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Stand-alone stories

 

 

 

This was written, oh, EONS ago as a response to the demand that "the characters depicted in stories must be at least 18 years of age". Just a piece of fun. No creatures (save a toad) were severely harmed in the making of this frivolity.

 

Underage

Deworyk paused momentarily in his overexcited slobbering and merely stared down at Gwaell.

"Can't?" he echoed. "What do you mean, can't do it? Are you impotent or what?"

"Definitely not!" Gwaell bristled slightly, head tilted back so that he could still look down his stubby nose at his two companions, even though they both towered way above his slender four-foot tall frame. "But, well, you're underage."

"What does impotent mean?" Aillomias blinked in confusion. "And why can't you hold his hand if he's underage?"

"That's what I'd like to know, too!" Deworyk cried out. "Besides, I'm so not underage. I'm full two years old!"

"Shut up, both of you," Gwaell sounded bored. "Sheesh, how can that moron of a writer expect me to perform in these conditions? Throws me in with a two-year old and a kiddo who doesn't understand innuendo even if it jumped up and bit him in the nose!"

"I'm no kiddo!" Aillomias said crossly and plopped down on a large boulder. "I'm 134 human years old! I'll be going to school soon!"

The severe pout didn't quite match the perfectly sculpted lines of his elven body that would've made any figure-conscious surfer die of envy, if any such poor wretches had been around to see it. To make sure that the other two noticed his displeasure, Aillomias folded his bare, muscular arms across his wide chest and sulked.

Gwaell looked appraisingly at the sight right before his eyes over metal-framed glasses. He was clearly beginning to have second thoughts in the presence of the pumped-up elf.

"Forget about human years, baby," he purred and climbed to sit on Aillomias's knee, then cursed and kicked his robes out of the way. "Damn this stupid thing she makes me wear... Now, how about I tell you a bit more closely about this hand-holding thing, okay? You see, there may be hands involved, but it's not necessarily your hand I'd want to be holding..."

Aillomias yelped, then blushed heavily and tried to hide behind his hair when Gwaell's chubby little hand found its way inside his breeches.

"And you claim you can't do it with me, did I get it right?" Deworyk watched in disbelief as the baby-faced wizard ignored the elf's confused protests and continued to fondle something inside his clothing.

"That's right," Gwaell nodded. "You said yourself that you're only two. The age limit's eighteen. So, sorry. No sex for you."

"But I'm in ripe middle age already!" Deworyk wailed. "Another year, one and a half maximum, and I'll be dead of old age!"

"No concessions." Gwaell glared at him before turning his attention back to the elf.

"What about him?" Deworyk pointed at Aillomias, still unwilling to give up. "You said yourself he's just a kid!"

"On second thoughts, he looks C and feels C quite adult enough," Gwaell mumbled, more distracted by the moment. "Mmm yess baby, that's the way..."

"If his parents see what you're doing to their kid, you're in trouble," Deworyk said gleefully. "And I think I'll go right now and tell them."

"Shut up!" Gwaell tried to sound threatening and failed. "You heard the writer -C he's over eighteen, and that's all that counts!"

A casual passer-by stopped, screamed and ran to beat Aillomias on the head with an umbrella. "Oh, you disgusting man, get your filthy hands off that poor boy!"

"No! No! It was he who assaulted me!" the elf cried, while Gwaell granted the silly mortal one withering glare and snapped his fingers.

A mildly astonished-looking toad blinked a few times, then realized that the umbrella that nobody was holding any more was about to fall on its head, and tried to scramble away. It was too slow, though, because right then C THWAP.

"Disgusting," Gwaell murmured, watching mesmerized how Deworyk retracted his tongue and began to eat the still more astonished toad with much smacking of lips.

"Whatever." Deworyk pulled one frog leg from his mouth, examined it for a moment and then pushed it back. "I think I'll go tell the writer that she didn't manage to get us have sex with each other after all, simply because you're being a prissy."

"Not so quickly," Gwaell corrected and nonchalantly tossed a spell over his shoulder. For a moment it glittered in the air, then caught Deworyk before he had time for more than a startled 'eep!' and dragged him towards the other two. There was a mischievous glint in the wizard's eye. "I think I'll overlook this age thing for now. I want to know exactly what kind of things you can do with that tongue..."

The writer watched the resulting tangle for a moment and then turned away. "But I don't think I do, after all."

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