This is a major rewrite of the first version of the story. Basically, everything except the beginning has been rewritten. I hadn't thought out much of how the world worked before I started writing, so this is an attempt to make it a little more internally consistent and to explain how the magic works.
*
Crossing the trading post's compound, I was quietly fuming to myself. I've told them and told them I don't mind guiding parties through the Moonrock Mountains, but not this early in the season, and not mage lords. The high passes aren't completely clear, there's the risk of late storms, and mage lords are some of the most unruly undisciplined people I have ever met. They think their magic makes them superior to everybody, so I knew I was going to have problems with them. They also tended towards physical attractiveness in all its varieties, So with being short, generally scruffy looking, and balding, they tended to treat me as a dullard menial. That's a mistake most of them make only once.
I walked up to the group, and oh lord, it's a traveling circus. There can be no way they are planning on packing all that gear through the mountains. I walked up and, "Good afternoon. I'm Lars Haroldson, your guide"
One of the three men, a tall blonde, looked down his nose at me and sneered, "It's about time you got here. You need to get us packed. Where are the rest of the servants? And the pack animals?"
"Listen, I'm your guide, not your servant. My one and only job is to find a safe route through the mountains for you. How you pack and move your gear is up to you. If you don't have enough pack horses, you're going to have to leave a lot here, because I'm sure not carrying it."
"Why you insolent ..."
At which the second man, slightly shorter than the first, with black hair, interrupted, "My apologies. We failed to completely comprehend our responsibilities for this trip. Be assured, we will be ready by tomorrow morning."
"Now for introductions," he continued, "I am Roland McDaniels, this," nodding to the first man, "is my brother William McDaniels, and," gesturing, "these are my cousins Andrew and Selene McElroy."
"Great", I thought to myself, a polite mage lord. They're the worst kind. They are very good at getting close, and then sliding the knife into your back.
I noticed he did not introduce the last member of their party. A young woman; short and petite, with big blond hair, huge bust, tiny waist, and bubble butt. A teenage boy's wet dream. She had what would have been vivid blue eyes is it weren't for the look of hopelessness and despair in them.
When I came out the next morning they were still packing. They seemed to have pared down the gear to something manageable, still excessive, but manageable. The three men were packing, while the girl was brushing out Selene's hair.
We finally got the show on the road around mid day, a good three to four hours later than I wanted. We had no way enough transport. They had eight pack horses, and for the amount they were carrying they should have had twelve or more. We were going to be slow, and have problems with the horses breaking down. I could just picture us getting caught in a late storm in one of the passes.
That evening we made camp where most groups would have been halting for a mid day meal. From what I had seen so far, this was one group where I was determined to keep the formal separation between myself and them. Usually, I mingle with the group and share supplies with them, but this group was going to be trouble. Simple prudence dictated that I keep my distance from them. I ended up setting up my myself about thirty feet from them with my own fire and shelter.
Watching them, from the corner of my eye, just increased my already existing concern. It was obvious that none of them was used to being on the trail without servants, and had no idea what needed doing.
After their meal, Selene came up to me and said, "You will be sharing my bed tonight. Yes"
"Wasn't planning to. I have my own shelter that I was planning to use."
"Then who will keep me company tonight?" Bending down to display her assets, I'm a healthy woman with strong urges. I need a real man to keep me satisfied"
"Can't really say ma'am, but I make it a policy not to sleep with the clients. And you can just call me limp pencil dick"
She turned back to their tent muttering to herself. Not that I have a pencil dick, but that's usually the easiest way to get a lady to leave me alone. Get them convinced I won't be able to satisfy them. I'll admit, it was a little difficult to turn her down with statuesque, voluptuous, red haired beauty; but I managed. Besides my policy of not sleeping with clients, I felt there was something off about her. I would be safer sticking my dick in a sausage grinder than letting her get her claws into me.
That night I heard noises from their tent, Chocked gagging, sobs, and muffled whimpers. Along with phrase like, "Take it bitch. Suck on this. Cum dump." Something was soon pushed out the door of the tent and I walked over to see what it was. It was the girl, curled up and sobbing to herself.
Cursing myself as a fool for getting involved in something I shouldn't, I picked her up and took her over to my fire and wrapped her in a blanket. Filling a mug I handed it to her and asked, "Tea? Would you like something to eat?"
She grasped the mug, took a sip, and nodding her head said, "Yes, please, to both."
After finishing her meal and tea she looked at me and trembled, "Do, do you want me to suck your cock now?"
I blinked, "The correct question is, do you want to suck my cock? And somehow, I think the answer is no. So not tonight, maybe some other time."
She got a look on her face, and then grabbed my jacket sobbing, "I just wish I could die."
I picked her up, still sobbing, and set her on my lap, just holding her. She fell asleep, quietly sobbing in my arms, and I looked at her more closely. An absolutely gorgeous girl, if you like them that small. But then, looking closer, "What's this?" I thought. "That collar doesn't belong here." Setting her down, I went to my pack and returned with a small tool kit. I made a few minor adjustments to the collar, and then put Kira back on my lap where she continued her troubled slumber. Shortly before dawn I roused myself, and put Kira back in front of the tent. She woke and looked at me. I held by finger to my lips, indicating to be quiet, and she nodded. Somehow, we both knew it would be even harder on her if the others knew I had shown her any small mercys.
The next few days continued as the first with one addition. Several times a day, one of the men would grab the girl and disappear for a few minutes. He would come back with a gloating smirk on his face. The girl would then come stumbling back, sobbing to herself.