The Life Heroic

Prologue 1

Seventeen weeks ago

The first wave of arrows fell short, splashing into the water, giving us hope that we were out of range still and had time to react yet. The second wave flew over our heads and our still-furled sails, proving that they had only been ranging shots. The third wave was when the dying started.

By the sixth wave of impeccably fletched arrows only two of us were still standing: myself and the steersman, Knife-Hand Kerri. She'd got an arrow through her calf and another pinning her hand to the tiller but she was holding on like grim death. I saw that she was pulling us hard to port and figured she had nothing more planned than a doomed, panicked run, not that I had any better idea. Then I saw the fog bank.

I'd been fortunate thus far, having ducked beneath the lip of the railing before the arrows landed, but seeing what she had in mind, hiding wasn't an option if we wanted a hope of survival. I hefted the bosun's body above me as a shield, legs and back burning in protest at his weight, and managed a shuffling stumble over to the nearest rigging.

The Elven archers sighted in on me instantly, spotting the movement on the deck despite their craft being barely more than a smear on the horizon. Creepy point-eared bastards. "Thank ye yet again, Maro," I said to the corpse shielding me as arrows thunked into it repeatedly, for once grateful for my narrow shoulders. He was enough cover that I got to the rigging without being perforated and with a few quick twists the ropes were uncoiled.

The sails unfurled to catch the wind and our vicious little cutter bolted ahead with all the speed Captain Hallstern had so loved to boast about. Fast as the Grasping Wretch was, we'd never have managed to outrun the bloody point-ears, but not even they could shoot us in a fog bank. What we'd do when we came out of the fog, well, I was just happy to have enough of a future to have issues with it; I'd rather buy another hundred heartbeats with sweat and terror than lie down and die. Yet even as we plunged headlong toward the fog, I could swear that it was hurrying hungrily toward us as well.

Chapter 1

Today

Dawn broke on another glorious day. It found me in a bed that was not my own, and it wasn't the light that woke me but my own inherent restlessness. It's the one thing that I don't appreciate about the wizard's gift; it would be nice, now and again, to be able to just relax and rest.

I can't, though, and why focus on the negatives when there are so many delightful positives available? As I shifted, things resolved themselves in my blurry sight. I was looking down at my own muscled form, my cock awake before I was and urging me up, pointing eagerly at the ceiling. Each of my hands was slung around a shoulder and into a delightful softness, and to both sides my hips had lovely plump buttocks pressed up against them. The thick red braid on each head solved the puzzle, though they were facing away from me: the twenty-something twins who worked as the town's apothecaries, Marian and Maryanne.

I wasn't sure how I had gotten there. I knew I had decided to take the day off yesterday, to get thoroughly drunk at the town's single tavern, and clearly I had succeeded. But what had drawn me to the apothecary?

That was a concern for later. For the moment, I was awake and deep consideration was not part of the heroic makeup that had been imprinted upon me; action was. My tendency to just take whatever I wanted was in place well before that, of course, and right then, want didn't begin to cover it. What I needed was a fuck.

I sat up and took a moment to study the two redheads. They really were identical down to almost the smallest details; the small, upturned noses, the pointed chins with demure mouths, the light pink nipples on soft, heavy breasts and freckles that ran from their cheeks down across to their shoulders and chests. Marian, however, had a small mole on her left shoulder blade, and so I knew that it was Maryanne who I was using first that morning.

As an apothecarion, there was of course no shortage of lubricant around, including on the night stand to the side of the bed, and I took a moment to apply some to my painfully hard cock, a shiver running through me at even that touch. When I turned Maryanne on to her stomach with a push to her hip, she gave a little groan of protest. I had no interest in listening to her as I woke up fully. One of my hands palmed the back of her head entirely and before I forced my way inside her, I pushed her face deep into the pillow she'd been sleeping on.

It was just what I needed, warm and tight and unready for me. She woke up making panicked squeals but with her face buried in the down pillow she couldn't get get enough breath to really scream. I didn't help her with that by immediately beginning to pound away, my other hand gripping her hip tightly enough to turn pale skin white and pulling her back into me. Fertility was a large part of what old Thallos had intended for me, and I think he may have gotten a little carried away with the manhood, as while I've not yet met anyone who couldn't handle it, I've also not yet found anyone who could handle it easily.

Maryanne's delicate hands reached behind her to try to push me away, which was just not fucking happening. Without pulling out of her tight-stretched cunt I flipped her over onto her back and forced her legs wide. She was gasping for air, making her chest shake enticingly, pupils dilated wide.

My hard hand slapped her face to the side. "Are you being disobedient?" I asked drowsily, as though it was a real question.

She shook her head, eyes wide. "Of course not, darling, I just-" Another slap cut her off.

"Then be quiet. Anything more out of you and I put the pillow back," I said with a yawn and slammed back in deeply to emphasize my point, resuming a pounding rhythm immediately. She put her hands over her mouth to keep quiet as I gripped her hips tightly and forcing my way into her as deep as I could, pulling her hips toward me with each thrust. It was a nice morning wakeup and didn't last more than a few minutes before I burst, my own groan of release echoing in my deep chest. She was stuffed so full that it leaked out around the sides, and the way her breasts shook as she shuddered in aftershocks was appealing enough that I spent a few more minutes still inside her, slapping and squeezing them and enjoying the way she clenched each time my cock gave a throb within her.

My appetites are heroic, though, and I needed more. I grasped the still-sleeping Marian by the braid and pulled her across the bed. She gave a squawk of surprise before I pushed her face between her sister's breasts. My cock withdrew slowly, dripping with our shared juices, and I gave Maryanne another slap to focus her dreamy-eyed attention on me.

"I don't want to hear her, either. Understand?" She nodded and wrapped her arms around Marian's head, burying her twin's head in the pale pillows of her breasts. I could see that they were looking into each others' eyes as I slammed into Marian, wet enough with her sister's cum that there was little resistance when I forced it immediately in to the base. She shuddered and I took her wrists, holding them behind her, using them for more leverage and ensuring her helplessness.

The way her cunt shuddered as she moaned into her sister's cleavage felt amazing, milking me like a silken vise, and it wasn't long before I poured out another load while leaning forward to share a deep kiss with Maryanne.

"If they're lucky," I reflected as my breathing slowed back down, "they'll be having twins of their own. And who wouldn't want to be the mothers of a hero's children?"

It was as I was finding my pants that Maryanne spoke up. She was cradling her unconscious sister's head against her chest, Marian having made her way back to the land of nod from my treatment. With my fingerprints still white on their skin and their matching raw, leaking pussies, they were absolutely gorgeous. I wished I could have an oil painting of the tableau they made.

"We do have what you asked for, Sir Arum." That pulled me up short with my leather pants half on.

"And that would be?" I asked with a white-toothed smile.

"A potion of lust, Sir," she said and blushed as she continued, eyes on the floor. "Not that I can imagine why you would need one."

"Oh, I'm sure I had my reasons, lovely," I said, finishing lacing up my pants. I didn't see any sign of a shirt and suspected that it may not have made it out of the tavern. "Best I take it to be sure."