Duron Knot finished affixing the letter to the raven’s ankle before tossing the bird into the air. With a “caw” and a flurry of flapping wings the beast took flight, rising into the sky and heading south.
He stood on the lookout behind the top of the wooden palisade that hugged up against the inside of the giant fence that surrounded the Northern Outpost’s compound. As it was the northernmost of Vulfrellia’s outposts the Rangers stationed there had always just referred to is as the Northern Outpost, never bothering to give the small neglected base of operations a proper name.
The Vulfrellian Rangers manned outposts just like this all around the borders of the region, guarding against the monsters and bandits that inhabited the wilds beyond Vulfrellia. Most of the outposts were actually large keeps, stone castles that had stood for generations. The rangers that manned them earned glory and frequently went on to become members of the royal guard or prominent members of the Vulfrellian military.The Northern Outpost, however, was little more than a handful of simple wooden buildings that barely kept away the northern climate’s never ending cold.
The wooden palisade that surrounded it provided little more than a false sense of protection and the outpost always seemed undersupplied and forgotten about. And the Northern Outpost never seemed tohave enough Rangers manning it. Since Duron Knot was stationed there he never had more than a handful of companions. Most Rangers that found themselves stationed at the outpost quickly lost their enthusiasm to serve and retired young. He’d become commander of the outpost simply by having been at it longer than any other ranger unlucky enough to draw that assignment.
The letter attached to the raven’s leg was headed to the Ranger’s headquarters in the capital. It was his third note in a month begging for new Rangers and more supplies. Counting himself they were down to just four warriors. One of them, the outpost’s alchemist Joran Whent, was currently ill and bedridden. And since none of the other rangers stationed at the outpost had any training as a healer he had remained that way for some time, his health growing slowly worse.
While Duron did his best to care for Joran, the other two rangers were out on patrol spending time stalking the nearby snow covered forest in search of any threat that might be approaching the kingdom. Various monsters and occasionally bandits wandered the woods and needed to be cleared out regularly. It was a job that four Rangers had a hard time staying on top of all on their own.
While he thought about how much he wished he was out with his compatriots instead of stuck back at the outpost, he watched the raven flying into the distance. The bird was trained to follow the road that ran south from the outpost, which eventually led to the capital of Vulfrellia. The Northern Outpost lay at the end of this road, at a cross section of another infrequently used road that ran from east to west along the northern border of the kingdom.
As Duron watched the raven disappear over the horizon he saw something below. There on the road, just at the edge of where he could see, was a figure. He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the distant figure more clearly. As it neared he could tell that it was a single person riding a horse that was pulling a cart of some kind behind it.
His heart began to race. Could this be the healer he had been begging for? And with a fresh load of supplies?
As the figure drew steadily nearer they became clearer. Behind the horse was,as he hoped, a cart that seemed to be packed high with supplies. The banner of the Vulfrellian Rangers fluttered from the sides of the cart, all but confirming this was in fact the supplies he had been begging for. But even as the figure drew closer the rider was no easier to make out. They were covered in a white cloak that seemed to hide all of their features, a large hood tucked over their face. But white was a good sign, clerics and healers tended to wear white.
When the figure was nearly at the gate of the outpost Duron scrambled down from the palisade’s walkway. He was aware that his brown hair was a wild tangled mess and that his short beard was scruffy and unkempt. For a moment he thought about trying to straighten his appearance to make a better first impression, but decided against it. If this was a new Ranger and not just someone sent to heal Joran before leaving he’d want to make sure they got a proper impression of how rough life would be up here.
He opened the wooden doors into the outpost just as the cloaked figure rode up. Duron stepped back and allowing the mysterious figure to ride into the outpost with the supply laden cart behind them. “Greetings, stranger,” he began. “I am Duron Knot, commander of this outpost. Do you bring word from the capital? Are you here to simply resupply us or are you going to be joining my group?”
For a moment the figure was silent. It rode till the cart was pulled all the way into the outpost, and only then did it pull on the reins of the horse to make the beast halt. Once the horse was stopped the figure turned to Duron and lifted pale hands to the white hood hanging over its head, throwing it back to reveal a face.
Kind, soft, feminine features smiled down at him from atop the horse. The revealed woman looked young, although in a strange almost ethereal way that made her age impossible to judge. She looked both virginally young yet agedly mature at the same time. She had soft, pale skin that glowed almost like the snow in the midday sun. Bracketing her face was elegant, wavy black hair that seemed to glow with a faint-blue translucency.
“I am indeed here to join the forces at this outpost,” she said with a kind smile. Her voice was soft and unmistakably girlish, with just a hint of a giggle punctuating her statement. “I am Ilvuna Glask, cleric of the Vulfrellian Rangers. I have brought what should be a whole seasons worth of supplies as well as my own magical powers of healing. The High Commander of the Ranger’s wants you to know he has heard your pleas for help. He also sends word that more reinforcements will be coming in the following months, although who and when was not yet determined when I started my way north.”
She turned and hopped down from the horse, moving with smooth grace. Once she was on the ground she whipped her white cloak off, flinging it onto the back of her horse and leaving it behind.
Duron gasped slightly at the sight of the woman fully revealed before him in the most unusual garment he had ever seen. She was tall and built of what at first glanced looked like over exaggerated sensual curves. Her waist, although thick and plump, seemed thin when compared to the rest of her body. She had a thick, soft bottom half with wide hips and a large, plump ass. And hanging from her chest were the largest pair of breasts he had ever seen on a human female. Each one was nearly twice the size of the woman’s head. Not just large, but fat and wide, their mass looking both thick and full yet soft at the same time.
And Duron was able to see a startling amount of detail of the woman’s body. She wore a garment that was little more than a series of white cloth strips. A cloth band ran around her neck, meeting in the front at a large golden ring. Extending down from this was another strip that ran to similar ring just above her crotch. From there a third strap ran around her waist. Secured to the straps running around her waist was a small white cloth that barely covered her privates. And secured to the ring on the top of the garment where other strips that ran down her voluminous breasts with a sling like cloth between them, barely holding her breasts in place. They covered her nipples, but not her areolas, which were large enough to peak out enticingly from the edges of the cloth.
The only other clothing she wore besides her boots was a leather belt that clung tightly to her wide hips. A silver war hammer hung from one side while the rest of the belt was covered in pouches and vials filled with what he assumed were magical healing potions.
The woman before him showed no sign that she was even the slightest cold, yet the temperature at the outpost was far below freezing and fresh snow lay on the ground all around them. “Uh…. Aren’t you a little cold?” Duron asked, not sure what else to say about the woman’s scant and seemingly indecent outfit.
“Oh no,” she said with an amused giggle. “The blessing of my goddess keeps me warm and comfortable no matter what my surroundings are.”
“Ah,” he said, understanding. That’s how it was with clerics: their god’s gave them all sorts of gifts beyond the ability to heal others, many of the gifts unique to the particular god they worshiped and gave them powers. “And what god is it that you follow?” There were countless gods in the realm of Alaria and most of them were worshiped in Vulfrellia. The kingdom made few restrictions on religion, with only the worship of the most evil of gods being suppressed.
Ilvuna bowed her head and clasped her hands together as if in supplication. “I give all my faith to Ynara, goddess of breasts.”
The woman’s nearly lewd appearance made perfect sense to him now. The goddess of breasts had a strange reputation, her followers tending to be both extremely open with their sexuality whilst somehow remaining almost comically naive and innocent. Duron had never interacted with one in person, but he’d heard plenty of tales about the lewd ways the goddess’ followers preferred to pray to their goddess.
He’d been a Ranger since coming of age and had no time for sexual adventurism in his life. He was no virgin, but he’d only had sex a handful of times, and those before he joined the Rangers. Life was so hard at the outpost that he rarely thought about his body’s sexual desires, and the only other woman that was stationed here remained so covered in layers of leather armor, cloaks, and fursthat he frequently forgot she was, in fact, a woman.
While staring at the practically naked cleric before him he suddenly remembered what sexual attraction was and couldn’t ignore the fact that after a long absence his body wasstill able to feel immense sexual attraction. He felt his manhood swelling, growing hard as he stared at the cleric’s overlarge breasts. Almost more arousing was the fact that the bulge of her womanhood was barely covered by the small white cloth. Enough of her body was revealed to show that Ilvuna had no pubic hair, something Duron found strange and sexual enticing and that made his manhood grow even harder as he stood staring at her.
The cleric noticed the sudden bulge in Duron’s pants and turned from him, staring down at the ground. Her cheeks then flushed and she began to talk nervously. “I was always, uh…. Well endowed. Men were always looking at me the way you are. When I became a woman the goddess appeared to me and told me how much my breasts pleased her. She showed me the ways to pray to her and filled me with her holy light. And once her blessing was upon me my breasts grew even larger, a sign that she watches over me directly.”
She looked up then, making eye contact with Duron as all of the embarrassed nervousness melted away from her expression, replaced with fierce determination. “I wanted to do good in the world, so I used her blessing to become a cleric, healing those that needed it. And I joined the Rangers because I know that Vulfrellia is worthy of protecting. It might not look like it but I can hold my own in a fight. And before you ask, I wear no armor because I do not need it: Ynara protects me, and I wish the world to see the faith I have put in that protection.”
Duron nodded, ashamed momentarily that he had been so lewdly staring at the woman’s body. Of course she was a skilled fighter, she wouldn’t have been allowed to remain a Ranger if she hadn’t been. And there was no dress code within the organization, the Rangers were allowed to wear whatever they felt most comfortable in.
“Well, Ilvuna Glask, cleric of the Vulfrellian Rangers, it is good to have you join my forces. Let us unpack the supplies you have brought then I shall bring you to see Joran When, our alchemist. He’s the man who has fallen sick that you have been sent to heal.”
* * *
“How long has he been like this?” Ilvuna asked Duron. The stood inside one of the outpost’s smaller wooden buildings, the room full of roughly crafted beds and tables. There were no windows in the room, which was lit by the flicker of a number of candles on tables and walls around them as well as a large fire that burned intensely in a fireplace, doing its best to warm the cold dwelling.
The man lying before them was heavy-set and young, looking barely old enough to be a Ranger. He was dressed in a simple white tunic, covered in thick fur blankets. His pudgy face was sickly pale, his skin looking cold with a sickly gray-blue hue to it. He lay perfectly still, looking more like a corpse than a living man.
“Weeks now,” Duron said. “He went out to collect ingredients for his potions and came back feeling weak. Within hours his skin had grown cold and gray, and by the evening he fell into a deep sleep from which we were unable to wake him. None of us know anything about healing and have no idea what this sickness is that’s come over him, although it seems not to be contagious. We’ve tried to keep him warm and have forced soup down his throat, but he’s steadily gotten worse.”
Ilvuna ran a hand through the youth’s dark hair then felt his forehead with the back of her hand. For a time she held her hand on his head, her eyes closed. As she opened her eyes and pulled away from him she turned to Duron and asked, “Do you still have the ingredients he brought back with him?”
“I think so. We never emptied out his alchemist’s satchel when he returned; it should still be right where he left it.” Duron turned and walked across the small room, quickly locating a leather satchel sitting on a nearby wooden table. “Here it is.”
He reached to pick it up but Ilvuna raised her hands and yelled for him to stop. “Don’t touch it! Allow me, my magics protect me from most diseases and I suspect the sickness on him was gained from something he collected. Tell me, is he a very experienced alchemist?”
“Not really,” Duron said with an unenthusiastic shrug. “And what little he knew was about plants and herbs that grow closer to the capital where he grew up. He could make good potions from ingredients that come up from the south, but he had little experience with the things that grow in this climate. Mostly he spent his time experimenting with what he could find.”
As he spoke Ilvuna carefully opened the satchel and tipped it upside down, spilling its contents onto the table. A jumble of moss and mushrooms came tumbling out. “Just as I thought,” she said, pointing at the mushrooms on the table. They were thin and tall, their pointed tips narrow and light blue in color. “Those are Ice Mushrooms. They are rare, only growing in very cold climates. They are deadly to the touch and are frequently used as a poison.”
“Oh,” Duron said dumbly. “They grow all over up here, in caves and around the edges of rocky outcroppings deep in the woods. I didn’t know they were so… deadly.”
“Well, now you do,” Ilvuna said. She held her hands above the mushrooms, palms flat and fingers spread out. Her hands began to glow with red energy that radiated an intense magical heat that Duron could feel from across the room. The glow brightened and spread to the mushrooms which began to spark with intense burst of the same red energy. Then, with a sudden flash, the mushrooms were gone. Red smoke billowed up form where they sat for a moment, then dissipated into nothingness. “There, now they can’t harm anyone else.”
“Very good,” Duron said, glad the threat he had not known lurked in his outpost was gone.“But what about Joran? Do you think you can heal him?”
“Oh yes,” the cleric said, turning back to face the sick youth. “But the healing spell will take me a little bit. And the sickness is rather advanced, it will drain me. I’ll need help recharging the faith that fuels my powers afterwards.” She looked at Duron, her gaze momentarily intense and thoughtful. “Are you willing to help with that?”
“Of course,” he said quickly. “I’d do anything to save Joran. He’s a good man. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“First thing is a chair. It will take some time to work my healing energies into him, and it will be easier if I sit while that is happening.” Duron quickly grabbed a wooden chair from a nearby table and brought it to Ilvuna as she stood beside Joran’s bed. She nodded her thanks and pulled it close to the bed, sitting down beside him.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No,” Ilvuna said, pulling the blankets back from the sick man. “But you should stay and watch. And like I said, I will need help recharging my powers when I am done.”
“Sure,” Duron said, not quite sure how he could help her do that. He didn’t worship Ynara. He didn’t worship ANY god. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in them, there was evidence of the gods’ existence all around Alaria. It was rather that no particular god had ever seemed to speak to him directly, giving him reason to devote himself to their worship.
While he thought about this Ilvuna was busy preparing for her healing spell. She had pulled the blankets all the way down to Joran’s feet, leaving most of his body uncovered. He wore only a white cloth tunic with no pants or undergarment on. To Duron’s great surprise Ilvuna pulled the tunic up, revealing the sick man’s privates. A moment later she pulled the article of clothing all the way off of him, leaving him naked.
“Uh… do you really need to do that?”
Ilvuna shushed him. “Please, just be quite and watch, I need to concentrate,” she said without turning to face him. Properly scolded, Duron took a step back and pulled up a chair of his own, quietly sitting down and watching the cleric begin to heal his sick compatriot.
She began to hum softly, the sound lyrical and growing to fill the small room they were in. Meanwhile she grabbed the sling like cloths holding her massive breasts in place and pulled them to the side, allowing her breasts to spill free.
Duron’s eyes practically popped out of his head at the sight of them bore in all their glory: they looked even larger and softer without the dainty cloth keeping them in check. Her fat, wide tit-flesh practically oozed down the front of her body, her massive breasts hanging heavily from her chest. He felt himself growing hard once again staring at her breasts, imagining what it would be like to place his hand on them and have it sink into her fleshy softness. He wasn’t even sure what he would do with breasts so large. Their size was simply so overwhelming that he was only able to feel animal attraction with little thought going into it beyond the desire to touch them.
And her nipples, like none he had ever seen! The nubs were large and swollen from the cool air around them. They were like two pink fleshy fruits, each larger than the end of his thumb. And her areolas, dark pink against her pale flesh, were monstrously large. He estimated each was the size of the palm of his hand. And as he stared at themhe noticed that their flesh was pebbled and harden in the cold air as well.
He was overcome with the desire to rise from his chair and stumble forward. To kneel down before this woman and begin licking her large nipples. To take the hard nub in his mouth and suck on it as if it was a rare, exotic fruit. He began to shift uncomfortably in his chair, his erection painfully hard as the desires flowed through his mind.
What the hell is wrong with me, he thought as he shook his head and forced himself to look away from her breasts. This is a Ranger under my command! I can’t be having such thoughts about her… even if she seems to be acting in such an indecent manner.
The seeming indecency had only just begun. With her breasts now hanging free Ilvuna leaned forward over Joran, lowering her torso down and placing her breasts on his naked body. One of her large breasts rested on the man’s unconscious face, the other on his bare chest. Duron looked at her humongous breasts, their soft, warm flesh spread out on Joran’s cold naked body, and thought that they each looked like great fleshy pancakes resting on his friend.
She placed each of her hands on top of her breasts and began kneading their ample flesh against Joran’s body, continuing to hum as she did. A faint, barely perceptible glow began to appear around her body, shifting a moment later and only coming from breasts. The glow seemed to spread down onto Joran and move outacross his body, then fade away. A moment later the pale, gray-blue color to his flesh began to fade slightly. For the first time since falling ill Joran began to move, shifting slightly from side to side and moaning loudly, although the sound was muffled by the great big breast resting on his face.
Ilvuna stopped massaging his body with her breasts. She slid one hand under Joran’s head, lifting his face up into her breast and humming down at him. She slid her other hand down the man’s fat stomach, sliding her fingers through the wiry dark hair running from his belly button down to his privates.
As her fingertips neared his cock it began to swell and grow hard, the color almost completely returning to his fleshy shaft of manhood. She wrapped her fingers around it, squeezing him tightly in a steady pulsing pattern. He moaned once more, his hips thrusting up slightly in response to her touch.
She gave his shaft another firm squeeze then let go, lifting her hand to her face and spitting into her palm. A moment later her hand was back on his cock, but now with the added lubrication she began stroking him. With slow, steady motions she worked his body, jerking him off.
Duron shifted uncomfortably in his chair, once more aware of the fact that he had a painfully hard erection. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could see Joran’s body regaining its color he might have demanded Ilvuna stop this perverse ritual. But there was no denying the cleric was healing the Ranger, even if her methods were unconventionally and apparently required her to give the young man a hand job.
Before long Joran’s body was nearly back to normal color. Ilvuna gave his cock a few more quick jerks then pulled down on his cock, making it stand tall with his foreskin pulled all the way back. Duron watched as the alchemist’s cockhead began to trickle cum, thick white fluid that oozed up from his cock head and began running down his shaft onto the cleric’s hand. The man let out a long, deep, satisfied sigh into Ilvuna’s breast as the last of the color returned to his body.
Ilvuna let go of Joran’s cock just as it began to grow soft. She sat up straight, lifting her breasts off his body, and pulled the blankets back over him. Duron could see that the man looked perfectly healthy once again and that he had a wide grin on his sleeping face.
“He’ll sleep through the night,” Ilvuna said, turning to Duron, “and when he wakes in the morning he’ll be back to normal.” She gave him a kind, but faltering, smile. She looked suddenly drained, weak and tired.
“Are you okay?” Duron said, leaping to his feet and moving quickly across the room to comfort her as she sat back in the chair. He stood next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You look so weak!”
“Yes,” she said with an exhausted sigh. “It was not an easy disease to cure after it had advanced so far, and I am now drained of most of my holy energy. But thankfully you are here to help me.” She looked up at him and smiled weakly again.“I’ll need to pray to my goddess, and I need a man to do it properly.”
“I don’t understand,” Duron said, looking down at her. He was having a hard time not glancing at her breasts, which still hung exposed down her front. He broke down and took a quick look at them.The sight of them so close to his body made him aware of the fact he was still painfully hard. Suddenly he realized that he was standing with his crotch in the cleric’s face, the visible bulge of his erection mere inches from her the tip of her nose.
He gasped and started to take a step back, his face flush red with embarrassment, but Ilvuna stopped him. She wrapped one hand around his waist, preventing him from backing away. With the other hand she reached up and grabbed his cock though his pants. “Please,” she said, her voice shaky and weak. “Help me worship my goddess. Besides, I know how my magic affections men nearby. You must be painfully hard and in desperate need of release.”
“I… I don’t understand,” Duron mumbled, shaking. Her hand on his cock, even felt through his pants, felt so good. His cock was so hard and he felt with desperate certainty that his erection would not cease till he ejaculated. But he didn’t understand what the cleric was suggesting, and he told her so. “I don’t understand,” he said again, stopping to moan as she squeezed and rubbed at his cock through his pants. “How do we worship your goddess?”
She turned in her chair so that she was facing him. “It’s easy. Ynara is the goddess of breasts. She blesses those who have naturally big breasts, and blesses those who have small breasts with larger ones. She does this because sexual intercourse that involves breasts pleases her most, and she prefers her followers to worship her through mammary intercourse.”
As she spoke she undid the front of his pants, opening them and pulling his cock out. Duran hissed with pleasure when he felt her wrap her fingers around his hard cock. Her hands were cold, making her touch stand out even more against the burning hot flesh of his manhood. She gave it a firm squeeze while she spoke, holding it lovingly and then pointing it at her breasts.
Ilvuna then moved to the edge of her chair so her breasts were practically pressed against Duron, rubbing his cock against her tits. They felt both softer than he had imagined, yet firmer and thicker at the same time. He stared down, moaning in pleasure from both the sight and feel of his steel hard cock being rubbing into her fat, overlarge breast. He could feel thick, slimy precum leaking from his cockhead, making the movement of his cock silky smooth as Ilvuna dragged it back and forth on her breast.
“I’ve… never…” he began saying, before moaning and leaning his head back in pleasure.
“Don’t worry,” the cleric said, “I have enough experience for the both of us. Just stand there and let me do all the work. I only ask that as you feel the pleasure of our coupling you not thank me for it, but Ynara. Think of her in your mind and if you can, speak her praise out loud.
While still rubbing his cock on her breast she reached down with her other hand to retrieve a vial from her belt. As she lifted it up she popped the hinged top off the glass vial and pulled Duron’s cock away from her breast, pointing it up into the air. She tipped the bottle over, pouring a small amount of lotion onto the head of his cock. For a moment she allowed it flow over his swollen cock head and run down his shaft then she moved the hand on his shaft up and began spreading the lubricating lotion up and down his shaft.
Duron moaned in pleasure as she did this, barely noticing the way she skillfully closed the vial and quickly returned it to her belt with one hand. A moment later she had placed his cock in between her breasts, resting the underside of his shaft against her chest. She then let go of his dick and grabbed hold of her tits, lifting them up slightly and pressing them in around his cock.
Staring down Duron watched as her voluminous, soft tit flesh enveloped his cock and swallowed it whole, leaving no sight of his manhood behind. Her breasts were incredibly warm, as if the chill in the room was unable to affect them. Their soft warmness felt incredible wrapped around his rigid hardness, and the pleasure only grew more intense as she began to bounce her breasts up and down around his shaft.
“Oh, gods…” he moaned, amazed at how good it felt.
“Goddess,” Ilvuna corrected him, pressing her breasts in tighter around his cock and bouncing them up and down even faster.
“Yes,” he moaned, his head falling back again and his eyes rolling up into his head. “Yes, goddess… your tits, so big, so amazing… I never knew.”
“Thank her,” she said to him, continuing to work his cock with her tits. “Praise the goddess, praise Ynara.”
“Yes, I praise her! Anything, just don’t stop. I give her my praise, I worship her!”
“Yes, praise her,” Ilvuna said, her voice suddenly sounding far less weak. “Praise be to Ynara, goddess of the fat tits and bringer of all mammary pleasure,” she said with a voice that was slowly growing more steady with each word she spoke of her prayer to her goddess. “May she bless this coupling, may it please her and our faith manifest in our sexual pleasure flow into her divine being. May this please her, and allow our worship to continue…”
(The next installment can be found HERE)