From here I will be telling stories that will hopefully entertain, as well as provide instruction in the ways of being a party healer. I will keep my descriptions of my reasoning and techniques as detailed as possible so as not to leave you wondering about how and why I do what I do.

This story starts with me taking a bounty to guard an abandoned keep through the winter. I was told even though the keep was far to the north, the wine cellars and firewood were well enough stocked for the next two years. I should be honest though, my real interest in the bounty was that two brothers had already accepted the bounty, two northmen brothers.

If you’ve never seen a northman, allow me to try my hand at painting you an accurate picture. Imagine a lumberjack, his hide pants and thick buttoned shirt stretching against his hairy muscles, now make him two feet taller, yes two whole feet taller. The northmen aren’t quite half-giants, but they are about as big as a man can get and still breed with a normal size woman, which is exactly what I am, and exactly why spending the winter in an abandoned castle seemed like a reward in its own right. Now, back to the giant lumberjack, replace his sweat-stained clothes with pelts that are worn more like trophies than actual garments that leave just enough to the imagination. Now add a second felling axe, replace his wiry beard with a clean shaven, chiseled jaw, and grow his blonde hair down to his angular chin. That, dear reader, is a northman.

In this case, two northmen. Brothers named Svald and Baldur, sat at a table, drinking and arguing as I approached. “The guild master said the two of you are also registered for a winter in White Wall Keep. Is that correct?”

The brothers stopped arguing and looked up at me, their faces slowly turning from angry snarls to poorly hidden glee.

“Yah,” one said in his thick northern accent.

“I’m considering taking the contract myself.” This was a lie, I had already accepted the contract and in this case had actually asked what contract they applied for specifically, but you generally want to meet the people you will be working with before you agree to anything, like being alone with them for an entire winter. But, I wanted them on their best behavior, so I lied. First, a test of intelligence, northmen aren’t known for their bulging intellect. “I guess I just don’t understand why a castle would need two strong northmen to stand guard for an entire season.”

The brothers looked at each other, then back at me. One of them shrugged and spoke in a very broken common tongue, “Cellars full, no yippy yappy frails.” Frails were the preferred slur northmen used to describe anybody shorter than seven feet tall.

That was another thing about northmen. Martially, they were hard to match. They were bigger than most and were able to brute force their way through almost anything, so they didn’t consider things like death to be a reasonable consequence. The contract existed for a reason though, that I was sure, you don’t hire guards unless something needs guarding. I decided to move on.

“My name is Lucia,” I bowed and waited for a response, but none came. Their eyes had fallen to my cleavage during my bow and seemingly gotten lost. This was typical behavior, I dressed a certain way to get a certain response and it always worked. Besides, nobody ever called me by my name. The most common terminology for our profession is, as you already know, Heal Slut.

“Right then,” I said, straightening up to my full height, “I want one third the bounty and I will be your full time healer.” At this point it’s good to set expectations. It doesn’t really matter, adventurers are going to use you for whatever they want, but it will make you feel better to give them permission first. “You will have full use of me at any time of day, whether I’m asleep or awake, permission isn’t necessary, but it is appreciated.” I gave them a look that told them if they wanted reciprocation, they could ask first. This would be lost on them I knew, but it is very effective with more civilized parties. “I will cook but I won’t lift. I'm not a pack mule, what is currently in my pack is the only thing I will be carrying, do you understand?” They were already nodding.

That last bit is important. As a less experienced healer you won’t be able to get out of hauling but if you look the part, you can make this demand and hold them to it, it’s one of the few benefits a healer gets so lean into it.

“Now, which one of you is Svald?” The man with slightly less scars on his face grunted and I held out my small hand with my typical introduction, “It will be my pleasure to serve you.”

—

Northmen don’t typically travel by horse because of their size, but they did have a mule that carried a small cart. There was room for me in the wagon but I walked the entire first day. I assumed I would be stuck indoors most of the winter so I wanted the exercise while the weather permitted. I tried asking them questions but they remained mostly silent during the walk, only responding in short grunts which I had to decipher based mostly on head movement.

Our first night we stopped at a very small roadside inn. The two northmen walked in before me, dipping their heads and shoulders through the doorway while I tended the mule. He was a good donkey who I decided to call Jarl, because of the sound he made when he got excited.

It was a cool night, we weren’t far enough north for real cold but an occasional breeze would bring the promise of winter. I situated the mule in the barn and headed into the inn. I was greeted by two shouting men. One of them was Svald, who was screaming a string of what I assumed were curses in his native tongue, his head tilted awkwardly against the ceiling, the other was a portly human who seemed to have some kind of death wish. Never had I seen someone stand up to two northmen, especially not someone shorter than me.

“Get the fuck out of my house!”

“House?” I said, shoving my way through the two giant men.

The man stood with his back to a small hearth, holding a candlestick, he wore a sweat stained nightgown and a deep scowl. “Burberry! That’s what the sign says!” The man’s face was beet red.

I put a hand on Svald’s stomach and tried to ignore the way my fingers fell into the hard crevasses of his solid abdomen. I looked up at him with an expression I like to call, “please don’t cleave this small weaponless man in half.” He looked down at me as if he had just noticed I was there but stopped spitting at the old farmer.

I turned, still feeling Svald’s stomach, and gave an apologetic look to the man. “I take it you’re Burberry? And…” I looked around the small dining room, the hearth was too small for an inn, and the table only had four chairs. “This isn’t a roadside inn.”

“Yer damn right on both accounts miss.” He was still fuming but his shouting had quieted.

“Well from the road, it looks like –”

“If you’d read the sign, it says Burberry Farmstead.”

Make sure you always read signs, traveler, they are usually there for a reason.

“Well then that’s our mistake, we’ll be leaving now, sorry for the trouble.” I pressed against Svald’s stomach but he didn’t move an inch. I looked up at him but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the farmer. I then looked at Baldur who’s face had turned to that of a hungry wolf who’s just come upon an injured rabbit.

The thing about adventurers is they don’t really answer to anyone outside large cities. Sometimes that’s a good thing, like when someone needs to be sent through the veil, rather than turned over to authorities. But sometimes that’s a very bad thing, like when a farmer offends two northmen nearly twice his size, at night, with nobody around for miles.

This is where you come in, healer. You will find yourself between an angry farmer and a gorgeous northman more than once in your career, that I can promise. Knowing how to soothe tempers is considered preventative care in our profession, which is why this is the first lesson.

So, I turned back to the farmer, who’s eyes glanced toward the crossbow on the mantle above his dining table. I melted my face into the warmest smile I could muster. “Sir Burberry, we’ve been walking an awful long way today, might we come to some agreement? Perhaps my friends could stay in the barn?” A low growl behind me told me that wasn’t going to work, but I held eye contact with the farmer.

The farmer was sweating now, his initial outrage had died down and he was starting to see the truth of his situation. He flicked a nervous tongue over his lower lip “I suppose the barn could be suitable for –”

“Our donkey,” I interrupted, “I already stabled him. Perhaps my companions could stay on the floor in this room,” He tried to interrupt but I kept talking, “but it won’t do for me, I’ll need a bed, maybe your bed has room for a girl like me?” I opened my cloak a little wider, and curved my heartfelt smile into a suggestive smirk. “I’d be in your debt.”

His ruddy face reddened further and he stammered over his words. “I – um, I mean I wouldn’t want you and your friends to have to sleep outside, the white winds will be here any day now.” He shook his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “In fact, you’re probably hungry, let’s get you some food and we can discuss potential sleeping arrangements.” His demeanor changed to an accommodating host and he backed slowly through a door behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight my smile fell and I whirled on my two pet giants. “Look at me.” They did. “If he comes back with a weapon, you can kill him.” They smiled. “If he comes back with food, you will say thank you.” They frowned. “You hear me? Thank you.” I enunciated the phrase and spun back just as the door reopened. Our host was still sweating but more from exertion, he wasn’t in very good shape and he was carrying a large pot that he hooked above the hearth before looking over and giving a weak smile to me and my companions.

I gently stepped on Baldur’s foot and he clumsily recited his thanks, then Svald followed suit. I could feel their haunches lower and the room began to feel more cozy, and less claustrophobic. “Now then,” I said with a breath of relief, “this is…” I turned and realized I wasn’t sure which one was which. “One of them is Svald, the other is Baldur, my name is Lucia, and I am at your service, Sir Burberry,” I bowed lower than I had with the twins, letting my host see just how long my cleavage could extend.

“Please, call me William.”

“Well that’s a handsome name, Sir William Burberry…”

At this point the game was won. We had a place to stay, we had food, and since he wasn’t actually an inn, we didn’t have to pay him. We ate his food, we drank his wine and at some point the boys sang a foreign tune while I burned sultry holes in William with my well practiced bedroom eyes. But the negotiations weren’t quite finished, there were still those pesky sleeping arrangements that needed to be finalized.

I yawned a great big stretching yawn, and it was genuine. I think you’ll find walking all day easier said than done, but your body will adapt. “Well, I think it’s time for me. Did you decide if you’re going to share your bed with me? Or will you be a gentleman and sleep on the floor?”

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then looked at the two men sitting on either side of me and swallowed.

“We can discuss it behind closed doors,” I decided to save him from his torment. The poor man had been a good sport. We did barge into his home after all. “You boys can figure out how to split up the room.” I stood and waited expectantly for William.

The short man practically fell out of his chair, he hopped to his feet and took my hand without further comment. I suppressed a smile and followed the waddling man to the corner of the room, down a very short hallway and through a door that closed swiftly behind me.

Now, here is where the real lesson begins. You see, I lied before, I did read the sign. I knew it wasn’t a roadside inn. The truth is, I have countless farm houses across Yore that would welcome me with a bowl of hot food and a warm bed, all because of that one time I mistakenly let my foreign brutes stumble in. Then, at some point, I did what I’m about to do to this farmer, or rather, what I’m about to let him do to me.

“You don’t have to be nice to me anymore.” I unhooked the clasp to my cloak and it fell to the floor in a fluffy pile around my feet.

“I’m sorry?” The farmer turned and his eyebrows nearly jumped off his face in delight as I began removing my boots.

“I said, you don’t have to be nice to me anymore, I accidentally brought two killers into your house, they ate your food and drank your wine, and they’re certainly not going to pay you.” I pulled my top down and my tits pressed together before bouncing apart. “We owe you for a bed and a meal. Take it from me. Take whatever you want William. Don’t hold back.”

I fell to my knees and looked up at him pouting my lips. His eyes glittered with delight and I began mentally preparing for a night of very little sleep. You should know when you present a widower, or worse, an old bachelor with free reign over a fit adventurer's body, they’ll want to savor the opportunity. And Burberry indeed savored his opportunity.

In one motion he pulled the nightgown over his head and it crumpled in a corner. His hairy chest sagged onto his furry stomach. I looked eye level into the nest of dark pubic hair to see a thick pink sausage poking out from beneath the overhang of his gut. My eyes tensed against the stench of a farmer’s unwashed crotch but I kept my lips pouted and my eyebrows raised.

“Well?” He said expectantly.

I’ve found that there are two kinds of men when faced with a topless woman on her knees. Those that are far too forceful and overzealous, and those that have absolutely no idea how to proceed. For all his bluster, Burberry seemed to be the latter. I like to think of them as gentlemen, they don’t want to overstep and ruin the opportunity, which means I get to have a different kind of fun.

I dropped the lusty look and sighed. “Well what, William? You have to tell me what you want, I’m a healer not a thought puller.” This is a good lesson for those of you reading this that have no interest in becoming a heal slut as well, telling your partner exactly what you want will always lead to you having much more fun. And likewise, if you have an excited fat farmer breathing down at you, just asking him how he wants to use you will make for a better time for everyone.

His eyes flicked from my lips to my tips and back, but he still hesitated.

“Okay Will,” I decided a younger name was more fitting for the timid man, and I stood, pushing him back onto the bed. His feet dangled off the edge and the old frame creaked as his weight settled. “First things first,” I fell to my knees again next to his bed. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

Here’s a trick I learned from an old bugbear that made me into his slave for a span, when you’re faced with an unwashed groin, the best thing you can do is dive in, and clean it yourself. So I pushed Will’s legs apart further and pressed my nose against his hairy ball sack. I inhaled his thick musk and was wrapped in the intoxicating scent of a warm wet taint. I licked up the fresh sweat and he breathed a low moan.

I lapped at his under-balls until his cock drooped atop my head. My nose rested between his two enormous testicles and I licked the underside of his scrotum, sucking and kissing and sniffing. Slobber pooled around my tongue and I spit it across his balls before going back to my work below, blowing small bubbles in the slime with my nose.

When his taint had lost its flavor I moved to his wet ball sack, sucking and nibbling on the loose skin. I watched his cock harden fully and purred with one of his nuts engulfed in my sucking lips and cheeks. I let it free with a loud pop and took the other one, stretching his sack as I sucked. His cock loomed over my face and I pushed the base of it with my nose as I finished cleaning his soft leathery purse. Precum dripped down the hard shaft and I lapped it up like a happy kitten licking spilled cream. My tongue followed the wet trail of fluid all the way to the tip of his shaft and it twitched as I flicked my tongue against the crease of his cockhead.

I straightened up on my knees and looked down at the farmer. He was staring stupidly at the ceiling but glanced down at me as my attention stopped. I raised my heavy chest and pushed them together. “Want to fuck my tits or my mouth?” His mouth moved but I couldn’t hear him. “What’s that, Will?”

“Both,” he panted.

I grinned in delight and lowered myself down slightly, letting a long strand of drool rain down from the tip of my tongue. I pressed my breasts together around the base of his shaft and the slobber pooled before I slapped them together, engulfing his cock fully in the soft fat of my huge tits. I raised them up slowly, then slapped them down against his thighs. His cock just barely poked through the top of my cleavage and I leaned forward, kissing his swollen glans before raising my breast up the length of his shaft again.

His moans were long and loud as I jiggled my breasts around his cock, occasionally sucking and licking his peeking cockhead. I could tell he was going to spill and I released my tits from around his cock, slobber and precum stretching between them. He looked down at me like I had just taken away a toy from a child and groaned as his orgasm waned.

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “You can seed my tits, Will, if that’s what you want, just say the word.” He was nodding furiously but I continued, cupping and lifting his ball sack “or you can save your heavy load and breed me properly.” He stopped nodding and his eyes went wide. I dropped his balls and stood. I turned my back and bending forward, lifting my skirt. “Do you want to fuck my little hole, Will?” It was dripping with anticipation and I looked over my shoulder to see his head was bobbing again.

I took a step back and lowered my ass onto his lap. His cock slid through my wet cunt like a hot dagger through a ball of butter. I shivered as he split my puffy sex and nestled my ass cheeks against his hips. His crotch hairs tickled my hairless lips and I puffed a laugh as my legs opened and closed in pleasure. It was a good cock, thick enough to stretch me and long enough to feel nice and full.

I pulled myself up and the sound of slapping flesh began anew, this time it was my ass cheeks clapping against his hairy thighs. I grit my teeth. I wanted to moan but some men can’t handle a moaning woman without spending their seed. It turns out for Will it didn’t matter. As soon as the fourth or fifth hard slap of skin, his cock was twitching and pulsing. I felt it bubble up inside me, hot and sticky, lubing me up as I used the rest of his erection to give myself a nice stretch.

Sadly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy me fully. You’ll find many a night of you pleasing yourself once everyone has gone to sleep, their use of you will begin to turn you on but their needs always seem to come first. Once, during a wartime contract, I was in a squadron with two healers and we spent most of the time getting each other off. If only that would be the case more often, but I digress. Back to Will, the farmer who couldn’t last.

This is actually more common than you might think. Most of your encounters will be no longer than five minutes, but to Will’s credit, he wasn’t done. The old farmer had a good amount of physical stamina, if not sexual, and he fucked me five more times throughout the night, even getting me off once. It was a pleasant enough evening and I made up for the lack of sleep in the wagon the following day, propped against a sack of cabbage he insisted we take, gods bless him.

I continued my journey with Svald and Baldur and we did indeed reach the abandoned castle, but that’s a story for another day. Now that I’ve instructed you on the importance of effective conflict resolution, you don't need to hear all the messy details of my time with the two northmen, right?

Oh, you do want the messy details?

I suppose I could think of another example of good conflict resolution during my travels with the northmen.

Alright, you’ve swayed me. Get another drink and I’ll continue my tale.

Now, where was I? Right, cabbage. I awoke as the sack of cabbage toppled over. The cart had hit a large rock in the road and I was bounced awake. I stretched and groaned and yawned, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I looked around, but I was alone. The wagon was being guided by our donkey through a rocky field, and a road was nowhere to be seen. I hopped off the back of the wagon and pulled the ass to a stop.

“What in the?” I looked back the way we had come and could make out erratic wagon tracks as Jarl had stopped to graze here and there. I grabbed his reins and led him back, trying to follow the faint cart tracks. As I rounded a hill I heard shouting. Loud booming yells that caused Jarl’s ears to flatten. When I saw the source of the commotion I stopped and rolled my eyes.

The northmen were standing on the road, screaming into each other's faces. One of them was holding two dead rabbits, the other had three bulging waterskins. Svald, I think, was poking Baldur in the chest and Baldur slapped his hand away before drawing his axe. I left the donkey to graze and walked the rest of the way up to them. Just as Svald drew his own axe I stepped between the two.

Now, you might be thinking that stepping between two arguing northmen isn’t the smartest move, and you’d be right. But infighting among adventurers is common and as the party's greatest asset, you’re really the only person who can step in. Any other member will just make it worse, then you’ll have three fighting idiots, so the sooner you get involved the better.

As soon as they noticed me their body language shifted from near rage, to relief and I realized they thought they had lost me, well, they had lost me, and they knew it. But that lasted less than a second and they were back to pointing fingers and screaming in their native tongue. From what I could gather, one had gone out to hunt, and one had gone out to refill the skins at the same time. They each blamed the other and had obviously hurled insults they couldn’t take back.

Something you should know about Northmen is that they don’t forgive without contest. Once honor is questioned, it must be proven. So I grabbed the axe handle of both men. They stopped shouting and looked down at me. “Let go.” They didn’t at first but I flared my eyes, squinting against the sudden brightness of the sun.

Northmen are wary of all magic and released their weapons. Even one handed northmen axes were heavy and I grunted with the weight as the steel swung down to my sides. “Now,” I said, hefting the weapons next to the road. “A show of strength, you’ll wrestle to see who was correct, the winner gets to fuck me now while the other watches. The loser can have me tonight.”

Of course the northmen knew they could have me at any time, as do most adventurers, but giving it to them as a reward sets a precedent that you're in charge of your own body, and most, well, some, party members honor that.

Before I had finished my sentence the two were locked in a violent embrace, their biceps were larger than my thighs and they bulged with exertion. I left to fetch Jarl and lead him back to the road. Before I returned one of them had the other on his back and was raising his voice a victorious mocking chant.

I walked over to the brothers and the victor looked up at me with wild delight. He stood and moved to grab me but I raised a hand. He hesitated. I looked down at the loser who moved to get up but I dropped to my knees next to him and placed my hands on his chest, weakly pinning him to the ground.

I sucked my teeth at the lying northman, “Baldur right?” He nodded but averted his eyes. “A deal’s a deal.” I leaned down further, my elbows digging into his broad chest. “Your brother’s going to fuck me now, and you have to watch.” I raised my hips and pulled my skirt up over my ass cheeks. He grimaced, but didn’t move. To dishonor a deal would only bring him more shame. I took his cheek in one hand, turning his head toward me, before pressing my lips against his. The hard lines of his face softened and he returned the kiss.

Strong hands grabbed my hips and I exhaled with the sudden lifting of my hips. I locked my eyes with Baldur but they rolled into my head as his brother pushed into me. Did I mention Northmen are almost twice the size of normal men? My mouth opened and I instinctively tried to crawl forward, away from the giant cock that threatened to tear my taint. My feet kicked helplessly at the dirt as the giant man held me pinned against his brother.

My pussy stretched to its limit as the crown passed my opening, then stretched further as his girth penetrated deeper. I squealed in pain and began to have second thoughts about the whole thing. My fists beat against Baldur’s rock hard chest and even he found amusement in my plight. “Wait, wait, Svald fucking waiaaah –”

He didn’t wait. He stuffed me so full of cock I could practically taste it. My organs were pushed aside, my cervix was punched six inches deeper into me and by the time I felt his hips against my ass, my eyes were crossed and I was drooling like an imbecile across Baldur’s chest.

He pulled the club he called a cock half out of me and shoved it back in. “Im…” I breathed, but I couldn’t find enough words to make a sentence, “Cum. Fuck. No. Gods. Fuck.” My asshole thrashed and jerked as I came almost instantly on the trunk of Svalds big fucking cock. Svald laughed and began slowly fucking me.

My cheek slid through the pool of my own drool on Baldur’s chest and I breathed short quick inhales as I cried in pleasure. Baldur watched in envy and I was soon wearing a stupid smile as his brother fucked me the way only a northman can. I’m not sure how long he used me but I watched the wheel of at least three wagons pass.

The thought of an old tinker, or a traveling family watching me get fucked on the side of the road was just as thrilling as the enormous cock that hammered against my cervix. I lost track of my climaxes and eventually let Baldur suck one of my tits. Svald’s long strokes slowed slightly and his hands tightened around my bruised hips. I was hugging Baldur’s big head as he sucked my nipple when I felt it, warm seed forcefully filling my womb.

If you haven’t been bred by your party yet, I would highly recommend it. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as feeling full and warm from the inside out. Svald’s hot cum spilled into me with great heavy flexing pulses from his cock. My hips lifted as his giant hands spread my ass cheeks further and he fucked every last drop into me before dropping me atop his brother like a piece of half eaten meat.

Baldur shoved me off of him and I lay on the side of the road, a discarded prize, used to completion. I pulled myself up into the wagon, and the wet warmth oozed out of me. The brothers led Jarl down the road and I lay against the cabbages, daydreaming about Baldur taking me that evening.

Hopefully this gives you some idea how crucial a tool conflict resolution is to being an effective Heal Slut. Don’t worry, you haven’t seen the last of Svald and Baldur, but our adventures at White Wall Keep are a story for another day.

Until next time, stay slutty.