Tag: kerryn

#Lore24 – Entry #315 – Fantasy Month IV #10 – Nights of Torment

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

My wish that Lady Armenia would see fit to grant me a proper release that night was not to be.  Following our dinner with Commander Asselin, she had indeed brought me to her room, bidding me to strip down to my “armor”.  Hopeful, I eagerly complied, noting the recent addition of several iron rings set into the wooden framing of the room.  It would not take her long to make use of these, for I was soon spreadeagled in the center of the room, my wrist and ankle cuffs secured with ropes to the rings, my eyes covered by a leather mask, and a ball gag harness secured about my head. 

She removed the chastity gear then, though the infernal cage around my cock still remained, leaving my chest free for her to grope, which she most eagerly did, tugging at my nipple rings several times while she teased and squeezed my testes, which felt swollen with my pent-up frustrations, making the cage feel all the tighter.  Once I was even more worked up than I somehow was already, she began something new, moving more to the painful practices her religion is more known for.  She swiftly bound my breasts with rough twine, causing them to swell rather painfully in a matter of minutes, then began adding weight to the nipple rings to add a constant, somewhat painful pressure.  She likewise bound my new anatomy with small leather thongs, stretching the testes rather painfully before she added weights to those as well.

My torment was far from over, for everything that remained continued vibrating, keeping me at consistent edge of climax, my cock dripping constantly.  It was then that she began using a flogger upon me, the sting of the knotted leather thongs making me yelp and struggle against the ropes, causing the hanging weights to swing and bounce, increasing my torment drastically.  Each strike was as if several bees had stung me, the worst of the pain fading quickly to leave my skin tingling and hot, the sensations repeated over most of my body. 

At long last, when Lady Armenia removed the plug in my rear, I had hoped it was finally time for my reward.  I could hear her doing something behind me, then her hands were upon my tingling rear, spreading something cool around my anus.  Then I felt the head of a dildo pressing against it, and within moments it slid inside me.  I moaned quite loudly, and most lewdly, as it stretched me and pushed deeper and deeper.  When I felt the base of the dildo press against my cheeks, felt her hips brush mine, I squirmed eagerly.  Then she pulled backward, then pushed forward, building up to a steady thrusting of her hips as she fucked me with the dildo, her own heated moans joining my own as her claws dug into the flesh of my hips.  The cage around my cock had grown so painfully tight, a constant stream of fluid dripping from it as I continued to hit that wall that separated me from my desired pleasure.  Lady Armenia slowed her pace, giving me a few moments for the fires of lust to die down, then picked up again.

I know not how long she worked the dildo in and out of my ass, but never once did she let me climax.  Nor, notably, did she climax.  Though her cries of pleasure were quite loud, and she worked her thrusts quite forcefully, she never reached climax either.  With a final cry that sounded more frustrated than pleased, she pulled out of me, whispering that I had done well, that Yurisaya was quite pleased with our performance, and that she would free me to rest soon.  In somewhat shocked disbelief, I hung there limply, whimpering and pleading around the ball that filled my mouth for that sweet release that I had so desperately craved. 

It was not to be, for once Lady Armenia had tended to herself, she undid the various objects of torment that had remained attached to me before she replaced the butt plug and then my “armor”, which felt even tighter than ever.  At long last she unbound me, holding me too her for a time, my head against her chest, as I cried in frustration.  Once the weakness had passed, she kissed my forehead, promising that the time would come soon, before she sent me off to bed.

The following three nights were much the same, to my great frustration.  Lots of build-up, hoping against hope that I would be allowed to climax, and finding denial each and every time.  Yet, for whatever reason that she did not divulge to me, Lady Armenia never climaxed either.  I could tell she was just as aroused as I was, perhaps more so, but she never gave in, never allowed herself to succumb to the pleasure. 

Yurisaya’s ways are indeed strange.

The following mornings were perhaps worse in some ways, for not only did I wake from fitful slumber as horny as ever, cursing the chastity gear that I could not remove, I had to deal with Aishi’s smug, knowing grin when we would have breakfast with the commander, her subtle teases, little flicks of her tongue or motions with her hands to intimate carnal acts.  I am loathe to admit it, but I found myself very much considering taking her up on her offer of aid, whatever I would have to do to obtain it. 

Thankfully the Heroes of Vindinium finally returned around noon on the fourth day, and I would have something else to distract myself with.

#Lore24 – Entry #314 – Fantasy Month IV #9 – A Private Encounter with the Stellae Illustris

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Lady Armenia had decided to rest for the rest of the day and bid me to explore about the fort and village if I wished; she wouldn’t have need of me until that night.  The constant stimulation and edging of the devices I’d been dealing with for days now had my focus severely impeded, so I decided that a walk would not be amiss, though that came with its own challenges thanks to the random nature of the vibrations that came from them. 

I took in the lay of the redoubt first, spoke with a few of the workers who were tasked with restoring the fort to proper form.  From what I’d learned, it was at least a couple centuries since it was last used, and had been remarkably well maintained all things considered, though I saw large sections of the walls that had been recently rebuilt, along with many sections of the inner structures.  New additions had been made, specifically an additional watch tower and the aforementioned gate leading up the road to the fort, with another two planned. 

Then I ventured down into Vindinium to see what facilities were available and learn what I could of the nature of the adventurers who I would be working with, and to get the lay of the town and a feel for its people.  For the most part, those I spoke to seemed rather favorable to the coming of the Imperial garrison, for the area had grown much less stable over the last few years, with raids from the tribal orcs, kobolds, and other non-human races becoming all too frequent.  For a time, trade caravans had come from the elvish lands further to the southwest, but those had mostly stopped now due to the banditry that plagued the road deeper into the Wildlands; there was a whole town, Duskgulch, a few days on that seemed overrun with thieves and criminals of all sorts, they told me, though for now I couldn’t tell if that was just the nature of villagers to be overly proud of their own town or not.

Regardless, there had been several groups of adventurers to have come through in the wake of the Imperial Legion’s reclaiming of the fort, for Commander Asselin had made the call specifically to lure them in with the promise of great wealth should they help them restore order to the area.  A shrewd decision, given the lack of manpower he’d originally been given.  All told, he had perhaps a hundred men, though perhaps only half of those were soldiers, the rest support staff and builders.  The Emperor certainly wasn’t making the task too easy for him.  Some adventurers hadn’t been seen since they had set off weeks ago, their fates unknown for the moment, while others, specifically the “Heroes of Vindinium” as they had been named, seemed well-liked.  They weren’t particularly disruptive, had brought in a few shipments of stolen goods back to the town, and additional wealth taken from a few bandit groups they’d encountered.  Plus they had cleared out some nearby tribals and monstrous creatures that had plagued the village, and had even helped construct the new palisade. 

I sampled some of the local liquor and some pastries while I was in town, not enough to spoil the coming dinner later that night and introduced myself to most of the merchants in town as I perused their wares.  Somehow, I managed to keep from embarrassing myself with a random, useless attempt to grope my breasts or adjust my “manhood”, which I might note, felt extremely confined and very uncomfortable in its unceasing attempts to remain erect, to say nothing of the plug that filled my rear.  I almost wished these devices were of a mundane, unmagical sort so that they would have to be removed regularly.

As evening approached, the shadows growing long, I returned to the fort and to my quarters, a small room near to Lady Armenia’s where my scant few possessions had been placed.  However, before I could enter, I saw Aishi approaching me with the most smug look upon her face, her eyes not glowing quite so brilliantly as they had upon our first meeting.  Though I briefly hoped she was headed elsewhere, she reached my door first and waited for me, bidding me to enter so that we could speak privately.

Already nervous around her, for even though she was a kerryn, she was also in direct service to the Emperor, this very nearly sent me into a panic right there.  Somehow, I maintained my composure, though, and invited her inside.  I let her move past me and closed the door, and the moment I turned to face her, she pushed me up against it, purring in a predatory way, her nose twitching as she took in my scent.  Her gauntleted hands went to my chest, her fingers tapping knowingly against the mythril that kept my anatomy shielded, while one knee came up between my legs and rested directly against my entrapped anatomy.  My piercings and anal plug began to vibrate at that moment, most powerfully, making me squirm even more vigorously in her grasp, hear keen ears no doubt hearing everything.

I won’t repeat everything she said to me here, for it was quite lewd and embarrassing, and hardly accurate to my true nature, though my constant state of arousal and inability to find relief had certainly done little to prove anything to the contrary.  She had known the moment she had first laid eyes upon me that I was quite well entrapped by Lady Armenia, had spotted the arcane signatures of not only my chastity gear, but of the transformation spell she had performed upon me, though she admitted it only took a keep enough nose to pick up on most of that.  I smelled “like a randy whore” she had said at one point. 

Aishi had pressed herself against me then, replacing her knee with a strong hand, while her tongue licked at my cheeks, her lips finding mine.  My brain told me to protest such treatment and resist her, but I did no such thing, and in fact did quite the opposite, leaning into her and eagerly engaging the intimate contact to the limit of my ability, driven so close to a climax by my gear that I felt near completely defeated when they stopped, leaving me on the edge of that precipice.  Aishi seemed to enjoy my desperation as she pulled away.  She told me that she could help with my predicament if I but begged her to do so.  I was too flustered to reply in the moment, but she excused herself, delivering a sharp slap to my ass before she left, telling me to remember her when I had reached the end of my endurance and just had to sate the fire inside me.

For once I found myself hoping that tonight would be the night that Lady Armenia would give me what I so desperately needed, simply so that I would not be driven to even consider Aishi’s offer. 

#Lore24 – Entry #313 – Fantasy Month IV #8 – A Village and a Fort, a Commander and a Shadow

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I was expecting to be dressed once more into the hobbling dress the following morning, but instead I was allowed back into the riding dress; Lady Armenia said that we would be leaving the Imperial border once we were into the mountains, and even she wouldn’t take a chance on leaving me defenseless through potentially hostile terrain.  In fact, she even returned my scimitar and bookish bulwark, even had me make sure that my new “armor” wasn’t a hindrance after breakfast.  Aside from some rather unwelcome pressure and pinching between my legs for what must be quite obvious reasons now, I was quite capable of going through my practice routines.

Of course, that didn’t stop her from continuing my “training” along the way.  She was assured we would have ample warning in case of an attack, for her drakonae scouts were unrivaled guardians, so she told me.  Travel was slow once we had entered the mountains, the road recently shored up to some extent, but still rough and windy.  So, it was practicing some things that did not involve improving my ability to take large phallic objects into my throat, including more worship of her feet and more endless edging in my case, while practicing various new positions in which I found myself restrained.  I was rather impressed by the number of anchor points hidden away behind the panel work of the carriage, and the variety of restraints Lady Armenia had packed for the journey.

Further oral practice with the dildo would wait until we made camp that evening, in the privacy of her tent.  I was quite a horny mess by then, and would remain so for the foreseeable future, as she seemed to have no intention of allowing me to remove my chastity gear, nor the plug in my rear, the enchantments upon the items seeing to it that my bodily functions were taken care of.  She had promised a surprise if I performed my oral exercise satisfactorily the first night, and indeed, after some time with my lips and tongue working the dildo as she held it between her legs, I experienced a most intense ejaculation of salty, white fluid from the device, nearly choking me and then spraying upon my face.  The flavor was most familiar, being the same mixture that was produced by the feeder gag, though never before had I experienced it in such volume nor in such an embarrassing manner.

I daresay the journey through the mountains was rather mundane compared to the first couple of nights, but with good reason.  We were indeed attacked in the mountains no less than three times, once by a rather large group of bandits who appeared quite desperate, and then again by two separate orc tribes.  In each case, our injuries were relatively minor, and I did not become engaged in the combat, as I was officially on guard duty for the Lady Armenia.  Though having seen the soldiers and drakonae in action, I daresay I would have made a poor final line of defense, not that a priestess such as herself couldn’t defend herself. 

After the long journey through the mountains, we descended into something of a large valley basin, and I could see the fort that was our destination from some distance away, standing high upon a rocky plateau, overlooking a village.  These were the Dawnsummit Redoubt and Vindinium, respectively, the Baydwell River running along out of the mountains near the village.  As we came to the village, I could see that it had recently been enhanced with a stout wooden palisade, complete with a quartet of small, recently built watch towers.  We followed the road through the village, the people there seeming to look upon us favorably as we passed.

Beyond the village, it was a short trip to the road leading up to the overlooking ridge and the redoubt, a series of spiked wooden barricades having been constructed to slow any advancing force, with an additional stone gatehouse currently under construction closer to the top of the plateau.  The roadway led right to the fort’s walls and gatehouse, both of which having been recently repaired to Imperial Legion standards and were even now being further reinforced by a mix of dwarven and drakonae craftsmen.  I counted what seemed a rather small amount of soldiers on patrol and guard about the fort and village, though, a curious detail.  I thought perhaps they had gathered inside the walls of the fort for some reason, but as the carriage passed through into the courtyard and grounds, I saw only a fraction of what I had expected. 

In short order, our large group had come to a stop and Lady Armenia and I left the carriage.  The commander of the soldiers sent to guard her was already barking orders to some of his men to see about reinforcing the current garrison troops, and a notable pair approached us from the direction of the commander’s quarters.  The garrison commander seemed familiar to me, walking with a pronounced limp and making use of a crutch, his left leg obviously having received a wound that had not properly healed.  He was an older human, dark hair graying from his temples, wearing a neatly trimmed beard with his hair cut short, still seeming to be in rather good shape overall aside from the leg.  He wore one of the Legion’s broadswords at his side, garbed in the tunic of a general.  He introduced himself as Lexaundre Asselin, and I certainly remembered the name then, for that name held only slightly less infamy than that of Res’Taringal for which the notable rebellion had been named.  He and his house had spoken in support of the Res’Taringals but had notably not committed any significant resources to the ill-fated operation, which is likely why he was alive now, and almost certainly why he had been sent into the Wildlands with such a small force with orders to tame it.

The second person to join us kept her distance, remaining back about ten feet from us, seemingly not interested in our discussions, though I doubted she was ignoring us.  It was a kerryn, golden hair loose about her shoulders, with red-tinged fur upon her ears and tail, brilliant blue-green eyes that faintly glowed, marking her clearly as a Stellae Illustris, even if the armor and cloak, bearing the red, black, and gold colors of the Emperor, and her collar stamped with the insignia of the order, had not marked her as such.  She was armed with a longer, narrower bladed sword than that of Asselin, which she kept one hand upon, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.  This was Aishi, as Asselin told us, his second shadow.  She offered us a smile then, playful, no, predatory, though she refused to bow as would other kerryn.  I had heard the Stella Illustris were quite proud of their positions, and would only bow to the Emperor himself, perhaps a handful of others, and seeing this behavior, perhaps that was indeed true.  She certainly came off as quite smug, the more I regarded her. 

Once our introductions were complete, Commander Asselin gave us the tour of Dawnsummit Redoubt, highlighting the impressive work they’d managed to complete so far in restoring the fort to its long-lost glory days, some centuries ago, and with such a small force.  Aishi remained behind us, but within a few strides should danger come, though I suspected her reason for being there was rather obvious, to ensure that Asselin did nothing to step out of line, to make sure that his support of the Emperor was genuine.  As I watched her out of the corner of my eye, I got the sense that she was quite dangerous, very much a great hunting cat stalking fresh pray as she tried to get a sense of what Lady Armenia and I were about.

Then we retired to the commander’s offices, where he showed us a map of the large region he had been tasked with civilizing, spread over the top of a table, the map itself a copy of one much older judging by the style of the drawings and relative newness of the parchment, lacking much in the way of details about the region besides major landmarks.  There were new additions however, drawn directly upon the map, showing several significant discoveries made by the adventurers who had come into the area seeking wealth and glory, including a few ruins and ancient ritual sites, lairs and territories of various hostile tribes of orcs, kobolds, gnolls, and even lizardmen in the area, and of course, the ruins that had recently been discovered marking what was thought to be an ancient temple of some sort, bearing draconic iconography.  With permission, I began making notes and copying the map for myself.

The adventurers had been gone for several days now but were expected to return within the week to resupply from their further attempts to secure the area around the ruins, and upon their return, we would have proper introductions, for I would be working closely with them going forward.  In the meantime, Dawnsummit and Vindinium were open to us.  There would be a feast later that night in honor of Lady Armenia, and she would retire to the quarters that had been prepared for her (and I, for now).  I would remain here, making my notes and studying the notes left by the adventurers, as well as the handful of artifacts they had recovered from the site.  I felt the eyes of Aishi lingering upon me for a few moments more as the others left, and I sensed that I would be having my own encounter with her before long.  There was something about her that made me nervous.

#Lore24 – Entry #312 – Fantasy Month IV #7 – Night at the Wayrest

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Though I felt great embarrassment at my bound, magically altered, and partially revealed state, none of the soldiers nor the drakonae seemed to think it odd in the slightest, which formed many questions in my mind that unfortunately I could not immediately ask thanks to the very filling penile gag.  I felt the distinct shift in the air the moment we crossed onto the land surrounding the Wayrest that evening, the sun already beginning to form long shadows on the land.  Once we had come to a stop before the inn, Lady Armenia was quick to make her exit, seemingly possessed of a great deal of pent-up energy.  This of course left me alone in the carriage, but it was not long before her drakonae came inside and unbound me from the bench, then packed me carefully to the ground outside.  One of them snatched the dangling leash and guided me toward the inn’s entrance, turning to glance at me with annoyance several times at the slowness of my pace, even tugged the leash more forcefully as if that would spur me to move quicker. 

I offer no apologies; I had been sitting for most of the day and was quite stiff, even without the ridiculously restrictive attire I had been forced to wear for Lady Armenia’s amusement.  I suppose only the enchantments upon the outfit had kept my limbs from going at all numb and from being terribly sore.  The gawking of the farmhands, likely the children of the inn’s owner, sent a fresh flush of embarrassment through me, no doubt having never seen something like me in their lives. 

At least the atmosphere on my awkward walk toward the inn was mostly pleasant otherwise, the inn and associated farm nestled amongst rolling hills and lightly packed forest, with a rocky stream coming in from the higher mountains further to the southwest that would prove our biggest challenge on the next leg of our journey.  The evening air was cool but pleasant on my exposed flesh, which made my mercilessly teased nipples remain quite erect.  My enjoyment of the scene was short lived, however, for I was brought inside as quickly as I could manage with my tiptoed steps.

Though the banter I heard between lady Armenia and the proprietor was rather jovial, when I came in, the plump human woman, streaks of gray in her hair, turned a disapproving scowl at me, her eyes immediately dropping to my newly formed and caged genitalia.  She shook her head, shooting a look at Lady Armenia, asking if I’d be attending dinner in such an indecent state.  With assurances that I would be properly presentable, Lady Armenia motioned the drakonae toward the stairs, much to my displeasure.  I overhead more consternation from the witch about what damage my appearance could possibly have done to the “young and innocent minds” of her sons, but lost track of the rest of that conversation when it came time to navigate the stairs.  I had hardly mastered this most awkward technique, and the drakonae holding my leash was not as forgiving as Lady Armenia, tugging at it insistently while moving behind me to swat my behind with his bare hand when I failed to move fast enough.

I had earned nearly a dozen such swats by the time we topped the stairs, the flesh of my exposed behind reddened and stinging, for his strikes had grown more forceful the higher we went, and perhaps most annoyingly, my caged and restricted erection was straining against its prison most painfully now, my excitement having been rekindled by my treatment.  I hesitate to mention it, but I seem to be developing a fetish for being humiliated, yet I cannot deny what I have experienced, as much as I may wish to.

Topping the stairs, it was immediately apparent which room was Lady Armenia’s, for two of the drakonae stood guard on the door at the end of the hall, and it was this door I was ushered toward.  Once inside, though the room was undoubtedly the largest of the ones inside the inn, it seemed much smaller and less fine than befitting of someone of Lady Armenia’s stature.  I was taken to the bed and told to sit, which I did most gratefully, and waited with my leash tied to the bedpost, flexing my feet and listening to the sounds of the fine leather creaking over my body as I shifted about in the quiet.  I noted that Lady Armenia’s chests had already been brought up.

It was perhaps another thirty minutes before Lady Armenia came to the room, bringing with her the scent of cooking meat and fresh bread.  She sat beside me and fondled my breasts for a time, teasing my tormented cock with her tail, not saying a word at first.  Then, once she had had her fill, she stood and brought me to my feet, announcing that it was time to make me presentable for dinner with Melanis, the Witch of the Ways who owned the inn.  My accusatory look at the one responsible for my poor impression only garnered a smile and a look that could have passed for pure innocence had I not known better of Lady Armenia’s nature.  Perhaps it was for that reason she left my gag for last when my restrictive attire was finally removed, the cool air upon my sweaty skin quite refreshing.  I was allowed to wash up and fix my hair, though Lady Armenia insisted that I wear it up in a pair of tails instead of my usual braid, much to my annoyance.

As I would soon learn, my annoyance was only just beginning; this would become a common theme with Lady Armenia.  While I had cleaned up, she had already picked out my eveningwear, and when I turned from the mirror to see it laid out upon the bed, I gulped and shrank away.  She looked every bit the grinning devil her heritage would indicate as she watched my reaction.  “A warrior mage such as yourself needs armor, yes?  If I am not mistaken, you favor a highly mobile style, dancing about your enemies?  Don’t worry, this is quite light weight, I assure you; it’s made of the same mythril as your cage, after all, and enchanted to ensure that you are protected.  I promise it won’t stay on…forever.  This should ensure our hostess that you have no intentions whatsoever on her sons.  Don’t dawdle, my dear, Melanis won’t be pleased if we are late for dinner.”

A finely crafted set of full chastity gear lay before me upon the bed, my arcane sight revealing that it was indeed strongly enchanted, but with more than simple protection.  I had witnessed several Yurisayan priests and priestesses wearing such things, not uncommon in their order, but never thought I’d be wearing one.  All of the pieces were lined in leather and inscribed with intricate patterns of thorny vines, mixed with arcane runes, and the belt was curiously crafted with male anatomy in mind; how long had she been planning this, or did her order have such things ready and waiting? 

“Oh, there is another item before we get you dressed, a little preparation for what comes later on, and something to keep you entertained.”  She beckoned me toward her with one clawed finger.  Sighing, I approached and followed her lead when she bent me over before the bed.  She caressed my backside for a moment, told me to spread my legs and relax.  I had my suspicions of what she had in mind, recalling some of my more debaucherous nights during my tenure as Alekos’s tutor, and breathed out slowly.  Sure enough, I felt the rounded head of the butt plug pressing against my anus, felt the cool lubricant spread from the enchanted device, and allowed her to push it inside me, wincing momentarily as the widened base, feeling quite huge, pushed inside me.  She tapped the base of the plug, and I felt it grow ever-so-slightly larger, grunting as it did.  Worse, I felt it vibrate, slowly, then strongly, for only a few seconds, then stop. 

My “armor” went on next, beginning with the chastity belt portion first of course.  The enchanted mythril resized to a perfect, snug fit, the larger, bulging cover for my cock reshaping itself perfectly around the cage as it was latched and magically sealed around my waist.  The chest piece came next, the formed cups fitting tightly around my breasts, seeming to grab hold of my nipple piercings in some way on the inside that ensured I would feel them with every move I made, a pair of delicate but strong mythril chains going over my shoulders, crossing behind my back for additional support.  Pairs of cuffs went around my biceps and wrists next, followed by thicker bands around my thighs, which were joined to the waist belt via more chains, magically connecting together once they were in place to ensure I couldn’t spread my legs very wide at all.  The final pieces, a pair of ankle cuffs, were soon in place as well, leaving my whole body glowing with shame, my mind already furiously coming up with ways in which the attire could be used to torment me.

I could already feel my discomfort and arousal growing as I shifted and tested my movement; though the weight of the gear was barely noticeable, the way the items hugged my body and applied pressure in the worst places most certainly was.  Somehow, the cage around my cock felt even more constricted now, and I was already dripping.  My nipples were aching, constantly rubbing against the inside of the mythril cups in an unrelenting tease.  Lady Armenia watched my squirming about with great amusement for a time, but brought us back to the moment, handing me a pair of thigh-length leggings and leather riding boots, which were more easily donned than I had suspected given the helpful nature of the enchantments upon my new “armor”, which more or less magically applied the garments once I had started putting them on, nestling them beneath the cuffs.  Atop all of my gear went a more sensible riding dress in shades of brown and green, its long sleeves covering my arms completely, the skirt hanging to my ankles, leaving only my collar visible.  Indeed, it should more than adequately satisfy the apparent “decency” requirement from the mistress of the house.

Properly attired now, my face no doubt revealing my embarrassment, though thankfully the mythril was light enough that I could barely hear the chains and chastity gear clinking beneath the dress, we ventured downstairs.  It only took a few moments before the new plug in my rear began to vibrate, setting off both my nipple rings and cock cage, making my steps falter, and I would come to learn that this would be a constant, unrelenting force, activating randomly, and with random levels of intensity, throughout dinner and beyond. 

Melanis still seemed to wear a look of disapproval when she looked at me, but at least she wasn’t particularly cold to me otherwise.  The common room was filled with Lady Armenia’s entourage and a mix of the soldiers, some having remained on guard duty for now in spite of the safety offered by the inn, as well as the drakonae as well as the owner’s family, those who had saw me earlier seeming quite disappointed that I had covered myself so thoroughly.  Had it not been for all the awkward squirming and frequent distractions from the vibrating devices upon me that caused me to stutter or lose my train of thought, no doubt painting me as something of a dullard, dinner was mostly pleasant and, dare I say, normal. 

Lady Armenia would see to it that came to an end once we had retired for the evening, though.  I was stripped to my “armor” soon after we had returned to the room, leaving only my stockings in place beneath my mythril gear, and she somehow commanded the piercings, cock cage, and butt plug to activate at a most intense setting.  She announced it was time for additional training, and soon produced a sizeable dildo, shaped to appear as a most convincing, larger than average penis.  She spread her robes as she sat upon the bed, revealing her admittedly impressive thighs, holding the phallus between her legs, and then commanded me to show her what I knew about pleasing men. 

I was somewhat ashamed to admit that I knew more having learned some things from Ryona using similar methods.  I did as instructed, though, using my mouth and tongue upon the device as my various vibrating devices kept me squirming and on edge.  Her hand soon went to the back of my head, forcing the dildo deeper.  This I hadn’t practiced much, so she made sure to move slowly from here, just a fraction deeper each thrust, stopping when I gagged or she sensed me tensing, promising all the while that I would be quite proficient at such things before I left her service.

Certainly not something to be particularly proud of, but I didn’t exactly protest her instructions, did I? 

Once Lady Armenia was satisfied that I had learned enough for the evening, she had me rise before she magically cleaned the dildo with a quick spell of cleaning, then replaced it amongst her things.  She blindfolded me then, and replaced the feeder gag harness atop it, the penis inside feeling larger than before as she tightened the straps.  I was guided to one side of the large bed, my ankle and wrist cuffs lashed to the footboard and headboard respectively, leaving me stretched out in only mild discomfort.  Bidding me to rest while I could, saying that she must pray and perform her nightly rituals, she tugged the deprivation hood over my head again, leaving me oblivious to the world beyond.  Only when she finally slipped into the bed beside me, cuddling up to me and wrapping her tail around my thigh did the vibrations cease, finally allowing me to sleep, though it would be some time yet before I settled down enough to do so.

#Lore24 – Entry #311 – Fantasy Month IV #6 – The Journey to the Wildlands

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I heard Lady Armenia rise early the next morning, for I was already awake, still squirming helplessly and uselessly attempting to sate the very intense and unrelenting desire within myself and my new member.  To put it quite bluntly, I was a sweating, quivering, moaning mess that morning, having had almost no sleep, my uselessly balled hands having spent much of the night in their vain quest to stimulate my caged penis into achieving some kind of release as it swelled and strained against the unrelenting mythril cage that held it entrapped.  The stiffness and tightness of my attire had done less than nothing to induce any feelings of relaxation as well, leaving me quite discomforted by morning.

I was left to stew for some time yet, until Lady Armenia had gotten herself dressed and prepared for the journey with the aid of one of her attendants, who, I am quite sure, was not subject to the same magical transformation as me, nor was she forced to wear such strict attire, just the common servants clothes.  Soon enough, however dazed I was, I was assisted to rise, and Lady Armenia once again took hold of my leash to lead me along, once my hands were properly restrained behind my back of course.  It was to the courtyard she led me, where her team of drakonae waited, each carrying backpacks fit for a long journey, and armed with recurve bows and short swords and hunting knives. 

Lady Armenia told me that the rest of her entourage awaited us in Scarbantia, and for a moment I was absolutely mollified, for it would take us at least two weeks of travel to reach the distant city by carriage, and perhaps another week or more to reach the edge of the Empire, depending on the exact region she intended to visit.  With my lack of sleep and constant horny distraction having addled my senses, I had failed to observe the presence of a teleportation circle, which I only noticed when the marker stones were activated and began glowing, filling the area with their magic aura. 

Indeed, once the party had appeared on the corresponding circle in Scarbantia, still in that most dark period before dawn this far west, I saw no less than three wagons and a carriage that would only have been Lady Armenia’s, as well as several mounted Imperial soldiers, at least two dozen from my count.  She immediately led me toward the waiting carriage, and with some help from her drakonae, I was loaded inside like so much baggage and maneuvered onto one of the bench seats, and then we were off at a brisk pace once Lady Armenia had settled herself.  Being the wife of General Komides, I suppose I should have suspected such a force to protect her.

Our journey would take us southwest, she told me, and we would visit the last Wayrest tonight before starting down the Malarshaw Road to the region that held the curious ruin she was so interested in, a trip that, with the numbers in our party, would take approximately eight days, not accounting for bad weather or other delays.  The look upon her face when she told me that we would be getting to know one another quite intimately during this period was absolutely devilish, and not merely because of her red skin, upward curving horns, and sharp teeth. 

As the formation settled into a proper travelling pace, Lady Armenia settled herself upon the bench next to me, easing me over to lean against her, and wrapped one arm around me, her hands once again exploring and teasing my breasts, giving special attention to my new rings, tugging and flipping them idly as we continued on.  Her tail, quite serpentine in its behavior, snaked around my waist and wrapped itself around the infernal cage and my quite sensitive new anatomy, the sharp tip poking through the mythril prison just hard enough to make me jump each time, while the wrapped tail squeezed and massaged.  Her lips found my ear, as did her tongue, and her teeth, for she nibbled and teased occasionally, all the while I whimpered, moaned, and pleaded through the phallic feeder gag for some kind of release.

Some time later, as the sun began to rise, Lady Armenia granted me a great mercy, finally bringing her teasing to an end, at least for the time being.  She continued to hold me close, her hands massaging soreness from my body as they explored it, and she told me to be at ease, to find peace in her embrace, and to rest.  I sensed her working the charm, but did not resist as the sleeping enchantment overtook me, falling into a deep and blissful slumber, in spite of the decidedly erotic dreams I would have.

I would not awaken until after noon that day, feeling refreshed if not any freer than I had been.  In fact, I was more restrained, having been secured into the seat by no less than six stout leather straps that I hadn’t realized were there.  As I stirred, Lady Armenia looked hungrily upon me from the opposite side of the carriage, making me squirm.  Though she was of high rank in society, she still wore the attire of a priestess, though in silks rather than more common materials, and her accessories were of gold and silver.  I squirmed, straining against the straps to no avail, as I tried to put distance between us.

She laughed then, a surprise to be sure, and returned to my side of the carriage, this time straddling my restrained form, pressing her knees against my hips and resting upon my legs.  She removed my gag before she started playing with my breasts again, hooking the claws of her thumbs into the nipple rings to tug or twist.  We spoke for some time as we continued along the road, mostly with her asking me questions about my time at the Library, and then focusing more upon my experiences with the lewd and erotic when my responses proved to be rather mundane.  She seemed rather pleased that I was so inexperienced in so much that she promised to show me in excruciating detail once we were safely to our destination, and some on the road beforehand.  Of our night at the Wayrest she seemed to be most excited, however she kept those details hidden at the time.

Perhaps it was the lingering, unending arousal I had experienced since my “recruitment” into her service that clouded my usually reasonable mind, or perhaps her mazoku nature had done so…or perhaps my inquisitive nature had evolved in the months I had spent tutoring her son and experiencing a rather abundant amount of pleasures at the hands of his kerryn slave Ryona, some at his behest, others all of her own devising.  Regardless of the cause, I found myself excited for these experiences, even though I had little choice in the matter.  Though…I had the sense that if I had been unwilling to participate in any of her games, Lady Armenia would not have forced me into anything I truly did not wish to participate in. 

She ended our question-and-answer time before I could ask her anything in return (I am beginning to think my Lady Armenia might just be a little unfair in her dealings…), deigning it time for my mouth to practice at something else that didn’t involve speech.  I was released from the bench and guided to the floor of the carriage, and this time, with her holding the leash, I was first to busy my tongue in cleaning her fine leather boots.  Fortunately for me, she had yet to exit the carriage on this day, so the leather was quite pristine, though certainly not my preferred flavor, even though it may have been Lady Armenia’s.  Following this, I had to undo the laces with my teeth before she removed her boots, thus allowing me to partake of her rather aromatic and sweaty, stocking-clad feet.  Translated, she held her feet before me and pulled my leash between them, forcing my face into them, where I was “allowed” to breathe of her essence for a time, before my tongue was once again “allowed” to explore them.

Throughout this worshipful ordeal, my nipple rings were constantly abuzz, as was the ring at the base of the cage surrounding my dribbling cock, which strained quite uncomfortably inside that unforgiving device.  I had sought to inquire with Lady Armenia about what I should do with the constantly leaking nature of my restricted asset, but she seemed not the least bit concerned by it, for her foot was soon teasing it again, only this time, after she had finally used both feet upon it, squeezing and teasing the swollen testes between her soles, she bade me clean them off.  I suppose that’s another entry on the list of things I had not expected to experience this week…

She seemed quite eager for more, but insisted she was restraining herself, saving herself, really, for tonight once we reached the Wayrest.  She replaced her boots upon her feet and decided that she too would nap, once more securing me to my place on the bench and replacing my feeder gag before she lay back on the other side of the carriage, but not before she gave me a long kiss upon my gag-covered lips.  She seemed rather restless for a time, her hands finding their way to her own breasts and between her legs, only for her to jerk them away suddenly, though she finally settled down into sleep.  A curious observation, though one that would make sense later…mostly.

At least the windows were open, allowing me to see the passing countryside as we rode onward.  It would have been a dreadfully boring time otherwise; thankfully the Wayrest was only another couple of hours away.

#Lore24 – Entry #308 – Fantasy Month IV #3 – A Slight Against a Priestess, Apparently

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As previously stated, I know not where I was taken, and by the time we arrived at our destination, I was a sweaty, sore mess inside the confines of the trunk.  I heard not a word of conversation that may have occurred around me, of course, thanks to the hood, and only my internal monologue and pained grunts and moans as the cart bounced along kept me company.  My attempts to surmise my captor had ended after perhaps an hour, for by then I had started to feel my discomfort most keenly in pretty much every part of my body due to the stress of my position and the hot confines of the trunk. 

Once the road upon which we traveled had smoothed out, things became somewhat more bearable, but only slightly, and when we stopped and I felt the chest being lifted, I knew that we had reached our destination at last.  At least, I had certainly wished it to be so; the thought of being transferred to another cart and driven off somewhere else in my state had filled me with dread at the time.  The drakonae carried me for perhaps a few minutes before the chest was placed rather roughly on the ground.  I could feel the rattle of the locks and latches being undone, and then the lid finally opened, a rush of thankfully much cooler air pouring over my hot, sweaty flesh, eliciting some rather relived sounds from my gagged lips.  Might I add that having worn the hood and gag for such an extended period, it had grown quite unpleasant due to my own drool?  The inside of the hood was absolutely soaked, as was my chin and neck where my drool had managed to find a way out.

Their strong, clawed hands lifted me out and set me on an even colder stone floor, and thankfully they released the strap holding me in the hogtie, allowing me some respite, though my joints and limbs were certainly still in some great discomfort.  I realized my relaxation upon the floor was not to last long, though, when I felt them attaching something to the shoulder straps of the armbinder harness.  A few moments later I felt the ratcheting action as chains hauled me upright, adding a new unpleasant element to my bondage.  Once I was fully upright and upon my feet, the chains continued upward a few more inches, leaving me dangling with only my toes able to touch the floor.

I was perhaps left alone for a time then; again, I could sense nothing of my surroundings thanks to the enchanted hood I had been forced into, only the occasional shift in the air flow over my body as I shifted unsteadily and uncomfortably upon my toes.  Once my sweat had dried and my body cooled, I found the surrounding air still somewhat warm, though hardly stifling, aside from the continued heat caused by the hood. 

I was in something of a state of half sleep when I sensed someone near me.  Even though my primary senses were still gone, I could sense the shift in the air as someone moved around me, and the subtle instinct that someone was staring at me was hard to ignore.  I ventured an inquiry, unintelligible as it may have been, but received no immediate response.  Whoever it was circled me, and I got the sense of being prey that was getting stalked by a deft hunter.  Or, perhaps, a worm on a hook would be a better analogy, as I recall squirming quite a bit after several minutes had passed.

Without warning, I suddenly felt hands upon my body, their arms reaching around behind me, tearing my already disheveled and sweat-soaked clothes open.  Sharp fingernails dug into my breasts as the hands grasped them and squeezed, seemingly weighing them before they traced uncomfortably down my sides, giving me the impression of knives running over my flesh.  Soon they groped my thighs, hips, and backside, and it wasn’t long before fingers were finding their way between my legs and my lower lips, again, seemingly testing my flesh, but then in a more teasing manner, those sharp fingernails pressing in a most intimate way.  Once I had started squirming more vigorously, the hands moved on, tracing down my legs all the way to my toes, stopping to test my soles with their nails.  I daresay I’m far more ticklish than I wished I was in that moment.

At long last, the hands left my body, and my mysterious tormentor stepped away for a few moments.  At least, I felt hands working the laces of the hood, drawing them loose, and gratefully I relished the cool air that assailed my head once it was finally removed.  Opening my eyes, I found the chamber lit by candlelight, though I could see little detail of my surroundings beyond their illumination save that it seemed very much a dungeon, though hardly a dank one.  The pungent odor of sweat and leather from my own body was stifled by the scent of perfumed, its strong, powerful scent tickling something of a vague recollection in my mind. 

My captors hands grasped my breasts again, her sharp nails pinching my nipples rather painfully.  I looked down, saw that her skin was a fiery red hue, her nails more akin to claws, and my breath caught in my throat as I fought not to make any sudden movements.  I saw that she wore fine black silk that hugged her forearms.  For a moment, we both remained motionless, then she pressed herself against my back, her body much warmer than my own.  I felt a third touch upon my hips, slipping between my legs, and as I squirmed, I caught sight of her slender tail as it caressed my thigh and teased my nethers.

The mazoku finally spoke then, her voice deeper than women, but smooth and seductive, as is natural for so many of her kind, yet filled with an undeniable commanding presence.  “Angelique Cartacustos…you dare to leave your station as my son’s tutor without even waiting for us to formally meet?  I’m quite offended!”

I shivered and let out a squeaking moan behind the jaw-breaking gag.  It was Alekos’s mother!  That vaguely familiar perfume was suddenly very familiar as I clearly remembered sampling it once during my time at the Kormides residence for one of the parties Alekos had hosted.  I even recalled him saying that it was his mother’s favorite! 

Then what may well have been the most distressing fact about what little I knew of his mother, Armenia, clicked into place, explaining much of my predicament at the time:  she was a priestess of Yurisaya, and a high-ranking one at that!

#Lore24 – Entry #307 – Fantasy Month IV #2 – An Unexpected and Unwelcome Detour

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I write this, it has been several days since my previous entry, and I find myself in a peculiar situation, and far removed from the Great Library I had thought to return to.  A most unexpected and unwelcome detour has befallen me, and I now find myself enroute to the far south-western border of the Imperium and a region of the Wildlands that has recently drawn much attention from the Emperor and adventurers alike.  It is a most curious and vexing arrangement that I find myself in…but I suppose I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself and recount the details of my situation.

I was in the midst of a most relaxed and deep slumber as my carriage left the outskirts of Draconis Magna and had been completely unaware that it had come to a stop soon after my slumber began.  I would not be aware of it until I was suddenly pulled from the carriage and thrown to the ground outside none too gently.  I was surrounded by a group of black-scaled drakonae,* but before I could even begin to inquire what was happening, one secured a jawbreakingly large ball gag harness about my head, and a black leather sack was pulled over it.  I immediately recognized this as a deprivation hood, for as the laces were deftly tightened and secured, I lost all sensations of hearing and sight beyond my own panicked breathing.  The drakonae worked with quick and well-practiced efficiency that led me to ponder the exact nature of their chosen profession, binding my hands first in tight-fitting leather mitts secured by straps around my wrists, and then drawing my arms together behind my back to encase them in a leather sheath that soon had them held uselessly and mercilessly together, only growing tighter as the laces were pulled tight and the straps around my chest secured. 

My legs were likewise sheathed in stout leather binder that was tightened just as cruelly, from my thighs to my ankles, leaving me perhaps only able to hop about.  That was, of course, until they secured a strap to my ankles to the ring at the base of my armbinder, effectively hogtying me, leaving my back arched in what would no doubt grow quite painful soon.  I was thankful for my natural dexterity and limberness, though how long that would avail me, I did not know at the time.

I had rarely been more secure even when I had assisted Regina Houslin with her binding staff or other experiments in restraint. 

Blind and deaf to the world around me, the drakonae’s efficiency continued as they worked together, their clawed hands lifting me up into what I assumed was a cart.  I was quickly proven wrong, however, when I realized that my knees and head were touching against the sides of something much smaller.  With a sudden panic, I realized, when the lid was closed above me (I could tell by the sudden loss of the heat of the sun upon my skin and the vibrations of the latches being closed) that they had placed me inside a chest!  In my furious struggles, I realized that the chest was barely big enough to contain me, and I had quickly built up quite a sweat, the air growing quite warm and thinner, but not enough that once I ceased my struggles that I was any danger of suffocation. 

I know not where they took me at the time, though I do know that riding hogtied in a chest with your limbs severely bound as I was, inside a chest upon a cart, can be a most uncomfortable and unpleasant experience. 

As my more reasonable mind began to take over as my panic subsided, I tried to reason out exactly who would go through the effort of kidnapping me in such a way, who I may have offended or who may stand to gain from my capture.  I had not been deeply involved with the upper crust of Draconis Magna’s wealthiest classes for long, and I could not remember specifically offending anyone, though given the sometimes mercuric nature of some of the nobility, perhaps I had slighted one in some way unbeknownst to me.  Or perhaps it was an enemy of General Kormides, seeking knowledge of his son through me?  Was it someone seeking knowledge of the Great Library for something nefarious?  It had to be someone of some wealth, or perhaps a group of individuals who had come together, for the party of drakonae were well-trained and brutally efficient, no doubt quite used to such activities, and that kind of expertise always came with a high price. 

I would have much time to ponder my situation, though no answers I could come up with would prepare me for the eventual truth I would learn of my abduction, nor would I know quite how to properly deal with the situation I would find myself in.

 

*Regarding the Drakonae:

I had decided a while back that kobolds and drakonae are separate races, and am formalizing that as of now.  Kobolds in my world are the classic fantasy/D&D creatures that are somewhat doglike in appearance.  Drakonae are more akin to the modern interpretations that have them as draconic in nature, with draconic features (scales, tails, claws, teeth, etc), abilities (such as dragon’s breath, waterbreathing, and wings in some cases), and heritage based upon reclaiming the lost glories of their mighty ancestors who long ago vanished.  Any references to “kobolds” in my older entries (both fantasy and sci-fi) that refer to them using draconic breath or breathing underwater, scales, etc, are Drakonae.  I think I’ve only referenced kobolds once (during the “Kobold Incident” in Eri and Hatae’s month of entries), so all other instances should be considered Drakonae (first named during the Helica month entries).

#Lore24 – Entry #306 – Fantasy Month IV #1 – A Return to the Great Library, A Return to Normalcy

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

To say that the last three months have been trying would be an understatement; it is a testament to my trials that I have neglected my journal for so long.  I will have to recall the specifics later, well, perhaps not ALL of them, given the rather…embarrassing nature of many of them.  Suffice to say, during that particular phase in which Mother quizzed me on my knowledge of various things before my departure from the Great Library, I wound up experiencing more of the things I never thought I would have than I could have imagined.

As my entries from months ago indicate, I was initially quite excited to become the tutor of Alekos, General Loukas Kormides’s son.  I had only visited Draconis Magna a handful of times, and to have the chance to visit it regularly was quite refreshing, at first anyway.  Though I thought I was prepared, I found myself quickly taken in by Alekos’s Mazoku nature, his seductive charms seemingly amplified by his very blood.  I knew this going in, of course, but still, my willpower was only so strong, and I soon found my mind slipping further away from the rational to the lustful.  Oh, Alekos is quite the attentive student, and is possessed of a most keen intellect, but his Mazoku blood runs quite heated indeed.  His attendant Kerryn slave, Ryona, didn’t help matters either, for she was perhaps more insistent with experiencing erotic pleasures than even he was.  Now, perhaps, I understand why Alekos’s mother, a priestess of Yurisaya whom I never had the opportunity to meet, had insisted upon fitting him with that chastity device.  Though why she did not fit Ryona with one is unclear to me; it would have drastically improved the situation, and would have curved her enthusiasm for demonstrating for me, more often with me, her erotic pleasure arts.

And then there is the wardrobe I now possess that I will likely never again wear.  After the first week, once we had gotten to know each other somewhat, Alekos insisted that I dress in the high fashions that are popular now, though I had previously claimed I would never do so.  I repeatedly said it was unnecessary, of course, but his charms are nigh irresistible when he has his mind set on something; were he but able to focus so intently upon his studies…  I am hardly a fan of such restrictive things, but the finery and custom fitting cannot be understated.  The thought has crossed my mind that perhaps I should drop the trunk containing them off somewhere beside the road before we reach the Great Library; should Mother find out about such things, she would insist on seeing me in every single item, no matter how revealing or restrictive.  I can but wonder whether her own perverse streak could rival that of Alekos…

The less said about what I found myself involved in behind closed doors between Alekos and Ryona the better…

Still, in spite of all of the setbacks and distractions, and the many things I had never intended to learn during my time there, I did manage to maintain a mostly strict schedule of study, and Alekos did perform quite well on the tests which I set before him.  Though a tough decision, I felt that it was in his best interest if I were to leave, and for another scholar to replace me.  When I communicated this to Mother, she understood, and it was then that I learned that I had lasted months longer than other tutors, a testament to my well-trained mind and discipline, no doubt… Still, I think Gray Tiger will make a most adequate tutor for Alekos, and I can be absolutely certain that he will put up with none of Alekos’s attempts at seduction, should he even try them upon a half-ogre, half-orc.

I look very much forward to returning to the Great Library, perhaps only for a while, to clear my mind and recenter myself.  Perhaps after some rest, I will find a way to adventure once again.  For now, though, we are a good distance outside the city, and it will be a long ride to the Wayrest at which we will stop tonight.  It is warm and pleasant, so I think I will nap for a time.

#Lore24 – Entry #181 – Wild West Month #30 – Those who Make the Thundering Weapons

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

Though the Kerra-Kerra have long sought not to make use of Thundering Weapons, as our lands are threatened more and more by the Many People from Beyond the Great Walls, so too must we learn to use them if we wish to keep our sacred places as they should be.  Our ways of living upon the Bitter Frontier mean that we cannot make the Thundering Weapons for ourselves, and that those who seek to do us harm will try to keep them from us.  Should you ever find yourself in battle and slay one using a Thundering Weapon, if you can, take it and its bullets with you; if you do not use it for yourself, then someone in our tribe or another will.  As such, you should be aware that not all Thundering Weapons are created equal, for some are better than others, and will see you live where a poorer weapon would see you dead.

As our people have learned, through use and conversation with those who do not seek to harm us as they explore the Bitter Frontier, be aware of the revolving Thundering Weapons that bear the mark of the young Filly.  Filly pistols are amongst the finest made, and among the most common you will find for this reason.  They are reliable, accurate, and deadly.  Their ammunition is short, marked with the numbers “45” in the common tongue.  If you cannot have a Filly, then those from “Weston & Smythe” are nearly as good, though their bullets are not always of the same size, and sometimes harder to find.  There have been many gunslingers who carry those W&S weapons which break open from the top, for they are quicker to reload, and easier to do so from horseback. 

For the hunter, the long Thunder Weapons bearing the name “Winchauster” are regarded as the best.  The make the “shotgun” like no other, for it can spread many tiny bullets far and wide.  They make them with one or two barrels, some that can even hold more than one or two cartridges.  These weapons, up close, can tear a man in half.  Never ever underestimate the power of such a weapon.  Likewise, the “Winchauster” also make the best “rifles”, the kind of Thundering Weapon that shoots bigger bullets for longer range and greater power.  Their “rifles” hold many bullets and load and reload quickly, using the lever on the bottom to do so.  There are others who make such weapons, but the quality is not the same, nor are their ammunition, which is harder and harder to find.

Special “rifles” of note are those that are very long and very heavy compared to the “Winchausters” and bear the name of “Keens”.  Sometimes you will find them with a Tube of Crystal and Brass atop them, devices that will allow you to clearly see the much further than normal, but most often not.  They use the largest of the solid bullets and are loaded one at a time from the rear.  These are very powerful, best used for hunting the largest of buffalo, and can even pierce the shells of the giant scorpions in the Great Scorpion Flats at distance.  These are rare compared to others, but highly prized.

A new kind of Thundering Weapon is becoming more common upon the Bitter Frontier now, and can be found upon the Howling Steel Chariots, and are a terrible sight to behold.  These are called the “Ripley Guns”, and they can lay waste to entire war parties, for they fire many, many rounds one after the other without need to reload.  You will know them for they have many barrels, arranged in a circle around a center tube, and are fired by turning a crank on one side.  They are mounted and stationary but are often hidden behind walls of steel, firing through smaller openings.  It is best to run when one of these Thundering Weapons is brought to bear against you, unless you are able to take out the ones firing it from cover.  We do not favor such weapons, for they are heavy and hard to carry.  Destroy them if you can, but do not risk your life to do so.

#Lore24 – Entry #180 – Wild West Month #29 – Those who Face Bullets with Swords

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

Strange are the ways of the Peoples from Beyond the Ocean Which Leads to the Lands of the Setting Sun.  Though very rare within the Bitter Frontier, sometimes you will encounter one of them, and you will know them by the long, curved swords they carry.  They are often of elven blood, though mixed usually with human, but not always, and the swords they carry are said by our ancestors to have once been favored by our own people, though the ways of making them have long since been lost to us. 

It is a unique method Those who Face Bullets with Swords use.  I have seen some of them forsake the use of Thundering Weapons altogether in my travels, while others will use them almost as often.  But more curious about their methods is their ability to use their Curved Swords to deflect the bullets fired by those wielding Thundering Weapons.  It may seem impossible, but I have witnessed this for myself.  It is not a feat undertaken lightly, for the slightest failure in their training will see them dead or dying, for one cannot see the bullet and must rely upon their honed instincts.  Their ways are as mysterious to us as our shamanic ways must seem to the outsiders, but everyone must forge their own path.

If you witness one carrying such a Curved Sword, be wary should you have to engage them in battle.  An arrow will do little good unless you catch them completely unawares, for they are much easier to predict than a bullet.  I have seen one such person split a bullet in twain with their blade, sending the halves of it into enemies on either side of them.  I have seen them deflect a full six shots from one of the revolving Thundering Weapons only to charge forward in the time it takes to blink to cut the gunman down.  I have likewise seen those who have failed in their dangerous way, receiving a lesser wound than they would have, perhaps, only to be taken out by another bullet fired moments later. 

A strange way indeed.