Nothing wrong with lending out your favourite Wood Elf for a fun little fuck.
Clutching a large wooden box under his arm, Master Smith Denham Mossclean was shown into Marshal Vishra’s office by the Clerk. As the Clerk returned to his work, Mossclean bowed correctly to Vishra. Vishra did not immediately acknowledge the bow. He was writing furiously. “My apologies” Vishra told Mossclean as he kept scribbling. “I need to get this down while it’s fresh in my mind.”
“Certainly, Lord.” Mossclean waited respectfully. He noted only one change to Vishra’s office since his last visit. On the wall behind Vishra’s desk hung a watercolour of a naked whore. He had noticed that the Clerk had glanced at the naked whore’s watercolour hungrily before he returned to his duties in the outer office.
Mossclean himself had looked at the image only long enough to see that the subject matter therein was truly offensive, the whore seemingly unashamed to be unclad in front of the pervert that had painted her in the nude, legs spread wide as if wanting to show herself. The clerk was weak to allow such a prurient image to excite him.
While Mossclean waited for Vishra to finish whatever work he was doing, he tried to ignore the pornographic picture. Against his will, Mossclean’s eyes repeatedly drifted back to the nudity on the wall, still repelled by the female slut portrayed. How disappointing that a Wood Elf girl would pose like that!
Mossclean looked away again. He stood quietly. The Marshall kept writing. With nothing else to do, Mossclean could not stop his eyes from returning several times to study the perfect curves of the evil harlot in the drawing, rendered there in assiduous detail by the artist.
The vixen was leaning back in her chair, her calves wrapped around its two front legs, her thighs spread open, her labia plainly revealed. She sat there without modesty, as if waiting for the viewer to have coitus with her right there on the furniture. Her erect nipples, as thick as thumbs, left no doubt that the female was most willing to allow the sexual violation of her body even if she and her lover were not yet joined in holy matrimony.
Mossclean mentally chastised himself. Shame on him for allowing his eyes to keep returning to the picture. Normally, he would not find such nakedness of any interest at all! Nudity disgusted him.
Thankfully, Vishra finally signed the document he had been working on and set it aside. He smiled at Mossclean, noticing him noticing the nude art on the wall but not wanting to embarrass the Blacksmith by mentioning his obvious stare.
Vishra always showed Mossclean great respect. A strange man, no doubt, but Vishra appreciated the weapons the Mosclean Clan had made for his family for the past two centuries or so. Most of those weapons were still in the possession of the Vishra Family; good, trustworthy weapons as serviceable today as they were when they had first been forged.
Three of the newest ones were made by Denham’s daughter. All Mossclean maces were magnificent weapons, but Vishra preferred those made by Miss Zanhass. There was a definite quality unique to them; the magic imbued in all Mossclean maces made them hum but when you swung a mace of Miss Zanhass’s making, that humming was quite pronounced.
“How was the fishing trip, Master Mossclean?”
Mossclean prevaricated. “I caught some trout, but it seems one cannot leave one’s home for a simple vacation anymore. I no sooner arrived home but I discovered someone maliciously trampled my prize roses. It used to be Willow Wood citizens knew how to show proper regard for your property!”
Vishra sympathized. “People have no respect for each others’ homes these days.”
Mossclean took a deep breath. In the matter of respect, he had another matter to bring forward to the Marshall. Though embarrassed to be bringing it up, he took the plunge. “If the Marshall has some time after our business, I crave your help in a family matter that came about due to my absence, Lord.”
Not further explaining what this family matter might be, Mossclean returned to the business at hand. He pulled out the large wooden box from under his arm and placed it on Vishra’s desk. He opened the lid and lifted out a brand new Mace, 7/8 regular size. “The weapon you requested, Lord. We took the liberty to make it slightly smaller to fit Lady Amber’s hand. If I dare boast, my daughter has never made better.”
“That’s high praise, Mossclean, all your daughter’s maces are of highest quality.”
“Thank you, Lord. Your compliment is most kind. I admit, I am very proud of her work.” Despite the pride in his voice, Mossclean seemed to have a catch in his throat as he spoke of his daughter.
“Knowing I would be pleased with the workmanship” Vishra responded “my Clerk already has your fee waiting at his desk.”
“Thank you for expediting payment, Lord Vishra. You are most considerate.”
Vishra hefted the mace in his hand, feeling its weight, admiring the skilled leatherwork in the griffin hide handle. He felt more than just the usual tingle of imbued magic that Vishra could always feel whenever he held a Mossclean mace. This one was so full of magic it hummed in his grip. In fact, it vibrated so much he momentarily considered that maybe he shouldn’t give it to his daughter. He feared she would use it as a dildo.
Quickly pushing aside the foolish concerns of such possible secondary uses for the mace, Vishra took a test swing. He expected the usual magical crackling hum that emanated from all magically imbued Mossclean maces when you swung them. Normally, the air would spark and a faint smell of burnt ozone would be detected.
This mace behaved far differently. Pulsing blue cracks of lightning bolts shot from the mace head and ran down the shaft to engulf Vishra’s entire arm nearly up his shoulder. Having not harmed Vishra in any way, the lightning quieted down to the occasional arc which appeared randomly from the tip of the mace and danced down the shaft to the griffin hide grip. There was something almost sexual in the crackling. Vishra suddenly wished Cadwarra was near so he could have a quick screw her with.
Vishra pushed his carnal desires aside. He would go get Cadwarra later. For now he was dealing with Mossclean. “This is indeed a very singular mace, Master Mossclean!” Vishra took a moment to further admire the quality of the work.. “Lady Amber will be well served by it.”
“Thank you, Marshall.” Mossclean, of course, was aware that the mace was of such a unique quality that it could fetch more coin on the common market than the fee to which he and Vishra had agreed. A deal was a deal, but all the same, Vishra was getting quite a bargain.
Vishra swung the weapon again, just to see the sparks fly up and down the shaft. He had to ask. “What, by Marr, did Zanhass do to make such a formidable weapon?”
“My apologies, Lord. She claims she cannot tell me. I told her to retrace her steps and surely she will remember what she did to produce the power held in this mace.”
“Well. If she figures it out, I’ll surely be ordering a few more.” Vishra reverently placed the mace back into its box and closed the lid. The mace was still humming inside the container, softly rattling in the box as it sat there on his desktop.
Vishra moved the box to the side and looked directly at Mosscleam. It was clear Mossclean was troubled about this mysterious ‘family matter’ he had mentioned. Vishra could hardly afford a man of Mossclean’s abilities to be distracted by a problem significant enough to upset him. Vishra indicated one of the soft chairs. Mossclean sat.
“You mentioned some trouble in your household” Vishra prompted. He already knew this had to do with Mossclean’s daughter. The Old Druidess had been by earlier to discuss recent developments as regards the Mossclean Family. He would certainly help.
Unaware of the Old Druidess’s interloping, Mossclean was not sure how to confess to the scandal his family was enduring. At a loss how to start, he merely blurted out “I need my daughter married, she’s been sullied by some opportunistic boy that she foolishly allowed into the smithy unchaperoned. All week! I confronted her about the many customers’ complaints that they had found the shop closed to business and...and...” here, Mossclean took a ragged breath “...and obvious sounds coming from within.”
Mossclean paused there and struggled to hold himself together. He continued after a short, emotional silence. “It was totally his fault, angling to seduce my Innocent Child. Up until he came along Zanhass never even looked at boys. But like a good daughter, she confessed in tears as to what this boy...” and here once more Mossclean choked on his words “...what this boy was doing to her.”
Mossclean was visibly upset but pulled himself together and continued to relate the disgusting details, horror in his voice. “He had his way with her, Marshall...in the smithy...more than just a few times...” Mossclean then paused to quickly defend his daughter’s lost honour. “...quite against her will, I am sure.”
“I am sure it was, Mossclean.”
Vishra had known Mossclean’s daughter since she was first put to work hauling in charcoal to feed her father’s forge. He had admired how she filled the scuttle to overflow and without complaining did her best to carry as much charcoal per trip as her father was able to do. Of course the darling little thing could not lift such a load but Vishra had noted on subsequent visits that it had not taken long for her to be carrying a load almost as large as those her father could lift.
“Well” the Marshall suggested, not without sympathy “grab your biggest smithy hammer and explain to this boy that he needs to do the right thing by your daughter!”
“Of course, Lord Vishra, now that I have your permission, I will proceed to do just that!”
“My permission?” Vishra sat there in consternation. If Mossclean was asking him permission, it boded ill that somehow this sexual trespass on Mossclean’s daughter involved Vishra House. He had to ask the obvious question. “Why do you require my permission to knock some sense into a boy stupid enough to take advantage of the daughter of a man with your physical strength?”
Vishra could see the huge muscles in Mossclean’s arms flexing angrily as if he ached to throttle the boy that had so defiled his daughter. Despite the sympathy Vishra had for a father, he did understand why a young man would be unable to resist the chance to bed a cutie as comely as Zanhass Mossclean.
Vishra recalled his last visit to the Mosscleam smithy. Like all of Mossclean’s customers present in the shop that day, he had been acutely aware of the tits that Mossclean’s daughter had recently been growing on her chest. Her body was preparing to tempt lovers, as all female bodies were intended to do.
Master Mossclean’s protective instincts that day drove him to wait on every customer himself, leaving his daughter to toil at various tasks and keeping her away from those leering male stares.
Unable to quickly serve all the customers that had come in that day, Mossclean’s fatherly efforts had had the opposite result. Half a dozen males stood there waiting their turn with nothing to do but watch the curvy Mossclean girl work.
Despite her recent developments, Vishra had noted that Zanhass was still wearing the same simple clothes that she had worn all through her girlhood. They had caused no comment back then but as her maturing curves became apparent and those two small nipples on her undeveloped chest sprouted into perfectly shaped tits, those same tomboy clothes failed to hide the womanly developments a more prudent set of clothes would have concealed from the hungry gazes of all the healthy men that were in the forge that day.
Like the other men, Vishra had noticed the way young Zanhass’s tits jiggled under her shirt as she hammered away, producing iron nails at an impressive rate. As thin as the cloth was, he could see her nipples were puffies. He could not help staring at them.
Zanhass had clearly noticed where Lord Vishra was looking. Her nipples rose in embarrassment from the attention. All the men had their eyes on her tits but it was the powerful Lord Vishra whose scrutiny she most enjoyed. Knowing he was admiring the obvious bumps she was showing, Miss Zanhass Mossclean had looked saucily into Vishra’s eyes.
Her station in life would have required her to lower her gaze as soon as she realized Lord Vishra was looking back at her. Instead, she maintained eye contact with the very handsome Marshall. It made her feel strange...in a good way.
She had maintained her immodest stare. She liked him looking at her tits. Proud of them, she wondered if Lord Vishra would like it if she lifted her shirt for him to see them better.
There was a tense pause. Zanhass had felt that odd buzzing that happened when she caught men looking at her newbies. The charcoal in her forge seemed to burn hotter. She wondered if those other men were not in the shop, would she be brave enough to show Marshall Vishra her bare chest? The mere thought of doing that seemed to encourage the coals to burn hotter yet.
“Zanhass” Master Mossclean had called out to his daughter from the adjacent storage room, interrupting the charged moment. “Where did you put Marshall Vishra’s breastplate?”
The buzzing around her had faded. Guilty to realize what naughty, exhibitionistic thoughts she had been having with her father only just there in the adjoining room, the flustered Miss Mossclean had turned without saying “excuse me” to Lord Vishra.
Rushing to aid her father, Vishra could see Zanhass’s cute ass. Nearly a decade of hauling heavy loads of charcoal ensured it was shapely and firm. Her youthful body was very, very sexy and Vishra had suddenly wanted to really fuck her good, small teen though she was.
Her cute butt disappeared into the store room, leaving Vishra with the other customers and the ribald image in his head of Zanhass completely naked in front of him, grinning and moving her bare shoulders such that her shaking tits would fly from side to side for him to watch. The image gave him a big embarrassing erection while he waited for Miss Mossclean to come back with his armour piece. He leaned nearer the counter to conceal his hard dick as best he could. The trials of having a big cock!
Hastily returning with the breastplate to the waiting Marshall, Zanhass was unaware of his inappropriate fantasies regarding her tiny Wood Elf body and swinging tits. She was, regardless, well aware her breasts were clearly jiggling under her shirt. All the men were looking at them. She fought the ridiculous urge to cross her arms to hide the fact her nipples had woken up and were showing under her top. She ignored the other men’s stares and spoke to Vishra, managing to keep her voice unemotional. “My Father said there was no charge for such a minor repair.”
As she spoke, Zanhass’s hard nippled titties had just sat there, a mere foot from Vishra, almost inviting him to reach out and have a quick squeeze. He imagined in horror the squeal of surprise the Mossclean daughter would make if he in fact did so. Master Mossclean would have emerged from the back room to see what was the commotion and soon enough realize what Vishra had done in front of several witnesses. All the good will between the efficient Mossclean Blacksmithing Firm and the Noble Vishra House would be ruined, all because Vishra could not keep his hands off that pretty maiden.
Wisdom had prevailed and Vishra had not reached for those perky tits.
Nothing more would have happened had Zanhass not finally decided at that point to modestly lower her gaze. Unfortunately, her eyes fell on that part of Marshall Vishra that was betraying his thoughts. She was puzzled by whatever the Marshall had in his leggings. It was quite long and large as it bulged there. For some reason, she stared at it with intense interest. She felt...odd; the same ‘odd’ she felt when she had gotten that mad urge a few minutes ago to to pull up her shirt for Lord Vishra to inspect her new titties. That buzzing returned. Flames rose high in the forge.
Vishra had decided he and his hard-on best leave quickly. He made his sudden excuses to a very puzzled Miss Mosslean. “I need to go see the Old Druidess” he suddenly told her and exited quickly, with little ceremony. He left his breastplate lying there.
Embarrassed by his insane urge to sexually assault the little Mossclean girl, he had hurried over to the Old Druidess’s cottage trying to think of an excuse to talk to her. He sincerely hoped none of the other customers had seen the huge erection that Zanhass had so unwittingly inspired. He cursed his luck that that girl’s blossoming body had fully aroused him when the smithy was full of a half dozen witnesses.
As he did back when he was a horny student, he had ‘casually’ stuck his hands in his front pockets to hide his hard prick. He walked resolutely into the Old Druidess’s cottage, still not sure what he would say was his reason for visiting.
Upon entrance, the Old Druidess had certainly noticed what the Marshall was trying to hide. “Don’t bring that huge thing in here, Vishra. You’re a century or two too late for me to help you with your current condition.”
Despite her claim that she could not be of assistance, the Old Druidess had tapped her yew staff twice and Vishra’s big boner was mercifully soft in a thrice. Not hiding her bemused smile, the Old Druidess reached for the teapot. “Sit down, Vishra, now that you can. I can only assume you noticed Mossclean’s daughter? We should discuss her.”
Vishra had sat and allowed the Old Druidess to pour. She was quite candid about Zanhass. “She’s quite the early bloomer, isn’t she? Don’t think I haven’t noticed all the males of late who leave that shop in the same state you were in just now; ambling down the road with their hands jammed in their front pockets...”
The Old Druidess had set the teapot down. “It’s so nice to the see girls of the younger generation honouring Tunare by enticing you males as intended. That Mossclean girl has slipped quite easily into the art of cockteasing, hasn’t she?”
“I almost grabbed her tit just now.” Vishra confessed.
The Old Druidess had understood how men were. She did not judge Vishra. Of course Zanhass’s maturing body had enticed him. She simply asked “I surmise you correctly resisted the urge?”
She brought the teacups over. Her tone was very serious as she set one down in front of Vishra. “It was well you refrained. Do not molest her, please, Vishra. It is clear the Goddess Tunare has plans for her.” She picked up her own teacup and sipped. “I just wish I knew what those plans were...”
Wisely, Vishra had not returned to the smithy that day. He had had a servant fetch his breastplate.
That incident had been several weeks ago. As he sat there at his desk in front of Master Mossclean, Vishra realized he had been silent for some time, lost in thoughts about Zanhass’s sexy little body while her father stood there politely, wondering what it was that Marshall Vishra was silently dwelling on for so long. “I can see you are as upset as I am” Master Mossclean ventured to say.
Mossclean’s words guilted Vishra for having such unsavoury thoughts about Zanhass’s attractive figure. He looked at Mossclean, realizing he needed to make up a reason for his extended silence. He improvised. “Of course. Of course, Smith Mossclean. As you see, I am very upset. I believe your daughter is of age and can legally give her consent as she pleases but, still, a girl really must remain a virgin until a boy has at least become betrothed to her.”
“It’s best to wait for the wedding night” Mossclean countered. In his zeal he uncharacteristically contradicted a Lord. “...and then it’s just for purposes of procreation.”
“On the other hand, be fair, Mossclean. The poor boy might have been tempted by the scant clothing your daughter is wont to wear. I might recommend, in view of her developing body, that Zanhass should in future be wearing less body-hugging attire. The boy should not have seduced your daughter under your own roof, certainly, and I know your daughter well enough to know she did not in any way indicate she would welcome his advances but he can hardly be totally at fault considering the misinterpretation he naturally took from your daughter’s fully modest but skimpy clothing.”
Mossclean clearly bristled to hear what was in fact valid criticism about the way he allowed his daughter to dress. “I won’t make my daughter overdress in the heart of that forge, Lord Vishra. She’d faint from the heat!”
Mossclean’s voice rose in further defense of his daughter’s work apparel. “Those boys come into my smithy wanting only one thing! They have no business looking at her and getting all those evil thoughts. They’ll just need to stop letting the sight of her make them lustful and filling their filthy minds with...ideas!”
Vishra diplomatically nodded in agreement. “Certainly they’re wrong to get rigid. Nothing a quick jerking off won’t take care of, I am sure.”
Mossclean was hardly comforted. He was repulsed by the idea of those hypothetical boys hypothetically pumping away on their hypothetical erections while they fantasized about his beautiful daughter. He had not raised her to be some adolescents’ masturbatory aid. The thought of a boy wailing away on his hard pecker while thinking about Zanhass’s untouchably chaste body was too much for Master Mossclean to ponder!
Vishra’s practical suggestion about boyhood self-abuse in fact merely served to upset Mossclean further. He clearly was not seeing reason. “They just need to stop...things...from happening...to their things...down below. They can’t go touching themselves and thinking about my daughter...like that!” Mossclean took a gulp of air and finished his tirade by angrily muttering something unintelligible. All that the Blacksmith could choke out in his near apoplexy was one final, fragmented outburst of “...disgusting lecherous boner boys...coveting my chaste child!” He then fell into further unintelligible utterances.
Mossclean was in such a state that Vishra feared he was having a seizure. He tried to calm the Blacksmith. “She’s hardly a child, Mossclean. She’s become a young woman.” Vishra rose and reached into his top desk drawer. He pulled out the Kelethin whiskey he and Bowerbrook had enjoyed the other night when he had agreed to share Cadwarra in exchange for Bowerbrook’s sister. Two glasses followed. “Let me pour you a drink, Denham, and we’ll review our options. We need to remember what it was like to be a frustrated young man surrounded by all those nubile young girls. There is a reason girls have two breasts and boys have two hands. Those tits they grow aren’t just for feeding babies.”
Vishra pulled the stopper from the bottle with a pop and poured two shots. To Mossclean’s horror he then walked over to that lewd picture of the Wood Elf hanging on the wall. Denham’s anger had allowed him to forget about that nude, hard-nippled female. Now Vishra was drawing his attention back to the brazen wanton portrayed there on highest quality art paper.
Mossclean tried to not look at the girl but Vishra seemed to want to discuss her. “I saw you studying this drawing when you first came in, Mossclean. The artist is Master Daniel Clothspinner-Willingdon but I assume you were admiring the subject of the painting more than you were admiring the talent of the painter. Nevertheless, he is quite a good artist, isn’t he?”
Mossclean silently wished Master Daniel would use his artistic talents for producing landscapes or sunsets instead of drawing nude Wood Elf girls. Despite that sentiment, Mossclean’s eyes fixed again on the breasts revealed in the picture. They were so round and big. Admittedly quite beautiful...if bare breasts were something you liked to look at. Mossclean did not like to look at bare breasts.
Ashamed of himself, Mossclean tried not to look further at the slutty boobies but his eyes returned to look at them again. He wondered just how soft they would feel in his grasp as he played with them.
Mossclean dismissed such a thought and guiltily tore his hungry gaze away. What was wrong with him? Female breasts never affected him before....except that one time...on his wedding night...when he took his wife with such urgency he blushed to think of his unbridled thrusting...the night Zanhass was conceived. He had behaved so atrociously while on top of his bride.
Mossclean did not want to think of that night. Resenting the similar feelings the wicked image on the wall had just evoked in him, he wanted to pull it down and tear it to pieces. He tried not to think about squeezing the tits portrayed there, imagining them laying heavy in his hand. If they could just change the subject he could dismiss such disgusting thoughts. But Vishra was not done talking about that accursed female nakedness so indecently on display.
“Master Daniel gifted this image to me.” Vishra boasted. “He thought I would like it since the subject of the painting is my newest mistress, Viscountess Cadwarra. She’s a real dream, isn’t she? Not surprisingly, she’s just finished curing the Fairwick boy of his homosexuality. Like a real man, he couldn’t resist those big tits and wide open thighs of hers!”
Vishra paused and studied the nude image a moment. “She’s also just been appointed Ambassador to the Steelhooves” he added proudly. “In that capacity, she has recently had your daughter make her ceremonial armour in preparation for her trip to meet with Chief Kraughl and other dignitaries.”
Still holding both full glasses of whiskey, Vishra took a moment to allow Mossclean to also admire Cadwarra, sitting there so proudly as she posed nude. He was letting Mossclean view that picture with no more concern than if it was an image of his prize racehorse or his new yacht.
“I am sure Clothspinner-Willingdon has kept a few watercolours of Cadwarra for himself” Vishra remarked casually with no hint of jealousy. “Not that I can blame him” he added “look at those nips she’s displaying!”
Mossclean politely looked at Lady Cadwarra’s ‘nips’. To his horror, they affected him. They stood up so tall. He stared a moment then forced himself to look away. He could not believe the Marshall would stand there showing off pictures of his concubine in the buff like that, casually discussing the state of her teats.
Mossclean was askance that a Viscountess would pose like that; knowing so many men would be seeing her naked picture. Had she no modesty? He stood there embarrassed for her, puzzled as to why Vishra had diverted the conversation to a discussion of his slut’s political duties. He needed to change the subject. “I trust my daughter did a good job with the armour, Lord.”
Vishra finally remembered he was holding two glasses of expensive liquor. He held out one of the two whiskeys to Mossclean. They clinked glasses. “Your daughter did an excellent job on that armour, Mossclean. Lady Cadwarra modeled her outfit for me last night. It’s lovely work...all of Cadwarra’s soft flesh that that armour didn’t cover. It gave me a hard-on right away.”
Vishra took a long pull of his whiskey and candidly reflected back on the pleasures of last night’s visit. “Cadwarra’s armour pieces were so easy to take off. Quite convenient to have her chainmail bra unclip at the front. By Marr, what a willing little tiger she is! I fucked her thrice. I wager she had a half dozen orgasms while I took my fun!”
Mossclean took a sip of the exquisite whiskey in an attempt to hide his unease at the subject being discussed so explicitly. He tried in vain to not look at Cadwarra’s bare bosoms above Vishra’s desk. He could not keep his eyes off those erect tips.
Vishra also took a sip of whiskey, his thoughts on Cadwarra’s loving arms around him. He looked at Cadwarra’s open thighs in the picture. His prick had felt so good sliding into the real thing last night. He fought the ridiculous urge to leave Mossclean to enjoy the whiskey alone while he went to get Cadwarra and again use her body for the purpose it was made.
Of course he could not do that. He needed to force himself back to dealing with Mossclean. He forgot about Cadwarra, at least until he could get to her bed again. He made a mental note to install a teleporting door from his office directly to Cadwarra’s apartment.
Such an installation would need to wait. Vishra spoke respectfully to the Blacksmith. “...But how lovely my mistress looks in that Mossclean armour is not why I have mentioned Cadwarra; we were talking earlier about how boys like to feel tits. As you can see, Lady Cadwarra’s are quite ample. When she has my son, she’ll have lots of milk for him. She’s already making some.”
Mossclean sat there, puzzling over why the Marshall felt compelled to boast to a mere tradesman about his mistress’s baby feeding capability. “I see” he lied.
Vishra could see Mossclean was not understanding. He explained. “The armour is very stylish and is certainly going to catch the eye of many a courtier. It’s quite lovely. Your daughter is very clever. I am in fact so pleased with it that I want to commission some complementary mix and match pieces of armour so Lady Cadwarra can switch out her look on consecutive days. I am very proud of her and want the new pieces to allow everyone to see how lovely her exposed breasts are. You know how the old adage goes: ‘The measure of a man’s success is revealed by the beauty of his mistresses’. I want everybody to see the ‘measure of my success’.”
Mossclean was finding the conversation quite uncomfortable. “Shall I send my daughter to consult with you on exactly what additional armour pieces you would like, Lord?”
“Well” Vishra replied “I am pleased to inform you that your daughter is going to be busy over at my mansion. My wife took one look at the armour Zanhass did for my daughter and has jealously decided she needs a new set of ceremonial armour for herself. She’s asked me to arrange for Zanhass to attend upon her. Once Zanhass is done with that armour I’ll need her to make a mace for our Lady Cadwarra.” Vishra reached forward and tapped the box containing Amber’s mace. “One of the quality of this one if Zanhass can remember how she did it. By Marr, Mossclean, Cadwarra is still using her training mace issued to her by Captain Trandall.”
Mossclean took all this in with decidedly mixed feelings while Vishra summed things up. “You see how nicely we all benefit, Mossclean? Vishra House will get some new armour, you’ll get a good bit of business and Zanhass will be too busy to be chasing this young sex maniac she is having so much trouble shooing off. The only drawback, if you wish to call it that, is that you will therefore need to handle Lady Cadwarra’s additional armour pieces yourself.”
Vishra deliberately did not give Mossclean a chance to object to attending to Cadwarra in his shop. Knowing Mossclean was obviously not happy about working with a near naked female but would not dare interrupt, Vishra immediately launched into his ideas for Cadwarra’s added armour pieces. “I was thinking that as an option the Lady Cadwarra could swap out her chainmail bra with one of plate. We’ll make it one of those shelf bras so her tits are just sitting there uncovered so everyone can see her nipples rise and fall in accordance with her ‘changing mood’. Her slowly hardening nipples would be quite entertaining to watch as they spring up as high as they are in that picture, don’t you think, Mossclean?”
Mossclean found the thought disturbing. He knew the annual Royal Review of the Guards was coming up and everyone would be wearing their best armour. Did Vishra actually expect his mistress to appear in public with her nipples exposed? He managed to keep his response neutral. “We can make such a piece, Lord Vishra.”
“Perfect!” Vishra took a sip of his whiskey and announced proudly “her tatas are so round, Mossclean. They sway so beautifully as she walks, it’s a shame to hide them. You’ll agree when you see them sitting there in that quartercup bra.”
It was obvious Mossclean had something to say about seeing Lady Cadwarra’s breasts sitting there in the flesh but, hardly taking a breath, Vishra continued. “The mini-skirt your daughter designed barely covers Lady Cadwarra’s ass. It’s perfect but I wonder if Lady Cadwarra could occasionally swap it out for a long maxi skirt down to her ankles. I know, that’s a lot of chainmail but just add it to the bill. Lady Cadwarra will look so elegant in it.”
Vishra was getting excited to eventually be seeing Cadwarra in those actual skirts, now that he was putting his concepts into words. “We’ll need a slit in one side that reaches right up to those round hips of hers. That slit, by the way, is fast becoming her trademark fashion accent. The Lady seems to have built it into everything she wears of late...and why not with those perfect legs of hers!”
Vishra took another excited gulp of his whiskey. “Damn, Mossclean! Her gams are beautiful enough when she is naked, but the sight of one of them poking out of her skirts every other step should be deemed cruel and unusual punishment! I’m sure I’m not the only male that gets stiff when I see her walking about in one of those skirts of hers!”
Despite Mossclean’s clear horror at the thought of seeing the full length of Viscountess Cadwarra’s leg, Vishra’s words never slowed. “I am sure you’ll be unable to resist running your hand up her limb while helping her don her new accessories, Mossclean. Lady Cadwarra won’t mind if your hand lingers a bit on her thigh...and you have my permission to do so.”
Mossclean’s voice betrayed the stunned horror he felt at the suggestion he allow his hand to linger on a female limb. He could only repeat Vishra’s words in a subdued voice tinged with horror “...if my hand lingers a bit, Lord Vishra?”
“Yes, Mossclean. Cadwarra will be fine with it. She likes men to touch her, trust me.”
Mossclean rallied his courage. He tried to be diplomatic. “I truly believe my daughter can do all this work, Lord. Meanwhile, I can take care of all the horseshoes, farm implements and ironmongery that comes in.”
Despite the clear desperation in Mossclean’s voice, Vishra was having none of that. “I am afraid you will need to look after Lady Cadwarra’s armour and accessories personally. I want your daughter to be working exclusively on Lady Vishra’s armour. My wife was clear in her request for Zanhass to do the work and a wise man never tells his wife ‘no’. What time Zanhass has left over must be devoted to forging Lady Cadwarra’s mace.”
Vishra paused then to reassure Mossclean. “Don’t be concerned, Mossclean. Lady Cadwarra will quite enjoy working with you, I am sure. You should find it to be quite a fun time...her boobs are so firm. Go ahead and have a squeeze and see for yourself what you think. Don’t worry, she loves having them played with.” Vishra took a small sip and added “that little Wood Elf just loves getting felt up!”
As if having the breasts of a near naked woman in his hands was not horrifying enough to Denham Mossclean, Lord Vishra continued the unintended torment. “In case the work requires you to work into the evening, I can instruct Cadwarra to stay in Willow Wood until the morning so you can resume work early. I know you haven’t much room for a guest but she can share your bed. She’s quite small and requires very little sleep...if you follow me, Mossclean.”
Mossclean was in shock. He drained his shotglass. Vishra reached forward to refill it. Mossclean tried to graciously accept the refill but his hand was shaking so much that he spilled a good portion of the expensive alcohol on the floor. Completely upset by the thought of having a female in his bed he bolted down in one gulp all that had made it into the glass. It was positively scary that he should spend all afternoon with a mostly nude Cadwarra that would then stay the night under his blankets. The very thought terrified him. “Thank you, Lord” he stammered “but I fear my bed is really too narrow for two.”
“Really, Mossclean? Let me see to that.” The Marshall scribbled out a quick memo while explaining to Mossclean “I can’t have my mistress in an uncomfortable bed. No sense annoying the girl. Head Butler Jameson was remarking just the other day on the clutter in our furniture storage facilities. I’ll instruct him to send you over a decent sized bed. You’ll be doing us a service by freeing up some storage space.”
Mossclean realized Marshall Vishra was trying to do him a favour, lending him one of his mistresses and gifting him a nice big bed for the purpose. The repulsion he had felt just a moment ago at the idea of a female’s bare body sleeping next to him had caused him to be quite rude to the Marshall despite the misguided generosity. He atoned. “That’s very good of you, Lord. I apologize for my ingratitude just now; I fear my daughter’s situation has me too preoccupied to remember my manners.”
To Mossclean’s relief, the Marshall seemed to understand. “The concern you are showing for your daughter is quite commendable, Denham. I agree we need to address the adulterous indulgences into which this lecherous young man of hers has lead her.”
Mossclean accepted another refill of the whiskey glass, spilling less this time. He bolted it down. It quieted his concerns a trifle. “Forgive me, nonetheless, Lord. I am just so angry that I have not protected my daughter. To think of a boy doing...that...to her after he had convinced her to be...naked...under him...using her before the proper wedding vows. It has quite upset me.”
“Of course, Mossclean.” Vishra refilled Mosscean’s glass yet again, genuinely hating to see a good man be so hard on himself. He had not failed his daughter. The girl was merely exploring her newfound lust with a perfectly acceptable boyfriend. He had said as much to the Old Druidess when she had dropped in to also discuss the subject of marriage between Miss Mossclean and this boyfriend of hers. Of course, the Old Druidess’s reasons for joining those two in wedlock were much more practical than Mossclean’s instinctive impulse to protect his daughter’s reputation.
Mossclean knocked back the whiskey yet again. His inebriated state lead him to ramble on about things he would not have mentioned sober. “Thinking of my daughter like that; it reminded me of how basely I had acted on my wedding night. That was the only time I let that Demoness Tunare awaken my lust and compel me into carnal actions on top of my innocent bride...”
Vishra let Mossclean talk. He already knew the details of that night but he could hardly tell Mossclean how he knew.
“I’ve never told anyone this” Mossclean continued in confession “but the things I did on our wedding night...purely for my pleasure...lying on top of my new wife, ramming like a bull in the field just so I could see her exposed mammaries shake as I thrust brutally...selfishly...into her. I knew even as I was taking her that that the evil Being, Tunare, was at fault. I somehow let her possess me that night such that I was driven to such base animal passions!”
Vishra nodded, not judging. Mossclean took a deep breath and went on. “It was so shameful...how I acted...it was Tunare...that evil goddess Tunare...she drove me to do it; shooting my seed into my bride. When I was done and the insanity which Tunare had inspired in me vanished, I swore to my good spouse I would never do that to her ever again.”
By now, the tipsy Mossclean was slurring his words slightly. “My brave wife accepted my apology. She insisted I, as her husband, should have the right to her body whenever I wanted, even suggesting we do it again immediately. I assured her I would not humiliate her by doing that again. The shame!”
Mossclean took another swallow of whiskey. Calming a little he added “fortunately my wife became with child immediately so there was no need to repeat the vile act I had visited on her innocent body. I can’t stand to think of my daughter enduring that very same abuse from that boy. She’s not as strong as her mother, you see?”
...And Mossclean wondered why his wife ran off, Vishra reflected with an inward sigh. Pour Mossclean was a good soul but he never understood that his wife had wanted exactly what he had given her on their wedding night. After several attempts over the years, Vishra should have given up trying to explain that to Mossclean. Unbelievably, Mossclean had just turned down an offer to freely enjoy a Vishra Mistress and her loving body. Even the nude watercolour he had made sure to hang there that morning had not been compelling enough to interest Mossclean in Cadwarra’s affections.
Vishra decided there was no sense talking to Mossclean about his inexplicable revulsion to having a soft willing female under him. Mossclean was an honest, decent man, but his total disinterest in physical loving was incomprehensible to Vishra.
He had told the Old Druidess exactly that when she had insisted to Vishra that Cadwarra needed to have intercourse with Master Mossclean. Vishra had protested there was no hope of a union between Cadwarra and Mossclean but Elsabethia had asserted that this was the only way to deal with the problem of Cadwarra’s ineffectual heal spells. “The Mossclean family has a gift, some magic quality” she had told him. “If you want your student’s heal spells to improve, we need to impart that magic quality into Cadwarra. You’ll just need to get Master Mossclean physically interested in Cadwarra.”
Elsabethia had waved away further objections. She just told him “find a way, Vishra.”
Well, he had tried to find a way. It was impossible.
Vishra decided he had best get back to the other issue at hand. “You needed my permission to beat Zanhass’s bounder of a boyfriend up. You haven’t explained why you needed my permission.”
Mossclean was understandably nervous to explain. He regretted he was involving the Marshall in his problems but was forced to do so under the circumstances. “Well, I did fail to explain that, Lord. Apologies.”
Mossclean took a long breath to try to clear the alcohol from his thoughts. “I am afraid this conniving little cad taking advantage of my beloved daughter is in your employ, Lord; a Page named Kivan Oakwood. His only redeeming quality is that he is a Wood Elf...but he has clearly not acted like an honourable Wood Elf. There’s a big hole burnt into my benchtop which wasn’t there before this lecherous youth showed up. My daughter has been vague as to how that happened but obviously it was his doing. She is defending her despoiler for some irrational reason only a fallen woman can understand.”
Vishra had a recollection of who Kivan Oakwood was. He was the lad that had tripped over his tongue as he ogled Cadwarra’s exposed thigh in the corridor leading from the banquet hall. Oysters had spilled out all over the costly Maj’Dul carpet in a metaphorical ejaculation of extremely expensive bivalve mollusks. The Old Druidess might have done him the courtesy of disclosing that the villain ravaging the Mossclean girl was this Appetizer-spiller. Or maybe she had told him but had said so in her typical roundabout way so confusing that he had not understood.
Vishra had to admire the young lad’s taste in women but he accepted Vishra House’s disservice to the Mossclean Family. “I apologize for my servant’s disrespect to you” he told Mossclean sincerely. “I assure you this foolish employee will be marrying your daughter as soon as I can get ahold of him by the scruff of his irresponsible neck and shake some sense into him. We’ll deal with him before he gets a chance to hightail it out of the City leaving your innocent daughter to have to explain to some future husband why she was not a virgin on her wedding night.”
Mossclean appeared relieved. He seemed to forget about his urge to punch Kivan’s candles out. Vishra rose and shouted toward the outer office. “Clerk! If you please!”
The Clerk answered his summons immediately. His eyes barely lingered on Cadwarra’s picture before he looked to Vishra and Mossclean.
“Do you know of one of our retainers; a Wood Elf named Kivan Oakwood?” Vishra asked.
The Clerk bowed to both Vishra and Mossclean then supplied all he knew of the lad. “Kivan Oakwood is currently the Squire of your mistress Cadwarra and resides with her at 25 Karana Way. He is taking lessons in armour repair from Master Mossclean’s daughter.”
The Clerk then lowered his voice respectfully as he delicately supplied one added piece of disquieting information. “The rumour in Willow Wood Tavern is that the lesson’s are....ahem...unnecessarily long.”
Mossclean became noticeably agitated again. “You see, Lord? Even those wastrels in the Tavern know about this rake and what he has done to my dear child!
The Marshall remained calm. His tone was reassuring. “We’ll sort this out, Mossclean. You are completely correct to be concerned.” He turned to his clerk “Thank you. Would you be kind enought to get Baltazar to go hunt Squire Kivan down and bring him to me? I will need to explain to him what his honourable intentions are with Master Mossclean’s daughter.”
The Clerk bowed and made to hurry away but Lord Vishra stopped his departure a moment. “We need to augment the payment due to Master Mossclean for the mace that he delivered today. Please add another platinum coin to the payment.”
The Clerk nodded obediently, not even batting an eye at the exorbitant increase in payment. With one last surreptitious look at Cadwarra’s watercolour breasts, he bowed and was gone, thinking of the fuck he had had with Lady Cadwarra several days ago on those very same practice mats he was now walking over.
Vishra looked at Master Mossclean, holding his empty whiskey glass. The Blacksmith was sitting there quite inebriated but in obvious relief to have the matter being resolved. He was so lost in worry for his daughter that he almost missed the kindness Lord Vishra had just extended to him. “Thank you for the extra plat, Lord Vishra. I will see that my daughter gets it. At least she did something right during my absence.”
“Come, come, Mossclean” the Marshall answered encouragingly “It may be she has found a good match. I am sure that Zanhass would be able to repel this lad’s advances if she had not been so enjoying his unilateral intentions. Perhaps she has recognized certain qualities in the lad for which we should give her credit; he seems a hard working boy. And he’s a Wood Elf, Mossclean! There’s a positive right there! Surely you want a purebred grandchild. You wouldn’t want some little half-Human brat running around the smithy, for example.”
Vishra’s tone remained positive as he kept talking. The Old Druidess had impressed on him how much the Temple of Life wanted Zanhass to marry. He was not going to offend a houseful of Druids and Clerics. He was trying to make the whole thing as palatable as could be to Mossclean. Besides, for all the years he had known Mossclean he owed him assistance in this difficult situation.
“We’ll make it a big wedding, Mossclean, and then have the reception at the Vishra Manor. Lady Vishra will organize it. My daughter, Amber, has a talent for planning parties, she can discuss ideas for the menu with Zanhass. You and I can choose the wine list. I’ll get all the Vishra mistresses to host the bachelor party. I’ll tell them to ensure the Groom will be behaving chastely...saving himself for his wedding night duties to your daughter.”
Mossclean looked uncomfortable to be hearing mentions of the wedding night. Vishra was quite confident the nuptials would proceed satisfactorily. His words continued optimistic. “She’ll be pregnant before we wake up next day nursing our hangovers, Mossclean. You’ve said yourself you needed more help at the forge. She’ll conceive a good strapping grandson.”
The two men toasted to the future though Mossclean was less enthusiastic than Vishra. Somewhat mollified and quite tipsy, he left Vishra’s office and headed home to Willow Wood. He was still not very happy about the situation, but at least Vishra was going to ensure this horny boy was going to make his daughter an honest woman. And he would have a grandchild to whom he could teach the blacksmithing trade. He would enjoy that.
Vishra returned to his mundane paperwork. He frowned at the tall stack of legal briefs regarding dozens of claims from families who had lost crops, livestock and family in the Darkpaw attacks. The stack in front of Vishra were just the claims the Law Firm was unable to sort out speedily. The Barristers were asking instructions on how Vishra wished them to proceed.
Not for the first time he wished Queen Antonia had assigned another Lord to the task. He was obliged to use his own lawyers at his own expense to deal with the mess while the draft proposal required prior to the conception of Cadwarra’s Vishra sons was sitting unfinished. The only employee working on the Maternity document was a first year clerk who had completely botched up the clauses providing for annual suits of armour as the Bastard Boys grew. Against a senior clerk’s recommendation, Vishra had insisted as well that Cadwarra be paid part-in-kind with a suit of fighting armour for herself. His son and his grandnephew were not going to see their mother ill-equipped and think themselves paupers. Sadly, this work added to the time to complete the contract document.
Inspired to resolve all these claims and get his lawyers back to Cadwarra’s breeding contract, Vishra dug through the stack to find the one most on his mind; the one he had put aside repeatedly, unsure how to address it.
He read and reread the claim submitted by Nelda Mossclean for the murder of her commonlaw husband. “Mrs. Denham Mossclean” the Senior Barrister had written “has never been legally divorced from her actual husband, who is still alive and capable of offering her financial support. She therefore has no legal claim for compensation, in our opinion.”
Vishra poured the last of the Kelethin Whiskey. He really must order a case of it, he thought. He sipped and reread his lawyers’ arguments.
He thought of Nelda. When she married Denham Mossclean she was a pretty young girl. She had freely taken on her duties as wife and mother. She had picked a good provider to marry.
After only a few years she had left Mossclean, depressed and unhappy by a marriage without physical love.
She had arrived without appointment at Vishra’s office. That was hardly a dozen years ago; only weeks after his Father’s death. “You’re the Marshal, now” she had said “you need a mistress to help you relax.”
She had stood quite close. Her breasts brushed against him. “You like Wood Elf women, don’t you?” She opened her blouse to show him how firm her tits were, heavy and swollen with milk for her daughter. She had puffy nipples. They were inverted but popped out under his inspection. “Suck on them” she offered “I’ve seen you looking at them.”
Of course, he had a professional relationship with her husband. He could not possibly keep her as a mistress. He had bought her a cottage out in the farmlands. In his younger days he had often had business in the vicinity. It wasn’t too far out of his way to drop in to see how she was. Nelda always liked him to stay the night.
Recalling the feel of Nelda’s nakedness under his caresses, he realized with a shock that her body was so very similar to her daughter’s. No wonder Zanhass had turned him on. No wonder he had suddenly gotten that image of Zanhass shaking her tits for him to watch, just as her mother used to do whenever she had wanted to get him ‘ready’. Nelda would give him that impish grin and move her shoulders rapidly until her tits were flying wildly all over her chest.
He sat at his desk lost in thought. His cock was hard from his memories of Nelda kneeling there on her cottage floor eagerly sucking him off. He would push the back of her head down harder and harder until his huge cock began to pump out a massive load of cum for her. He remembered one time when she had pulled his cock out of her mouth and aimed it at her face. Soaring spasms of semen doused her from chin to forehead. She had giggled that lovely giggle she had.
The affair had ended long ago. Any young ‘widow’ with land will soon be able to catch a good man. Nelda soon had one in her life. Vishra was almost relieved that their guilty affair was over. He had wished her well...
It had grown dark while Vishra held the Lawyer’s letter in his hand, mulling over the illicit affair. Vishra put the paper down. He did the arithmetic. Nelda would be twenty-nine now.
He realized he had been staring at the paper so long it was too dark to read without a lantern. He did not need to read the legal brief again, though. Vishra picked up his quill. “Please consider this woman to be legally married to the deceased” he wrote “her claim is valid.”