1. Queen Yavara: Chapter 40


    Date: 5/28/2020, Categories: Fiction / Fantasy Anal Bisexual BDSM Gay Group Sex Teen Trans Author: White Walls, Source: sexstories.com

    Part Twelve: Losses
    
    Chapter Forty
    
    BROCK
    
    “…put your arms forward like this,” I instructed the little imperial scout, “then, when you’re at the precipice, you want to open them like this,” I motioned my arms outward, “and you’ll just glide over the top. Did you get that?”
    
    “W-w-w-what?!”
    
    I rolled my eyes. “Practice it with me, little imperial. Ball.” I crouched and hugged my knees, “Arrow.” I shot up with my hands together overhead, “Eagle.” I finished, spreading makeshift wings. “Ball, arrow, eagle. Ball, arrow, eagle. Ball, arrow, eagle. There, it’s not so hard. Now, put these on, and this, and… oh, and put this on.” I said, dropping a suit of heavy orc armor, four bags of sand, and a berserker helm.
    
    The imperial gawked at what I’d laid at his feet, then began to put it on. The orc armor was much too big for him, even though it was the smallest I could find, and it rendered him unable to pick up the sandbags. I tied each fifty-pound sack to his torso and legs, then put the helm on him.
    
    “There.” I said, stepping back to admire my work, “Can you raise your arms?”
    
    Shaking with the effort of it, the imperial managed to raise his arms, and the contraption flared like a fan from his armpits. It was my own design, and I was quite proud of it.
    
    “Weight distribution’s off.” Trenok muttered beside me.
    
    “Won’t matter.” I grunted, picking up the elf, “Once he’s airborne, the only direction that matters is down.”
    
    “AIRBORNE?!” The imperial squeaked.
    
    “You must be new to this sector.” I chuckled, and placed the elf in the carriage of the catapult.
    
    He tried to scramble out of it, and I palmed his entire head, and pushed him back in. “Remember,” I said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “ball, arrow, eagle. When you get over the top, pull this cord,” I handed him the cord that looped into the contraption, “and the parachute will engage. Many of your comrades have died so that you could succeed, little imperial.” I gave him a grave look, “Make sure that their sacrifice is not in vain.” And I pulled the lever.
    
    He flew across the sky, tumbling in his ball shape.
    
    “Come on…” I growled, watching him grow smaller before the imposing wall of the Highland Rift.
    
    “He can’t open his arms.” Trenok grunted.
    
    “He’ll do it.” I muttered. The little ball disappeared before the grey rock wall, then reappeared above it. “Arrow!” I shouted as though he could hear me. For a moment, the ball stayed the same, then I saw his arms struggle against the wind and weight of his armor, and become an arrow in the sky. “Eagle!” I yelled, and his arms opened, the wings catching the wind. He soared even higher, clearing the edge of the wall, his resplendent silhouette catching the sun to gleam like an iron bird in the sky. “Pull!” I cried in delight. He pulled the cord, the parachute unfurled, and the straps broke. He fell a hundred feet, flapping like a bird, then he crashed to the ground with a boom that could be heard across the ...
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