Half A Brain

"I have come to best you in mortal combat!" I bellow before your admittedly humble forest dwelling.

I await your response.

I frown, still awaiting.

"Witch, I have come for your head! The Baron demands it, and my honor obeys!" I raise the intensity of my cry, scanning for signs of movement within.

"Your honor should have you taking the stupid fucking Baron's head, the way his thugs abuse these innocent people..." I hear you mutter, emerging calmly from a strand of trees, a basket of flowers under one arm.

I spin, raising my axes, distraught to have been taken a fool, snuck upon as you spring your trap! And you, bewitching my eyes already, disguising your apperance so!

You raise a quizzical eyebrow at my skant attire. A barbarian? You wonder.

"Prepare yourself for a quick death, witch!" I charge, my axes primed to cleanly remove your head from your body, preparing myself to see this false illusion of beauty you've clearly cast fade as your curses die with you.

"I hardly need you to tell me..." You glance up and frown, then wave your wrist, half to alleviate a slight soreness from carrying the basket, half to gather a simple binding spell into the air between us.

I leap, ready to bring the full force of my might upon your slight frame, and at the apogee of my great bound, the air thickens around me, my body slowing to a halt as though some sticky sap surrounds me.

"What witchery is this!?" I cry, attempting to writhe free, my flailing only seeming to churn the very air, thickening it further, until I find my arms and legs outstretched as I hover a few feet above you, near enough to almost kick you, if only I could move my legs...

You sigh. Separate, assess, facilitate... you tap your chin, what was the last one? Oh, yes, evaluate. Improve on the process and iterate, right.

You step back, taking a slow, deep breath as I glower down at your false beauteous form with rage.

You try to assess. A barbarian. In a loincloth, no less. A... very revealing... oh my. You almost smirk as you glance at my obvious erection, sprung free from its meager covering by my twisting attempts to escape your spell, finding yourself more than a little intrigued at its unreasonable size. And my apparent unconcern that it's staring you directly in the face.

It's true what they say about the barbarians from the north, "going into battle with their swords drawn and their axes raised," you think to yourself, blushing slightly as untoward thoughts cross your mind.

You cough.

I glower.

Open ended questions, you think. "So, you've come to kill me?"

"I am honor bound by the Baron to take your head, witch!" I growl, straining to rend my axes against your flesh. I curse your witchery, your beguiling ways, the trickery of the curve of your bosom below me...

"Oh? Why so?" You offer, calmly, setting down your flower basket and stepping closer, admitting to yourself that the gesture is more to get a closer look than to encourage good will...

My eyes are drawn again to your chest as my vantage improves with your closeness, your dress loose, your breasts drawing me in with their sorcery! I growl. "I am contracted, and have sworn an oath to fulfill it with blood - yours!" Your curse is clearly working its magic, my eyes unable to plan an attack, forced so to stare down your dress...

"I'm a witch not a sorcerous, I have a certificate you know..." You seem distracted. "So, a contract?" You tap your chin, nodding. There's common ground here, you've seen barbarian contracts. Lots of outs when it comes to honor. This can certainly be resolved non-violently, through good communication.

"I see that you feel..." You try not to focus on my still-raging erection, just about eye-level as I hover in front of you, "... passionate about your honor."

"I am a barbarian warrior!" I roar, "I am honor!"

"Yes, definitely, an honorable warrior." You attempt as earnest a gesture of encouragement as you can with the largest cock you've ever seen rock hard directly in front of your face. You cough. "But, I feel uncomfortable that someone wants me dead. I feel perhaps I have done something dishonorable, and I too need to be an honorable, uh, witch." You nod up to me, and my rage cools slightly.

A witch of honor. I frown.

"Then let us meet honorably. Release me and I shall make your death swift and painless." I offer with great generosity.

"That's very kind of you," You blink up at me, "But I might request we discuss it further?"

I frown my consent to further discussion, bound as I am against my will.

"Great!" You glance again at my erection. Stiff as ever. Is it a spell? You wonder. "So, we have honor, but we also have dignity. Sometimes, you have to choose one or the other."

You pause, attempting to discern whether you're getting through.

I purse my lips. "The Baron is not a man of honor." I concede. "This contract is an indignity. But, a man must eat."

You are frankly more stunned by that comment than the massive cock staring you in the face.

"I am no fool, witch." I growl. "But, I am bound first by honor, not by dignity. And so, you must die."

You nod, glancing again at my utter lack of shame, and likewise concede that dignity is probably not my strong suit.

"What do you know of honor and dignity, witch? You, who attack me from behind, you who bind me with magic, you have no honor, and you, attempting to beguile me with your magics, with this sorcerous body no true woman could attain." I narrow my eyes. "I see through your witchcraft, you have no dignity, deceiving me, bewitching this heavenly sight of plainly unnatural beauty!"

"I said, I have a certificate, from the local commu..." You blink again. Sorcerous body? Unnatural beauty? "I'm not using any..." You blush, realizing this is just my reaction to what you look like. Hell, you've actually put on a few pounds recently that you've been trying to will yourself to work off. But you do love that iced cream so... Then you recall, barbarians have a... different standard of beauty.

You find yourself more flattered than you feel like you should be, and try not to smile. "I swear, on my honor, I am not using any magic to change my appearance." You swallow as I scowl. "That's actually kinda tricky, and you need... it's just not something I've really wanted to do, I'm comfortable with who I am, and this is me." You say plainly.

I scoff, but you've clearly swayed me. "Even if I am to believe a woman with such beauty could exist, and you are this woman, these clothes you wear, the form they belie of your breasts... you are regardless using your natural gifts to distract and seduce, when we are here meeting on the field of battle! We are not meeting at a brothel for an evening of employ at real, honest labors. This is combat, and such frivolity is an indignity to honor."

You smirk at belieing anything, always considering yourself to be rather modest in the chest area. But, again, different cultural norms, you suppose. "I mean, you're one to talk about revealing clothes." You nod at my still-raging erection, hovering a few feet in front of your face. "What if I was dressed like you are? Would that be better?" You laugh.

"Even if you were naked, and you presented all your apparently natural beauty in its most dignified state for combat to the death, I would still resist you and fulfill my honor." I scowl.

"Oh!" Cultural norms! "The dress itself is the issue! Because it's bad for fighting in!" You briefly consider magic, then shake your head, "Look, I didn't put this dress on expecting to find a field of battle on my way home. I happen to like this dress. But, I can understand it makes you uncomfortable given the context here..." You reach down and lift the dress off in one swift motion, leaving your body bare below me, discarding it into the flower basket. "Now, is this better?"

My eyes are transfixed by your curves. Your hips, round for gripping, suitable for many children, your breasts in their natural state, not yet plumped with milk, demonstrating your readiness for a lifelong mate. Your body fit for the long northern winter, the soft curve of your stomach ready to accommodate many children, unlike the scrawny young woman who fawn on me at the taverns of this region. Your face soft, kind, thoughtful, a true companion for those long winter nights... I roar inwardly, fighting against my natural inclination, and yet my own arousal betrays me still.

You shiver in the warm sunlight, unused to your own nudity out in the open, in front of a man so obviously attracted to it. Finding yourself suddenly taken by an odd curiosity engendered by this atypical exposure, you give in and trace a finger along my shaft, feeling its heat as my breath catches with your touch.

"I... I'm sorry..." You murmur, pulling your hand away.

"Do not concern yourself." I frown, voice low. "Many women have desired it, but none can tame it." I exhale, filled more with sorrow than boasting. "Women of the brothels who deign to one like me lack your unimaginable beauty." You blush. "They are frail things, and often I must exhaust many of them before I achieve my own release." I sigh. "It is becoming more difficult to find a nightly companion who will even accept my custom. It is not worthy of their valuable time... or my own increasingly limited coin."

"Ha, that almost sounds like a challenge!" You laugh, then your eyes light up. "Oh! An honor challenge!" You tap your chin again, momentarily forgetting your own nudity as you try to recall the details of barbarian honor challenges. "Do you truly believe I would be unable to make you 'achieve release'?" You ask.

"You are hardly a skilled tradeswoman, you know not the ways of the flesh, you could never satiate my lust, even with your great beauty." I scoff.

"Well, I disagree..." You say plaintively. "So, I challenge your honor on this." You look up seriously, and I look down at you.

I consider. An honest challenge does satisfy my contract, and this is honest as we both seem to believe we shall be the victors. "I agree to this challenge." I nod firmly and you smile. "I will still have to behead you when you fail, but be assured, that too will be an honorable death." You frown.

"Let's see what we're working with here..." You lean into my cock, waving a hand and lowering me a few inches until it's just level with your mouth. You examine it closely all along the length, tenderly tracing your fingers along my flesh.

"I do enjoy your touch, beautiful witch, but this will not achieve your aim." I watch your naked form step in below me, catching a glimpse of the curve of your luscious backside, imagining your body warming mine in the night.

"I'm just taking some notes..." Your eyes flicker up to mine and I catch that sweetness again in your smile. Beguiling me.

Your fingers tease along beneath my shaft, finding their way between my thighs, my breath catching as you feel tenderly across my skin. "Intriguing..." You mutter, and I wonder what it is you're even taking notes about.

You pull up your other hand, running your fingers around my shaft as your other hand cups at my balls. I admit to myself that your soft touch is more welcome than any brothel maiden's ever was.

Your fingers grip my shaft firmly, before tenderly pulling back, exposing the head of my cock. As before every honor duel, I cleaned thoroughly throughout my body. You find the skin beneath as fresh and clean as the rest.

You look up at me, scanning my face, and lean in, tracing your tongue softly along the ridge you've just exposed, watching to see my reaction. I am dour at your subterfuge, conspiring to betray nothing, but your tongue is more willful than even I, and I shudder as it passes along my flesh, eliciting a smile from you.

"Intriguing indeed!" You grin, nodding. "Okay, I think I'm ready to begin."

"You have not yet begun to fight?" I furrow my brow at you.

"I have not." You smile, as unbeknownst to me the sensory magic you just wove starts taking hold, and you start to draw sensations out from my body to yours, and back.

I feel the warm sun on my back, then look up, squinting at it before me. "What trickery..." I murmur as you trace a hand up your stomach and I shiver, feeling your finger on your skin.

"Good!" You grin at my reaction, letting your fingertip wander to your breast, teasing tenderly, gently toward the tip, until it just so subtly passes your nipple as though it were a soft afternoon breeze.

"I..." I shudder, feeling the sensation of your breast, of electricity jolting down your spine, my cock tensing in reply. "What have you done to me, witch?" I bellow, eyes widening.

"Well, to be honest, I usually reserve this for men and women I've already enjoyed a few times, but..." You shrug, smiling up at me, "I've just shared my feelings with you, and shared yours with me..." You glance down at my cock, then back up to my eyes, slipping your lips around me.

You sigh inwardly as you feel my stiff flesh slide into your mouth, as you feel your soft, warm mouth wrapping around my hard cock, as I feel my cock entering your mouth. "By the ten devils..." I murmur, your tongue gently working its way around my head. I feel the textures of my own cock, the textures your tongue feels as you explore every inch of me.

I glance down and catch your eyes. You raise your brows to me, a hint of what's to come. I feel your hand press into your breast, sending a warmth I can feel as though I were in your body, right down between your thighs, where it meets your other hand. I can feel the wetness you feel of your own soft slit just as I can feel your fingers tenderly pressing into it.

"Mmngh..." You softly moan writhing at your own touch as your mouth bobs. And you gently, skillfully massage my cock, feeling the effect you have on me heightens your own sense of pleasure.

"Such... witchcraft..." I writhe against the air, constrained by the invisible bonds, such an intense sensation filling my mind as I've never felt, as your fingers press inside you, as your tongue writhes around my shaft, as your knuckles knead your nipples, as a heat rises in you like a fire that ignites us both.

"Mngh!" You moan around my shaft, already shuddering at the electric feeling shooting into you, and I cry out in tandem, my cock throbbing as you shove it deeper inside your throat. You push it further than any cock has entered your mouth, goaded on by the incredible sensation you feel through me as you press in.

You draw back, and then forward again, shuddering a soft moan around my flesh, and I feel the very same wave of pleasure coursing through you, through us both. Another thrust, harder, deeper. And another. And another...

Your hips kick against your hand as your pussy tightens, my hips kicking pointlessly against the air as I suddenly burst, deep inside you, pouring hot cum into your throat. You press hard, ignoring the dull soreness of your throat, savoring the incredible intensity of feeling yourself around my cock as I burst again and again inside you. You are barely able to swallow enough to keep up.

Eventually, you can't, falling back, my cock splattering one last burst onto your face, then another, as it softens lightly, now drooping slightly in the air between us, dribbling a mix of cum and saliva down to the ground below.

You shiver, inhaling, then exhaling, slowly. You raise a limp arm, waving, unweaving. I sink down to the ground, the magic dispelled. A burning heat cools deep inside me as our link fades as well.

I stand, latching my axes against my sides, and nod.

"You have bested me in an honorable challenge, witch." I kneel down before your peerless naked form, made ever more peerless by the sight of my own cum slowly dripping down your face, and avert my eyes from the intensity of your beauty. "My contract stands fulfilled. You will retain your head this day."

You snort a laugh, coughing up an unexpected gush of semen, which exits as a bubble of goo out of your nose. You giggle as it bursts, splashing your face with my cum once more.

I look sternly, seriously up at you.

"So, what, do I own you now?" You shrug, licking your lips generously, trying to clean some of the gunk from your face. You wipe a hand on your cheek, finding more sticky goo than you know what to do with. You shrug, lapping it off your fingers and swallowing it down. Not bad, you nod, wondering briefly about the effects of the barbarian diet.

"I am no longer obligated to the Baron, although I will not be compensated for this as you have bested me." I stand, calmly, shaking my head. "But that brings me no obligation to you."

"Ah, so, you've got to go get, like, a new contract, then? To, like, pay down your student loans?" Satisfied you've cleaned your face, or at least to the extent you can get the sticky stuff to move, you turn and pick up your dress, pulling it up over your head.

"A man must eat." I shrug, taking a moment to admire your incredible beauty once more. I fear I will never see its like in all my days. "I must report my defeat to the Baron, thank you for the honorable combat."

You catch my eye on your figure, and scoff another laugh. Cultural norms are a hell of a drug, you think.

"So, hey, these contracts, they're for killing people, mostly?" You consider.

"Yes, executions are my specialty." I nod seriously, always recognizing a potential contract opportunity, and attempt my best business-like demeanor while quickly trying to recall my elevator pitch.

You smile. "Well, I might have a contract for you, as long as you're headed that way any way..."