Pratt, the Adventurer

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You know my name, and you’ve heard my legend many many times. I won’t apologize for my fame or the long shadow I’ve cast over lesser adventurers. Why should I?

I am Pratt.

You’ve heard of my recent rescue of the Lady of Lilacs from the clutches of a sorcerer? Well, the storytellers have completely ruined it in the telling. It began on the coast of Saphris…Are you writing this down? I certainly hope so, there’s nothing so insufferable as having to repeat myself.

So as I was saying, it began on the coast of Saphris. A beautiful day by any account. The sun was high in the clear sky and the sapphire waters of the coast remind one of an equally blue lake from one’s youth, perhaps in the north where I was raised. I was having a cold yammis fruit breakfast with bread.

Later that afternoon…

Did you say something? You did, didn’t you? Completely inconceivable…

There’s nothing quite as disgusting as someone who can’t listen to a fine story without flapping their tongue. Well, what did you want? Speak up. Oh, you’re wondering why I skipped from my breakfast to the events of that afternoon? Well, I told you what I had for breakfast and how the water of Saphris looked, what else did you want to hear? How I masturbated that morning?

Don’t cringe away now! You’ve already interrupted me, I might as well give you a juicy bit to go with it, no? I’m sure the readers of your unfortunate little scribbles will love to hear about my virility.

Well, that morning I took myself quite happily in hand. As you know, Saphris is full of licentious young people. I was watching out of the window of my room at the inn, which overlooks the beach, and there was a group of young men playing a game with a hide-skin ball. They were shirtless, of course, their dark skin sprinkled with jewels of sweat. I was inspired by their reckless, bullish youth. As a servant of beauty, I could not allow the moment to pass unremarked upon.

I allowed myself feverish congress with my organ. I brought myself off in a great heat complimented by the sun and the beauty of the land. I recall one of the young man kicking the ball hard on the beach and unleashing a cry of victory that resounded precisely at the moment that I announced my own arrival. Kindred spirits, perhaps?

Anyway, as I was saying. Later that afternoon I was approached by the mayor of Saphris. A squirrel faced little fuck with body odor and a limp wrist. He practically begged me to rescue their Lady of Lilacs. Anyone who knows my exploits—which is most everyone, I assure you—knows that I despise begging. I think its one of the most demeaning things a man or woman can do. I accepted only out of the significant charity of my heart.

But as I faced a sorcerer, I couldn’t go without some arcane support. I went to the Guild of Rath-Ni-Ko. A surlier group of Twisters I’ve never seen, but usually good. Most of their senior brothers were out on other tasks so they gave me one called Ox. He was more of a calf, all things considered. Thick-necked, but not so physically imposing that you felt safer with him behind you. Either way, I didn’t need his sword arm.

We traveled for three weeks before we arrived at the den of the sorcerer. If you expect me to have been chaste in that time, then you obvious don’t know much about me. I fucked Ox more times than I can count. The service usually isn’t provided by the Rath-Ni-Ko, but the brothers love flaunting the rules, and what higher rule is there than chastity among sorcerers?

If there was one instance where Ox’s name was apt, it was in his tolerance for pain. On one of our first nights together I put him over my knee and tanned his ass with slaps until he cried out, or at least I would have if he ever did cry out. He was sober-eyed throughout even if he had to bite his lips to stay that way. I tickled him too, running my fingers up his ribs until he turned red with the strain of keeping the laughter in. He didn’t break, though his cock hardened to near bursting. I made him suck me off and swallow every drop. I fucked his hole as he panted like a dog. I put a yoke around his neck like a true ox and rode atop him while fingering his ass.

He kept me well entertained on those boring days on the road.

What’s that? The story is too lewd for your readership? Well, they’re not going to enjoy the ending then.

When we caught up to the Lady of Lilacs and the sorcerer—Grezic—keeping her imprisoned, it turns out that he had already sold her off to some slavers in the far west. He was proud of that fact and gave us the information free before vowing to destroy us with his dark tricks. Well, he tried to bind us up in spells to stoke our lusts and make us mad with it. A perverse sort of man.

Ox twisted up his spell and sent it back to him. Grezic went crazy with lust. Ox and I figured since he’d sold off our reward, and that we’d now have to travel even further to find the Lady, that we might as well have some fun.

Grezic was willing, trust me, almost too willing. He wailed when Ox and I left him, covered in and brimming with our seed. Ox particularly had a good time plowing his firm ass. Not as gifted in size as I am, of course, but the boy’s stamina…Stars…

Anyway Grezic wanted more, more, more, but we had a goddess to find. Nothing is as pitiable as man who can’t get enough.

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