A Page of Bravoy

Hello all,

Generally I'm a lurker, but I figured I'd take part in the story writing contest and this is my submission. I hope you enjoy it, though it might seem long. Without further ado, A Page of Bravoy.

Topknot

Futanari, transformation, oral, group sex

10/10/11

A Page of Bravoy

The land of Bravoy; known for its unrivaled power. Its might is the ire of the world; its wrath, the terror of kings. Power in Bravoy comes in many forms. There is the power of the Regent; unquestioned and dreaded. There is the power of His Holy Eminence; absolute and undeterred. There is also the power of the pagan gods, secretly exercised in dank alleys and hidden alcoves of Bravoy’s squares. The most ancient, potent and ubiquitous amongst these powers however, is the power of harlotry.

Whores rule Bravoy; not with swords; not with curses or threats of eternal damnation, but with carnal pleasures that ensnare and manipulate the wills of men. Many believe whores to be a pox on Bravoy; spreaders of disease and moral corruption, but those with power know the truth, and whimper helplessly as their cocks and cunts are played like the instruments of a virtuoso. Outwardly, they denounce the evils of the whores and their filthy practices, but behind veiled windows and bolted doors they beg the whores for forgiveness; their dicks, erect and their twats, swollen and dripping.

As Bravoy has its regent; as the Holy Ministry has its eminence and the pagan worshippers their shamans, so too does harlotry have its herald, and her name is Imas. The Regent rules the castle, the Eminence has his grand cathedral and the shamans manage to carve out their own clandestine sanctuaries. Imas, has Cooley Square all to herself; a district in the capital city of Rustow. Behind the open markets, street performers, and taverns lies Imas’ intricate network of brothels and bordellos. At the heart of this web rests her own domicile where she personally performs for anyone capable of affording her prices. This was something Erich would soon come to find out for himself.

A left at the Fountain of Cooley, down the alcove between the Sun Tavern and the fisher’s market. Erich had to remind himself how to navigate Cooley Square. He had been walking for over an hour. His throat was dry and his legs were stiff, making the Sun Tavern look incredibly appetizing. He knew though, that it was out of the question to make any stops until his message had been delivered. Erich was a royal page, sent by the Regent himself to deliver a parchment to the Scarlet Freesia; a well-known bathhouse of Rustow. Getting there was easy if one was going through the front door. Erich however, was going through the rear entran