If you go down to the edge of the Uk heading West and look closely out to sea you will just about see Mythgrawn, fantasy lands of Tam.
Tam, a slender young farmers boy, lives unhappily with his sodomising, drunk uncle. Every day Tam goes out into his uncles field to pick Zaw, a small piece of vegetation that looks and smells like a cucumber but is of a faint pinkish colour. Small in size but worth, atleast in Mythgrawn, a small fortune if picked correctly.
One day Tam was kneeling in the dirt, picking zaw when his uncles shadow leered over him.
Uncle: You boy!
Tam gazed up not very surprised at his uncle.
Tam: Yes Uncle?
Tams uncle bent down and grabbed a handful of zaw. He looked at it closely then with a swift movement, threw the zaw right into Tams good looking face.
Uncle: Do this again boy. It’s all ruined.
Tam sighed.
Tam: Uncle I need a rest before picking. I…
SLAP!
Tams face went red as he went down into the dirt.
Uncle: Don’t you dare talk back to me! You want a rest eh? Ok then since it is a hot day I will grant you a rest.
Tam looked at his uncle with surprise.
Uncle: Don’t look so surprised. It’s not the rest you thought. Now pick up the basket of zaw and follow me to that tree over there.
With his uncle looking serious Tam did not want to disobey so he walked glumly towards the tree his uncle was striding towards. The zaw basket clutched under his arm.
Not too far away in a thicket stood Brazabee, a wizard. He was watching the action before him.
Brazabee: Hmmm? Is this the boy I’ve been seeking?
Tam and his uncle stood in front of a fallen tree.
Uncle: Drop the basket, strip and bend over that tree.
Brazabee moved silently watching this spectacle unfold. Here was this thin boy, naked and bent over a fallen tree. What was this?
Uncle then proceeded to use tish, a slippery oil, on the zaws. He then proceeded to push zaw after saw up Tams quivering ass. Tam was used to this. He could never pick zaws correctly.
A zaw is picked correctly if the following occurs:
It is a solid pink colour.
Grows to the size of 12 inches.
Smells like sweet honey.
Unfortunately Tams zaws that were presently getting shoved up his ass were, as you could guess, not like the above at all.
His zaws were:
Pail pink.
The size of a baby’s arm.
Smelt like a cucumber.
This was why he now found himself bent, naked over an old fallen oak tree with his uncle sodomising his hole with them.
Uncle: You never learn boy. I give you shelter and food and this is the work you give time after time? Pathetic. Maybe you like this done to you.
Brazabee moved so close now to the action that he unsheathed his wooden carved wand and silently chanted.
Brazabee: WhompCompLubDubSpunTun.
At once Tam felt a change in his ass. His uncle stopped and gaped.
Uncle: What the….Tam…..you’re ass….its…..it’s…shooting out correct zaws. But that’s impossible.
Tam felt enormous pleasure as each zaw slid out of him.
Suddenly a flash came making the uncle flee in shock.
The now pleasured Tam turned his head and saw Brazabee smiling at him from behind.
Brazabee: Come boy. Get your clothes and follow me. There is no time for explanation. A great deal has still to be done with you.
To be continued.
Let me know if I shall continue this story in the comments. thanks
