Patches and the Ambush!

(( My first story on here, hope you like it! ))

Patches, or Paul Anthony Trevor Charles Harley Esquire Sam the 7th, loved to travel. Be it from his front door and down the street, or half way across the world, the man couldn't get enough of the outside world, the only problem with his traveling was his clothing.

A fine, dark purple, velvet tophat sat atop his head, leading down to a pale and calm face with a fine pair of muttonchops that started at his ears and lead down to the sides of his chin. A monocle rested over his left eye, the metal painted over so it was as purple as his tophat, the chain silver, leading down to his coat pocket. The coat was cut short in the front and was longer in the back, split down the middle towards the bottom, creating two tails for his outfit, also the same color as his dark purple tophat. His pants were black and tight, showing off his natural bulge that he was so proud of. The outfit was finished with a pair of black, thigh-high leather boots that his pants covered to the ankle. The very last piece of clothing he had on was his white gloves, tight on his hands, the knuckles studded with amethysts gems.

While Patches traveled in his fine clothing, many of the 'lesser' people would either glare at him or stare in awe of the fine outfit, and a small few would dare throw something at him, only to be met with fisticuffs. Patches was rich, he had power, and he had a big dick, life was good.

A short while after leaving his home Patches made his way outside the village, heading towards a shade tree he enjoyed spending most of his day under. His guards didn't like him traveling alone, no one at his mansion did, but the man could handle himself just fine, he was about to prove it.

Reaching the large oak tree, Patches was nearly ready to sit down when a man, poorly dressed at that, emerged from behind the tree. He held a rusted dagger in one hand, his skin dirty, his clothes ragged. Three more men followed after the first, along with two women, each one attractive, but still dirty. Patches didn't mind really, he screwed farmers daughters in barns that smelt of week old shit.

"You're gonna give us all your clothes and money!" Said the man with the knife, waving it around as if to be intimidating.

"I assure you I will not be giving up my clothes or money." Patches said, his voice cool, he sounded bored.

"Me and me friends think you are! Bobo! Get your ass out here!"

Coming from around a tree was the biggest man Patches had ever seen. Patches was a good six feet tall, but this man had to be at least nine, and he was extremely muscular, with a big head, a massive torso, thick legs, and hands that could crush a mans skull. He was either the leader, or the muscle, Patches figured the muscle.

"Now, hand over that there coat," said the first man, waving his blade around. Patches shrugged his shoulders and did as told. Removing his coat, he spent his sweet time folding it and then setting it on the gro