The Journal of Hokur McMerceson

Campaign: MonkeyStomping

Coitus Interuptus
Let’s start with me sayin’ that elfish whores is not quite like yer regular Salpian whores. Oh, they’ll take yer coin ready enough, donnae get me wrong, but whereas a Salpian cunt will just lie there and have you pound away until ya bust yer nut once you’ve paid up, the elves have a little different take on the operation. Fer them, it’s more about the experience than the transaction, if you will. Maybe it’s their longer-lived outlook or some such. In any case, it’s rather more enjoyable than yer standard Salp fuck-hole, but not nearly as much fun as tickling a good and willin’ Aral lass into a frolic behind the barn.

And elven brothel is more like a relaxin’ interlude than merely a place to spend some pent up frustrations, and I’m man enough t’say that travelin with the likes of Maeve will give any healthy male gods aplenty of frustration. If the sway of hip and bounce of breast donnae do it fer ya, or the wild mass of curls beggin’ fer yer hands t’tangle in, orthe turn of her lips, let alone the spark in her eyes when she’s up t’mischief, then once she commences singing … aye, I’m nigh certain half her tips come from the whores on the uptake on custom. The fact that she did be our captain at the time, well, bangin’ the boss is a bad idea if’n yer wishin’ t’stay employed, and anyways, she was none for havin’ any of that kind of fun.

Anyways, I was talking about elfish whores. See, the elves make a spectacle of getting yer rocks off. Oh, not a flashy show, but serious like nonetheless – a production. Once you make the deal, and that’s a weirdness in itself, all contracted agreement and such, once you broker that deal, then it’s like being treated like a king or some such. No slam-bam-thank-ya-ma’am with the elves. Fer example, on me first trip, there was quite a bit of massage going on, this little elf woman worked the knots out of me shoulders and arms something amazing, then worked on me feet, up me legs, and ,’bout the time I was wonderin’ iffen I’d missed something on the contract, finally worked me cock with hands, mouth and cunny... And all the while this music is playing from somewhere downstairs and scented candles is providin’ the only light and wine in yer glass so’s ye never see the bottom… you laugh, but och! If ye never had it, ye cannae understand. And once that first round was up they just keep going. Fer as small as they are, they must be part hollow as they can accommodate a feller right fine. And they enjoy it too. The wild gleam in their eyes… almost Aral in that… once they start ye just have to hold on and ride that mount until it’s done. Again and again. See, elves don’t deal with just ye spurtin out yer load once or twice, they’re havin’ none o’ that, it’s all night with the unsleeping little minxes! Drain a man right into sleepin’ half a day away by way of recoverin’ they will.

So, Raylen and meself, having decided that playing with elf lasses in the brothels was more rewardin’ – and less frustratin’ – than listening to Maeve’s performances – as a bloke can only stand so much of that before he has to have a release of some sort – hied us on down t’the establishment where we was becomin’ fair regular fixtures. We’d gotten the deal brokered and were settled in fer a night of amorous congress, as they says. Raylen’s across the hall, pleasuring and being pleasured by three of the lassies – “a priest of Neguma goes for the full experience” he says – whilst I’m doing a fine job of leaving Miss Sparkle-eyes breathless and fulfilled and she me. Of a sudden there’s a crash next to me head and some scaly arm and snout busts through the window next to the bed.

Well, what’s a feller gonna do when he’s balls deep in a doxy, with nae a stitch on, and some scaled monster interrupts the mood? Grab the Bleary-Eyed Dodger and stab the fucker is what! I wrapped one arm around the whore, leaned back to grab the Dodger, and sliced the beastie across the throat but good. Blood spray tells me it’s as good as dead, as there’s a thick red heat showerin’across naked bodies already slick with sweat, so I heave the trollop in close to get some maneuverin’ room.

Now, although elves is notorious fer takin’ anything in stride, apparently getting drenched with gore whilst being impaled on me Aral staff was more than the dear little slip of a thing could handle, as she starts up a wail in me ears louder than four cats with their tails tied together. An it’s nae like I could take the time to console her, ‘cause fuck me if there were nae another lizard tryin’ to claw its way inside! This one decided to maybe clear the way first, havin’ seen what happened t’it’s mate, so it heaves a stick in first, which missed me by a mile even inside and nekkid. Poking its muzzle in to see what its stick had done, me and the Dodger let it know ye never interrupt a McMerceson while he’s fuckin’.

With two down and more likely, I decides its maybe time to unsheathe meself from Miss Screams-a-lot and get serious about endin’ this foolishment. So I slides her off gentle-like and sets her down away from the busted window, and stomps int’ me boots. What more’s an Aral need, aye? And, bam, out the window I go, Dodger and me manhood a wavin’ in the night, lookin’ fer trouble and sure t’find it.

Apparently these lizardmen did nae be expectin an Aral clad in naught but their comrade’s blood to come play with ‘em. The one was still a staggerin’ about, so’s a quick slash with the Dodger and its down fer good t’join the other one what was poolin’ out its life blood. Now hearin’ more ruckus coming from around the way, I steps out in the street and spies Arcelli at the corner of the brothel, most likely come from playin’ in the woods with his elven brothers after this bit of nuisance, and gives him a nod. Maybe I spooked him as well, but he gives me the sign there’s more down that away, pointin’ t’me left, so’s off I bop, all a wavin’ free as ye please. Sure’s enough, another lizard had gone and gotten into the locals next door, and the wee elf trying desperately to hold off the lizard that was slaverin’ fer his throat. Well, I was havin’ none of that. I slipped right in and gave the critter what for, the Dodger making thrusts in that hide and endin’ whatever lizardy dreams it started the night with.

As it goes, I was nae the only one that had his bit of fun interrupted. Apparently Raylen, hearin’ me little bit o’ fluff screamin’ and wailin’, had disentangled hisself from his joy toys and come investigatin’. Only in the Salp’s need for propriety he spent the time to slip into his trousers and boots afore coming out of his side of the hall, right into seein’ one of the beasties coming through a window. Well, apparently not havin’ a weapon in hand is no deterrent fer the man as he brings down the wrath of Neguma on the critter, seared it crisp in one stroke. I suppose Neguma don’t take lightly to havin’ his priest’s quest fer knowledge interrupted, about the same as an Aral does, if ye take my meaning.

So Raylen comes out the front door of the brothel about the time I’m steppin back out from dealing with the beastie in the neighborin’ elf house. Arcelli is spittin’ mad as both meself and Raylen had seen him in the shadows where he thought he was hid. Man must know nothing heightens the senses like fuckin’ or fightin’, and when both are involved, well, perception is apt to be a wee bit different. Arcelli, he says there’s another one down yonder, and we all take after it. What a sight that must’ve been… Arcelli swathed from head t’foot in his darkest cloak, followed by Raylen with his pasty white chest glimmering like his holy symbol, and finally me in naught but what Fate and Nature handed me. Heh! The last nasty was just about to finish off the elf inside when we arrived, and whether it was Arcelli’s arrow, Raylen’s holy bolt, or the Dodger what did it in, only the gods know, but needless to say, the elf was mighty thankful we did. Even more so once I put on me pants.

Session: You aren't from around here... - Saturday, Jul 06 2013 from 6:00 PM to 4:00 AM
Viewable by: Public
Epic × 2!