The Sultry Sorceress Ch. 06

Paris Lelaire was doing what he always did in the morning after his breakfast of oatmeal and hardboiled eggs: shoveling horseshit. Big, steaming, fly-infested, green piles of horseshit. Even worse, this being the week of the Festival of Aurora, and his mother owning the only stable in the village, he had a lot more horseshit to shovel than usual. Lightwatch was a small village perched high up in the Gorgonsgaze Mountains which bordered the kingdoms of Hedonia and Licentia, but its population more than tripled during the Festival of Aurora, when hundreds of travelers and pilgrims from either kingdom swarmed into the high mountains to watch the Lights, a fantastic display of spiraling spectral lights which filled the sky for only a few nights every year. For some who worshipped Aurora as a serious and severe goddess, this was a time of quiet reflection, for others who worshipped her as a goddess of love and sexual delight, it was a time for wild orgies and drunkenness. For Paris, it meant shoveling three times the amount of shit he normally did.

Frustratingly, his mother was the sort who worshipped Aurora on her back, with her legs spread wide open, as evident by the sensual moaning echoing from the house and the sound of her headboard slamming repeatedly against the wall. This last week his mother's bedroom had been as filled with studs as her stables. She wasn't alone either. The Festival of Aurora brought a lot of fresh pussy and horny young men to town, some being the gorgeous blonde-haired, blue-eyed sort from Hedonia, the others being olive-skinned and dark-eyes beauties from Licentia, and here and there was a traveler from even further away, like the silver-haired people of the Far North, or the almond-eyed people of the Far East. Even people other than human came to worship Aurora, some being satyrs and centaurs with cocks as large as their respective animals, and sensual nymphs who would generously allow a special mortal to fuck them for a single night.

Being a boy of freshly 18 years, Paris was now the traditional age when he could begin attending such events, but whereas his peers were already hunting their first nymph or oiling up for their first orgy, Paris was still busy shoveling shit.

"Hey, Paris, do mommy a favor and get Hector's horse ready for him."

Paris turned to see his mother leaning against a wooden beam at the entrance to the stables. She had a very, very satisfied smile on her face, the kind a woman had after getting her brains thoroughly fucked out by a younger man. Her long blonde hair was tussled and clumpy, and her sky-blue eyes were half-lidded with exhausted lust. She hadn't even bothered to fasten her blouse completely up, and her massive breasts hung out like plump bags of milk, sagging slightly but still round and inviting. She was skirtless, and the long shirt only did so much to cover her large, juicy buttocks. One of her fat nipples had a bite mark on it and the way the light shone on the clumpy residue on her chin gave evidence that Jessalee Lelaire let her lovers finish wherever they wanted to. She reeked of sex.

"Why does Hector need his horse now? The bullfight isn't for . . . oh-"

Paris's heart sunk when the strapping, muscular, and glistening tanned body of a handsome 19 year old followed his mother into the stables. He was completely naked except for a glossy sheen of sweat and oil that highlighted the perfect sculpture of his sexual form, and the tremendous trunk of his manhood, although soft, was so thick and long that it could have competed with a satyr's.

"There you are, my beautiful cocksucker," Hector said as one of his strong, olive-skinned hands came around Jessalee's body and squeezed the pliable flesh of her tit, provoking a small trickle of milk to spew forth from her nipple.

"Mmmm," Jessalee moaned happily, grinding her substantial ass against the boy's shredded abs and a thick shaft. "Hector still needs to prepare for the bullfight. Tradition says he should pray at all eight shrines of Aurora before entering the coliseum, and he really should have left hours ago, but I . . . (snicker) . . . I kept him occupied."

"No regrets Miss Lelaire, no regrets," Hector said, the hot flavor of his Licentian accent slipping through. "I believe the only shrine of Aurora a Festival Champion should worship at is this one," he said, slapping his hand up between Jessalee's legs, his strong fingers probing the soft folds of her vulva. She gasped as her legs shook, and she nearly fell to the floor, but Hector kept a strong hold of her and held her up. Only 19 and he could easily lift a buxom bimbo like Paris's mother over his shoulder like she was some skinny little waif.

Paris handed the reins of Hector's stunning black steed, Fury, to the older boy, shyly avoiding eye-contact as the stud groped his mother. Paris had to hold on tight. Hector's horse was much like he was: strong and beautiful, and also incredible horny. The horse had never been gelded, and it wasn't unusual to hear of Hector fucking some young woman in the field while his stud did the same to her mare. The heat alone from Fury's low hanging shaft was enough to melt butter.

"Thanks, my friend," Hector said, taking the reins of Fury and mounting his massive steed. He leaned down to give Jessalee one final kiss and then road off, his rock-hard buttocks bouncing slightly against the hard leather saddle.

Jessalee watched him go and sighed, already lonely and horny for more. Paris sighed too, but out of despair. He and Hector had been the best of friends when they were young, but over the course of last year's Festival Hector had grown several inches (and not just in terms of height) and his wild Licentian passions had been awakened, much to the dismay of every husband and father in Lightwatch. It was no surprise with the Priestesses of Aurara named Hector this year's Champion. He had proved his virility and fire by bedding every single one of them in a single night.

"This place smells like horseshit," Paris's mother said. "Get back to shoveling."

#####

Paris was so busy moving a cart of horse-manure that he didn't see what every other passing man and boy saw strutting into town, not until they were right behind him.

"You, little boy. Are you the farmhand? We need some place to stable our horses and yours seems to be the only one in this disgusting little town."

Paris turned at the sound of the feminine but nasally voice and lost his breath at what he saw. Two perfect white horses being ridden by two of the most beautiful and scantily clad Hedonian women he had ever seen. The first, the one who spoke, was toned and busty, with a surprisingly curvy yet athletic body, and her large round breasts were hardly contained by a small metal bikini that was studded with glowing sapphires over where her nipples were barely hidden. Her face was cherubic and flawless, but her puffy pink lips pouted in an arrogant sneer, and she had a large mane of golden curls held back by a sapphire tiara. There was something unbearably obnoxious and childish about her, but that didn't stop Paris's little penis from instantly snapping up to a full three inches.

"Don't say that, Chancy," the second rider said. "This is a lovely little town, and we are honored to be attending the Festival of Aurora."

This second rider was as beautiful as the first, but in a more genuine way compared to the curly-haired bimbo. Her blonde hair flowed down her naked back like a golden waterfall, and her large blue eyes sparkled both with a young girl's naiveté and strong sense of virtue. She was as undressed as her companion, wearing little more than a metal thong and a negligible breastplate that held her firm, if smaller, bosom thrust up.

Both of the sexy young women were carrying swords at their sides, and although it took Paris a moment to realize it there was no mistaking that their skimpy little thong-bikinis were actually suits of armor.

"You're . . . you're paladins!" Paris exclaimed.

"Gee, I wonder what gave it away," Chancy said in an obnoxious, childish tone. She dismounted from her horse and Paris almost got a nosebleed from the arousing sight of her round ass thrust out in her microscopic thong, and from the way her breasts jiggled slightly as she hit the ground. "Tell me what you know about paladins, retard."

Paris stammered. "I . . . uh . . . I know that you are the personal guard of Queen Nymphoria, and the greatest warriors in Hedonia."

"No," Chancy said, leaning in a little so her massive cleavage surrounded the little boy's field of vision. "We are the greatest warriors in the WORLD! Now listen up, shit-shoveler. My cousin Nicolette and I didn't come to your little backwater to enjoy some bumpkin sex-festival and shove wooden sticks up our asses, or whatever it is you do. We came here tracking a fugitive. A woman. If you see this woman, you let us know."

Paris could feel his heart beating like a drum. Her breasts were right in front of her face. He could smell her, and she smelt amazing, like cherries and sex. "But . . . but how will I know what woman it is you're talking about."

Chancy sneered. "Trust me dumbass. When you see THIS woman, you'll just know."

Nicolette grabbed Paris's shoulder and turned him around, leaning in so close her small breasts nearly pressed against his face. She had the look of a concerned older sister rather than a total bitch like her cousin Chancy. "This woman usually travels in a carriage, and with the company of a young blonde girl about your height, and a lanky black cat with red eyes. Only, sometimes instead of the cat she'll be with a slender girl with black hair who rarely wears any clothes. You must stay alert for them. This woman is extremely dangerous. If you see her, you must warn us immediately. Please, the fate of your town may depend on it."

Nicolette smiled softly, and then even gave Paris a small kiss on his cheek. It was barely a small graze, but that tiny contact between her soft flesh and his sent paralyzing shivers through his petite body. Suddenly he felt the urge to pee very badly.

"And watch our horses in the meantime," Chancy said, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him back around. Her tits actually did slap him in the face this time. "And I swear, if anything happens to my beloved Buttercup, anything at all, I will castrate you. Got it!"

"Y-y-yes ma'am," Paris said, knees shaking.

Chancy smiled. "Good. And just so you know I'm serious-"

The busty paladin's armored fingers dug into the weak flesh of his shoulders, holding him in place. Her breasts pressed against his face as she lifted her long, curvy leg back into the air, and then swung it with full force forward, her armored knee flying up into his balls like a silver meteor.

THUD!!!

Paris left the ground and hovered in the air for a single, endless moment, and then fell face first into a small pile of horseshit, clutching his balls, too pained to even tell if they were still there. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out, and as her writhed silently in the mud he watched the two perfect asses of the paladins swaying away, Chancy giggling her head off.

"That wasn't very nice," Nicolette said, hugging her flimsy cloak around her nearly naked body, trying to cover up her nudity but failing.

Chancy snorted. "Who cares? I barely even felt anything there. It was like kicking a couple of little blueberries and an acorn. Now let's go find a decent inn to stay at."

#####

Paris stood naked in his bathroom, scrubbing the last of the horseshit from his hair and taking the time to scrub all the sweat and grime from his little body as well. He looked at his body in the mirror and was disappointed with what looked back: a little boy with a little dick. Despite being just a year younger than Hector, Paris was barely five feet high and his soft, nubile body should have belonged to a much younger man. His abdomen was flat and firm, but there wasn't a single line of muscle definition on him even after years working in the stables. He had a cute face, but it was the kind of cute that got him mistaken for a girl more than once.

He sat on the edge of his washtub and spread his legs, looking down at his hard three inches of cock. There wasn't a lot there. One girl he had showed it to had called it a 'chode.'

He wondered if Penelope would call it a chode.

Penelope was Paris's other oldest, dearest friend. A cute, sweet girl of mixed Hedonian and Licentian heritage, she was born into the Temple of Aurora and as such was destined to become a priestess of that holy order. Because of her studies Paris hadn't seen much of her in the last year, and when he did it was only at religious gatherings and festivals, and she was always stuck in a flock of her holy sisters. Once upon a time the three of them had been inseparable: Paris, Penelope, and Hector, but as they got older their separate passions drove them apart. Penelope blossomed into a beautiful young woman with a busty chest and soft, swaying hips. Hector erupted into a pinnacle of manhood, and his puberty tore through Lightwatch like a hurricane. Paris . . . he just stayed the same. Paris began to fall madly in love with Penelope, but priestesses only coupled with Champions, not shit-shovelers. Luckily, Paris was sure that Penelope was the one prize in Lightwatch Hector hadn't claimed, thanks in large part to an incident in which Penelope came home from the Temple early, and discovered her mother getting her anus stretched out by the furious cock of Hector. Penelope flew into a rage after that, and promised to never speak to Hector again, and Paris knew it was because she had been starting to fall in love with the sexy Licentian stud.

As Paris began to think about Penelope, his hand found its way to his erect little acorn, and he began to stroke it with two fingers. He was moments away from climaxing when his mother walked in.

Jessalee took in the sight of her tiny son flogging his tiny prick and snickered. "Want me to get you a pair of tweezers so you can finish?"

"MOM!" Paris yelled, throwing a wet towel at her. "Get out of here!"

"Alright," she shrugged. "I just wanted to tell you that your little friend Penelope is waiting for you outside. She says she wants to go to the bullfight with you."

"P-p-Penelope?" Paris stammered, hands still on his tiny boy-bump. Maybe it was the shock of his mother walking in, or the sight and smell of the paladins in his mind, but Paris suddenly came, and his little penis pumped a few think strands of semen across the floor, one landing across his mother's foot. He was left blushing and panting like he had just run a marathon. "I'll . . . I'll be right down."

#####

Penelope was standing by the gate, looking like the very incarnation of Aurora herself. The last time Paris had really been alone with her Penelope had been a dirty little tomboy. She had always kept her nutmeg brown hair short, like a boy's, and her slender body with her cinnamon color skin had always been covered with little scrapes and bruises. Penelope had been mistaken for being a boy about as often as Paris had been mistaken for being a girl, but the beautiful maiden standing before him was unquestionably female. Her nutmeg hair had grown out, and she now wore it in two thick braids that hung down her shoulders. Her skinny body had filled out with strong feminine curves, although her bare stomach still showed the slight definition of her abdominals, and her calves were quite pronounced. Her cinnamon colored skin glistened softly, coated with oil and pampered regularly in the warm bathes of the Temple. She wore the robes of an acolyte of Aurora, which weren't much in the way of robes at all. A single span of transparent white cloth covered her firm, perky breasts, and another covered her waist, but it did not cover enough to hide the deep cleavage of her muscular ass which peaked out at both top and bottom. Her navel had been pieced with a golden ring, as had both of her nipples, judging by the bumps along the outline of her tits. Other than that she wore some gold chains and a pair of high-heeled sandals to make her seem a little taller, not that she wasn't already six inches taller than Paris.

"Penelope, w-what are you doing here?" Paris asked, fidgeting uncomfortably as he had trouble suppressing his erection . . . not that 3 inches left much of an impression.

"I've missed you too, loser," she laughed, jokingly. Her voice hadn't changed at all. It was still the same boyish voice from before, sweet but with a little rasp to it. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug that caused her firm breasts to slip and smash against his chin. "It's been too long. I hate the way we've all fallen apart, with me at the Temple, Hector always training to become a Champion, and you with your mother's stables."

Paris blushed at the reminder of his humble life, but he didn't pull away. This hug was the closest he had even come to having sex other than spying on Hector with any number of girls.

"Well, we should try to see more of each other. You and me," Paris suggested, careful to leave Hector out of it.

"Exactly! And we're going to start tonight! Now that I've earned my third piercing from the Temple I'm no longer an acolyte, but a fully fledged priestess. I'll be much freer than I was before, and I suspect Hector will be too after the Festival is over, seeing as how there hasn't been a Minotaur or a gorgon sighting in so many years."

Paris grumbled sourly, suddenly hoping a very mean gorgon would slither into town and turn Hector to stone.

"I figured we can start with the bullfight at the coliseum," Penelope said, bouncing a little with excitement. "We'll cheer on Hector and try to see him after the show. You know, if he isn't busy with . . . you know." Penelope bit her lower lip and blushed.

(Busy fucking his way through a dozen girls in the Champion's chamber), Paris thought, which was exactly what he'd probably be doing.

Paris's mother picked that moment to interrupt, and she sauntered over even though her body still stank of Hector's cum, and she still hadn't completely bothered to button her blouse up. At least she was wearing a skirt.

"My, my. Penelope, you've grown into such a fine young woman. I bet the boys are crawling over one another to get a shot at you." As Jessaleee gave her lewd compliment her hand came to a rest on the athletic priestess's back, and it slowly glided downward until the ravenous cougar's paw cupped her firm buttocks tightly. She squeezed a little, her nails punching in, and Penelope responded with a little wiggle and stifled moan.

"Thank you Miss Lelaire." Penelope said, suddenly breathing very heavily. "And you are a . . . enticing as ever."

Jessalee chuckled deeply as her fat lips twisted into a naughty smile. "So sweet. Give me a kiss, dear."

There was nothing unusual about two women kissing in the village of Lightwatch. It was actually a common form of greeting in both Hedonia and Licentia, but such a greeting was usually just a small peck on the lips. As Penelope stood on her tippy-toes to kiss the leaning older woman, Jessalee pushed upward with the hand cupping her buttocks, forcing the little priestess into a much deeper, much more intimate kiss than what was normally expected. Penelope's brown eyes went wide with a moment of shock, and she pranced on her feet as if she needed to suddenly pee, but slowly she melted back into a relaxed state, her eyes rolling upward in bliss. Both their jaws started to move, and Paris could even hear the sound of their tongues slapping against each other. Paris could see his mother's fingers moving, and he realized that she was tapping against Penelope's rectum, tickling her in that naughty place to enhance the swooning effect of the kiss.