Warden
How could I have been so stupid as to miss the lack of magic at Lady Ryle’s tavern? The one scent singularly absent from the place, but I was too concentrated on her to process it.
Not a single one of the other witches and warlocks present had an ounce of magic. The only thing which seemed to have any presence was the sword she still carries, and yet it has no smell.
Unless it is entirely covered by my lady’s perfume which has become even greater after our show of affection, a mouth grooming which seemed so natural save for I’ve never done it before.
If her sword has any magic, I’m not sure I could feel it.
Not sure I could feel anything. You could stab me in the heart and I wouldn’t feel it.
I wouldn’t die either but then that’s another matter entirely.
Also, I can’t take my eyes off my lady. She is radiant in this strange place. Her skin flushed, her stunning eyes dewy. The dress she wears sheens with an iridescent hue. And she’s armed.
I’m not sure I could have found a better mate.
“Come,” I beckon to her and we start walking.
“How do you know where to go?” she asks, hitching up her skirts and tucking some parts of them in her waistband so she can better navigate the boggy and uneven terrain.
It means I get a glimpse of pink flesh every now and then which sends a spike of heat directly to my crotch.
“I don’t.”
“And you’re intending wandering round and round forever, are you?”
“I am looking for the lines.” I say, tossing my horns. “The Ley Lines. They will guide us.”
My lady skips lithely over a particularly soggy looking area. “I know about Ley Lines. I think.” Her brow furrows. “What are Ley Lines?”
“I can feel them.” I put my hand to my chest. “It is the way of the Brag.”
“Interesting. I would have called it heartburn,” she says, dodging around a puddle as we walk under a slab of overhanging rock. “But then this is…the Underhill. So, you lead the way, Warden.”
Her tone puzzles me. On the one hand, her words are positive, but I don’t feel any positivity coming from her. As I need to concentrate on the lines, I push the strangeness to the back of my mind and reach out.
There is one, but it is a long way away, its presence a mere whisper on the wind.
“We have a way to go, my lady.” I stamp my foot as I shift to my Brag form. “I would suggest it would be easier if you ride me.”
“Oh, I bet you would.” She stares at me and puts her hands on her hips. “Do you think I’m that sort of girl?”
With two strides, I have her up against the rock face, my hands planted either side of her head as I gaze down on her pretty form.
“You are no girl of any sort,” I hear myself rasp.
“Oh? Really.” She bunches up her lips and glares at me, pinned and unable to go anywhere. “I think you’ll find I’m the sort of girl who’ll do unpleasant things to your private parts in your sleep.”
My rear legs do a dance at the thought of her doing anything in the vicinity of my todger. The appendage itself pulses with a desire to grow I haven’t felt in a long time.
“Which makes you a formidable warrior,” I respond. “And I wouldn’t ask just anyone to ride me.”
For a second, she keeps up the glare, then her face softens slightly.
“And I won’t ride just anyone,” she says quietly. “But I need to get back to my tavern.”
“And I have prisoners to deal with.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Her mouth quirks in a smile and my todger swells.
I take a step back and offer her my arm.
“My lady.” I bow as she takes it and I swing her onto my back.
“Where do I hold on?” she asks, squirming around and grinding herself against my hide. “You’re slippery.”
I do my best to hold back a groan, reaching behind me to grab her hands and pull them around my abdomen.
“Hold on here,” I rasp through gritted teeth. My todger is all the way out now and aching terribly.
The damned thing always has a mind of its own, and now it is going to be incredibly uncomfortable when I move.
Lady Ryle’s hands clutch my abdomen, and my todger emits a glob of spend. I hear it hit the ground.
“Time to go, my lady,” I say. “Keep a tight hold.”
Unable to help myself, I rear, and then everything explodes, my hooves eating up the distance between where we fell through the portal towards the lines which should be able to lead us out of the Underhill.
On my back, my lady remains steady, her body pressed against my torso, her legs gripping me tightly.
For the first hour, my todger remains as it began, swinging freely between my legs.
I do not understand its reaction to the female riding me.
The appendage has never been this unruly, and why would it? I have been around females many times.
Obviously I cannot take a mate while I am immortal, but this does not explain the behaviour of my todger. It bends to my will and not the other way around.
My thoughts are interrupted by a cry from my lady.
“Stop, Warden! Stop!”
My hooves skid on the soft ground as I instantly do what she says.
“Look, over there.” Her arm comes past my torso, one finger pointing off to the right. “We have to help.”
I follow where she is gesturing and see, mired in mud, something flailing, tiny and pale in colour. It is stuck fast and will no doubt die here.
“Please, Warden. We can’t leave it.” My lady slides from my back as the thing makes a long, low moaning sound.
“This is the Underhill.” I grab at her arm. “It will be a trick.”
“I don’t care. What am I if I don’t even try to help?” She shakes me off. “And what are you?” She gives me a baleful look before turning back in the direction of the creature and picking her way towards it.
I shift back into my human form and follow her with a sigh.
This female will be the death of me. Regardless of whether I can die or not.