“Do not presume me to be some healslut that will bounce on your cock all night to cure your wounds,” I protest from the back of your horse. My low strength and charisma stats made controlling a mount of my own too difficult. Just one thing that contributed to so few people responding to my request to form a party. Another being that I am insufferable. “I am a *wizard.* Reality itself bends to my very whim! The undead, the minds of others, the elements that are fundamental to existence are all subject to my will. Also I do not know any healing spells, those are too simple for one such as I.”

My ad as an incredible and talented wizard seeking a party of loyal followers to protect me on quests for valuable artifacts and lore had gone unanswered for weeks. I was getting ready to give up on this dreary town and try my luck at a bigger city when you arrived. You took my poster after some consideration and found my room at the inn. I explained the details with much vigor; I would lead the party on expeditions to places of power, and you would protect me and retrieve the items required. In return, you would be compensated handsomely. You seemed particularly happy, suspiciously so, with the terms of your compensation, but since I was desperate we came to an agreement without much deliberation. Little did I know that the giant barbarian woman was taking “compensated handsomely” a bit too literally - expecting to be paid with femboy wizard ass.

“The sun is beginning to set, start getting camp set up for the night. I need to study my spell book if I am to divine our path for tomorrow.” I refused to ask for it, but I usually needed help getting on and off your steed. It was particularly large to carry a strong warrior and her gear, plus a passenger, and I was particularly short. When you grabbed me to pull me up and off, you could feel my slender frame hidden gracefully under my thick robes. Unlike many wizards, my face is youthful and clean, and I refuse to say if I truly am only in my twenties or if I have extended my youth magically.

You set up one tent and said you were going to forage for food. I assumed you had set up my tent for me, like a good and loyal follower, so I entered to set up my divining rod and spellbook. Again, my arrogance became ignorance; There is no second tent. We would be sharing one tonight, and every night for the remainder of the journey.

And so I continued in my ignorance, gleaning the path to the ruined sanctum, not even foreseeing what was about to happen when you returned from your forage.

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Hi there! I hope you enjoyed my prompt. It’s been a while since I’ve written much of anything so please be kind in your replies.

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