Alas, this will be my last submission until mid-August. I will not stop writing, but I will only have restricted Internet access and will not be able to reach the site. Until then, enjoy.
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The group had been on the road for roughly a week. It had taken Phera two days to gather all the useful information about the jewels that was available where they had received the assignment, and one more to pick up a few leads to where the official’s piece had originated from. Part of a matching set, the headband that he had given them a detailed drawing of was made from long strands of braided platinum wire, set with hundreds of tiny rubies and diamonds in an intricate fire pattern. In an inverted teardrop on the front was a large onyx an inch long and a half-inch wide.
It was this description that identified each piece of the set, modified slightly for practicality. To properly copy any of them would require great amounts of wealth and skill, but even then it would seem lacking. They were magically enhanced to shine and sparkle in the smallest amount of light, completely indestructible, and covered in invisible wards that protected both them and the wearer from almost all conceivable dangers.
And, of course, they were all cursed.
Each individual piece had its own curse, and if they were all worn by the same person at the same time, the curses would meld into something that could bring down the strongest of persons. This was why the step-son of the queen for whom the curse had originated had sent each piece as far in every direction as he could.
What Phera had learned from the merchant who had carried the headband into the town in the first place was that this may have included sending them to different planes, making it even less likely that they would ever meet again. She had also learned that the curse placed on the headband would gradually increase the wearer’s creativity in all things sexual while draining it from everything else. Eventually they would have no ideas, no imagination, unless it directly involved sex. They would soon be useless as anything but a slut, given that most of the wearers were trophies with little intelligence or logic to begin with.
The merchant who had sold it to Lord Moline, their current employer, claimed that he had legally obtained the headband from a caravan traveling from the country to the north. Given his reputation, Phera had been convinced otherwise and proceeded to draw out with her teeth the admission that he had had his resident thieves overtake the caravan and remove anything that they felt they could get a decent price for. With less effort than she had expected, she had gotten the thieves properly intoxicated and convinced them to give her a complete, if slightly exaggerated description of the caravan as they boasted of their prowess to the pretty new bar wench.
It had taken a few days to find their trail, and another one to catch up with them. Their scout, Teva, had just spotted the caravan about twenty miles along the road, and they would catch up with them in a few minutes. Those among them with unnaturally good eyesight could see that the caravan had spotted them as well, being in a clear, hilly area, and had begun hiding the valuables and arming themselves. Noting that the caravan was entirely composed of men, Phera stepped out of sight behind Dru and morphed into a less than intimidating form.
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Some of the visible tension that had appeared in the men of the caravan when they had spotted the approaching band dissipated as they stopped about fifty yards short, instead sending an emissary to meet them. A delicate female elf came forward, raising her hands to indicate a peaceful greeting. Not a few lecherous gazes followed her as she stepped into the middle of the band, admiring the fact that she was clad in a trim doeskin tunic that only dreamed of reaching the middle of her smooth thighs. More than one man wanted to twine his fingers through her golden hair, getting a good grip as he ravaged her sweet, full mouth, or her tight little pussy.
At only roughly five feet tall, every man she passed close to made a point to stare down the front of her low-cut top at her perky, apple-sized breasts. Slit to her hips at the skirt and to her sternum at the front, it was obvious to all that she had come along without undergarments, and none of them were complaining.
“My companions and I come in search of information. We mean you no harm, unless you should choose to harm one of ours. Now if you would, please show me to the leader of your group.”
Her rich, melodic voice did little to break the men’s lust, whose ears interpreted it as a voice they would want talking dirty to them. Unfortunately for them, a large, middle aged man with a great sword strapped to his hip had stuck his head out of the back of the only covered wagon in the caravan to see what the commotion was, and announced himself as their leader before the rest of them could start making false claims.
Signaling for the young woman to join him in the semi-privacy of the wagon, he cast a menacing look over his crew, hoping they would take the hint and stop acting like horny teenagers. However, that did not stop him from taking a long look down the front of her tunic as she was aided in climbing into the wagon next to him, it having been made for passengers much taller than her. The guard who boosted her nearly split a seam in his trousers when he caught a glimpse of her wet, unclad femininity, her skirt riding high as she was propelled up.
The battle-scarred old warrior who met her inside fared no better as he was greeted with a longer glimpse of the view, Phera choosing to sit cross-legged on the floor across from him as he introduced himself simply as West.
“So what would a lovely young woman such as yourself, as well as the company you arrived with, want with a simple group or merchants like us? You are not bandits, or you would have taken everything already. Or did you intend to stun us all with your beauty while your friends snuck off with our goods?”
He grinned and gave her a roguish wink, trying to use humor to hide the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and the frequent glimpses at her exposed flesh. She was not fooled for a second, smiling sweetly at the glint in his eyes and the growing wet patch on his crotch, his cock nearly weeping with want. Reaching into her belt for the drawing of the headband, she shifted forwards onto her hands and knees, feigning the need to stretch to hand it to him.
She remained in that position while he unrolled the parchment, glancing back and forth between the picture, her now mostly exposed breasts, and her soft lips that were level with his cock. He nearly moaned as she slowly licked them, giving him a playfully innocent look as he continued to stare, failing to notice that her entire backside was on display to anyone choosing to look into the open end of the wagon.
