Chapter 1

I’m Cuthbert. Niles Cuthbert, marksman and professional letdown. I let down my family when I ran away at age 12 to join the Fighter’s Guild, and I let them down when puberty showed that I would never amount to a frontline mercenary. I was too lanky, too uncoordinated with the sword, and had no mind to even be one of their tacticians, and after four years of failing to meet any of their standards they settled for making me clean the stables. It was only out of sheer boredom when the guild was away on adventures that I discovered my only natural talent lay in the bow, so after two years of dogged determination I became proficient enough with the bow to steal it and set off and make a name for myself.

And, naturally, I was a letdown to myself. After almost dying to a few rats in someone’s basement because I didn’t have the clearance to easily shoot any arrows, I spent my last coin on a secondhand short sword and some chainmail and was lowered to shooting crows off statues for table scraps. I needed a job, but every posting on the notice board would have easily killed me and no adventuring group wanted a fighter who couldn’t fight to save his skin.

And then I had the good fortune--from a certain point of view--to run into the cleric.

I hadn’t sought her out, of course, hers was just another face in the crowd I was ready to ignore and be ignored by, but we had both reached up to grab the same notice and I was hungry enough to be a bit confrontational. I snatched the notice out of her hand but stopped when I got a good look at her: clearly from some far-off land, she had auburn hair, freckles, bright blue eyes, and a button nose, but despite her being here in the western kingdom what caught my attention was her attire. She was wearing a heavy gambeson, quartered in blood red and soft gold colors, with a stylized vertical infinity sign as the sigil on her left breast. That meant she was a cleric of the goddess Freyja, a mysterious order composed entirely of women and surrounded by all manner of horrible rumors. I didn’t know what was real and what was hearsay, but all the rumors had in common was that you did not want to get on a disciple’s bad side. I started to stammer an apology, but she cut me off.

“Hi! I’m Madeline Ziri. Well, not really, but everyone calls me Maddie.” She stuck out a hand for a handshake. “What’s yours?”

“Uh ... Cuthbert,” I responded, trying not to wince as she took my hand in a surprisingly crushing grip for a vigorous shake.

She waited a beat, clearly hoping I would give her a cute nickname, and when I didn’t she continued unabated. “Well hi, Cuthbert! I was just looking for a simple quest to take for lodging money ... most towns at least have one Daughter of Freyja I can stay with, but this is okay.”

It was a pleasant surprise that she hadn’t tried to smite me where I stood, but my rumbling stomach wasn’t interested in niceties. “Sorry to to hear that, but I need this one. You can take that other notice for an exorcism.”

To my surprise, the cleric sheepishly looked away and said, “Normally I would, but I’ve been traveling alone so long that I’m not at my best right now. Freyja is a goddess of love and companionship, so isolation doesn’t suit us. Hey! Why don’t we work together? It’ll be fun.”

I sighed and looked at the paper, it was a job to stop some mercenaries that were making a scene at the tavern on a nightly basis. Only 10 copper for a reward, but there was no way I could take on a band of mercenaries by myself. “You don’t even know how I’d be of any help.”

“Aww, I can see it in you, I’m good with people. Now come on!” Ziri grabbed my wrist with that iron grip and practically dragged me to my very first job as an adventuring group. The Winking Pilgrim was an appropriately dingy tavern for the dingy township of Cridfell, dimly lit and smelling of mildew as the crusty old guard drank their memories away. The overweight barkeep gave the notice a glance, told us to wait about an hour, and promptly ignored us for paying customers. We talked for an hour--or rather, Ziri talked about Freyja while I nodded and watched the door. The party started right around sundown, when the door slammed open and a mountain of a man strode in with the grotesque head of a harpy strung over his shoulder. He slapped it on the counter, splashing blood everywhere and loudly proclaiming to the room that he had personally slain three of the creatures for two gold each so he was clearly going to have the best drinks and food in the tavern. Ziri let out a breath to brace herself and said, “Yep, that’s the guy. I’ll to talk to him, okay?”

I was more than happy to let the cleric be confrontational, and for a second it seemed to be working. She seemed to be giving him a lecture, but when the mercenary shouted something about her being his entertainment for the night and grabbed her on the ass some protective instinct I wasn’t even aware of took over me and I rushed over to give the man a shove. When he turned my direction I got my first up-close look and immediately recognized him: Marcellus, one of the top men in the local Fighter’s Guild and an absolute barbarian of a fighter. And he recognized me, too. “Little Connie? Is that you? Why, we thought one o’ the horses ate ‘cha! Guess I can surprise th’boss by bringing you back for a court martial, might even get t’ pawn your stuff.” Marcellus grabbed me by the scruff of my tunic and threw me bodily into the street, and I stayed down. I learned with his ilk long ago that not being an interesting target usually meant they got bored of you faster.

I looked up to see Marcellus’ drunk, Neanderthal face grinning down at me, but a shout challenged him him from inside the tavern. It was Ziri, who strode outside wielding a one-handed warhammer that had one flat face and one that ended in a curved spike. “The marksman’s with me,” She said, all giggly demeanor gone and replaced with a stone cold determination. Marcellus started to say something about getting to her next, but before he could finish the slurred thought Ziri swung her arm in a backwards windmill, slamming the flat end of the hammer into the man’s testicles so hard even I felt bad for him. Ziri loomed over the downed mercenary, held up the notice, and said, “Marcellus, you are not to trouble this establishment of The Winking Pilgrim again, lest I end your life.”

I scrambled to my feet, grabbed the notice, and for good measure balled it up and forced it into his mouth. Ziri laughed, her good nature back, and clapped me on the shoulder. “Good one, partner. Now I think there’s a whole platter left over we deserve as a down payment. Let’s celebrate!”

~s~ I don’t know if it was the potent drink or the fact that my belly was full for the first time in months, but I was so happy I took the celebration idea to heart. We drank, we sang, we very possibly caused a bigger scene than the one we were hired to stop, and by the end of the night we had the entire tavern following along in some half-remembered song. The barkeep even offered his very last room to us for free, and I was more than willing to let the cleric take it while I slept in the stables again but she hugged me around the waist and insisted that her new partner not sleep outside. I hadn’t been able to tell through the gambeson, but when she hugged me it became immediately apparent that the woman had curves to die for so I didn’t fight much when she pulled me along with her.

The room itself was small, but it had a warm bed and privacy, and the second the door was closed Ziri grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss. A full, wet, drunken kiss filled with a compassion I had never felt from anyone, and I was immediately painfully hard. She looked up at me with hazel eyes--were they always this beautiful?--and said, “Thank you for helping me, Cuthbert. Let me show you how a Daughter of Freyja appreciates her partner.”

Without taking her eyes off mine, Ziri reached down and quickly untied the drawstrings on my trousers, allowing her to reach inside and pull out my raging manhood. “Ooo, bigger than I expected,” she giggled, giving my shaft a tentative stroke that sent shivers all over my body. I had been in such a funk that I stopped bothering to even masturbate, so I was completely backed up and ready to pop at her slightest touch. Ziri could tell this and let go, guiding me to sit down on the bed while she removed her gambeson and kneeled down in front of me. Some tiny fraction of my mind that that wasn’t drunk or horny was telling me that all this was too good to be true, but that voice was drowned out by the sight of the cleric.

She was marveling at my cock, stroking it with just the tip of one finger while it twitched and dribbled precum. “Such a pretty little thing,” Ziri sighed to herself before looking up at me with a devilish grin. “I bet you’d like me to stop teasing, mmm?” All I could manage was a whimper, so while keeping her eyes locked with mine Ziri lowered her head and swallowed my cock.

How I didn’t immediately cum, I’ll never know. I could feel my glans bobbing into the back of her throat, and despite the gagging and tears Ziri never looked away from me. She held that position for a moment, the gentle squeezing of her gag reflex almost becoming a comfort before she started to move her head. She came all the way up, stopping to lick the precum off the tip before diving back down to the base in long, slow strokes while her tongue worked the entire shaft.

Ziri was prepared to take her time, but the technique was so perfect that I barely lasted a few strokes before my body convulsed in a rocking orgasm. Easily one of of the best I’ve ever had, and when my vision cleared I saw Ziri still diligently sucking on the head. She grinned at me, tilted her head back, and swallowed the entire load, tracing a line down her throat and humming with satisfaction. “Oh yes, it has been far too long for me. And such a big serving, too! How generous of you, Cuthbert.”

“Heh. You’re welcome, Ziri.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, clearly taking pleasure from my voice. “Mmm, say my name again.”

I leaned forward a bit, trying to be sexy. “Ziri, that was amazing.”

She kissed me again, only this time I noticed the kiss was much harder, and when she pulled away her eyes had a ravenous hunger I hadn’t seen before. “Cuthbert, I need more. Please, please give me more.”

“I’d love to, Ziri, but I can’t go again so soon.”

“Oh yes you can!”

The cleric playfully pushed me onto my back, pulled my pants down, and began working my flaccid penis with a sweet-smelling oil she pulled out of some pocket. “Don’t worry, Freyja teaches us many secrets to pleasure. Now breathe deep.” I did, confused but willing, and yelped when a sudden pressure wiggled into my asshole. She was fingering me! I tried to push her off, but the wench pinned me down with that deceptive strength of hers. “Trust me, Cuthbert! Just relax!” I wasn’t interested in relaxing anymore, but suddenly my back arched and an involuntary moan escaped my lips. Ziri had pressed against something inside me that was sending out waves of pleasure throughout my body with a shocking intensity, and she was clearly enjoying herself.

“There’s your prostate! And so sensitive, I love it!” I looked down to see Ziri with a triumphant smile on her face while she fingered my ass with one hand and stroked my now fully-erect member with the other. I was almost scared of how good it felt. Satisfied, the maiden pulled me up to my feet and got on the bed herself, pulling down her trousers just a bit to present a full, plump mound and a pair of wonderful curves for hips. “Now I need you to fuck my pussy, and fuck it deep. Please, Cuthbert!”

I was only too happy to oblige, and my dick slid into her like a familiar glove that elicited a happy moan from Ziri. The actual sex was brief but intense, my fingers digging into her soft waist hard enough to leave welts and our rhythmic grunting loud enough to wake the dead. I wanted to make sure I was satisfying Ziri as thoroughly as she was myself, but I couldn’t stop thrusting long enough to think of any special tricks and she never stopped moaning to ask. We fucked for a few minutes without changing from the doggy style position, and as I was nearing my limit the cleric stood up and twisted her head around to give me a sloppy kiss as we both came together. Actually cumming inside a woman felt so good that my legs buckled and I fell over Ziri, but any panic I felt was erased when she burst into laughter. The cleric helped me to my feet and we both finally finished getting undressed before flopping into bed and passing out.

I awoke the next morning to a killer hangover and a tangle of soft flesh on my chest. It took a second, but when the memories of the night before came trickling back I broke into a wide smile. Money, food, sex with a beautiful woman, last night almost made the past few years of misery totally worth it. And it was all thanks to the cleric snoring gently on top of me right now. I quietly nudged her her to the side so I could finally look at her entirety in a new, sober light: a slope of hills and valleys traced Ziri’s curves down her body, from the shoulders framing perky tits to the dip of her hourglass waist, coming back up for luscious thighs and--

“Oh holy shit!” I shouted, knocking myself out of bed and rocking the cleric awake with a fist held ready in the air.

“Freyja’s tits, what’s wrong!?”

“The sex last night!” I shouted, finally realizing what I had done. “I hadn’t taken an infertility potion. Oh damnit, I am so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, Cuthbert! I told you, I have full control over that, courtesy of Freyja,” Ziri said, gently guiding me back onto the bed. I tried to think back to the tavern stakeout, she had said something about body control but I hadn’t been listening.