!

Again, Roger could not tell how long he had used Flare. He had to admit that his loads had been magnificent, spewing into her womb, spraying her face and hair, drenching, alternatively, her smooth, straight back or flat, heaving belly with ropes of goo, coating her perfect asscheeks with waves of perfect manchowder. But when he finally released his iron grip on the squealing, wailing Elf's frantically humping ass, the sexually and physically exhausted pointy ear delight collapsed upon her cum filled belly quickly and gratefully to the soft grass of the prairie.

Looking in awe at the pints of colloidal wadd backing out of Flare's widely stretched pussy finally prevailed upon him that his just concluded sexual 'performance' with the lush Elf had not been a hallucination. He had really done all that!

He instinctively shuddered mentally. Just a part of his recent tryst with Flare would have burst his heart back home!

It was time to stop!

Until he could figure out what was going on around him, and to him, it was better to stop!

Not that his balls or indefatigable cock needed a break, far from it! He felt nearly no fatigue in this place! Even after screwing his brains out, he had hardly broken a sweat! And his...cock! Still rigid and swollen to ridiculous dimensions! And he felt like he could pin another dozen Elves!

This place was utterly wonderful, a man's wet dream!

Then he remembered who had supposedly made this place! Loki was supposed to be the Trickster in Norse legend, a practical joker, as well as...moderately preoccupied with females...any and anybody's female! It would be like him to create a world that would resemble a man's wet dream dreamland!

Then he looked at the luscious figure of the Elf he had just fucked nearly unconscious. She was still breathing hard, her ball achingly beautiful buttocks still quivered, but otherwise she seemed okay. She had a little smile on her face, which was always good to see after fucking a woman! It looked like he had done no permanent damage!

But, damn, he had really lost it there for a moment, or hour! He would have to be more careful! There was a down side to being hung like a hentai character! You could fuck your partner and guide into a coma without realizing it!

Without a mall rat-like Elf gnawing on your schlong, Roger then began to feel somewhat...worn, he had to admit. Suddenly taking a rest sounded, and felt, like a good idea! Dropping to his knees he collapsed...that is, rested alongside the lush naked Elf. Cuddling to her back, his still swollen cock nesting into her deep asscrack, he reached around her right ribcage and cupped her nicely full and firm right tit. Like on a honeymoon, he quickly dozed off.

Some indeterminate time later, after what again seemed like hours laying together quietly in the not too hot, not too bright sun, Flare abruptly jumped up.

Roger, awakened by Flare's movement, looked up, not without some alarm. Was she reaching for her sword? He saw her looking down at him. To his great relief she was smiling oh so sweetly at him!

Roger quickly rose to his feet.

Flair's smile dropped just as suddenly after he stood erect. She wasn't looking at his face anymore!

He glanced down to where she was looking to see that his back wasn't the only part of him erect! His monstrously dimensioned cock was once again jutting far out before him. His testicles were swollen so large that they no longer fit between his thighs! In fact, his jutting meat was drooling foot long coiled strands of precum, nearly to the ground!

When he looked back at Flare he caught her intense stare at his bone. He couldn't judge whether it was horror or intense desire that fixated her gaze.

After a pregnant moment, when she glanced up to see his veritably subconscious and all too male grin at her fixation on his erection, she rapidly tore her eyes away from his 'cocky' display, a furious blush on her beautiful face.

Looking around the ground for their clothes, she spoke while trying not to look at his divinely inspired organ, "S-sire, w...w...we should be going."

Roger could see that she was having a difficult time keeping her eyes off his low hanging balls and divinely drooling sex pole, and realizing it was probably wise, for the time being, to follow her directions, he went for his pants.

He had no idea of the layout of the land, the governments, laws, and such...except that she had wanted him dead from the moment she saw him until she caught sight of his cock! He'd better learn allot more about this place before he started out on his own! Besides, he didn't know why Flare had tried first to kill him, and seemed very capable of doing so, only to try to split herself asunder on his prick once she saw it!

She was probably right that they should be moving on.

He quickly took three steps that brought him to his pants. As he donned them, he noticed that his formerly absolutely rigid cock obediently began to soften as soon as he started stuffing it into his pants. As if, unlike his previous life on Earth, it could read his mind and knew when to rear its sloppy head and when not to!

Was this place great or what?

Flare was much less...distracted once his meat was safely tucked away. Even better, she didn't try to kill him again, either, once it was out of sight! "M'Lord," she repeated, "we should be moving."

"Wait, I have a few questions about you and this place..."

She wrapped her tunic around her still very impressive baby feeders, then turned to her horse, calmly grazing nearby. On the way, demonstrating impressive athletic skill, she pulled on her tights and boots without breaking stride. Over her shoulder, seeing Roger leering at her pant wrapped ass, she replied, "I will try to answer all your questions, those that I can, as we ride. I must travel this day!"

Even the massive, Elf towering horse posed no great difficulty for her. A combination of a surprising high leap, for her size, and an athletic leg over mounted him. She turned to where Roger stood, somewhat intimidated by the height of the animal's flanks. She held out her hand, "Come, my steed will be easily able to carry both of us."

Roger, silently declining her hand, nonetheless managed to mount the horse using the same combination of leap and leg over. He surprised himself with the strength of his legs in the leap and the reflexes he showed in the following leg over. He was certain he couldn't have done that, without some serious practice beforehand, back home!

This place was great!

He settled in behind the elf. She immediately pressed her firm, round buns against the anaconda-snake like bulge in his pants as the horse began a steady, effortless gait.

They rode lightly. Roger thought that the sun had not moved in the sky since he had met Flare, after what seemed to have been hours of fucking. Now they rode over miles of prairie, and the day still appeared to not have advanced.

After about a half hour of riding, Roger couldn't hold his questions back any longer. Wrapping his arms around Flare's delightfully firm, smooth and tiny waist, he leaned against her surprisingly strong back and softly spoke into her big, pointed left ear, "How about explaining some of this?" He felt her shudder as he breathed into her ear.

Her voice was not hard, but protective. "Certainly, M'Lord! But first, I must ask you for certain...information."

"Oh, like what?"

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, well my wife, Jane..."

"You are married!?" Her voice was now hard.

Roger winced. Everything he had experienced with Flare since getting here, most especially sex-wise, came roaring back to him, like his life passing before his eyes, only now in the off-color light of a married man exposed-with an Elf! How was he going to explain this to Jane? Of more immediate importance, how was he going to explain this to Flare without her taking her sword to him! "Ah...yes, I am!" he reluctantly replied, finally.

He expected to be thrown off the horse within the next moment.

They rode in silence for a long, long moment. Then she asked, "Why are you here?"

Her voice sounded more...formal.

Which was better than angry, as in 'ready to cleave him in two' angry!

"As I said, my wife, Jane, has been kidnapped and sent here..."

"How do you know that?"

"Another woman, who knows of this place and who sent me here, told me. She said a woman by the name of Desiree Loki..."

"Desiree?! You said her name was Desiree?!"

"Yes, Loki, first name Desiree. Why, do you know her?"

Another long moment of riding silence. "Does she have long black hair, is very tall for an elf..."

"Wait, yes she is tall, as tall as me, but she's no elf."

"Well, you are partially right. Technically she is not a member of my people, but did you notice that her ears were..."

Roger nodded dejectedly. "Yes, pointed. I noticed."

"And you are certain that she has...kidnapped your wife?"

"All I can be."

Another moment of silence. Then, "Then I feel better about...us...earlier! You see, you are no longer married."

"What?"

"She is lost to you, Sir Roger. No human female, or any other female, has every escaped her clutches..."

"But she is MY wife, dammit! That's why I'm here! Why do people keep telling me to give up on her!"

"Desiree may not be an elf, but she is a monster! A monster that lives off of sex with females! Believe me! Your wife, by now, not only cannot escape Desiree's clutches, but doesn't want to leave her! Don't you see? By now the monster has enslaved her! Even if you can find her, she cannot-will not leave Desiree! No female can!"

"I will not give up! I must try! Can you get me to this Desiree?"

Flare looked over her shoulder at Roger, shock on her face. "She will enslave me, out of spite for helping you! And your wife will still refuse to leave her!"

Roger sat a moment. "Look, maybe you should explain what is going on here."

Flare nodded, leaning back against Roger's strong chest. "This is the land of Loki..."

"Some of it was explained to me already. Some god..."

"THE God Loki!" she interrupted firmly.

Roger knew enough to know that arguing further with Flare over the status of Loki would gain him nothing. He'd been down that road before with most girls he had dated! He was experienced at capitulating on such relatively minor points. "Yes, of course. Well, he...founded this...land as a kind of...playground for himself."

"This land, and the elves and other little people, but especially the elves, are pledged to his service." She wriggled her plump buns against his bulging loins. "All his services!"

"But, why did you react the way you did when you met me? First you tried to kill me, and I had it explained to me your were...programmed by Loki..."

"LORD Loki!"

"Yes...Lord Loki. He programmed you to hate males. But why...didn't you finish me?"

Flare's head dipped, then she blushed! Turned beet red! "This is...difficult to explain. And highly personal. Lord Loki ruled here for many eons. He created the elvish race to service Him. All of Him! But especially a certain blessed part of Him!"

She hesitated a moment before she went on. "I am nearly five thousand Earth years old..."

Roger's jaw dropped.

"Elves, like everyone and everything here, are immortal! I remember Lord Loki. I have had the privilege of servicing Him! But I have not seen him in over three thousand years."

Again she hesitated. Then, quickly, she spoke, "You have Lord Loki's Cock!"

Roger blinked. "What?!"

Solemnly she nodded. "There can be no doubt about it! The size, the smell, the taste, the aura, all the traits were there. I have...serviced His Organ many times, just thousands of years ago. You match it exactly. I recognized It the first time I saw It!"

Suddenly he smiled, remembering Flare's reaction to his first opening of his pants. Ms Hobson really did do him a favor! Then he started thinking... "Since all you elves are...dedicated to his..."

"Cock? Yes, we are sworn to serve the Divine Cock! It is what Lord Loki wanted most in us! I can't help but love his...Cock!"

"And I have it? The real thing? Every elf here would recognize it, like you did?"

Flare merely nodded. Then, "Every Elf would recognize it, without a doubt!"

"In that case, do all your...sister Elves have the same...religious conviction as you do?" Roger's face was a mask of pure, unadulterated opportunistic male lust.

Flare could feel his leer on the back of her neck! She looked ruefully at him over her shoulder. "Technically yes! But you couldn't get away revealing yourself as a man before more than a couple Elves at a time..."

She then read his mind by looking at his leer. "Wait! Listen to me and forget your fantasies of endless orgies with helpless, mind fucked Sisters of mine! Lord Loki, as you claim to already know, was hated by the other, inferior Norse Gods and their envy eventually, and, I am certain, temporarily forced Him away from His land. Until He could return, He realized His elvish race was susceptible to unscrupulous males who could penetrate His land and Elves! As you have no doubt noticed, all elves are most attractive to human, and nonhuman, males. That is because you men are similar in your tastes in this matter with Lord Loki! Lord Loki knew this! In fact, he probably gave the human race their desire for women! To protect us and His lands He gave us an undying hatred of any man! And the strength, skill and will to dispose of any we see! We will kill, without further thought or reasoning, any male who trespasses our land. It was how we removed the evil beasts who drove Lord Loki out of our lands in the first place!

"Now Lord Loki, in His infinite wisdom, knew that there will be more men trying to take advantage of this blissful land! He knew that the best way to keep interlopers out of His lands is to strike back at them by depriving them of their own women. If men try to take my Sisters, we will discourage them by taking their women in return, preferably by taking their women first! Therefore, secondarily, He instilled a...desire in every elf and related little person: the lust for human female flesh! He also gave us the capability of seducing any woman!"

"You mean every elf here is a lesbian?"

"Amongst other habits, yes. As Lord Loki spoke: 'An Elf shows no greater love that for some man's woman!'"

"Have you..."

She smiled over her shoulder. "'Fucked' someone's wife? Not in the past two hundred years..."

"Why so long..."

"Is that how Desiree got your wife, you wanted to see your precious little wife serving under a lesbian?"

Now it was Roger's turn to blush. "Okay, you caught me! I'm a perv! Now, why so long?"

"We are not monolithic. We have different tasks to do at different times. Right now I happen to be a scout for my Queen Layla. There apparently haven't been many human females crossing over on their own lately for I haven't run into any free roaming human females. Of course we could collect women by crossing back over, like Desiree does routinely. As a group of Elves, we just haven't felt the need to.

"Occasionally, though, there have been 'migrations' of females to our side. Movements which we welcome with open arms, mind you! We haven't had a major one since, what was that era called? The French Revolution? That was one of the biggest migrations of Earth females since the largest, in the 11th Century, when the Vatican proclaimed celibacy for the priesthood. And these females were well educated, all spoke French, you know, and sophisticated, wore those long gowns with their bosoms popping out. And easy! You wouldn't believe how quick they were to invite you into their saddle!

"Of course, Earth woman are notorious for being easy to bed by elves!"

Roger, somewhat sheepishly, interrupted, "Would you like to show me, sometime, your...technique?"

She gave him a stern look. "We don't seduce women for the voyeuristic pleasure of men!"

"Okay! End of story. Now, you officially hate men. Except those that have Loki's prick! How many men are that?"

"Just you!"

Roger stared ahead in shock. "You mean I'm the only male in a land of men killers with a cock that they all want! Now, unless I travel without pants, how can I get around without getting my head lopped off?"

"First, you had better stop acting like a stupid married man who lost his wife to a lesbian sex monster and now thinks he's in an Elf sex-candy store!"

After she let it sink in, she went on, "I will disguise you as a female...Arcastrian. They are traders and move from village to village without suspicion, and some can achieve your bulk and stature. They are usually well endowed...in the chest, so I'll have to find something to give you a bosom. But they wear long cloaks, with hoods, so I can cover most of your male traits. If you're careful, you could get by the villages and towns. I'll set up your wardrobe tonight, when we make camp."

"That's very kind of you, Flare!" Roger said, sincerely. Then, typical male impulsiveness, he reached up from her minute waist and slid his hands under her tunic.

With his initial movement under her nicely filled out tunic, she stiffened dramatically, every muscle flexed.

He bravely continued until her firm, warm boobs filled each of his hands with delightful warm mass.

"Sir Roger!" she gasped, firmly. Then she moved her right hand up to grip his right wrist. With Roger's eyes widening in shock, demonstrating quite incredible strength for such a delightful little creature, she twisted her hand around his wrist and then smoothly pulled the hand out of her tunic.

She didn't have to pull out his left hand, for a chastened Roger 'voluntarily' removed it.

"Thank you, Sir Roger!" she said with a little smile.

Then, suddenly, she gasped again, this time quite involuntarily. Roger was flexing his...organ, under her!

It was Roger's turn to smile as he felt the Elf tense up again. She had partially sat on his cock, after all. Semi-erect, its usual state, it was embarrassed by Flare's full, deep cracked ass. Now he simply began flexing his monster, making it swell under her.

Soon it would be lifting her from between her buttocks!

He put his hands back to work, this time along her nearly bare midriff. She apparently would tolerate that kind of contact, for she didn't knock him off the horse! He gently roamed her soft, smooth skin of her narrow waist, working on the firm musculature underneath.

Slowly, but steadily, she started to relax those tensed muscles. But her buns stayed firm as they rode his enlarging prick. He could feel heat on his cock. Wet heat.

When she shuddered and squirmed upon his pole, Roger screwed up his courage and, slowly and gently, worked his hands back up under her tunic.

She mumbled a "No!" when his fingertips found the swelling bottoms of her boobs. But that was all she did as he advanced.

She stiffened dramatically when he captured in his greedy clutches both of her more than hand filling tits. Still, that was all she did.

They rode on in silence, Roger holding her by her tits instead of her waist.

Soon he felt her nipples harden and pry into his palms.

After a couple more minutes of tension from her, generating uncertainly in Roger, the Elf, with an abrupt sweet sigh, seemed to melt into his arms. She also began squirming upon his nearly fully erect cock.

For long, delicious moments they rode silently, Flare sighing occasionally, leaning back against him and squirming upon him while he manipulated her suck sacks like they were firm handfuls of dough.

After some long, luxurious minutes of boob groping, and without warning, Roger slipped his hands from under the top, moved around under the elf's armpits, and completely pulled open her leather tunic. Her one and a half handfuls of firmly jutting and perfectly conical tits seemed to leap out into his waiting hands.

Flare now did nothing at all to inhibit him. Instead of resisting, she leaned back against him and sighed, giving him unfettered access to her charms. Her buns started flexing, actually gripping his cock bulge they sat upon!

He pulled and pinched on her long, rigid nipples, making the elf jerk and gasp in his hands and upon his lap.

In response to his nipple work, and seemingly quite impulsively, she reached behind her and filled her hands with his pants enclosed, nearly erect organ, making it jump dramatically in her grip. "Oh, Master, you are so big! I am so happy I met you!"

"You tried to kill me when we met," Roger whispered passionately in her ear, his eyes closed in rising lust.

"That was before I knew of your...assets! Let me suck you again, M'Lord? Please?"

Her lust filled, pleading words gripped him, his heart pounding, filling his 'divine' cock fully. Not used to ignoring offers of head jobs from beautiful and talented elves, he huskily replied, "Want to stop here?" He hurriedly looked around for a good place to 'rest'.

In reply she agilely spun around upon her horse's back to face him. With a big grin she removed her tunic and tucked it in her saddlebag. Then she leaned back and thrust her big boobs at him, nearly into his face.

"You are good on a horse!" Roger exclaimed, pawing and groping her out thrust suck sacks.

She laughed and pulled open his pants, letting his fully erect cock flip up and out, spraying her with gooey precum. Pulling and milking his prick to full erection, she stared, completely enraptured, at the slime dribbling head only inches from her nose. The more she milked his meat, the more thick, wormy precum drooled down her bare chest and tights covered lap.

Roger couldn't believe what he was seeing! She had literally begged him for a blow job!

What a wonderful place this is!

"Before you chow down on me," Roger interrupted her milking. "Why did you go nuts under me, you know, when I first...uh..."

She looked up at him with a little smile. Her hands, now coated with ropes of tacky man-goo, didn't miss a stroke. "Penetrated me? It's a reaction you better be prepared for, if you ever...get close to one of my sisters! Think about it! I'm supposed to hate the very sight of you! In fact, kill you on sight! Yet, you have the most precious thing in the universe to me! I couldn't resist you, not once I realized what you had between your legs. But my mind was so accustomed to killing anything that even resembled you, that I had a...conflict within me. Between my conscious mind and the subconscious programming Lord Loki gave all of us! When you took me all I could see was a hated man violating me, while all I could feel was Lord Loki's cock blessing me with his presence! It took awhile for Lord Loki's...your cock to straighten out my conflicted mind."

Roger nodded, starting to pant under her administrations. "I think I understand. I think I've seen the same thing in virgins back home. They spend their entire adult lives, up to the point when they have to submit their virginity, holding that their virginity was sacred, the most important thing in their lives. Then, with the first thrust up their bellies, they have to reconcile the fact that virginity isn't important anymore. Someone named Freud first wrote about it, I think."

"That's nice, M'Lord!" Flare said, nodding, not taking her eyes off his cum covered glans. Then she stuck her foot long tongue out!

Roger's eyes widened at the sight of that tongue, descending inch by inch, until it could've reached between her jutting tits without her dropping her head!

Wrapping the prehensile tongue around the top part of his jerking meat, she began lapping up his coiled, tacky cum like an anteater feeding on a nest of ants. As she cleaned him off she added cockhead buffing action to her lapping. Soon his cockhead was as bloated as a fist sized, fully ripened peach. His monstrous pole started jerking and jumping in her clutching fists.

Roger moaned a warning as the velvety friction of tongue against man-flesh built dramatically. If she kept that up he wouldn't last long!

Flare immediately dropped a long nailed hand to the heavy balls still in his pants. Digging her nails viciously into his left nut, she pulled both softball sized testicles vigorously out of his pants. Rapidly twisting her incredible tongue about his cockhead, she determinedly milked first one ball, then the other, forcing another monumental load of colloidal woman-food into his wildly jerking, bloated prick.

Wincing, Roger was loosing control, "Easy, baby, or I'll shoot...too... soon-oh fuck!"

When she heard Roger gasp out his warning, Flare moaned in anticipation and wrapped her lips around the tip of his glans, around where his inch long piss slit now poured out a continuous wormy stream of precum.

Then she proceeded to swallow him, inch by arm thick inch.

With the torrid moistness of Flare's mouth descending relentlessly, obstinately engulfing his iron bar hard prick, Roger knew he was doomed. Giving up the ghost, he leaned back and felt the first pulses of his spewgasm.

As the large horse walked down the path, Roger writhed on its back, pumping jet after cupful sized jet of testicle pudding into the greedy elf's mouth, down her working, swallowing throat, and, occasionally, out her flared nostrils.

After what seemed hours of blissful eruption (Actually more like ten or fifteen minutes, he would estimate later, when his mind was less distracted.), Roger came to his senses clearly enough to look at the elfin cocksucker bent over his bared loins. Flare, eyes tearing, was still gulping down wadd, her cheeks hollowing and expanding, alternately, as she worked on finishing off the mouthfuls of manchowder that had escaped her oral trap during Roger's blissful moments of orgasm. He saw two long, worm like strands of coagulated man jelly running from her nostrils to her inch long nipples and then to her lap.

She would get to that, too, once his genitals had been cleaned.

It was a good half hour later before Roger returned to reality sufficiently to sit up. Flare was just finishing lapping up the last of his load from his still hugely swollen testicles. Once he sat up, she dutifully tucked his nuts away, then took up his still prodigiously hung, but now only partially engorged, cock. She milked him a few times, licking up any residual strands of cum that bubbled out of the slit at the tip, then, after the most tender of kisses upon that tip, tucked his anaconda, not without some difficulty, into his pants.

She looked up at him with a luscious smile. "Thank you!" she said.

"Uh, for what? I should be thanking you! It was fantastic!"

"For feeding me, M'Lord! Your essence...tastes so good!" she matter-of-factly replied, as if it were common knowledge. As she spun back forward on the horse' back, she added, "Just like Lord Loki!"

Roger suddenly noticed that the sun was no longer so high in the sky. Time, or something, had moved besides just what had been in his balls!

"We will camp in about an hour, Sir Roger." Flare said, noticing his estimation of the suns azimuth.

Roger looked...guilty, "Look, I hate to tell you but I'm not a knight!"

She looked back at him. "Force of habit! When you've got a lance of the size and power of yours, you have to rate at least a 'Sir'! After all, you do have a God's organ!"

Roger told himself he would definitely have to thank Ms. Hobson when (and if) he got back!

He decided to change the subject. "Tell me about your land, Flare."

"Of course...M'Lord! I have not been much of a guide!" she sat up straight, still deliciously topless, thrusting those perfect tits out before her. "The Land of Loki is of uncertain breath and dimensions. No one, that I have heard of, has mapped it in its entirety. The Lands ruled by Queen Layla, the Alfheim or Elven Lands, can by crossed by a fast horse, from the World Ocean at the Eastern Territory to the Impassible Mountains at the far NorthWest, in thirty-five days hard ride."

"Do you measure distances?"

"There is no need. We use the time it takes to travel. For instance, after we camp tonight, we will be just over one day's travel to the nearest village, Elfthring. Which is good for us, for it will give me another evening to help you disguise your...maleness."

"How can you measure in travel time? Aren't different horses slower or faster?"

"True, in the immediate time. You noticed that the sun has moved since I...serviced you?"

"Yea! It seemed that the sun hadn't moved since I first...met you! How did that happen?"

"Here distance doesn't matter, time does. All travel is preordained to take a specific length of time, usually. So it will take us some fraction of one day after another day's travel to get to our destination."

"Is this the only land in Loki's Land?"

"Oh no, just the only civilized one!" She looked back at him with surprise, or was it fear, of his lack of knowledge. "You do have much to learn, Sir Roger!"

"Just call me Roger! Use the Sir, or Master, when I'm on top of you!" he lustfully growled. His hands slipped around her totally nude waist. When his right hand slid down her smooth, flat belly that disappeared into her soft tights she grabbed his wrist and stopped him with his fingertips atop her jutting, bald mound and just short of his goal.

Pulling his hand out, again with impressive strength, Flare still spoke sweetly, "None of that! Do not think you can take liberties with me, Sir Roger! You depend on me to survive here! I, alone, will decide IF and when we...love! Now, let's continue:

"There are many lands around my Elven Land. First, though, we are presently in the Southern Territories of Alfheim, Here and the Eastern Territories are bordered by the World Ocean, and are the most peaceful of our lands. The Northern and Western Territories are more troublesome. Beyond the Northern Marches, which abut the Impassible Mountains farther to the West, are the Lands of the Dark Lords, also called Land of Jotunheim. Beyond the Western Marches of the Golden Mountains lie the lands which have no governments, culture, civilization. Those we call the Barbarian Lands, or Vanaheim, though calling them Barbarians gives them too much justice!"

"The Dark Lords?"

"Twelve ancient beings that inhabit the Dark Lands. They were made by the evil Gods of the Norse in order to drive Lord Loki away. But he fooled his enemies! He trapped the Dark Ones in the Dark Lands of Jotunheim, where it is always overcast and foggy! You see, their eyes are designed to see in the deep, dark realms of the mountains and fissures of the Land! They can see perfectly well in the darkest caverns! But they cannot stand bright..."

"Sunlight!" Roger snapped his fingers. "That's why its been so sunny today?"

"Yes, Lord Loki, in His Wisdom, gave control of the weather of Alfheim to our ElfQueen, Layla, and local weather to the Guild Elves! As long as she rules, they cannot spread their perpetual overcast into any part of the ElfLand. Without that overcast that perpetually covers the Dark Northern Lands, the Dark Lords cannot advance! They are not mad enough to invade a land they cannot see in, especially one protected by fierce Elvish Warriors armed to the teeth!" For emphasis she partially unsheathed her sword.

She didn't need to in Roger's case. The sound of that blade coming out of its scabbard sent chills up his spine.

No, those Dark Lords would have to be crazy to charge, literally blind, into a bunch of foaming at the mouth lessie Elves bent on defending their land!

Sheathing her sword, she went on, "There are other trouble makers, however, that can roam our Land. I will instruct you as to how to avoid or defeat them as we journey. But you will certainly meet some while you are here and will need to be able to deal with them! They can roam only at night, in these flat lands, but up North or West they are active day and night in the numerous dark fissures between the towering Golden or Impassible Mountains.

"In the Southern or Eastern Territories there are some Monsters and other Things that are able to raid because they can use small boats they beach on the coasts. So, though rare around these places, there is always a danger in the night! That is one of my callings, hunting down these beasts. You, too, must be ready to defend yourself. Can you use a sword?"

"Uh, no! I have never had to! Are you a Guild Elf?"

"Yes, I am," She said matter-of-factly. She looked back at him with some derision on her face, "If you cannot wield a sword, then what good are you?"

"Uh, I have a big dick?" Roger replied, quite sheepishly.

Her frown grew. "I'm serious, Sir...er...Roger! There will be times when you will have to defend yourself! I must...I will think of something! I just hope I do before a Flying CockBat violates you!"

"A what!?"

"Later, there, over there!" she exclaimed, pointing ahead to the left where a small grove of pine trees rested near a rapid and loud brook. "There we camp tonight! You can gather wood and...you can start a fire, Roger?"

"Of course!" He was starting to wish she'd start calling him 'Sir' again!"

"Very good! While you get the fire going, I'll...service my horse!"

Roger's eyebrows rose at her unusual terminology.

Roger carried Flare's saddlebags to a log that seemed to have been perfectly placed to form a backstop for a camp. The brook was a few feet behind him, a large, already cleared stretch of ground loomed before him. A towering boulder, some twenty feet high and twice as long sat ten feet or so to his right. A small strand of fragrant green pines began at the boulder and extend off some hundred feet behind it. And, to his left, Flare led her steed to some scrumptious (for a horse) tall green grass near the brook some thirty feet away.

Even the brook was running the correct direction, from the pines to the horse!

He couldn't of planned it better!

The sun was now visibly setting, beginning to pass behind the Easternmost edge of the pines.

Her saddlebags resembled slightly oversized 'Hollywood Western' saddlebags, except being about one half again larger. They felt reasonably heavy, maybe 75 pounds, and almost fully expanded when he put them down. There was quite a bit of metallic clanking when he did.

"I'll get some wood for a fire," Roger called out to Flare, who was beginning to brush her impressive chestnut and creme horse. He noticed that the still topless beauty hardly reached up to the magnificent beast's shoulder with her blond head!

Entering the small wood only after checking the back of the boulder for anything resembling a bat, he found that the wood gathering, like everything else around here, remarkably easy! It was almost as if someone had been here before him, arranging everything 'just right'! Clumps of branches and twigs collected according to needed size in almost exact cords where all around him! All you had to do was pick up an armful!

This place should be called Boy scout Land, camping was so...convenient here!

Bringing back an armful combination of both small twigs and larger branches, perfect for getting a rousing campfire going, Roger carefully put them down and arranged them about ten feet from the log in the wide, seemingly pre-prepared open area. When he rose he glanced at Flare and her horse.

And did a double take.

Flare wasn't brushing her horse anymore! She was standing at its left shoulder, looking like she was talking lovingly to her companion.

So far, so good. Totally 'National Velvet'. Without the fifteen year old Liz Taylor.

There was only one little abnormality: The horse was eagerly licking her naked tits! And it wasn't trying to lick some salt off her skin, either! The animal seemed to know what it was doing! That large, red slobbery tongue lapped a good half dozen times on her jutting right boob, then switched and did the exact same thing to her left!

It left her right nipple furiously erect, and it wouldn't stop on her left nipple until it matched the right!

That damn horse knew what it was doing!

Roger wished he was that damn horse, right then!

Those baby feeding beauties sure looked tasty!

Then, as the horse lapped her left tit, Flare, with serious emotion, wrapped her arms around her horse's neck and passionately kissed him on the snout! The horse, seemingly in charge now, pulled his head out of her arm grip and then started pushing Flare's head with his snout, quite demandingly, towards his bulging belly.

Then Roger saw it! That cock that had caught his attention when he first seen the horse. That 'horse' cock was extended, massively! No longer just a semi erect elephant trunk halfway to the ground! Now it was furiously erect and the head hovered stiffly just around a foot from the ground.

Had to be a meter long!

With a shaft the thickness of Roger's calf!

And, swinging between the horse's slightly spread hind legs, were a low hanging set of nuts the size of cantaloupe!

Once the horse had pushed Flare's head down enough for her to get a good look at what he presented, she was down, under him, in a flash! Kneeling on the grass, under his massive gut, she cupped his fist sized cockhead tenderly in both her dainty hands.

And a torrent of precum poured out of his prick to run in coiled, slimy rivulets between her fingers and down her bare arms!

Without further urging, the Elf brought the cum pissing glans to her lips and kissed the tip. When she pulled back at least three strands of wormy precum still connected her lips to her animal's cockhead.

The horse whinnied, taking a small step forward, and Flare barely had time to open her mouth wide before that monumental cock fucked right through her grasping hands to drive its mindless cockhead into her drooling mouth!

And what did she do with a veritable mouthful of horse cockhead?

She immediately began munching on the mouthful of horsecock! Eagerly! Roger could clearly hear her moans, slurps, gags twenty feet away! She was chowing down on that animal choad with as much enthusiasm, maybe even more, that she had on him earlier!

The horse whinnied again, this time in manful triumph, as its Elf babe noisily and eagerly serviced him. The babe was evenly swallowing more of him!

"Go for it, big guy!" Roger caught himself cheering, quietly to himself. Then he looked down and his own organ was rapidly getting up and ready!

And the heroic horse was going for it. Bobbing his awesome organ up and down, making the Elf keep up with him, he had her drooling massive streams of mixed precum and saliva down her lush, bare chest. He must have had nearly half of his organ in her gullet by now!

Then the ever resourceful Flare reached for his defenselessly hanging nuts! Grabbing a ball in each dwarfed hand, she sank her long nails in and instantly sealed the equine stud's fate.

With another whinny, only one of submission to his baser orgasmic instincts, the horse unloaded.

Seeming all at once.

Suddenly long streams of yellowish white, ropy cum was spewing from her nostrils and erupting between her lips and horsecock shaft. Her throat worked frantically, trying to keep up with the literally inhuman flow of semen.

But it wasn't to be mastered, only survived. On her knees, gripping the animal's cum makers in both hands, Flare tried to keep up with the spewing, but most exited her mouth almost as fast as it shot in.

Roger counted a good half dozen twin spurts out her nose before the beast's load was exhausted. He couldn't count how many viscous, tacky, lumpy mouthfuls of cream she swallowed before the horse permitted its softening cock to be removed from her wadd flooded mouth and throat.

When the satiated horse stepped gently to the side, leaving the Elf still on her knees, Flare looked like she had grown a beard. A yellow-white beard made up of ropes and slime that hung nearly to her navel!

Discreetly, Roger decided that he needed more wood, so he turned back to the little forest. He already had plenty of wood in his pants.

Roger waited until he heard Flare open her saddlebags before he returned to camp with his arms full of a conveniently placed wood log, for the overnight fire. Remarkably Flare showed no...signs of her 'servicing' her steed! Not a sign of the gallons of cum she had just been fed! She had even put her tunic on, though she left it open.

As she pulled pots and other implements out of her saddlebags, her delicious tits swayed so tightly that it immediately distracted Roger, freezing him at the edge of their camp.

She looked up at him, standing dumbly. "Set up the wood, I'll start the fire!"

Roger put his wood log down alongside the wood to start the fire, then he began rearranging his first load (of wood) as he was taught in the boy scouts. "I can start a fire, if you have a flint," he said, his male ego bruised by her self-sufficiency.

"No need for flints," she added, pulling a leather bag from her bag. It had a silvery fringe at the top and a silver shield-like label on the front. She reached in, pulled out a pinch of something and threw it onto the arranged wood.

The stuff sparked wildly as it fell, and went straight for the wood, ignoring the gentle breeze, even though it resembled shiny talcum powder. As soon as most of it had settled upon the wood, Flare mumbled something and the wood ignited!

Roger gawked at the sudden fire, then looked at the nonchalant Flare, "Okay, so now you can do magic as well as cut my head off?"

Flare looked at him with some surprise, "Magic! No, not Elves!" Then she hesitated, looking from Roger to the fire and then back. "Oh, flint! I understand. That is a form of fairy dust! It can be used for a number of things, though fire starting is its most practical. I guess you could call it magic, since you have to recite an...incantation to activate it! But its so commonly used around here that we don't consider it magical! You don't need to be a Mage or other magical figure to use fairy dust, for instance, so most don't call it magic. But I understand how you would consider it magic."

"Can I use fairy dust?"

"Certainly! That is, I hope you can memorize the incantations! That is all that is necessary to use fairy dust." She hesitated, then added, "But there are some in Loki's Land that do perform magic. Dangerous magic. What we call Black SexSpells!"

With the mention of 'Sex-spells', Roger's eyes lit up, "Oh, which are?"

Flare pulled two poles out of one side of her saddlebags. Each had a hook at the top. She drove the two poles into the ground opposite each other across the now 'ready' fire. Then, from the other bag, she pulled a complete leg o' lamb and handed it to Roger! "Would you please be so kind to hang this?" she asked with the sweetest smile.

As Roger did so, she bent over to rummage back into her saddlebags, thrusting a pair of heart stopping buns encased in painted on tights right into Roger's face. He nearly burned his hanging out of his mouth tongue as he gawked at her display.

Ignoring him, if she even knew he was leering, she answered, "Black SexSpells are a form of magic, I guess you would say, that the Dark Lords and other evil Mages use to entrap Elves and other opponents of their rule. In short, they force Elves into heat."

"'Heat'? You mean...Do Elves go into heat on their own?"

She rose, holding a tankard and two goblets. She frowned when she saw him staring at where her ass had been a moment before. "There are times," she said, pouring what looked like beer into the goblets, "But YOU'LL never see it!" She smiled, handing him a goblet.

Roger looked at it, then tasted it. Kinda like beer, only sweet, like honey. And ice cold!

"Ale." Flare answered his silent question. "Traveler's ale, actually. Made from honey."

"Mead." Roger replied. "From the Middle Ages, er Medieval times on Earth. I think it was invented in Poland, or Scandinavia..."

"Invented here, stolen by the Poles." Flare corrected with a smile, then she licked off the foam on her upper lip with her fabulous tongue. "Great stuff!"

Roger agreed. He wasn't that much into beer, but this stuff was great!

Was this place great or what!

"Sit down, M'Lord!" Flare suddenly said.

Nice to hear 'M'Lord' again! Roger sat down, his back to the log.

"It will be dark soon," Flare added, setting some metal plates and forks from her bag.

Roger nodded, slurping on his ale.

"I hope you like lamb, Sir...er, Roger!"

"Love it!" he replied, studying his goblet. Then he looked up at Flare, across the cooking fire from him. "Do you suck off you horse every night?"

She refused to look at him, just nodded, then added, "Sometimes three times a day. I get...lonely out here."

"You mean horny, don't you?"

She nodded again. Strangely, to Roger, she showed no embarrassment. "Is that what the 'heat' is? Getting lonely?"

She looked at him, "Partly. You see, Elves are gregarious..."

"They like orgies?!" Roger interrupted, trying to keep any youthful male enthusiasm or excitement out of his voice. And he was learning, he left out the natural request to watch her next orgy!

Her face didn't change. "No! Well...sometimes. But that is not what I mean! Elves like to have personal, physical contact with other Elves, and...and other...lovers...er...persons, sometimes. Out here, I do get so lonely! You see, Lord Loki wanted us ready to...service him at any and all the time! So if we go without...companionship more than a couple days, we get..."

"Horny!" Roger smiled, then immediately toned it down. "You use your horse for...companionship when your out here?"

She nodded, staring at her goblet, "All Elves do! You haven't a chance to notice, yet, but all Elven horses are big, and male, and...hung! Lord Loki gave us these animals for our use when he left! And not just for riding! For all our needs! And, besides, his...he tastes so...good!"

"Like me?"

"Almost! And different! Look, Lord Loki left us with a real problem! We...I must have sex...oral sex especially, regularly or I go mad with heat! Lord Loki liked oral sex, so he created us as...cocksuckers that...that liked..."

"To swallow!" Roger meanly inserted. He immediate regretted his interjection.

Flare didn't miss a breath over his wit. "...to orally service him to completion!"

"Do you fuck your horse?"

"No! Well, I don't! Oh, don't get me started!"

"You mean you've thought about it?"

"Of course I have! But he's so big and powerful and..."

"And you'll so...petite! Could he hurt you, is that it?"

"No, he couldn't...wouldn't. What prevents me is that I must stay in control! If I lose control I might fall victim to a monster or dragon out here! That would be too humiliating...That's what happens when you mount me! I can't stand to lose control..."

"Then why did you let me..."

Flare grew flustered, "Oh, you...so stupid sometimes! You have Lord Loki's organ! I cannot refuse it!"

"Oh, sorry!" Roger, realizing he hadn't been listening as much as he should have to their earlier conversations, was sincere with his regret. "Look, I don't mind you...servicing your mount. I even find it...arousing! But I'm not asking you to watch! Unless you want me to!

"But for me to survive, and get Jane back, I'm going to need you! And I want you to want to help me! So, you tell me what you want, from me, and I'll try not to be a pest about sex, even though you are delicious, or of being married, or being a wuss with a sword..."

Flare rose and walked over to him. Bending over, she kissed him. It was the most luscious, sweet 16, first date kiss he had ever experienced. His divine love pole leaped in his pants, it was so sweet.

Strange, Roger thought, there was no smell of cum on her breath!

After the kiss, she whispered into his face, "I want to help you, M'Lord! As for your marriage, I consider it over, as I'm sure Desiree will insist upon! But I will train you to handle a weapon, and protect you from discovery, and get you to the Northern Marches, where Desiree is nearby, all this to the best of my ability.

"All I want from you is your cock! Reserved for me! I don't want to be...lonely ever again!" Then she walked back to the fire. "Well," she beamed at him, "the lamb is ready! Let's eat!"

Roger could only stare at her for a moment, his heart pounding, his massive sex spar jumping in his pants. After a long moment, he broke his funk and looked at Flare. "So soon?"

Flare shrugged, then lay a large chunk of lamb on a metal plate, added an oval loaf of travel bread atop it, and handed it to him. "Not to me!" she said brightly.

They ate side by side, each with a refilled goblet of ale. Quickly it became evident that Flare was being effected by her drink. Halfway through his mutton, Roger suddenly felt Flare's hand on his left thigh.

He looked carefully at her and noticed, in the dimming light, that her beautiful face had a glow about it! "Uh, Flare..."

"Yes, M'Lord!" she replied, looking into his eyes inches away.

"Are you, okay?"

She giggled. Giggled! "Well, I usually only have one goblet a night..."

"Are you drunk?! Is this how Elves get when they're drunk?"

"Well, after one goblet, its normal to be..."

"Drunk." Roger finished, then took a big swig. "This stuff can't be more than 5% alcohol..."

"2.7%. Been that way for a thousand years! Why?"

"Are all Elves subject to such easy drunkenness?"

"Everybody is! Mages, little people, Elves, Dark Lords, Orcs..."

"I can tell that you are...inebriated. You face is glowing! But what do you feel?"

She looked at him, biting her lower lip. "Lonely!"

He took her goblet away. "Don't you think you've had enough? Let me get you some water..."

"I'm okay, nothing. But its dark, we'd better get to sleep. We need to get an early start tomorrow."

Suddenly Roger realized that it was pitch black! As if the last light in the sky left at Flare's command! But Flare was up, collecting their dishes, so Roger rose to help.

Like a good husband, he recalled.

When Roger came back from washing the plates in the brook, Flare was stuffing what was left of a still substantial hunk of mutton into one of her saddlebags. At first the piece of meat looked larger than the bag, but it disappeared without a problem!

"How do you do that?" he gasped. "You can't tell me that that is not magic!"

Innocently, she looked up at him. "No magic. Food preservation! Don't you have such skills were you come from?"

"Yea, it's called a refrigerator and comes nearly the size of your horse!"

"Well, I guess we have a better system. Five thousand years under the guidance of Lord Loki gives you skills such as this!" Meat packed away, she reached behind her saddlebags and pulled out a...bedroll!

"I'm afraid it is only a single, so it will be a little snug..." she said, suddenly looking down demurely when she saw Roger's leer.

"I don't mind," he started, then, seeing a sudden defensive reaction in her, quickly added, "That is, if you don't mind. I'll sleep on the ground, otherwise..."

"No!" she snapped, looking back up. "It's just...I don't want to be alone tonight!"

"Sure!" Roger replied, suppressing his leer. "Let me help." In a jiffy he had the bedroll spread next to the log.

For a long, pregnant moment both of them stared at the bedroll.

Then Flare broke the silence. "Well, usually, when there is a stream nearby, I wash..."

"Sure!" Roger eagerly agreed. Pulling his shirt off, he looked expectantly at Flare.

She was staring at Roger's healthy, naked chest. Without warning Flare abruptly smiled, then pulled her tunic off! "Okay, I just don't want to be lonely!"

Roger's cock jumped visibly down his left pants' leg, making Flare's eyes widen. "Don't worry!" he growled.

The brook was dark under the pines, though a bright, full moon overhead cast random slices of light through the gaps in the trees. Flare stepped across the brook, to where there were no trees, into the moonlight. There, she turned her back on Roger and, bending over, she stripped down her tights.

Her full moon glowed in the light of the other full moon.

Roger, in the shadows of the trees, quickly pulled his own pants down. His prick, iron bar hard, flipped up and slapped against his sternum, to settle nearly horizontal. Then he leered at her magnificent buns.

Wonderfully nude, Flare stepped into the brook. She quickly washed her own clothes, then threw them to the shadow that was Roger. "Give me yours and hang mine up."

He threw his to her, then took a long moment to hang her tights and tunic. Even an Elf's clothes were...soft, smooth, delicious! His prodigious prick drooled long ropes of precum.

She washed his clothes and, as soon as he turned back to her, she threw them to him. He wasted no time with his clothes, nearly tossing them up upon nearby branches.

When he turned back, Flare was running handfuls of sparkling stream water down her trunk. Soon her flesh shone with wetness, and her nipples jutted out a good half inch.

Watching the soaking wet Elf glisten in the moonlight was the most...moving vision of femininity he could remember! Even so short, her figure was almost perfect hourglass: dramatic cones for breasts highlighting her chest, very inhumanly narrow, flat bellied waist, dramatically flaring hips with meaty, smooth buns.

But damn did his balls ache!

Is this place great, or what?

She then signaled for Roger to join her!

Eagerly, and without thinking about the temperature of the water, he stepped into the knee deep waters. It was cool, but not cold, swift, but not too swift. The footing was firm and not the least bit slippery. He, and it, felt great!

Safely footed in the water, he looked at the Elf.

Flare was gawking, open mouthed, at his jutting divinity, now finally and fully illuminated in the moonlight! Before he could do anything, she reached out, grabbing him around the shaft just behind the head. She tried to enclose him but quickly failed, for her hands could hardly get halfway around his brutally wide slab of meat.

When she squeezed his shaft with her powerful, sword wielding hands, a torrent of coiled precum poured out the tip of his cock and proceeded to pour right down the front of her, from between her jutting, conical suck sacks to over her jutting sex mound.

Flare hissed, long and loud in the darkness, as his red hot, greasily slimy precum burned her already horribly aroused twat. She began pulling on his meat.

Roger moaned as she manipulated his prick, fire rocketing up his spine. Reaching out and down, he arrived right between her parted thighs, and cupped her boiling puss.

Now Flare moaned, "Oh, Roger, M'Lord! Yes!" And she spread her knees to give him more access.

Roger's probing fingers found no resistance. Her labia were soaked, and already hanging, swollen and elongated and out of the way. The first pressure from his fingers caused her pussy to burst open like overripe fruit, opening the way to her fuckhole. Her juices trickled around his probing fingers.

And her clit! His two fingers stroked over the stiff, exposed brave little button, making Flare whimper and her bubble butt and spread thighs quiver with out of control need.

"Please, Master!" she wailed, pressing his cockhead between her jumping thighs. "Don't tease me, M'Lord! PLEASE!"

Roger was loosing it, too! "No more playing around, babe!" Roger growled and sent his other hand between her thighs. He filled each hand with one of her meaty, firm buns. "Put your arms around my neck and jump up."

With a frantic nod, Flare complied and, after hugging his neck, she jumped right up into his arms, almost like she was mounting her horse.

Roger hooked the back of her knees in his arms and then, using his butt grip, hauled her up and up until her more than ready pussy was set just above his massive cockhead. Lowering her enough to seat her dripping snatch on his drooling glans, her rotated her a bit to widen her opening. Finally, with the Elf squirming and whining in his hands, he gripped her buns firmly and pulled her down.

All Flare could do was scream hysterically as he mercilessly wrapped her around his upright fuckpole. Not interested in stopping the use of her as a 'condom', Roger ignored her howls and gasps, her whimpers and squeals. He screwed and pulled her down with his butt grip to her prick swallowing doom, to the base of her womb deep in her belly, until only a wide stump of his sixteen inch God-cock still extended out of Flare's massively stretched puss-hole.

Once he hit her bottom, Flare's arms dropped from around his neck, and her head fell with a thump against his shoulder.

Snuggling his neck, Flare whimpered, "You are so good to me, M'Lord! Take me! I...I...love you!"

Roger heard what she said, but her pussy was talking much more...loudly than her throat, at that particular moment. He began raising and lowering her on his rigid sex lance, making her squeal and wail in deep belly bliss, while her very talented pussy sucked and squeezed on him. Soon she was bouncing on his prick, her cries disappearing in the dark air, her hands clawing his back.

Roger was feeling...great! The Elf was light as a feather! He felt he could haul her up and down on his big dick all night. He felt he could do anything and everything with this delightful, beautiful little pussy!

Not missing a belly stuffing stroke, Roger stepped out of the brook and walked the two of them back to the nearby camp. Flare was actively, eagerly humping now, countering his hauling of her up and down his pole.

He stood beside the fire, and continued to use the Elf, watching their shadow fucking on the firelight illuminated boulder. Flare was in no mental condition to object, or even realize her energetic cock service was being projected on a wall.

Finally tiring of such entertainment, Roger lowered Flare onto her back upon her bedroll. Throwing her legs up under his arms, he reared up and began plowing forcefully into her belly. His heavy, softball sized balls began noisily slapping off her upturned asscheeks.

Flare's eyes popped open as her belly swelled dramatically as his invincible organ smashed and moved aside her womb.

For long moments the only sounds were Flare's forced cries, her pussy sucking on arm thick cock, and massive balls slapping off of offered up, sweaty Elf butt.

When her eyes finally managed to focus upon her pile driving, dedicated mate, she smiled up at him.

Oh so sweetly.

Then Roger felt her claws sink into his ass slapping balls!

The wonderful bitch had reached under her big (for an Elf) butt and seized both his nuts!

He felt the red hot rush of cum flooding into his pussy stuffing meat! He couldn't hold back for long, not with the grip she had on him!

Flare knew she had him, too! Whispering oh so hotly into his straining, sweating face just inches from hers, she almost effortlessly sent him over the edge, "That's it, M'Lord! Do me! Fill me! I need it! I want you! You can use me all night! Just cum now! I want you so! Cum and I'll lick you clean! Cum, PLEASE!"

With an animal roar, Roger let go. He had to, for she gave him no choice. And at the end of that roar, he sent the first massive spew of manchowder into the Elf's womb.

And Flare's loudest, shrillest scream of all echoed off the boulder.

!