Of Traveler Pros And Traveler Cons

Lauren gripped Jester’s tail tightly yet tenderly in his hand, the spindly length wrapped firmly in his fist as he used it for leverage to ecstatically plumb the squealing and cooing depths of the tiefling courtesan on her hands and knees in front of him, her bed squeaking energetically beneath them. Her newly-pendulous tits wobbled to and fro gently in time with his thrusts, which had gradually picked up from a gentle, metronomic rhythm to a pulsing, pounding frenzy as they both hurtled ever closer to release.

Lauren rested his hand against the small of Jester’s back, feeling the taut skin contract and release along with the muscles beneath as he continued to fervently pound the blue-skinned vixen. His head lolled back on his shoulders, his eyes sliding shut while the pleasure washed over him, and he felt that for every single one of the ****-defying scrapes that he’d found himself in over the years, he’d finally found himself in a situation where he could die happy.

As Lauren heard the pitch of Jester’s cries build up towards a lustful crescendo, he both literally and figuratively pulled on the reins a tad, slowing his thrusts and willing his release to hold off until he’d given Jester one of her own. He furrowed his brow as he made a conscious effort to tackle her sweet spots, angling his shaft to hit the places that made her moan his name the loudest—before finally clasping the mysterious rock in his teeth, leaning down, and using his free hand to cup the heft of Jester’s swaying bust and give it a hearty, tender squeeze.

Jester gasped in a wordless shout of pleasure, her snatch contracting wildly around him and taking the heat building up around Lauren’s loins to a new level. He just barely managed to pull out of her contracting folds and angle his shaft upwards, before spraying his load wildly over Jester’s upraised ass, the tiefling woman’s face sinking into the bedspread while the strength of her arms began to fail her.

“That, was, amaaaaaazing.” Jester breathed out, her posture steadily collapsing until she was able to comfortably roll over onto her side, allowing Lauren to promptly settle in behind her, with the softening length of his cock pressing slightly against her freshly-sticky backside.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Lauren said honestly, before sneaking a gentle kiss on Jester’s supple neck. “Though I have to admit, with a performance like that, you really made it a challenge to give just as good as I got.”

Jester giggled faintly. “Silly Lauren, was that supposed to be a bard joke?” Jester asked, wiggling her bottom into his crotch as he snaked an arm around her waist, his index finger idly tracing subtle circles onto her stomach.

“Maybe a little.” Lauren responded, moving his face up to the back of her head, letting his eyes close as he breathed in the scent of her hair.

Jester giggled again in response, before reaching down to her stomach to place her hand over his. Lauren felt himself slip more and more into the moment, imagining that he could lay here blissfully holding onto this beautiful tiefling woman forever…

Knock-knock-knock

Knock-knock-knock

Knock-knock-knock

Lauren let out an annoyed sigh, before gently disentangling himself from his companion to pad barefoot over to the door. “There had better be a good reason for—”

Blackness. As far as the eye could see, the space in front of him was dark as pitch, of a shade that not even the sight of the devils would be able to penetrate. Lauren opened his mouth to gasp, but no sound came out. He turned around to find Jester, only to see that his room had disappeared. He was floating in that void now, blackness surrounding, consuming him on all sides.

Alone.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flutter of a sea-green cloak.

“We need to talk.”

Lauren was back in his room, sitting on his bed. Across from him, where he and Jester had been so peacefully slumbering before, a green-hooded figure sat instead, all of their distinguishing features hidden by the robe’s draping folds.

“Is this a… dream…?” Lauren asked, even as his words echoed hollowly around the space, his arms and legs feeling as though they were moving underwater.

“Close enough.” The figure said with a casual shrug. On the figure’s lap, Lauren noticed that it seemed to have one of Jester’s notebooks open, to a page with details that Lauren couldn’t quite make out. “You know, it’s a lucky thing that there aren’t more pictures of you than me in here after that little trick of yours, or else this conversation might’ve been a tad less pleasant for you.”

“You… know?” Lauren asked, gaping like a fish at the faintly-nonsensical events suddenly swirling all around him, before rapidly shaking his head in an attempt to jog loose some clarity. “Wait—who are you?”

“Were you not listening? I’m sure she’s mentioned me, at least once or twice by now.” The figure said, before leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees so that his sleeve-obscured hands could extend up into his hood, as though cupping a chin that Lauren couldn’t quite make out. “Or did you really think that there wouldn’t be any consequences from this, that a cleric wouldn’t be defended by her god?”

Somewhere within his dream-memories, the connection clicked. “You’re… The Traveler?”

“Very good! You were listening, after all. Though don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of me before tonight, I run a rather exclusive flock. And as for Jester, well…” The Traveler climbed to his feet, his frame suddenly seeming to tower above Lauren in the slight space, his robes whipping and flowing majestically around him without showing so much as a hint of the skin beneath. “Jester just to happens to be my very, very favorite member of that flock.”

A pit began to open deep within Lauren’s stomach, and he dropped a large gulp down into it. “Are… are you going to kill me now?”

There was a pregnant pause throughout the room, where the only noise was the gentle rustle of flowing cloth, and the blood suddenly pounding in Lauren’s ears—before the Traveler burst out into mad, almost musical cackling.

“Kill you? After you’ve only just started? Oh heavens no, you and that rock are one of the most potent recipes for sheer chaos that I've seen since, well… Jester and myself!”

After a moment, Lauren started laughing along with him, a stuttering, nervous chuckle that nevertheless managed to put him a little bit more at ease. “So… I guess, why am I here, then?”

The Traveler moved his sleeves together as if to steeple his unseen fingers contemplatively, then began to pace gently around the room. “Believe me when I say this, that I absolutely loathe rules. In every way, shape, and form—in fact, I feel like I’ve spent the better part of an eternity hearing people tell me what I can’t do, then throwing it straight back into their faces! It’s a sheer delight, let me tell you.” The Traveler came to a stop once more in front of Lauren, the god’s standing form looking down at Lauren’s sitting one in such a way that still somehow managed to hide the deity’s face in a veil of shadow. “So I want you to know that it pains me on a deep, spiritual level to say this, in that you and me need to set some ground rules. Specifically,” The Traveler leaned in, and Lauren could almost feel the entity’s phantom lips brushing up against his earlobe, as his still-unseen hand landed on Lauren’s shoulder. “If you, with or without that little rock of yours, end up hurting my most precious Jester, I’m going to ensure that your insides end up on your outsides.”

As The Traveler pulled back, Lauren could feel his face going pale, his hands shaking slightly in place with a sudden clamminess. “W-well, that seems, ahem, very r-reasonable.” Lauren said with a nod, his expression cracking apart into a nervous smile coupled with a set of anxious chuckles. “I wasn’t really planning on hurting her anyway, so I think that we’re on the same page.” Lauren's head then cocked to the side, his smile tightening a tad as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Though… considering the rock is so powerful, who’s to say that I couldn’t just use it on you too, and stop you if you tried anything?"

“Mmm. I suppose that you could.” The figure said contemplatively. “But consider this: a man once claimed to be immortal in my presence, who I otherwise enjoyed the company of and had done me no great harm. I then arranged to strangle him to ****, with my bare hands, just so that I could have the pleasure of savoring the experience. So if you do try and make a wish on me, and it doesn’t work, well, just imagine what I’ll do to you?"

The Traveler lifted his sleeve, but rather than giving Lauren any glimpse at the hand beneath, the bard felt a sudden squeezing around his throat—

—and gasped awake, wide-eyed, sucking in deep, precious breaths.