The Breeder Mage
Copyright© 2026 by Duncan Mickloud
Chapter 9: Doggy Troubles
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 9: Doggy Troubles - A horny mage travels from place to place, living several lifetimes. A man dies from an accident and wakes up mysteriously on a backwards world. A devotee of a naughty God, he enjoys another life there as a mage. He is nursed back to life by a girl, and she has her way with him. He is unable to fend her off. She, her sisters, and her mother use him for months until he is well enough to leave. He leaves them with three babies. There follows other adventures and women. 10 chapters. Apx. 3-hour read
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft Coercion BiSexual Fairy Tale High Fantasy Historical Restart Science Fiction Extra Sensory Perception Magic Sharing
“OUT!”
When I caught Morwenn the Ravager wolf pup peeing, I zapped her ass, and from the howls, he would not soon forget the experience. Of course, I banished Podilla and Morwenn from my wagon for the entire day and the next night, too. Morwenn was absolutely banned from the wagon.
They both got the cold shoulder for several days after that. Every other morning or so, I would take my bow and go back a ways to see if I could get a deer. As often as not, I would get one. It supplied enough meat for us and the pup. As we traveled, I would look for likely spots to get another deer on the way.
It took me a while to get over my anger over the whole situation. I looked young, but I was really an old geezer in my head. I am set in my ways. The Ravager pup was just too big an imposition on me.
In talking with the caravan master, I decided to move all the way to the rear. That way, it was easier for me all the way around. The pup was a source of grumbling by people close to my wagon. I did not blame them. I grumbled too. This way, we were away from the oxen and the occasional passing horse.
We were effectively banished from the caravan. We trailed it and stayed back when it stopped. If it circled up, we remained outside of the protective circle. I got madder and madder as we traveled further.
I was unhappy with Podilla. I did not see this as a viable way of life. Everyone thought it was a dangerous animal. I agreed with them. I did not want to spend my life defending my right to have a Ravager Wolf, an animal I don’t even want.
Fuck! I hadn’t wanted the damn thing in the first place. Now I have to dedicate hours each week to hunting so she can feed the fucking thing?
I was sleeping alone. That really had me pissed off.
At the next town, I fired her and paid her off. I was seriously done with both bitches.
We had talked. Podilla said, “The puppy needs me. You only want me. For all intents and purposes, I am Morwenn’s mother now.”
I would have kept Podilla with me for years. I drove from that town to the next town alone. I know I was a Grumpy Gus, so I kept to myself. I missed Podilla, and so did the mules. I had no idea how she would care for the wolf. Not my problem, not my wolf. I felt guilty, but Podilla had made her decisions; now she must live with them.
Eleven days later, I pulled into another town, Green Pines. I left the caravan and took a break from my traveling. I have been unhappy with the road for over a month now. I know it was mostly Podilla’s fault, but the joy was gone from traveling. I rented a place that had a front room that was just right for a business.
In one hour, I had it magically cleaned out of dirt and vermin. I used light bombs to kill any spiders or mites in the place. The wind I called up pushed the detritus out the back door.
I soon had my wagon emptied. I left the wagon in the alley behind my place. I put the mules up at a stable two blocks away.
For a couple of days, I fiddled around getting my place set up. I ate out in the evenings. I fed myself breakfast. I went to a place that serves meat pies at midday; they use a puffy pastry like phyllo dough. It’s filled with potato pieces, carrot bits, onion bits, and chopped meat. The meats vary from day to day. It’s juicy, spicy, and always delicious because it changes so often.
Green Pines has one thing that sets it apart from most towns. It has many apple and pear orchards. Different orchards come into season at different times of the year. There are several varieties of apples and pears. They ripen at different times of the year and are good for different things.
This means that most of the year, cider is usually available. Pear cider and cider blends are both tasty. Of course, there is alcoholic Apple Jack all the time. I like it a lot. I had never developed a taste for mead or the bitter ales created here.
The richest man in town owns a distillery where they turn apple mash into Apple Brandy. One brandy is called First Cut, and the other is called Double Cut. First Cut is distilled one time. It makes applejack stronger-tasting and longer-lasting. It usually has to be sweetened with honey. Double Cut is double-distilled and is much smoother on the taste buds.
I fell right in love with what Green Pines has to offer in the way of libations. Besides the brandies, they also have a local red tea I like; it has a spicy aroma and a little burn on the tongue, like pepper.
Double Cut brandy is usually sold in shot glasses. The Single Cut is sold in 4-ounce glasses. Neither brandy is cheap. Making the copper stills and running them is not cheap.
The drinks come in ‘glasses,’ but they’re not made of actual glass. What passes for a glass here is actually a type of crockery of similar size and shape. It’s more like off-white earthenware.
There are cottage industries in town that support the apple and pear businesses here. Some make ciders. Several make the applejack. Then there are over a dozen coopers constantly making kegs and barrels. The wood cutters stay busy supplying wood for the stills.
One man and his helpers make small earthenware bottles. These are for the Single Cut and Double Cut brandies. Single Cut comes in a square, blue-tinted bottle. Double Cut is placed in a round bottle with a flat bottom. It has a green tint. The bottles are all handmade. Both earthenware bottles are delicate.
I had put up my medico sign. It shows a head with a ragged-looking bandage. Next to the head is a needle and thread. It was not long after putting it up that I started to get a trickle of customers.
Sandda:
Sandda hated her job. Sandda worked at the bathhouse, where most of the town came to take a bath. Many men who visit do not bathe daily; these men bathe very irregularly.
Sandda did not understand what it meant to be dirty most or all of the time. Personally, she loved being clean. It was the main benefit of her working at the bathhouse.
It was the men’s dirty hands that really bothered her. People like to touch her in her private places. This is not that kind of business, and they are not supposed to touch her. She is what you would call a big girl. Her melons stick right out there, and men and women can’t seem to leave her melons alone as she bathes them. The other girls don’t have this big a problem as Sandda has. They are not big up top, like she is.
Customers get on a table, and she uses soapy water and a thick cloth to wash their bodies. The customer then turns over, and she washes the other side. After you have washed a dozen people, it becomes a boring, unpleasant job.
It’s the pinching and squeezing of her melons that Sandda despises the most. There is something that makes them all want to check her melons for ripeness. They actually say that when they grab her melons.
They seem like they have to touch her for some reason. Everyone is just too rough. They all want to test her melons’ firmness, and they pinch or squeeze her. Her job is to wash men and women, not to be tortured or fondled by rude, nasty customers.
She gets asked for by name because of her melons. The other girls get a lot more women to bathe, who are generally nicer as customers.
Sandda’s melons do stick out there a way. Being a washing lady means she has to be topless. She has to do a good job, and she’s constantly getting soaked, so she wears only a brief wraparound skirt. That’s the uniform here.
Sandda recently gained a good customer who always leaves her a handful of coins as a tip. He never touches her melons. He is quiet spoken and kind to her. Many people treat her rudely, but not her favorite customer. He strangely never seems to get hard. He amazes her because he always talks to her quietly and calmly. He is odd in that way.
One of the first things they taught her here was how to wash a man’s penis well. Just getting close to one makes the things firm up enough that washing one is easier. You pull the loose skin down and gently wash around the tip. It is important to keep that part very clean.
But no more!
Most men get handsy at that point. When they get very hard, many want more than she’s willing or allowed to give.
They can never get more. There are three houses in town where women get paid to do things like that. It is forbidden for bathhouse employees to steal business from the bawdy-houses. If a girl gets caught doing that, even if just a hand job, one of those women will come for her. No! Hand-jobs or more are strictly forbidden.
The other issue is that bathing is supposed to take only a few minutes. Customers are being washed solely so they can visit one of the warm pools to soak. That way, the pools stay cleaner. Most customers will not bathe adequately; that’s why they need to be bathed by an attendant. They are not trustworthy and would soon foul the soaking pools.
There are only two washers here. Taking time to jerk a man off would screw up the flow of customers.
It is hard work bathing several customers per hour. It’s Hot, sweaty, and tiring. Add the handsy customers, and it’s getting to be too much for Sandda to deal with. She is at wits’ end over her situation.
Some Sandda come here every other day so their clothes get washed while they bathe. Some take long soaks in the pools.
There is one odd thing about her favorite customer. He does not have the short, ugly penis that most men have.
One time, Sandda was daydreaming while she washed him. She had dwelled on his penis while washing, he got hard that day. It’s almost a three-hands long, and half the diameter of her forearm when she washed it ... and Sandda has a good size forearm!
He is also a Master Mage. She can see his staff with its glowing red head standing nearby him. The staff does not rest on the wall or in a corner. No, it stands there balanced at attention, waiting, as if it were alive. That’s so odd. The other thing is when he gets up to leave, he reaches his hand out, and the staff pops into his hand like he’d called it to him.
She realized her mind had gone elsewhere; she had been washing one part too long. The mage was moaning in her hands. Her crotch had an itch and felt oddly damp. The mage is staring at her.
“I’m so sorry, Master. My mind seemed to wander.”
Oh no. He had slowly moved his hand under my wrap and somehow knew right where to go. He touched me for a second, and my legs grew weak as I quietly moaned. I stood there, shaking, as he touched me for just a moment, and I felt such bliss. Whatever was that?
“Ohhhhh ... Master!”
Someone knocked at my door; my next customer was here. I changed washcloths and buckets. He stood as I rinsed the soap off him. He pressed my tip into my hand as he went out the door to the pools. It was a large silver!
I opened the door for my next customer.
Ed
I did not know the very big washer lass’s name. She looked to be around 15 local years, but she had obviously spaced out while washing my cock. She has a very sensitive mind. I had been the one to make her spaced out.
I did it to her at the point she had begun washing my cock. She’s always delicate with her hands; she had easily excited me close to the point of my cumming.
She has a very voluptuous body for her young age. Her tits are a DD if I have ever seen a D. They are extremely large for around here. She is maybe 5’ 7” and has soft, warm skin. She is a large woman compared to 95% of the other locals ‘Here’.
I had felt her pussy, and it was large and full-bodied as well. As I left, I gave my finger a lick. Very nice.
I don’t think she knows what she does to her customers. Her touch is so soft and delicate, and she doesn’t seem body-shy. The other bath girls stay at arm’s length. She rubs against you with her tummy and sides as she works. I think she is unaware of what she does to her customers. She is very popular.
It only took me a moment to put my hand under the towel she had around her waist. I found her clit right where I knew it would be. She had not seen me wet my finger. It took just moments to get her off; she’s extremely sensitive.