Topic: The Continent of Lutetia: setting, F wanted

[Hypersigils]

Summary: high fantasy, sexually-themed roleplay continent.
Plaintext: here's a fun place with dynamic stuff. RP with me here if you want, or do it on your own/with other people. No strings attached. Just put [Lutetia] in the title so I can link it back here and build a better world.



The History of Lutetia: produced 265

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Most histories start around year 0, so named since no records exist before that point. We shall offer one interpretation of the events that may have led to that point.

Prehistory (? – 0)

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About 80 years before written records begin, a vast battle destroyed most inhabitants of Lutetia. It’s clear that civilization existed before that point; ruins are dotted all over the continent, most in severe states of disrepair. Some notable exceptions exist: the city of Arkay, mostly intact, the city of Essyl, half-rebuilt, and the forgotten cities of Krolor, Xynd and Ankh. These last three are mostly known from legend and rumor, as the Dead Man’s Land is insufficiently explored. Those few who return from their voyages in the Sea of Bones recount tales of huge, spiraling cities full of soulless demons and the living dead—and horrors yet more fearful. The powers lurking in these dark places are capable of enslaving minds; more than one exploring party has found itself torn apart from the inside. The very first explorers may yet remain, slaves to unknown forces. The Lemure are desperate to have their kin returned; any brave enough to sneak into these ancient ruins will encounter great dangers and greater rewards.
Whatever the reason for the battle, voyagers found the continent mostly uninhabited when they landed in year 0. “Landed” may be an inappropriate description; it’s more accurate to say the voyagers were shipwrecked on Lutetia. What records do exist of their voyage say there were a total of nineteen exploratory ships sent by decree of a far-off kingdom’s Lord Palos, but only five ever landed. The exploratory journey found its way into a hell of still waters and languished for months; when the survivors reached land, they were only too happy to abandon their chances of returning home. Their ships, like their home, have been lost to the ages.
Written records truly begin at these voyagers’ arrival. According to the texts, a total of 860 people survived the first winter on Lutetia. They settled, adjusted, made do with what they could salvage from their boats and began to spread outwards.

Age of Expansion (0 – 396)

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For quite some time, these newcomers seemed to have the entire continent to themselves. They lived mostly nomadically at first, expanding through the vast rainforests that surround the Bay of Palos. Early explorers traveled North, West and South: in each location they found only more opportunity. Unfortunately for those traveling north, a particularly hard winter (the Ice Age of 0-120) had hidden the river connecting the Sea of Lute to the Bay of Palos. When the ice melted, they were cut off from their brethren for quite some time. In this way what we now know as the Imperium grew in isolation.
The easiest places to expand to, of course, were the most heavily forested. Because of this, expansion into the Desert of Dust, the Baravian Desert and the Great Plains didn’t occur for quite some time. By its height, the expansion spanned from Kenner, to Kabol, to Mount Cilia, to Nemria, to Lysia. The Imperium grew to include Imperius, Sanctity, and Vigilant. And in the year 396, these boundaries pushed out just a bit too far.

The Contact Wars (396 – 400, 397 – 399, 396 – Present Day)

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Three factions existed just outside the Expansion’s borders: the Lemure, the Elves, and the Orcs.

Lemure
The Lemure are the remnants of Lutetia’s original inhabitants. Whereas the voyagers who landed in year 3 (henceforth referred to as “Palites”) are usually fair-skinned, light-haired and brawny, the Lemure are dark-skinned, lithe and black or red-headed. The first contact between Lemure and Palite peoples occurred almost simultaneously in the Grand Plateau and the Isle of the Sun; the two entered into a shaky ceasefire that collapsed the second the Palites tried to expand their borders south of Mount Hadros. The war that followed was long, bloody, and left no real victor. A peace treaty was signed in 101 and a somewhat successful accord has existed between the two peoples to this day. Trade and travel is allowed between the two, which has turned the Lemure city of Essyl into a bustling hub of trade.
One exception to the peace exists: the Isle of the Sun had no such close-fought battle. Aided by The Wind, a natural, gigantic rocky moat, the Lemure inhabiting the Isle easily repelled any and all attacks. The island remains to this day under Lemure control and a complete mystery to other peoples. Those who do manage to set foot on the Isle never return.
Perhaps with the full force of the Palite people, the Lemure would have been an easy foe. But just a year after the initial conflict with the Lemure, small towns and villages, as well as exploratory parties, began to completely disappear west of Mount Cilia. Full platoons were sent in and found the perpetrators: Elves.

Elves
Elves are deceptively thin and frail-looking. Despite seemingly weak, they possess a natural grace that rivals the most skilled Palite dancers. They have long, angular faces and a pair of sharply pointed ears. The initial Palite word for them, “Ralmen,” means “Deadly Beautiful.” The conflict between Elves and Humans was extremely bloody but short. After a year elven diplomats made an accord with Palite leaders: in reparations for the villages they’d ambushed, the Elves would surrender their closest city. Travel past Elym would not be permitted. Eager to end this second conflict taxing their nation, the Palites agreed. Elym, the westernmost Human city, is the only one of its kind. Home to architecture and populace of both Elves and Humans, it’s the central trading hub between the two civilizations. Due to such close proximity, tensions between races often run quite high—though the city is segregated by choice, interaction between Elves and Humans is common. And love knows no boundaries; rare couplings between the two races do exist, though both partners are almost always ostracized for their transgression.
The Duke of Elym, tired of racial prejudice, has put out a call for members of Human nobility to enter into arranged “marriages” with noble Elves. These accords last a minimum of one month long, after which they can be terminated at will. His hope, however, is that some may find more than just diplomatic opportunity…

Orcs
The third contact war was until 247 a complete mystery to most Palites, even though it’s been the largest, longest and deadliest war in history. The Imperium found a new race at their doorstep, too: the bestial Orcs, who harness great strength at the expense of higher thinking. They seem almost piglike, with tusks and squashed noses and ugly faces. If anything, they are the opposite of Elves: violent, predictable, burly, vicious, intensely strong and fierce—but just as dangerous, if not more.
The Imperium was lucky; their army was confronted head-on under their terms, in their new city of Indomitable. Otherwise, there might never have been an Imperium to rejoin their Palite brothers. The first assault was hard, fast and deadly, but the Orcs were repelled at long last. The Imperium, aware of how dangerous this new race was, quickly built up their defenses and took hold of the Isthmus between the Sea of Solitude and the Gilded Sea. Many battles since then have taken place between the Imperium and the Orcs, but to this day no Imperium cities have been lost… though no ground has been gained, either. The war between Orcs and the Imperium shows no sign of stopping, and neither side seems likely to concede. Predictably at least one battle takes place each two months, and that pattern has continued since 396 with one ten-year break in 506-516.

Reconnection and the Imperium’s Dominion (508 – 514)

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A brief respite beginning in year 506 left the Imperium with a problem: what were they to do with their standing armies? War production was in overdrive but with no one to fight, soldiers began to cause their own unrest. Perhaps it was good fortune, then, that the western Palites finally caught up with their separated brothers. With nowhere else to expand to, they had tentatively traveled north and, finding the Great Plains inhospitable, continued their curve east. There they found the city of Imperius, and with much joy reconnected the two empires. The emperor of Imperius, Marcus Blackhawk, saw the clear opportunity to expand his dominion and in 254, did so.
The Imperium took Lysia and Kabol by force before the Palite people, still recovering from the contact wars, could properly react. With the two major trading hubs of Lutetia captured, the rest were quick to follow. The continent is now almost fully under the Imperium’s control, with mixed results: those in high positions of power find their status upheld, but the poor and middle-class have found their lives made much more difficult. There is no mercy in the Imperium, which believes in a harsh system of “survival of the fittest.”
Many unfortunate people have been forced into debt in the Imperium’s reign. These debtors invariably resort to odd jobs and borrowing to keep themselves afloat—and in severe circumstances may end up as servants to their collector.
There is one last stronghold, however. The Lemure people, eager to destabilize the Imperium’s Dominion, opened the Isle of the Sun to refugees and war criminals. Several attempts have been made to storm the island and take it for the Imperium, but none have succeeded and after 516, when the Orcish attacks resumed, the Imperium hasn’t tried to cross The Wind again.

 
The Culture of Lutetia

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Religion

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The Elves do not worship gods; instead, they revere nature in all its forms. To them the ultimate worship is simply ensuring its growth.
The Lemure are not a very religious people, but there is one god they’ve been known to worship: Hector, the god of luck and chance. Often depicted as a pair of knucklebone dice, this god has no temples. It’s not hard to detect a worshiper: followers of Hector compulsively kiss a gold coin before entering into any major (or luck-based) deals.
The Palite gods are many, but five gods stand at the front of the pantheon. Leta, goddess of love and fertility; Avacyn, genderless god of travel; Lute, god of violence; Shaw, goddess of nature. Leta has many temples spread across Lutetia, while Avacyn’s places of “worship” are taverns and inns spread just as widely. Lute simply tells his followers to kill, and followers of Shaw pray at travelers’ cairns. Their symbols are a breast, a walking stick, a bloody sword and a tree, respectively.
The Imperium only follows one god: Arceus, god of honor and battle. His symbol is a shield. Considered the one true god by his worshipers, other religions have been harshly persecuted under the Imperium’s rule. Traveling groups of priests known as the Pure Legion force “heathens” to convert, or die, though many Palites still adhere to the religions of their forefathers. The Legion’s influence is most keenly felt closest to Imperius; the farther from the Imperium’s center, the more freely different religions are worshiped.
Those caught openly worshiping “foreign gods” are seized by the Legion and forced to repent through a series of punishments intended to drive lust from the impure.
Only Leta’s followers have mostly escaped this persecution, though near Imperius it’s still wise to be quiet about one’s religion. Festivals of Leta occur twice a year, in cities all around Lutetia. Called “fertility celebrations,” their content can be easily surmised. Most major cities have a temple of Leta where worshipers come to have their troubles eased. With many worshipers and temples in almost every major city, the church of Leta has a great deal of power.

The Untamed Wilds

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Expansion has rendered most of the continent of Lutetia predictable and safe, but areas exist free of human influence. The Frozen Wastes and Great Plains are so inhabitable that no successful cities have ever been raised in them; stories tell of huge and terrible beasts that kill all adventurers entering such a dangerous place. Uninhabited by both Elves and men is the Isle of Dragons, populated by its namesake. The Elves seem to have an accord with the powerful beasts but there’s no such agreement for the Palites so people tend to stay clear or end up dead.
In tales it’s said dragons and stranger things sometimes have need of human aid, slaves, or even mates. Villages close to the wilder parts of the world often pay tribute to powerful monsters in the form of virgin captives. What happens to these offerings is unknown.

Magic

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Divine magic has existed since there were gods to worship. Each god has a different mode of worship and a different set of spells for clerics to use, with the theme for each reflecting the powers they grant. However, these powers come with a price: the cupidity of the gods often sends the faithful on dangerous or pointless missions. For those unwilling to follow such fickle gods, there is another, more recent, option: Arcane magics.
One of the few surviving expeditions to the forgotten islands of Dead Man’s Land brought back magical tomes that have revolutionized the way people see magic and offer magic without the worship of a god. These wizards are a young breed for the most part, but show a remarkable amount of promise. Although more dangerous and more difficult to attain, arcane spells are more powerful than their divine counterparts. They’re not limited, either: new spells are being created even now.
Naturally, the divine feel somewhat threatened by this new, god-free magic. The farther from the Imperium’s center—which firmly supports arcane magic—the more likely wizards are to be persecuted in turn by the Palite gods and their worshipers.
Followers of Leta are especially eager to convert these “god-haters;” using some of the same tools the Pure Legion does, they aim to convert as many disbelievers as they can. Any wizards being too open about their powers face a serious risk of being dragged to some dungeon and made to see the error of their ways.
Yet a third magical faction exists: alchemists, scientists with the ability to mix strange and powerful concoctions. Largely viewed as failures likely to end up blowing themselves sky-high, many are nevertheless extremely skilled and powerful. The majority of alchemists are based in the western parts of Lutetia, close to the nations of the Lemure and the Elves, all the better to obtain ingredients.
Intrepid alchemists are usually unwilling to try their less-practiced potions themselves. For those looking to earn a quick bit of coin, becoming a guinea pig for an alchemist is an easy proposition… though the results of the potions drunk are anyone’s guess.

Economics

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Merchants are everywhere, of course, but two routes attract the most travel: one on land, and one in the sea.
Known as the “Moon Crescent,” the path from Lysia to Nemria to Kabol is commonly used by overland merchants. These three cities are considered the central hubs of Lutetia, and allow for the easiest route with a relatively small amount of price variation. More intrepid merchants find greater price differences in the outskirts of the Dominion, but the travel is longer, harder and more dangerous.
The “Water Road” is not a road at all; rather, it’s a water path from the Sea of Leta to Imperius. Smaller voyages between Kabol and Lysia or Lysia and Imperius are common, but the full route is much more profitable. However, it’s also very long and hits an unfortunate number of tariffs. Such is the power of a city on the waterway.
Trade between Lemure and the Imperium is very common. Elym is a hub for Elven goods to meet human hands, and vice versa.

Politics

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Each town has a duchy, each city a lord—every one with their allegiance sworn to the Imperium. Peasants pay tithes in return for the protection of their lord or duke’s castle. Bandits aren’t common inside the Imperium’s heart, but are a real problem far west and far north.
It’s common for nobles to exercise their power by summoning to their castles those that catch their fancy—marriages or previous relationships notwithstanding.
Most people don’t really mind the Imperium’s rule, but remnants of those loyal to the Palite sovereignty do exist, especially at the Isle of the Sun. Word has it they’re mounting a rebellion, but their chances don’t seem so good.
If there’s one thing the resistance needs, it’s spies. Quick and lithe rogues are in high demand for infiltrating the offices of the nobility. Should good intel be returned, the rewards are high—but if caught, you’re at the mercy of your captor.
Emperor Blackhawk is beginning to grow old and talks are being held about a potential successor: he has named no heir among his many children and doesn’t seem likely to anytime soon. An heir must be found soon, or the empire will risk destabilization. He says: “an Emperor must first prove him or herself. Then I will speak.”

Women and Men

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Until fairly recently, gender roles were very distinct. A woman’s place was the home, and a man’s place was at war. However, these days things aren’t quite so clear. The Elves value their sexes equally and seem to hold no real distinction between the two: this cultural osmosis plus the discovery that women make more powerful wizards has blurred the lines.
Careful studies have indicated that women more easily grasp arcane magics and apply them with more skill. Because of this, many powerful wizards have now taken to the road, searching from village to village for lasses with magical aptitude.

Technology

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Besides recent advances into magic, Lutetia is firmly in the grip of the steel industry. One of the reasons for the Imperium’s success in battle is in the hills of the Great Plains: below the ground are vast deposits of metal and flux stone.

Unsavory Business

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Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Where there’s a way, there’s money. And money often attracts a darker sort of individual. In the otherwise iron-fisted rule of the Imperium, individuals with skills dedicated to stepping around red tape flourish. In recent years Thieves’ Guilds have sprung up, united under the rule of a man simply known as “The Crow.” None have ever seen his face, but it’s told he can steal a bauble from thirty feet. It’s because of his brilliant heists that the Guild has any sort of clout at all; every thief owes him an implicit debt
Teenagers and the extremely poor often find a friend in the Thieves Guilds dotting Lutetia, which are only too happy to have another light-fingered urchin working against the establishment. Experienced thieves have been known to take apprentices under their wing; word has it the Crow is among those searching for a partner.
The Orcs like to keep slaves. Unable to deny the military potential, some in the Imperium have also adopted the idea. The demand isn’t huge, but considering the large potential profit and low operating costs bandits often turn to slaving. It’s not uncommon to have young girls, young boys or strapping men snatched from their villages and sold somewhere easterly.
Orcs can also be found in the Imperium, but are always in chains and never treated well. Show any sort of sympathy to a beaten, tortured Orc and you’re likely to be called a “piggy lover.” Of course, if you do want to get in with the Orcs, there’s no better way than getting enslaved by bandits: the excess chattel they have invariably get sold at low prices across the Orcish border. They’re particularly fond of good breeding stock.

Sex

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In a continent with a goddess all about sex, temples that are basically glorified whorehouses and the area for population expansion it’s no surprise that everybody’s a little sex-crazed. The Imperium, believers in logic and codes of honor, tries to come down on this rampant sexuality, but hasn’t had much success… yet. As the Pure Legion grows, it’s clear Arceus has a serious grudge against Leta and her followers, who reportedly mock him for having a “limp weapon.”

Persistent Characters


Carver Clearbrook is a thief very, very down on his luck. He’s got a very complex curse put on him that’s just no fun, and right now he’s being chased by the Imperium for the theft of a rather expensive artifact. He’s handsome but doesn’t know it, and his unintentionally smooth words are often getting him in trouble.


Annabelle is a high-ranking priest in Leta’s order. Currently based in Nemria, she’s happy to soothe with a touch, a word, or her body.


Morgaine is a duchess of a small town near Nemria. She’s recently lost an artifact—stolen by Carver—and is trying her hardest to get it back. She’s a dominatrix at heart and is looking forward to wringing her money’s worth of pleasure out of Carver when she catches him.

Fun Applications of the setting I'd personally be interested in doing off the top of my head (erotic not necessary, but preferred)

• A girl is stolen from her home to be sold into slavery: her travels.
• An intrepid explorer finds herself confronted by a powerful man/creature.
• A thief's been caught by her town guard: can she weasel her way out of a sentence?
• An elf has been captured for questioning by humans! Will she manage to protect her state secrets?
• A sorceress learns magic under her demanding teacher.
• A girl enjoys Leta's festival.
• A new priestess gets a very special client...
• More!

PM me if you're interested in RPing with me. Otherwise, use this setting or not as you wish.

[Hypersigils]

Of the continuity, these threads yet exist:

The Unfortunate Thief
The New Slave

[Hypersigils]

Edits credited to the talented Synecdoche17 and Shjade

[Hypersigils]

A(n irreverent) sample of my work:

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The dark lady Morgaine rested back on her satin bed, her long milky legs swinging out to rest on the male attendant’s seated lap. He--what was his name again? Brent? Craig, maybe--barely managed to keep his posture straight, especially when her stocking-clad feet began to caress and prod at the growing bulge in his pants. I could see his eyes, wide with awe, trace the whole way up her long legs to a skirt that was decidedly too short. She smirked as she caught his gaze’s direction, and one slender hand picked up a fold to expose a soft thigh, a glimpse of lace, perhaps something wet... but before much of a greedy stare could be leveled at the space between her hips the cloth came fluttering down. “Ah-ah-ah, not just yet. You have to earn it, remember?” She stepped harder on the man’s groin as if to punish him for his transgression. I winced in sympathy, but from the mixed groan he gave in response I didn’t think he minded all that much. She poured herself a glass of mulled wine from the decanter by the table and sighed pleasantly. A quick glance justified the content expression on her face--his hands, rough but not calloused, were beginning to slide along her legs and it wasn’t long before his lips and tongue joined in. I couldn’t imagine the cloth tasted all that good, but who was I to say?

This continued for several minutes as she finished off the bottle of wine, a healthy red glow suffusing her features by the final cup. His kisses had grown more wet, more greedy, and by the low candlelight in the tower room several marks on her once-pristine stockings were visible. Her breathing was a little ragged by this point and finally she seemed to be able to withstand no more. Scooting back along the bed, she lay back with a soft thump. She still had enough composure to spread her legs with a degree of slowness, but open they did, praise the gods. The fabric between her legs parted and grew taut like a stage’s curtain before the skirt finally concealed nothing at all. The attendant at the edge of the bed gasped lightly, and I couldn’t help a low whistle (too quietly to be heard, of course); though her mound wasn’t hairless it seemed the duchess had taken it upon herself to do a little bit of trimming. Any reverent silence was broken by the sharp retort of flesh against flesh, however: the man fell back from the lady Morgaine’s kick and wiped at his bloodied lip. “Arrogant cur,” she snarled in a clear and controlled voice. “Your duty is not to look... but to lick.” That was what this attendant was for, I’d learned after some careful research: a gift from a neighboring duchy intended for mindless pleasure. Likely he didn’t enjoy the arrangement too much, but that was the way of the world. Some people get trod on and others get to walk.

The small bit of trepidation I’d had at hearing her collected tone dissipated as she lay back again, offering her attendant a second chance. The man seemed to be pleased as well; he leaned in almost too quick--earning a quick pinch from her thighs--but set to his task well enough. He seemed to know what he was doing, too, given the gasps and moans emanating from the noble lady’s mouth. These encouraging sounds gradually grew in fervor until they were fever-pitched screams and writhing underneath his talented mouth and tongue. He risked a curious glance up and got shoved right back down for his trouble, though her grip slackened immediately. “More,” she begged: “I want more!” Her hand fumbled along the bedspread until it found his chest and tried to move downward. In shock the attendant hesitated, but only for a second’s time. Then in a rush he pressed forward and she found his engorged member. Seeing her slender fingers pumping madly up and down his shaft gave me a bit of a rise, but the effect was much more profound on the man. He grunted and growled, shoving the Duchess into the bed as he sloppily positioned himself at her entrance. I could guess what was going on in his head--was this some sort of joke? Would his sadistic mistress spring up and chide him, have one head or the other decapitated? But as he grew closer and closer to the actual act without any negative reaction (much the reverse, in fact) he began to realize his lifetime’s chance. With a shudder he pressed inward and was rewarded with a pleasure-filled cry as he finally penetrated her.

Now, let’s stop here for a moment. Zip or tie up your pants, men. Ladies, if any of you are reading this, pat down your gowns and unruffle your garments. This is not that kind of book. I know if you stumbled upon this--and got this far!--you’ve probably encountered something of an erotic nature in the past. However, let me repeat: this is not that kind of book. I don’t have the experience to write it, for one thing. I just have my own experiences to draw from and as of now that includes absolutely no sex. I can’t imagine writing a voyeuristic text either; watching people doesn’t really get me off unless I’m in on the action and I hear you’re supposed to have your own drawers down while writing a dirty book, if you catch my drift. No, this is more supposed to be a book about my own life and as such it’s not solely about sex... though I gotta admit the two intersect closely quite a bit. No “Sex in the Tavern” or “Dragon’s Delights,” though. It’d be more appropriate to call this book “The Adventures of the Blueballed Thief,” though I don’t like the sense of futility in that title. If I had to call it something I might just call it after my name, plain and simple: Carver Clearbrook’s story. See that? A flawless way to work my own name into the story. That’s some real writer’s craft for you.

Anyway, I am not a voyeur and I had perfectly good reasons to be in the Duchess’ rooms at exactly this moment. That wine, if she’d bothered to smell it, had a light bouquet of rose--something completely out of place to the normal aroma of the wine. I should know; I was the one to put the aphrodisiac in it not two hours previously and the waiting had paid off. Crouching in the Duchess’ closet was no enjoyable task but I sucked it up for the greater good. Now my time was near and I rose slowly, peeking out of the closet slit to fix my eyes upon my prize. On the bedside table was a very shiny, very nondescript crystal ball perched atop a satin stand. I had it on very good authority (the authority of the Thieves Guild’s personal informants, the former of which were my gainful employers) that this crystal was no ordinary artifact. At least, that’s what I assumed; I didn’t really care what the ball did as long as I got paid. That was my current job, an unusually high-risk and high-reward one at that: take this little gem and escape safely. Only problem was the Duchess Morgaine had a very powerful set of enchantments attached to pretty much everything in her rooms. Touch the wrong thing while she wasn’t there and... well, it’s not the method I’d choose to become celibate but I hear it’s popular among some monks.

Now if you’re a cunning opportunist like me, you caught right on to that stipulation: when she’s not there. That’s the thing about spells, see--most of them are quite touchy so intelligent wizards keep a back door around. Morgaine’s back door (not the one currently being teased amid shrieks of pleasure, the other kind) was that she had to dispel the enchantment as soon as she entered her room. And true to her wards, she’d done just that 15 minutes ago. Now, lost in the throes of pleasure, she’d be unaware if I silently came and went. I stood fully and pushed the closet doors open enough for my thin body to squeeze through, mentally breathing a sigh of relief when no sound came from the well-oiled hinges. I crept quietly to the bedside and grabbed hold of the ball, sneaking a quick glance at the two entwined lovers on the bedspread. He was pumping in and out of her in abandon, eyes glazed. I could see more than pleasure in hers, though: there was a deeply buried sense that something was going wrong, that she’d never intended this at the night’s onset and wouldn’t have considered it without my own dose of liquid courage. Pleasure won out, however, and her rational mind was lost deep indeed.

Humming silently to myself, I made my way to the window and turned back for a fraction of a second, just enough to make sure I was safe. My eye was drawn unerringly to a single candlestick, slowly dripping wax below its guttering flame. Now, I don’t like candles and never have. The ambiance is nice, true, but they’re messy and costly. If you’re a mage, go for it: it’s part of your vibe, I get that. But if you want to bed a girl just toss some flowers at her instead. Not that it’s ever worked for me, I mean, but just no candles. There was another problem with candles I was quickly reminded of as an especially hard thrust slammed the Duchess into the bed, too: fire. The unstable candle shivered, tottered, cracked, and fell with a ponderous twist onto the very edge of the bedspread. Almost instantly a fire sprung from the cloth and startled the embraced mistress and servant--the shock burning the haze from lady Morgaine’s mind. Mesmerized by the caravanwreck unfolding before my eyes, I took just too long to make good my escape... and at a single eldritch word, I found myself unable to move at all. I turned slowly and against my will, only to be met with a very flushed Duchess dressed all in tatters. She did not look pleased. More gestures and arcane words brought my clothes sliding to the floor as I stood tall. She eyed my erection with mild interest, perhaps comparing it to the one that’d just been inside her. I don’t know how I size up, but I figure I’m alright. That’s what I’ve been told, at least.

She seemed to think it was amiable enough: with a saunter that seductive noble came up to me and placed her long fingers on my chest. They raked down and caught hold of my cock, squeezing fiercely. I groaned--seemed my tongue wasn’t bound the way my body was--and futilely tried to struggle. In a sultry, coaxing voice she whispered sweet nothings in my ear while taking careful note of my face. If she could memorize my features at all it was certain there’d be posters up in mere hours. Sliding her hand along my member she drew another groan from me before sliding up real close. I could feel her wet pussy sliding against the length of my dick as she pressed it between her legs, daring me to tilt just a little bit upwards. Gods know I wanted to, but the spell held me fast. She nibbled gently on my earlobe and caressed my hand with hers, one finger tracing the crystal ball but not pulling it free. Not yet, not until I was completely under her spell. And honestly, I was pretty close to that point already--if she’d have told me to dance a jig I might have if she gave me a stay in her “regal chambers” afterwards. She gasped a little as the teasing grabbed hold of those last bits of aphrodisiac and she slid off partway. Her cruel lips curved in a sadistic smile and she grabbed hold of my pulsing cock before pressing it at her sopping hole. “I’ve never laid a voyeur before,” she whispered in my ear as her other hand reached for the crystal ball. I gasped as she pressed in, my cock almost ready to blow already. Just a little more, and I’d...

Castles, when not properly enchanted or when they’re simply too old, begin to fall apart. Certain termites like to munch on stone, or so I’ve heard. Sometimes the combined weight of two people about to become one--aw, who am I kidding. You could come up with lots of mundane explanations for why the floor beneath my naked heels caved in, but none would sound very realistic. You can simply call it luck, if you like. Me, I’ll call it a fucking curse.

Perhaps some backstory would be helpful. I, as a young lad, had romantic intentions upon a girl who lived near the village I grew up in. Okay, maybe romantic is the wrong word, but I certainly wanted to bone her. Hard. She had one of those cherry asses and a sweet face to match, as well as the biggest pair of... well, you get the point: she was a knockout. Anyway, for some reason she thought I was pretty charming myself and things were beginning to get pretty hot and heavy between us. She’d been cooped up her whole life, see, and I was something interesting and pleasurable to experiment and flaunt her dad’s authority with. Not to say I minded; at that point I was just trying to get my dick in something moving and preferably humanoid. Normally this sort of story would have a happy--or at least humorous--ending, but there were several key details I didn’t mention. Namely, she spent her time cooped up in a castle. Run by a lord. Who was as powerful a sorcerer as he was protective of his daughter. We picked the wrong time for a rendezvous and, well, he ended up walking in on the deed. Allow me to reiterate: VERY powerful wizard. So though it’s a shock he didn’t kill me outright, the fact I’m now cursed isn’t all that surprising.

I’m told it’s a very complex curse, too. First place I tried to get it removed just laughed at me. Second place it drove a man insane. At the third shop they wouldn’t even let me in. It took me about a year of searching before I found a place that would even begin to help me, and they were stumped at how I’d managed such a predicament. They couldn’t remove it but they told me some details, most of which I’d already figured: it was a powerful hex (check), nearly impossible to remove (check), kept me from achieving orgasm (FUCKING CHECK), and was somehow divinely ordained. That last part was certainly news to me, but didn’t end up as that huge a surprise considering the specifics. See, it wasn’t enough for that goddamn wizard to make me unable to cum, he actually made it so that, whatever happens, I never get a chance to finish. How would you like that? Masturbating? Someone walks in on you no matter where you are. Getting sucked off? No such luck: she gets startled and bites. Handjob? Roving bandits attack. Fucking a girl? No can do--something always happens. It’s never quite the same thing twice, either, so it’s not only impossible to predict but impossible to evade. If one contingency doesn’t work, the next thousand will. And in a country as sex-crazed as Lutetia, you’re hard-pressed not to be pressed hard all the time. At least, that’s what I see: people all around are just fucking all the time though I never seemed to quite catch the knack of it. Something about the magical chastity belt, no doubt.

Anyway, I bet you’d want to get that belt off yourself. Well, too bad! If it’s divinely powered then you have to jump through even more hoops to get it dispelled. The best quotation I’ve got so far is upwards of 5,000 gold pieces (five thousand! You could buy a duchy with that!) and so, grudgingly, I’m saving my coppers for that glorious moment I can get some release.

Problem was, nothing's ever that easy.

And more to come.

[Hypersigils]

I've been gone. Life came calling.

Now, I'm back, and I'm looking for partners.
If you like what you see, let me know.