Before I was a cleric, I was a bandit in service to the Bandit Queen Vilagro. I don't remember much from when I was a kid, but I do remember that I once fell out of a carriage, which was then attacked by a group of bandits. They looted the whole thing, even the clothes. They did not leave... survivors. They were bandits, after all. They did some bad stuff to the ones they stole from.
I was a child who fell out of a carriage in the middle of a magical forest at night. The carriage was gone, and my family was likely gone. I remember some lights and sounds that could have been some magical creature trying to eat me, but a wizard found me, and brought me to a village where I grew up. His name was Moel, and he was old, like old-old, ancient. He was pretty much a raisin with a strikingly black beard. Then he died. I remembered that part because it was my first experience with death, other than my family who I could not remember fondly.
After Moel was gone, I was by myself, but many other kids lived there the same. I always wondered why nobody ever visited our town to trade things like I had seen merchants do in the cities. We did have a troupe of adventurers that ventured out though, and they often came back with satchels full of goods, clothing, and treasures. This sustained the village, and kept everyone fed. I was spoiled by a comfort of living that became obvious later. This was not a standard village. This was the home of the Bandit Queen.
As a child, I remembered her as the most beautiful woman of the village. Even the scars on her skin were beautiful. She wore a lot of leather, showing a lot of skin, especially the scars. I grew up watching her age, but never lose a single bit of that striking beauty. In the end, or rather into my adolescence, I was in love with her much like a lot of other boys and men in the village. She was the queen, and we were her loyal subjects, and for a Bandit Queen, that meant being bandits ourselves.
Once I was old enough to hold a sword without my arms shaking from the weight, I joined the raiding party. I saw myself as a warrior of justice under her wing. We stole from the rich, but we did more than just steal. I knew a life of killing, and did some of it myself along with the other guys. I was young, and they were all pumped up by Vilagro, someone they could not sleep with unless she requested them.
I was never requested. I was too small for her, was the gist of it. That's what the other guys said, at least. They were really fun to hang out with, spending money on drinks and women, gambling and teaching me how to open locks and undo women's blouses single-handedly, sometimes right in front of me. They were living the life, and brought me along to experience it with them, all in the employ of Vilagro. I could talk about my bandit days for a long time, and detail all the things we did, but I'll save those parts for another day.
I did find my way back from villainy and debauchery, though still managed to get some of it done later. What better place for a thief to go but somewhere nobody knew of the stealthy ways? I could be king alone in the castle, running around naked with the crown on my erection, pooping in corners, and singing a bard's delight of raunchy tales featuring milkmaid's bosoms betwixt my lips. I often dreamed of Vilagro in longing. I was certain the other guys did the same, though they could always go fuck some women at the brothels. I was still too young to join them, but everything changed when I was called to Vilagro's chambers one night, right after I was old enough for brothels.
I was confused. I was certain my thing was too small for her because of what the guys told me. As soon as I was eighteen, and I could go into brothels, I had taken to doing a lot of other things for the girls to fill the shoes of other men they had been with. I used my fingers, my tongue, and my lips. They were tools of my inadequate size; all spurred on by older guys who went between plundering nobles and favoring the one girl at the brothel that looked the most like Vilagro.
I ended up becoming the Bandit Queen's favorite bedroom toy soon after the brothels allowed me to partake. It was a dream come true, seeing as the thoughts of her naked body over my bed kept me awake at night growing up.
I knew she liked it when I stuck my tongue into her asshole the most. She would rub herself off furiously while my tongue danced wildly in the tight wrinkles of her sphincter. She kept it reasonably clean, as if there had been many who licked there before me, but none as gently as me.
She would often climax and sit over my face dripping over my chin and neck. Sometimes, I joined her in masturbating and came all over the scars on her naked chest, the concoction taking a mountain path down her rugged muscles. She rubbed it into the skin like a lotion.
I had the sounds of her delight in my ears to such an extent that I dreamed of having sex with her from the other position, one where I was in control. It was unlikely to happen, but I wanted her to take me into her mouth just once as she did so often in my dreams.
Before long, Vilagro stopped me from joining her for the raids. She demanded I stay back at the village and be ready upon return. I was being kept as an item, and Vilagro would return covered in blood, only to sit on my face and grind against my head until she came, sometimes almost drowning me as she relieved herself after finishing. Even if that was my life, I was hard every second of being with her, but she never got me off in return except once.
I wanted to be mad at the thought, one day just change positions and slam myself inside her pussy as a surprise, or into her mouth, or even her asshole, but I knew she could kill me in an instant. I felt used, and discarded. I wanted it to stop, to run away. I wanted to take from her, just as I took from nobles we used to raid. I did not delight in it as much as the other guys, but it was a good break from the ladies in the brothels who welcomed so many various dicks that it was increasingly difficult for someone of my size to enjoy myself. Nothing tighter than a rich pussy or asshole, as the guys used to say.
Now, I know what you might be thinking. This man is the luckiest guy to get to touch the essence of true beauty in the world, to be chosen and kept as a prize, but I genuinely missed the adventuring and thieving of the raiding, the banditry. I kept suggesting for Vilagro to take me raiding again, even just as her raid fuck toy, but eventually it angered her so much that she had me thrown into the dungeon beneath the tavern. She sometimes held important people there to trade for ransom.