talesforsluts:[A picture submission from bertsinger] “Seven… hells…..” Some healer he’d

talesforsluts: [A picture submission from bertsinger] “Seven… hells…..” Some healer he’d been. Oh, they’d picked him up for a pittance of the reward money, he’d sworn he could heal injuries of any size, even bring them back from death if need be. Jena panted, pulling down her breeches with a shaking hand. It had all been fine, at first. He’d been ready enough with the potions and a wave of his staff after a fight. Wounds had sewn themselves together before her eyes as she gulped down each medicinal elixir, bones-uncracked, bruises fading. Only later had they first felt the heat. Subtle, at first, but growing with every wound repaired. He’d stuttered, made excuses. It was hard to find the right shrubs in this forest. He’d had to make substitutions. They’d worked, hadn’t they? Growling, Jena slipped her hand down to her slit, the twinge of pleasure failing to overcome her annoyance. She hadn’t been wearing her underclothes, of course. She’d been far too hot for that. The stares from her fellow party members as she’d marched through the forest, bare breasts obvious behind her chain shirt, hadn’t even been enough to wrap up again. Not that she’d been alone in that. Rosa might have had her long robes to rely on… but she’d been looking much… freer in them. Her finger pushed easily inside her, up to the knuckle, and a gasp escaped her like a sudden burst geyser. By all the gods, she needed this. The last few nights, Rosa’s tent had barely muffled the mage girl’s whimpers, but Jena had kept her resolve. Until now, anyway. When the bandit’s knife had run through her, she’d winced. Not from the pain, the shock had taken care of that for now, but the knowledge that this would mean an extra large dosage. Ripping her chain shirt over her head, it fell to the floor next to the uncorked, emptied potion bottle. She searched for where her wound had been, but there was only a soft, reddish patch to mark the place where she had been struck, and her hands swiftly moved up to toy with her breasts anyway. “Sune!” The mage’s voice cried out, heard even through her own tent walls. She’d often screamed her god’s name as she came, Jena worshiped no gods especially, but she wondered for a moment whether the goddess would accept the prayers of those overcome with lust. Falling to her knees, breeches still around her ankles, the defenseless warrior bit her lip in a vain attempt to be quieter than her compatriot. The bright moon shone a silhouette on the tent wall in front of her. The black rock rose ahead, jagged edges turning smooth as they resolved into the dark castle ahead. It didn’t matter, Jena told herself, her fingers teasing within her again. They’d still succeed in their quest, bad healer or no. Her eyes gleamed at the sight projected onto the tent. They’d reach that castle, climb that…. that tower…. that tall…. huge… thick…. When Rosa’s voice rang in the night air again, Jena’s joined it. There’s nothing I can add to that, except “WOW!” and maybe “Send pics and ideas to Luna.” Do it, you won’t be disappointed. -- source link
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