trust my cock into Julians' hand as my first
shot powerfully hits him in the stomach. My second and third hit his right
thigh.

Constantly grunting and thrusting now, my fourth shot goes high, hitting
him between his pecs as the fifth and sixth shots join the first.

Panting heavily, a single drop oozes out, over Julians' still slowly
stroking fingers.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I go back to pleasuring Julian.

Reaching across I take a wad of my cum dripping down his leg in my left
hand, I replace the slow wanking hand of my right with my now slick left
hand.

Using my cum as lube, I'm able to get a much better stroke going. My
slippery substance allows me to go from the base of his shaft all the way
to the tip, finally letting me play with his cock head.

As my hand passes over the tip, Julian's entire body shakes. Clutching at
my arms, he steadies himself as I make my strokes that little shorter,
making sure I get back to the head quicker.

Leaning his head against my muscular pecs, I can him panting, groaning and
moaning as I go faster, my strokes getting shorter and shorter until I'm
only masturbating the top couple inches of his magnificent erection.

"Oh, I'm, I'm, oh, oh, oh," I feel his body shaking against me as I feel
several wet splashing landing against my stomach, crotch, legs and
hands. His head in the way all I can see is his heaving back.

Julian straightens slightly, putting his arms around me as he embraces me,
panting to get his breath back.

Reluctantly, I let go of his softening penis and put my arms around him,
giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, not knowing exactly what to do
now. Not knowing what all this means. Probably just residual energy from
the pink mist, causing his libido to peek and just needed release and
someone to hold onto.

After a while, I feel the young lads heaves turn to shivers once again. The
orgasmic glow leaving him to be assaulted by the chilly spring air.

"How about we get dressed and get back to the inn?" I pull him away and
look into his eyes. He smiles back. No hint of regret or worry. Just a
dopey, sleepy smile.

"Good idea, Vicks." Leaving each other's warmth, we start to get dressed.

While armour might be useful for keeping you alive, it doesn't make for
quick and easy dressing. A collection of straps and buckles that need to be
connected in a particular sequence, else it'll all become a tangled mess.

"Um, Vicks." While trying to make sure I'm putting the correct leg plate
on, I glance over at Julian and almost fall over.

Standing in his tunic and leather armour, the bottom half is completely
naked.

"Oh, sorry, it was a pretty quick grab and run. Seems I didn't get
everything." I can't help but laugh a little.

"And I appreciate the effort, I truly do, but how am I going to walk back
looking like this?" He tries to look serious even as he lets out a slight
giggle.

I can't help it and fall over in a fit of laughter. The thought of his
white buns wiggling into a crowded bar, pints being spat out in shock and
surprise is too much for me.

"Okay, it's not funny! This is a real problem!" Julian's own laughter says
it is actually funny.

"It'll be fine. By this time the bar will be closed and all the flies will
have gone to bed. I doubt anyone will see. Well, maybe Mourtum, but I can
guarantee you he's seen weirder." After I manage to catch my breath and
calm my laughter I try to reassure the lad as he awkwardly tries to pull
his tunic down far enough to cover as much as he can.

Getting the rest of my armour on, I lead the way through the tree and back
to the farm. I make sure to keep us both out of sight of the cave. I can no
longer feel any dark energies, but I've no intention of ever bringing
Julian back to that place.

Reaching the inn, the place is thankfully dead. Didn't stop Julian hiding
behind me as we ascended the stairs and got to my room.

"Okay, you can take the bed. Don't worry, I've made sure it's free of any
bugs." While I might not be adept at magic, I've picked up a few basic
spells and rituals over my time as an adventurer. One of the most important
is the one for clearing an area of any unwanted pests.

"You sure?" Julian looks at me with tired eyes.

"Course. I've slept on much less comfortable floors than this one." I gave
him a reassuring smile.

Without further argument, the young lad strips off his leather armour and
gets under the covers in just his emerald green tunic.

His breathing shallows in a matter of moments, the poor guy must have been
exhausted. Hell, I'm exhausted. However, my job is not over yet.

If you've enjoyed feel free to drop me a message at:
bootusrim@gmail.com. Also check out my other stories:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/the-morality-of-cheating
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/i-aint-gay/