A tale of artists, intrigue, and the magical renaissance

Twisted Smut 2 – Et De Sua Sagittari {A Sagittari of Her Own}

“Ladies and gentlemen! You wander around this fine fairground, milling here and there, and I can see that some of you are having a good time. Some of you are considering yourselves lucky to see the feats of plain, boring, normal Storm touched! Oh aye, that’s right, I said normal, you poor peasants. Compared to what you’re about to see, those Storm touched might as well be simple jugglers or cheap fortune tellers. For here, in our humble little still, we are proud to present the most powerful Storm touched in all of Italoza!”

The stalls were full of boasting loudmouths, but none seemed so audacious in their claims as the thin man with the thick mustache. A crowd was slowly building around him as he gestured and waved with one hand, his other resting on a cage full of plain grey birds, and even some of the people working in the surrounding stalls were craning their heads to look.

“Oh I can see your eyes drawn to the tent behind me, and I am hurt, so hurt by your assumptions. The greatest man blessed with such power isn’t hiding, no, it is I! The Great Marco Sumpressio Laroci, the greatest Sagittari that ever walked this beautiful earth.” He interrupted the deep and flourishing bow he dipped to cast an exaggerated frown at a young girl standing near the front of the crowd.

“I see you tittering there, little girlie.” The Great Marco lowered his voice, just quiet enough that those on the outer edge of the crowd had to shuffle in and move closer. “Do you not believe the Great Marco? You doubt the word of the man touched not once, but twice by the Storm?”

“I believe you!” The little girl cried, and the Great Marco paused for a moment, her answer clearly not fitting into his mental script. He recovered quickly, spreading both arms and raising his voice again.

“As the Holy Word says, from the mouths of babes comes the truth! If only the elders in this crowd had your wisdom, small child-”

Said crowd had grown quite large by this point, as more and more people crowded around to see what all the fuss was about, and one of the more unruly members of the crowd interrupted with a yell.

“If you’re such a great Sagittari how comes you got no bow?”

“It is for that very reason that I am the world’s greatest Sagittari.” The Great Marco smiled as if he had been waiting for this moment, removing a bird from within the cage with a practised motion. “True, a normal Sagittari uses a bow, some might use a spear. The Great Marco needs no such crutches.” He took advantage of the crowd hanging on his every word to pause, lifting the bird with flair. The fraction of a pause was just long enough for the most impatient in the crowd to grow restless before the Great Marco delivered his finishing masterstroke.

“The Great Marco needs nothing but….his mind!” He hurled the bird in the air, but kept his hand outstretched, pointing his palm at the creature as it winged its way away from him. The crowd began murmuring, but The Great Marco ignored them, tracking the bird’s motion through the air with his palm.

As the first jeers began to call from the crowd, the bird suddenly jerked in the air, then plummeted straight down, so fast that it took only a few seconds before it had hit the ground somewhere off in the distance, hidden behind the tents and stalls of the fairground.

“So you see, the little girl was right to believe in me.” The Great Marco grinned at his captivating audience.

“A lie! Some sort of trick!” The same man in the back cried. “If we had known what you were doing, we would’ve kept a better eye on ya!”

“Ooh show us again mister!” A more honest young lady called from nearer the middle. “Do it with another bird!”

“Perhaps The Great Marco could be convince to display his power again,” The man twisted his mustache around one finger with a devilish grin, “once his hat is full of coin…”

It didn’t take long.

 


 

Wylbur leaned back in the grass on top of the quiet hill and let his gaze wander over the tents and stalls of the fairgrounds far below. When he had first climbed to his vantage point, he had decided that the warm sun and pleasant breeze was peaceful, but now he was beginning to think it was simply boring. Since his only occupation besides scanning the lines of tents was to watch the breeze stir indistinct patterns in the grass, he noticed the woman almost immediately.

She had slipped from the back of the tents and was already making her way towards him, but she was still too far away to make out any particular feature of her face. Wylbur spared a glance at the tents, saw another bird rising in the air, a speck in the distance. With one eye on the girl he lifted the small slingshot wrapped around his wrist, releasing with a snap. He didn’t bother watching for the bird to fall. It would.

It took several long minutes for her to climb close enough to be heard.

“Good morning sir.” She chirped. As far as he could tell she was in her late twenties, far too old to be chirping, but even without the chirp her overall demeanor made him wary. She was too cheerful, too happy; it was clear she wanted something. Wylbur chuckled humorlessly to himself.

Of course she wants something, she’s not likely to climb all the way up here just to talk to me now is she?

“All the excitement’s down there.” He jerked a sausage-like thumb in the direction she’d come from. “Nothing up here but me.”

“Why do you let the man down there do that? Take credit for your gift?” The utter bluntness of the question startled Wylbur. A few moments later he realized that it might’ve been a wild guess on her part, but he could hardly deny it now, with the surprise written all over his face.

“Why do you care enough to climb all the way up here?” He countered, staring off into the distance and affecting an air of nonchalance. “If you were suspicious enough to come check chances are you were suspicious enough to keep your coin. I doubt you lost anything.”

“I wanted to know why you’re up here alone while a crowd praises some random mundane. I’m Rhee, by the way.” Ignoring Wylbur’s scowl, Rhee settled in the grass next to him, gazing out at the distant mountains along with him. Wylbur shifted a few inches away from her, still not meeting her gaze, but if she noticed she didn’t comment.

Her jet black hair that fell in curls down to her waist seemed to absorb the sunlight, and she was wearing a dress of blue and creme that fell to her ankles, thin enough that he could see the curves of her body where the sun shone through them. In his mind Wylbur combined the pretty silhouette with the chocolate brown skin of her hands and face, and the result was such an appealing picture in Wylbur’s imagination that he was distracted for a few moments.

“And I wanted to see who you were. What your personality is like. What you look like.” Rhee continued when he didn’t answer.

“What I look like.” Wylbur snorted. “There’s your answer as to why it’s Marco and not me down there. It’s a faire, people pay money to the man who can impress them, and who would be impressed by this?” He indicated the heavy gut spilling over the waistband of the trousers he wore, the thin strands of hair that barely covered his head. “How big of a crowd do you think I could fetch? Whoever heard of an ugly Sagittari? A fat Sagittari? A Sagittari who can’t use a bow or a javelin, but this?” He waved his arm from which the slingshot dangled. “Sagittari with a child’s toy. Maybe I should go down there; the only thing a crowd pays more to see than the impressive are the freaks.”

He lapsed into silence, aware that his cheeks had grown red with exertion. Too bitter, he hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. Maybe at least now she’d leave so he could stop admiring her out of the corner of his eye. Admiring a girl like that only made him more depressed in the long run.

Rhee gave him a long, thoughtful look, as if she was turning over every one of his words for some hidden meaning. She seemed so still and thoughtful that when she suddenly leaned forward and reached towards him, Wylbur’s reflexes were nowhere near fast enough to react in time.

She slapped him across the face, hard enough that it brought tears to his eyes.

Wylbur roared, more in surprise than at the pain, and struggling to his feet. It took awhile to pull his ample mass off of the ground, so by the time he turned to face her Rhee was already on hers, and had skipped back a few paces away from him.

“What the fuck was that?” He glared, rubbing his stinging face. Rhee said nothing, she just watched him carefully, a few feet out of arm’s reach. The distance she had put between them annoyed him, though not as much as the pain in his heavy cheek.

“I am a Sagittari, you know,” Wylbur growled, “I don’t need to touch you to hurt you. I could put a stone through your skull right now if I felt like it.”

“Yes.” The dark girl breathed, her eyes strangely alight. “You could kill me from farther away than this. You could put that stone through my head at a hundred feet away if you felt like it. So don’t you dare speak as if you’re a lesser man than the mortalis idiots down there.”

It wasn’t what Wylbur was expecting, certainly not from someone who had just slapped him, and for the second time in a few moments he stared at the girl in surprise. Was she paying him a compliment, or scolding him? He felt vaguely angry, somewhat flattered, and completely confused. He found it difficult enough to deal with pretty girls; pretty girls who slapped him then talked casually about him killing them were completely out of his range of experience.

“You don’t even know me, stranger.” He finally replied.

“It seems like I know you better than you know yourself, Stormtouched.” Rhee slowly crossed the distance between them, almost reverently, the fire in her eyes a fever pitch. The pieces suddenly clicked together in Wylbur’s mind.

“You’re one of those cult people aren’t you? The Storm sisters?”

“The Daughters of the Storm.” Rhee straightened just a little. “And is it so strange, that some of us recognize the respect that Stormtouched deserve?”

“Worship, you mean.” Wylbur’ discomfort was even more pronounced. “You’re all heretics.”

“Heretics?” Rhee scoffed. “The priests tell us that the Lord resides unseen in the heavens, and that we owe him our loyalty and fealty and praise. Why is it so strange that we worship the gods that we can actually see? The ones we can hear? The ones we can touch?”

“I’m not a god. I’m just…” He struggled to articulate the disgust in himself, to put into words why the idea of someone worshiping him was ludicrous. “I’m only me! My own echo can’t stand to be around me, why would you?” He waved a hand to the distant figure who slept on the grass as far away from him as she could, even though the cultist in front of him couldn’t see her.

“I know nothing about your Echo. I just know who I am.” Rhee replied simply. “I know that as a mortalis I have a responsibility to serve you in any way I can.”

For a brief moment the mental image of the beautiful girl waiting on him hand and foot flashed across Wylbur’s mind, but he pushed it away. It was too convenient, too easy. If there were really such fanatics out in the world, he would’ve encountered them by now. He would’ve heard rumors of the eager and willing Daughters of the Storm, rather than the vaguely disturbing stories of obsessed stalkers that circulated the taverns.

“Yes, anything.” Rhee misinterpreted the doubt on his face. “That depraved thought that just crossed your mind? I’ll do it if that makes you happy. I’ll stay with you every day for the rest of your life, if you’ll have me.”

Wylbur was too suspicious to even begin breaking down the offer. In the distance a speck rose in the air, indicating that Marco had released another bird. Without taking his eyes off of the girl, he raised the sling on his wrist and sent a stone flying through the air, its path taking it past Rhee’s head by a few feet. Her eyes widened and she spun to follow the path of the stone.

When the bird dropped from the air, Wylbur could swear he heard Rhee give a small moan. Perhaps it was the sound, or perhaps it was the way her half-turn had made the blue-and-white robes hug the curves of her backside, but Wylbur was suddenly even more aware of her body.

“Too good to be true.” Wylbur finally grunted, decisively. “I can’t see the trap of it, but that doesn’t mean the trap isn’t there.” He raised his chin defiantly when she turned back towards him. Who hated him enough to pull this kind of trick on him? And to what purpose?

“Try me.”

“What?”

“If you’re so sure I’m trying to trick you, try me.”  Rhee had her hands clasped in front of her, and she would almost look demure if not for the fire in her eyes. Was it enthusiasm? Passion? Fanaticism? Wylbur threw a glance over his shoulder at where Wyla slept, then cast another look around him. The wind that had swept through the grass had quieted, and there wasn’t another soul in sight.

“Alright. Reach your hands up toward the sky then.” Wylbur challenged. The response was immediate and graceful; Rhee stretched her arms so high that she rose on her toes, then held the pose, wobbling slightly but staying put. The pose made her dress lift past her ankles, and Wylbur noticed that she was barefoot, with a silver anklet contrasting pleasantly with her brown skin. His gaze travelled from her bare feet up the hem of her dress, noting the way the thin fabric clung to her hips and breasts.

“Is this all you would like me to do, Sagittari? Just stretching, nothing else?” Rhee arched an eyebrow suggestively. Wylbur looked away to avoid meeting her gaze, his face flushing.

“Turn…turn around.” He mumbled. Without comment or question she did so, spinning on one foot to face the distant faire with her arms still raised above her head. “Now…bend down and touch your toes.” How was it that even with a girl who would follow his whim without question, he could still sound so weak and pathetic? So unsure of himself?

“Your mind is making suggestions your tongue refuses to say.” Rhee twisted her head to look at him upside-down, her fingers on her toes, her hair falling around her face in black waves. Wylbur had wanted to stare at her backside, but he was finding himself captivated by her hair and face instead.

“If you don’t like what I’m doing I can just send you away instead.” He was both enjoying himself and wanting the whole encounter over with; attraction and the feeling of power warring with the intrusive self-consciousness. “And if you think I’m holding back then…well there’s nothing you or I can do about that.”

“I can distract you.” Rhee smiled, and upside-down the fanatical flame in her eyes was much less pronounced. Her smile was the perfect combination of playful and sensual, and she pulled off the unnatural pose that she still held, more like a dancer caught mid-motion than a girl in a compromising position. Wylbur gave a mental sigh. If it was a trick of some sort, he might as well gain some enjoyment out of it before the other shoe dropped.

“Distract me then.” He said, and was rewarded with an upside-down grin. Still bent over, Rhee grabbed a handful of fabric bunched at her waist and began pulling it upward. The hem of her dress slipped a few inches up her brown calf with frustrating slowness, and Wylbur watched, face impassive but heart racing. She was watching his expression carefully as she lifted, the grin softened to a small smile. Was it mocking? Or was that genuine enjoyment on her face?

There was a tattoo along the back of her right thigh, thin letters spiralling around it and revealed slowly, one by one. Mea vita, cor, Wylbur read as the words were revealed, and then higher as they spiraled around again, et ad procella… The movement of the hemline stopped, and after a moment Wylbur realized why. She had pulled her dress until the hem rested just below the curve of her rear, so that even the slightest tug would expose herself to him. She caught his gaze, and they stood in silence for what seemed like a long moment.

Here it is. Wylbur thought with a kind of grim fascination. Here’s where she drops the act, laughs in my face, and leaves to tell her friends about the gullible fool of a man, sitting alone on the top of a hill.

“I don’t know your name, Sagittari.” Rhee broke the silence, still frozen in place, bent over with her rear towards him, keeping her modesty by bare inches.

“It’s Wylbur.” His voice came out a little shakily, but at least it didn’t come out in a whisper.

“Would you like to come touch, Wylbur?” Her voice was also quiet, but she made it sound more like a throaty purr.

“You’re either a very cruel prankster or the best thing that ever happened to me.” Wylbur didn’t move, his eyes locked on the skin just beneath the hemline. It might’ve been his imagination, but he thought he could see a hint of black hair between her legs, just where her hemline ended. Even as he tried to keep from getting his hopes up, his heart was racing, his pulse pounding.

“Why don’t you come over here and find out which?”

Wylbur crossed the few steps in a heartbeat, and she didn’t move from her awkward position. Almost trembling, and cursing himself for not being more controlled, he reached out to run a finger along the skin of her thigh.

Reading and imagination had given him an incomplete idea of what a woman’s skin would feel like. He had heard it was smooth and warm, but nothing made prepared him for the actual feeling. The skin of Rhee’s thigh was soft and supple, and she defied his expectations by remaining completely still has he ran his fingers across her thighs.

Wylbur was sure that he was doing it wrong, that whatever unspoken thoughts were going through her head were judgemental. Even so, he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Somewhat awkwardly, he lifted her dress up to her waist, staring down at the smooth curve of her backside.

“Wylbur?” Rhee said quietly, and he stepped back quickly, blushing.

“I’m sorry! You said I could…”

“No, it’s just…the blood is rushing to my head…”

“Oh. You can stand up.”

She turned while she stood and stepped close, and suddenly her body was pressed to him, her lips on his. Too many sensations warred inside him to take them in one by one: the press of her breasts, the sensations of another warm body against him, the pressure of her lips, her tongue flicking out playfully. When she finally broke the kiss, Wylbur felt completely unbalanced, trying to process the pleasure of all of the sensations at once.

“Is this alright?” Rhee asked quietly. Her hands moved down to untie his pants almost casually as she waited for an answer. “If you have other orders, I’ll obey them, but if not I have ideas of how I might proceed.” Her body was warm, but her hands felt cold on his stomach as she loosened his pants. Wylbur’s mind had shut down, and he could do nothing but wordlessly nod.

Satisfied that his trousers were sufficiently unfastened, Rhee sank to her knees. She hiked her dress again, must faster this time, slipping the simple dress over her head and depositing it in a pile on the grass next to them. Standing over her Wylbur was treated to the sight of her black curls framing an eager face and small brown breasts, and the sight was enough to make him catch his breath.

She’s about to see how small I am, he thought belatedly as she hooked her thumbs into his pants, that’s when she’ll change her mind. Every thing she did made him feel even more awkward than he had before, but even with the awkwardness and embarrassment, it was too like a fantasy to stop her.

She pulled his pants down around his ankles before he could say a word. If she had any thoughts about his size she kept them to herself, although she looked up at him with a wicked smile. Grasping him gently in one hand she leaned back, displaying her breasts proudly. Wylbur worked hard to control his breathing, but she kept him on-edge, brushing the tips of her fingers across his member.

“What…what are you doing?” Wylbur finally managed, after a few minutes of the gentle brushing continued.

“I’m waiting for your commands, of course.” Rhee replied. A half hour ago Wylbur would’ve been too embarrassed to say what he wanted, but now, with the beautiful naked girl in front of him, her fingertips brushing against his shaft, he blurted it out almost without thinking.

“I command you to suck on it then.”

“Of course, master Sagittari.” Rhee moved slowly, so slowly that it was clear she teased on purpose. Her long pink tongue extended, and Wylbur held his breath as it got closer to the head of his member. She gave a long, exaggerated lick, from the base of his shaft to his head, then swirled her tongue around the sensitive flesh once, twice…

The orgasm hit him without warning, too soon and too intense. He came harder than ever had in his life, his whole body trembling. He wasn’t sure how long most men lasted, but he knew this was too soon. The combination of the feeling of her rough tongue, the obedient sweet voice ringing in his ears, and the sight of her pretty lapping motions had been too much. Even as the pleasure of it overwhelmed him, a small corner of his mind wondered if Rhee would be disgusted with him, or contemptuous of how little a time he could last.

She was clearly startled at the first burst of semen that splattered across her lips, but as he continued she leaned back on her hands in the grass, looking up at him with a smile as he grunted with his release. The sight of her laying willing and smiling while his cum landed on her breasts and stomach overwhelmed him even further, and the final few trembling spurts of his orgasm seemed to pull from deep inside his body. His legs really did give out then, and he collapsed next to her on the grass, spent and gasping for breath.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, “I know that wasn’t…I mean it was my first…I mean…”

“I hope that in time you will stop apologizing for things.” Rhee lay spread eagle in the grass, gazing up at the sky with a peaceful look on her face.

“There’s a reason I’m apologizing, don’t pretend like that was anything other than premature. I may not have much…any…experience, but I know it’s supposed to last longer than that!” Embarrassment, frustration, and gratitude warred in Wylbur, and he wasn’t entirely sure which would win out. Rhee turned her head to fix him with a steely gaze.

“My body is beautiful enough to bring a Sagittari to climax, that alone makes me feel wonderful Wylbur. That I could bring you to your fall so soon? That is an honor. You don’t have to apologize to any mortalis, but you certainly owe me no apologies.”

There was something vaguely off about her logic, but a roar from the direction of the tents took Wylbur’s attention away before he could put a finger on what it was. Far off in the distance, out of sight of the faire, a black speck made its escape into the sky.

“I missed the bird. Marco will have to give the money back.” Wylbur was only able to muster mild annoyance at the thought.

“Wylbur!” Rhee said, exasperated. She leaned up on one elbow to look down at him severely. “How often will you make me say it? A man like you, chosen by the Storm, shouldn’t care what a man like the so-called ‘Great’ Marco thinks.”

Wylbur tilted his head to one side. It was certainly attractive, the attitude she clearly thought he should have. The idea that he might be not just Storm touched, but Storm chosen was even more attractive. What would it imply, if he had been selected rather than recieved a random luck of the draw? Even with those thoughts running through his head, the most of all was the nude woman in front of him; brown skin looking warm in the sun, eyes bright with passion and flame.

Regardless of the Storm, she believed in him. She was passionate in her belief. His seed still decorated her skin, the milky white contrasting with the brown and the jet black of her hair, and she was…what had she said? Honored to have it there. His recently spent cock stirred as his gaze travelled her body. He had only imagined the patch of hair earlier, because she was bare between her legs, waxed smooth like the girls from Venizio. She was laying without shame, giving him a view of every inch of herself.

“What should I care about then?” He tried to muster his old worries back, but kept getting distracted by the splatters on her chest. ”It was a pathetic job, but it was a job. What should I do?”

Rhee caught his gaze and smiled again. She trailed a hand along her own body, watching him and seeming not to care as she smeared a trail of his cum along her stomach.

“Have you really not been listening, God of the Storm? You should do whatever the fuck you want.” With great enjoyment she slid sticky fingers over her breast and around her nipple, spreading her fingers so that strands of jizz spread between them. Wylbur shook his head, trying to reconcile the past several moments. Too much had changed, too much was different over too short a span of time. They were discussing his future, but all he could think about was the delightfully depraved girl on the grass in front of him.

“I don’t know what I want to do.” He admitted, his eyes glued to her fingers. “I’m having a hard time thinking about anything but you.”

“In that case…” Rhee paused for a moment to lick her fingers clean, carefully and deliberately sucking on each one without breaking eye contact, and Wylbur thought he might cum again then and there from the sight of it. “…you should do whoever the fuck you want.”

An hour ago, he might not have even believed it was an invitation. Now, he realized as he moved towards her, he had sometime in the past few minutes allowed himself to believe she might actually like him. She leaned back into the grass as he approached, letting him crawl across until he hovered directly over her.

For a moment Wylbur worried what he was supposed to do next, but without asking Rhee gently took hold of his slippery cock. She stroked it once or twice, then guided him to her opening, arched her hips, and slid his length inside her.

It was nothing like books, nothing like fantasy or the ribald stories. Sure they had attempted to convey the wetness, the warmth, the overall sensations, but everything fell short. Nothing had told him of the pressure of her slit, of the tightness that squeezed and milked the length of his shaft. There was nothing in the stories about the way it felt to have his hips pressed against hers, about feeling her down to his base. They hadn’t warned him how the little catch in her breath would be almost enough on its own to push him to the edge.

Then Rhee started moving.

It was too much, his still-sensitive shaft sliding against the walls of her wet snatch, the sight of her throwing her head back and the feeling of her body writhing beneath him. The wet sounds of sex and the trembling in her body was overwhelming.

“Stop!” Wylbur gasped. “Stop, it feels too good and I don’t want to…just stop for a second.” The woman obediently froze, looking up at him through long eyelashes. There was no judgement, no condescension in her eyes, she had simply heard and obeyed.

The heat between her legs still sent little bursts of pleasure from his shaft up his spine, and he could feel her pulse in the tightness that surrounded his cock, but as long as she lay still he could enjoy the pleasure without worrying about finishing too soon. Rhee was panting along with him, trying and failing to hide how turned on she was. She slowly wrapped her arms around his wide frame, and Wylbur felt somehow safe in those arms.

“So what happens next?” He asked.

“Next,” Rhee said very carefully, as if she had to devote her full attention to restraining herself, “you say the word, and then I move until you release again, and I take your seed inside of me.”

“No..” Something about the frank way she said the words made Wylbur even harder. “I meant after this? What happens between us?”

“You want to talk about that now?” Rhee seemed startled.

“I don’t know…” Wylbur suddenly wished he hadn’t opened his mouth, as a smile played around the corner of hers. “Forget it.”

“No, it’s alright.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a mocking expression as he had feared he would see on her face. After a few moments of silence she answered. “Did you read the tattoo on my thigh? It says ‘Mea vita, cor meum, anima mea, et ad procella tangitur meum.’ Do you know what that means?”

“My Laticanis is a little rusty. Something like ‘my life and heart and soul belong to the Stormtouched?” It was hard to ignore the fire in her eyes, inches away from his.

“Close.” Rhee breathed. “It means my life, my heart, my soul, they belong to my Stormtouched. And now I’ve found my Stormtouched. Mine.” She stressed. Her voice dropped to a whisper, her fingers ran along his back as she continued. “I’m going to start moving again. Don’t worry about finishing too soon. I want you to finish soon. Show me how much I turn you on. Show me how much my body pleases you.”

She thrust her hips forward, driving him deep into her. “And then you will go wherever, do whatever your heart desires…” Her fingers dug into his back, pulling him back into her as soon as he slid away, “…and you will take me whenever your heart desires.” She was grinding against him too fast, too hard, and Wylbur dug his hands into the grass behind her. “You will become whatever you desire to become.”

He had felt spent before, and when he exploded a second time inside her the pleasure was so intense it almost hurt. His hips bucked to shove himself deeper into her, and he could feel himself shooting into her body.

“Mine.” Rhee purred as he released into her. “Every drop of it mine.” She held him tightly with one arm, stroking his whispy hair with her other until he grew still. Exhausted, Wylbur moved to roll off of her, but she held him tightly, squirming a bit to remain underneath him. Between the warm sun above and the warm body beneath him, Wylbur felt more tired and content than he could remember feeling in the past twenty years.

“I’m yours, eh?” He chuckled.

“Mine to serve, mine to strengthen.” The soft voice continued as Wylbur drifted off to sleep. “Mine to love, mine to enjoy. My own Sagittari.”

 

5 responses

  1. zeuseus

    “And then you will go whatever your heart desires…” that should be go wherever or do whatever I think

    Like

    2014-08-05 at 8:10 am

  2. Someone’s trying to raise an army…

    Like

    2014-09-14 at 7:09 pm

  3. “That depraived thought that just crossed your mind?”

    Would it be ‘depraved’?

    Like

    2016-03-24 at 12:42 pm

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