A Wizard's War

Prologue

The sun burned a fiery red as it dipped low upon the horizon, bathing the countryside below in a crimson light. Lord Byron stood upon the edge of the drop and surveyed the unsuspecting town below with eyes that could dissect and analyze the smallest details. A servant stood nearby trembling, hoping to be near at hand in a moment but also hoping to go unnoticed so as not to fall under the Lord’s cold, calculating gaze. Lord Byron was fully clad in black armor with menacing spiked shoulders and gauntlets. His pale, stern face was marked by the bloody handprint of his latest sacrifice and his long silver hair fluttered ever so slightly in the breeze. He was the embodiment of everything detestable and wrong in the world and his hollow gaze had fallen upon a new target.

“My lord,” a hooded figure emerged from the nearby tent, “Our plans are in motion, we will be fully prepared to attack at dawn.”

Auren Qualls was a powerful sorcerer who had traveled with Lord Byron since the beginning of his reign of terror. The long gray robe and hood were the symbols of his infernal order as well as the many wicked charms and chains that hung from around his neck. Qualls was indifferent to human life and served powerful demons that gave him unnatural abilities and prolonged his life.

“Why wait?” Lord Byron rasped in his gravelly, surprisingly deep baritone voice, “Already someone is on their way to warn the unsuspecting town below.”

“What?” Qualls was legitimately surprised, “Why did the stones not augur this betrayal?”

“We are not the only ones with purpose here,” Lord Byron finally turned and settled his gaze squarely upon his servant who dropped the plate of food he had been holding.

“You and some others have friends and family down there, don’t you?”

“Please, my lord,” the servant stuttered and fell to his knees beseechingly.

“Can you not see that my actions are beyond that of mere mortals? The pointless lives of your families are inconsequential in the vast flow of eternity. Yet still you defy my power!”

“This lowly servant is responsible?” Qualls almost recoiled in surprise at how he could not have seen this coming.

“With a little help,” Lord Byron moved swiftly and grasped the servant by the collar, tore open his tattered garments and exposed the hidden talisman that hung around the neck. Bright light that only Qualls could see was emitting from the talisman and he had to look away. Byron pulled the chain until it snapped and crushed the talisman beneath his boot. Again, there was a reaction that only Qualls could experience a brief rush of energy that left aches in his bones.

“Magic!” Qualls gasped.

“It is no matter,” Lord Byron chuckled as he turned his back and walked back toward the cliffs edge, “I could smell the fear and treachery on this stupid boy from the moment we arrived here.”

The servant saw his chance and pulled the small dagger at his waist and charged Byron, ready to plunge the sharp point into his master’s back just between the weak points of the armor plate. Faster than his eye could track, the servant watched in horror as Byron moved in a quick sidestep and there was a singing of steel in the air. The servant’s momentum propelled him over the side of the cliff, and he landed hard on his back on a rock some 10 feet below. The servant could scarce believe he was alive and wanted to get up and run, but his body was not responsive. He looked down and saw that only his torso had fallen from above and his lower half was now only blood and entrails. He was not long for this world.

Lord Byron sheathed his bloody sword and let the steel absorb his latest victim’s blood. He turned back to Qualls and issued the order to attack at once.

Chapter 1

Simon Lorall stood in silent contemplation before a large roaring fireplace. He was in the home of Westwood’s mayor and he felt quite out of place in such elegant furnishings. Simon was accustomed to his family’s small wood and plaster farm house that was surrounded on all sides by fields and livestock. The Lorall family owned the most land in Westwood and once they were a prominent name, but years of drought had practically decimated their wealth and prosperity.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a servant spoke from a nearby doorway, “the master will be with you shortly.”

The small mousey woman turned and disappeared back into the other room. Simon felt extremely uncomfortable and nervous. Bronn Hawthorn, the mayor of Westwood was known for his brilliant trading and commerce strategies. He was smooth talking, charismatic, and built like an ox. Everyone fell under Hawthorn’s charms and it was no wonder he had taken over the town so easily. Almost everyone owed taxes to the man and paid them gladly since he saved their collective hides during the years of drought. It made Simon sick to his stomach that at long last his family had come to ask for help and that he should be at the center of it.

Simon was not a big farmer like his father, sure his hands were course and his skin deeply tanned from years in the field, but he was rather small and slim. As much as he helped on the farm, he was primarily interested in books and frequently made trips to the town library. He was fascinated with stories of elves and magic in distant lands, but it was often unclear if these were historical accounts or simply works of fiction. But he filled his head with all the information since the moment his mother first taught him to read. Being able to read was a rare occurrence for a farmer and his dad found it pointless, but his mother secretly wanted more for her child.

“An active imagination frees the soul,” she often told him.

Fretfully waiting in Bronn’s study, Simon took to perusing the various books and volumes on the shelves. Most of them were ledgers and records of various business dealings and tax collection. But he finally found a section that had rare accounts about the history of Westwood and the surrounding areas. Some were even handwritten documents left by early explorers. His excitement grew as he touched the frail pages and leather hide binding.

“Ahem,” Someone cleared their throat behind Simon. Simon turned to see Bronn Hawthorn filling up the doorway. He was dressed in extraordinarily rich fabrics, heavily embroidered red tunic and trousers. Bronn’s jet-black hair was slightly curly but parted just perfectly on the side of his head and slicked back a little. His big muscular arms were covered with hair and crossed over his massive chest. His dark brown eyes showed little amusement at catching Simon with his books.

“Oh…” Simon stuttered, “I’m sorry. I was just looking.”

“Put it back and take a seat,” Bronn motioned to a chair in front of his large oak desk. Simon complied while Bronn closed the door to the study and went to the corner of the room.

“Would you like some mead?” Bronn asked, but he was already pouring two glasses before Simon could respond. He turned and thrust the cup into Simon’s hand before sitting at his desk.

“I…I’ve…” Simon stuttered and felt his face turning red.

“Yes, spit it out boy!” Bronn slammed a hand on his desk.

“I’ve come to officially declare my intentions for your daughter, Ellina.”

Bronn took a large gulp of his mead and smiled maliciously down at Simon. He said nothing for a full minute, which felt like an eternity. He just drank his mead and studied Simon like a person might study a new bug they had never seen. Simon felt his pulse racing and practically pounding in his ears. He was so nervous, he felt sick to his stomach and the mead burned like hot acid all the way down.

“I respect you for coming all this way,” Bronn finally spoke, “You are here to court my daughter in the traditional manner. However, I enter this arrangement with a high level of disgust. Look at you, so small and feeble, hardly worthy of my daughter. You are the son of a farmer, how have you not built yourself into a strong brute of a man, like your father?”

“I…” Simon began.

“That was rhetorical, don’t interrupt me. Your family has nothing to offer. You have nothing to offer. There is no dowry or coin, but there is land. How will you work the land when your father is gone? You are so frail and useless, and you will be unable to care for my daughter.”

“My father has taught me everything,” Simon pleaded, “I will be able to continue the work when he is gone.”

“But I see it on your face, even now,” Bronn stood and towered over Simon as he paced around to the side of the desk, “you don’t want to be a farmer. You do not want to tend the land and care for livestock. You probably couldn’t even handle a nine-inch plow.”

Simon had no idea what Bronn was talking about, but he didn’t want to mess up the deal his father had struck with this powerful figure, “Of course I can handle a nine-inch plow!”

Bronn now stood before Simon, leaning slightly against the desk and his mouth split into a lewd grin. He placed his large meaty hand under Simon’s chin and caressed his cheek ever so slightly with his thumb. Simon trembled as he realized Bronn’s crotch was at eye level and it was bulging beneath the man’s trousers.

“Maybe there is something you can do for me then,” Bronn whispered, “some favors you can provide to sweeten the deal.”

“P-please, sir,” Simon pulled back from his touch, “I can’t…”

“Oh, but you will,” Bronn grasped Simon’s arm by the wrist before Simon could scramble out of the chair and guided Simon’s hand to the bulging crotch. Simon felt the warm shaft underneath that was getting firmer and it twitched with excitement at his touch.

“You’re sick,” Simon spit at Bronn as he tried to free himself from the large man’s tight grip.

“Maybe,” Bronn chuckled, “but this is the price. Or you can go back to your father with nothing. Your farm will dry up and your family will go broke. Without money to pay taxes, I will take your land in the end anyway.”

Simon stopped struggling and looked up at the brutish man with pleading eyes, but he found no remorse or salvation there. Bronn’s eyes were fixed, and he knew exactly what he wanted. Simon wrapped his hand around Bronn’s shaft and began to feel its weight and thickness. It was not even fully erect and already it was massive. Bronn released his wrist and let him explore more freely.

“That’s a good boy,” Bronn leaned back more against the desk and smiled.

“It’s too big,” Simon mused, “I didn’t know they could get so big.”

Bronn laughed openly at this and then grabbed Simon by the back of the head and forced his face into his crotch. Simon felt the huge cock pressing against his cheeks and nose as Bronn ground up against him. Bronn wore a sweet fragrance that was not unpleasant, but beneath this scent was the strong stench of a man, a man full of lust and desire. Simon placed his hands on Bronn’s hips to push away, but Bronn used his other hand to help force Simon back down.

“Don’t struggle,” Bronn growled, “it will only make it worse for you.”

Simon could do nothing but endure the large shaft grinding against his face while inhaling deeply this man’s intense scent. While Simon was truly horrified at his situation, he also felt a slight stirring of lust in his loins. Something about Bronn’s intense desire was making Simon feel wanted or needed. Part of Simon wanted to help satisfy another person sexually for the first time.

“Lick it,” Bronn instructed, “put out your tongue and lick it.”

Simon was hesitant, but he opened his mouth just a little. Bronn positioned his shaft to now grind and thrust against Simon’s open mouth. Simon let his tongue just touch the fabric of Bronn’s trousers before pulling back.

“All the way,” Bronn demanded, “Let me feel the wet warmth of your tongue.”

Simon let his tongue hang out of his open mouth and the now rock-hard shaft slid back and forth underneath the fabric. Simon’s saliva and hot, heavy breathing began to wet and darken the crotch of Bronn’s trousers as they strained to contain the massive shaft within. Bronn reacted to these new sensations by pressing Simon’s head down more forcefully against him. Simon moaned and submitted more fully to the moment. Simon’s own dick was not hard, but ever so slightly more excited than before. Simon massaged at his aching crotch absently while Bronn used his face.

Bronn leaned back a bit against the desk and pulled his trousers down in a swift motion. The fat, nine-inch cock flopped out and smacked Simon squarely in the forehead where it left a sticky drop that was leaking from the tip.

“Open up more,” Bronn demanded. Simon didn’t even consider refusing and opened his mouth wider. Bronn lined up his massive cock and shoved it inside about a quarter of the length before Simon gagged. Simon’s throat tightened and his mouth wanted to spit out the intruding shaft, but Bronn didn’t stop he just started fucking against the tightening throat. Simon desperately inhaled through his nose and saliva began pouring into his mouth in response to the gagging and fullness.

“Wrap your lips over your teeth,” Bronn ordered, “your scraping me with your teeth.”

Simon was so overwhelmed he didn’t think about his teeth, so he opened more and tried to use his lips and tongue to navigate the large cock away from them. It was not an easy task due to the size of Bronn’s fat cock, it left little room in Simon’s mouth. As Simon maneuvered his tongue outward it opened the pallet just a bit more and on his next thrust Bronn rammed to the back of his throat. Simon gagged and fell away from the massive cock. He choked and coughed, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m not done with you,” Bronn was on him dragging him to the ground. He straddled Simon and placed his wet cock over Simon’s face. He began pushing the head of the cock against Simon’s mouth and demanding that he open back up.

Simon had tears in his eyes, and he didn’t want to continue in this position. If the cock hit his throat again there would be nowhere to go while pinned to the floor. But there was no escape, so Simon reluctantly opened his mouth and Bronn plunged inside. Simon was glad that Bronn was not being as forceful now, he began fucking Simon’s face but only with the amount of cock that would not gag Simon.

“That’s it boy,” Bronn groaned in pleasure, “You like that big cock, don’t you?”

Simon positioned his tongue again and Bronn’s cock slid a little deeper. Simon fought the urge to gag and thought about swallowing food. When you get a bite too big and you must choke it down a bit, he tried to emulate that motion, but he had to do it again and again and again. His eyes leaked, with tears freely streaming down his cheeks, as he gave Bronn access to his raw throat.

“I asked you a fucking question, boy!” Bronn roared, “Tell me you like that cock.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Simon tried to make a sound and as he did Bronn picked up the pace, fully fucking Simon with reckless need and ruthless power. Simon gagged and turned his head sideways as the only means to expel the invading shaft. The motion scraped Bronn’s dick with teeth and the large man roared in rage. The dick withdrew and was quickly followed by a backhand across Simon’s face.

“Stupid cunt!” Bronn growled, “What did I say about your teeth?”

“Please, no more,” Simon panted as he held his throbbing cheek where Bronn had just struck him. Simon cried pitifully and felt completely helpless.

“I’m not done,” Bronn snarled, “And you and I are just getting started.”

Bronn squeezed Simon’s cheeks with his hand, forcing open the jaw, and then shoved his dick back inside. Simon used the tricks he had learned so far to keep himself from instantly gagging. He used the saliva to make it slide easier and his lips and tongue to position the shaft. He opened his pallet and let the fat cock inside his throat. Bronn was ruthless, but soon Simon discovered the rhythm of Bronn’s thrusts and tried to open his throat accordingly and squeezing the head of the cock just right. Simon was completely unaware that he had begun to bob his head up and down off the floor to take the cock more fully into his mouth, but Bronn noticed and was even more aroused by this development.

Bronn increased his speed and intensity and Simon struggled to catch his breath through his nose. Simon was going to need to breathe soon, but he didn’t want to scrape Bronn’s dick again, so he reached up and grasped Bronn’s shaft with his hand and guided it out of his mouth sideways so as to prevent any issues. Simon drew in long, deep breaths as Bronn began slapping his face with his big wet cock.

“I didn’t say to stop,” Bronn urged. Simon complied and opened his mouth again after he felt he had caught his breath. Bronn was right back at it and slamming his cock deep into Simon’s throat. Simon began to taste a saltiness inside his mouth as Bronn’s dick was rapidly leaking fluid into his mouth and throat. It was slick and allowed the cock to flow more fluidly and Bronn moaned in pure delight.

“Don’t stop,” Bronn growled, “take it, take it!”

Simon was getting the urge to draw breath again, he panted through his nose, but it was not enough. But Bronn was beyond stopping as he used his whole weight to thrust deep down into Simon’s throat. His muscles began to tighten in his body and his ass and with one deep downward thrust he released into Simon’s mouth. The bitter, salty fluid flooded Simon’s mouth and throat and his eyes bulged with surprise. Simon couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t move and he couldn’t get the massive cock out, so he started to swallow. He gulped down the hot sticky mass just as more erupted out of Bronn’s cock. Bronn roared overhead in pure orgasmic bliss before one last small thrust purged his balls of their hot fluid.

Simon sucked and swallowed trying to keep his airway open for the moment he could finally inhale once more. Bronn seemed to like it as he slowly pulled out of Simon’s wet, sloppy mouth with a pop. Simon drew breath and looked up at the beast of a man now resting slightly on his chest. Bronn looked down with a look of sheer wonder on his face, like he was seeing Simon for the first time.

“I think we can work something out,” Bronn finally spoke, “I grant you permission to court my daughter.”

Simon lay on the ground as Bronn got up and pulled up his trousers. Bronn sat back down at the desk and drank his mead as if nothing had happened. Simon got up slowly, while wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. Simon was horrified to look down and see his own pants tented so slightly with an erection. He shifted to press it up against his body and hopefully out of sight.

“Thank you, sir,” Simon spoke weakly.

“Since your family’s land will be mine after the marriage, I would like a full survey of the property. Over the coming weeks, my sons or I will come to inspect the property and I request that you show us around personally. You and you alone must extend the same courtesy that you have shown here today. Do you understand?”

“Umm…” Simon paused understanding the implications, “yes, sir.”

“Very good,” Bronn flashed that lewd smile again, “I think we are going to get along quite nicely.”