Harold the Healer Brings Home a Dog

Harold the Healer: Harold Brings Home a Dog

Note to readers: This story takes place a few years before the first two (and forthcoming third) chapters of the main story. Some more background information on Harold's past and the world in general is also presented.

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Mid-November is a seasonal no man's land between the Autumn that ends with the last of the falling leaves and the first fall of Winter's snow. Gone are the gentle caresses of Old Man Winter that frost the October lands with a coat of rime that shimmers and glistens until the morning sun melts it away. Gone is the fun and excitement of All Hallows Eve on the last day of October, with costumes and candy, and bonfires and fireworks to scare away the spirits whom the legends say can cross over into our world for a night. The brightly painted leaves that mark Nature's fond farewell to Summer have fallen and been blown by the wind to collect in drifts, where they turn brown in the weakening sun and crunch and rustle underfoot as a traveler walks down a road. The days are chilly, the nights are cold, and the sun seems to have lost all its warmth as the Westlands awaits the first of the storms that blow off the ocean that bring with them the damp cold for which the region is infamous.

Harold Moser, already a Senior Healer of the Order of St. Thrimble, thanks mostly to the usual attrition, awoke from a dreamless sleep in a warm cozy bed, the best way to wake up. As usual, he was lying on his left side on the left side of the bed, and gloomy pre-dawn November light was passing through the curtains of the window with remarkably little enthusiasm. On the other side of the bed was the reason it was so cozy, Willa Groom. He had healed her lame horse, checked out her cow and two sheep, did de-flea and de-worm spells on her barn and house cats and two dogs, and given her, her daughter, son-in-law, and their two teen-aged children checkups and general Healing for various minor things. They had naturally invited him to dinner and to stay the night, since it was long past dark by the time he was done. They'd caught up on local gossip, drunk some wine, and he'd shared some of his happier stories of his travels in the Kingdom before it was time for bed.

"That couch in your living room looks comfortable," he had said the night before, yawning cavernously behind his hand. "I'll crash there for the night and be on my way in the morning."

"No, you have definitely earned yourself a bed for the night," Willa had replied firmly, as he'd hoped. "What I need from you right now is a massage. My back and neck are killing me. We can go upstairs to my room for it, if you don't mind." Harold had been under no illusion about what her ulterior motive was, recognizing the look in her bright brown eyes that he had seen before. She took a lantern from the mantel of the living room fireplace and started looking around. "Darn it, where did they put the matches?" she asked irritably.

"Allow me," Harold had said, and with a gesture and a word, it was lit.

"Wow, you're sure handy to have around."

"Being handy is useful when massage is in the offing," he had replied innocently, with a deadpan expression to match. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath and he snickered. "Lead on, Willa."

"It's almost as if you don't want me behind you," she had growled, walking ahead of him to the staircase. The wooden stairs usually creaked a bit when people used them, but Willa had noticed to her surprise how quietly he moved up them, despite his weight.

"You're really light on your feet," she had remarked when they reached their top and turned right to head for one of the front rooms, which was hers.

"Perfected over many years of sneaking around places where I would have been better off not being," he had replied with an impish grin, getting one in return. Her room was not large, about 12 by 12, with the expected double bed against the left wall, large dresser, mirror, and small bedside table, and a window on the wall facing them that looked south towards the road to Magwitch. Its door closed with a solid click of its latch.

"I'll undress and get on the bed. It's high enough that you should be able to do your work without too much strain on your back," she had said, turning her back to him and unbuttoning and removing her sensible winter-weight blouse, teasing him with little peeks of what lay underneath and smoldering over-the-shoulder eye contact. Her loose-fitting farmer's jeans were next to hit the floor, revealing legs that were as well-muscled as the rest of her from years of farm work. Her daughter and son-in-law had taken over most of the heavy lifting on the farm after her former husband had walked away one day four years ago and gotten on a stage coach for the Capital. The letter that had accompanied the Request for Divorce papers that had arrived two months later stated that he was tired of the farm life and wanted to retire to something different. She had signed the papers and sent them back without comment, but it had taken some time for her to get over it. "Do you like what you see?" She had eventually seen herself as having been liberated, and menopause had freed her from the risk of pregnancy.

"I see that you are in great shape," he had replied blandly, but with a twinkle in his eye, "for a woman of your age, or any age. Are you ready?"

"Only two more inconveniences," she had replied, which were her bra and panties, both of which were quickly removed, with her back still to him. "I'll get on the bed and you can work your magic." She pulled back the covers and laid herself face down on the sheet. What she had expected was a body rub to get her aroused, followed by his sinking his cock into her needful pussy that hadn't had one for a while. Instead, she got a very thorough examination as he checked and made a few minor repairs to her spine with the aid of a magical Window that he'd conjured up, which had been followed by the skilled application of his strong hands and fingers as they, assisted by little sparks of green and yellow Healing Magic, worked the knots and stiffness out of her butt, back, and neck muscles, and even her scalp and arms. She had never felt this good and relaxed.

"You weren't kidding about the sore back and neck," he had said as she had moaned softly into her pillow. "You've been carrying around a lot of stress, haven't you? You're in a good position now, you can just let it all go and enjoy your life. Let me check out your knees to see if they need a little attention." She managed to roll over somehow, despite her muscles seeming to have melted, finally exposing her full, gray bush and soft, D-sized breasts capped by achingly hard pink nipples, to his gaze. He had moved his Window so that he could look at her left knee joint, gently bending and twisting it and applying a few Healing touches to top up the cartilage in places where it had been wearing thin. As he had repeated it on her right knee, then started massaging the knots out of her legs, he could tell that she had started getting aroused. "Just one last check of your internals to make sure there's nothing there that shouldn't be, and you'll be set," he had said in his best professional voice, doing what he could to squelch his own growing arousal and its most obvious physical manifestation.

"I haven't felt anything unusual," she had replied in a husky voice, "but sometimes you don't until it's too late." He had moved the Window over her body and given everything a good look, using its ability to focus at different distances to scan top to bottom, in a quest for abnormalities or tumors that thankfully came up empty. Her breasts had also been free from anything unwanted.

"Well, aside from the usual wear and tear, you are in excellent condition," he had pronounced with a smile. "I think we're done."

"You forgot something," she had replied, her eyes wide in the light of the lantern that she'd put on the bedside table. At his patently fake quizzical expression, she'd added, "You never massaged my pussy. It needs some attention." She'd opened her legs, grabbed his hand and guided it there. It had been as hot as a furnace, and he'd finally lost the battle against arousal, which she'd clearly noticed. "Experience has taught me that the best thing to massage a pussy with is a hot, hard cock." Her fingers had expertly unbuttoned and pulled down his tented pants and then his underwear, and she had gently stroked his thick, seven-inch erection, which had been glowing in shifting colours of green and turquoise. "A glowing one will be even better," she had murmured. "Now, take off that shirt and get on me!" He had obeyed, climbed on the bed, and positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance.

"Will this massage have a happy ending?" he had asked, gently rubbing his tip on her labia.

"I think so," she had growled. "Massage me!" She had been so ready that he had sunk his cock all the way into her in one thrust, getting a loud moan as his reward. He then stayed there, bucking gently, as her first orgasm made her clamp down hard. "Oh, Goddess, that felt good," she whispered when it had passed. "Come down here and ravage my mouth and my pussy!" She had pulled his head down until their lips had met, which didn't cause much strain because she was not that much shorter than him, and their tongues had invaded each other as he'd begun pumping in and out with her bucking to match his pace, which had started slowly but then rapidly progressed to frantic pounding until she had clamped down hard and he had squirted his cum into her, with more moans from both of them.

"I think that your pussy massage was a success," he had murmured into her ear as he had laid on her, both breathing heavily. Her past-shoulder-length gray hair had been in disarray all around her head. "You nearly squeezed the life out of me." After Willa had quicky gotten up to blow out the lantern, they had rolled over onto their sides and pulled the covers up over them to keep warm in the cool room.

"It was a very happy ending", she had purred sleepily. He had Cleaned the mess with his last remaining spark of consciousness.

"Good morning, Harold," he heard Willa say, followed by her hand that grabbed his shoulder and pulled him onto his back. "That was the best massage I've ever had. Thank you." The same hand then slid down his chest to stroke and tug his half-hard cock as she looked into his eyes. "Here's how I thank men who give me great massages," she continued with a lazy smile. She moved and her head disappeared under the covers and he felt her hair brush down his chest and abdomen until her mouth took his cock into it. It did not take very many slurps, licks, and sucks until it was hard and glowing again.

"You are really good at that!" he gasped. Mission accomplished, Willa moved around again until she was on top of him, moved up until her head was above his, and then pushed herself down so that his cock once again sank deep into her. As she gently rode his cock, he licked and sucked each dangling breast, paying extra attention to the hard nipples that, judging by her gasps and moans, were very sensitive. "I will bring you hard and keep you clean, with no messy sperm to deal with."

"I don't think so, mister," she whispered in return, nose-to-nose, looking him in his eyes. "A woman always knows when her man is about to blow his load, and you are almost there. Maybe it will be me who won't come and do it all for you." Both of them were breathing hard and he was thrusting in to meet her halfway.

"Judging by how hard you're squeezing me," he gasped, "that's not going to happen." He gave her a double thrust, which took her over the edge and him with her, spectacularly failing to withhold squirt after squirt of cum. Even after she'd collapsed onto him and they were exchanging gentle kisses and lip licks, she was squeezing the last of it from his deflating cock.

"That is how I thank you for a great massage, and for all the work you did for us yesterday."

"I'm glad that I saved the best for last," he replied with a smile. "Now I'm totally ruined and will barely be able to get out of bed." With some effort, she got off of him and stood shakily on the floor, wearing only her socks, which she had never removed to keep her feet warm. He hadn't either. Harold Cleaned the glistening mess from his cock and abdomen and managed to sit up. "A view like this should be appreciated properly."

"Oh, the silver-tongued rascal is here," Willa replied, flaunting her assets as he leered comically. "This view has to be clothed or I will freeze!" It was definitely chilly in the room, and as she dressed with new clothes from her dresser and closet, Harold put his on too, including the warm long underwear that was a requirement for anybody being outside for any length of time at this time of year. They padded downstairs to the kitchen and surprisingly found that they were the first ones up.

"I'll help with breakfast," he said. "I can make a couple of things for you."

"Thanks, Harold," Willa replied, getting a small lantern and lighting it with a match. Her face was oval and lined with wrinkles from about sixty years of exposure to the elements. It was marked with a strong, square jaw, over which was a medium-sized mouth with very kissable lips, a straight nose and bushy, half-gray eyebrows. "Any more looks at me like that and I'll drag you back upstairs and leave you unable to do anything for the rest of the day!" He grinned and blew a kiss at her as she opened the cellar door and went down the stairs, then he went into the wood storage room that was just off the kitchen, through which one passed to get to the door outside. "Can you drop a few pieces down here for me?" she called through the floor. "There's nothing for the boiler down here. It's all used up."

"Sure," he replied, grabbing a handle and sliding a panel in the floor back, revealing her holding the lantern and looking up at him. "How much do you need?"

"Give me some starters and about five big pieces," she said, stepping back. The room was long and about five feet wide and packed to the ceiling with split wood of various sizes. He dropped some kindling down, followed by five regular-sized pieces. He then conjured a bright Mage Light and sent it down the hole, moving it over where he could see the boiler when he knelt down to look. "Oh, thank you for that," she said, looking surprised. She put the lantern on a table near the large metal contraption, from which four pipes emerged upward into the ceiling, scraped out a load of ash, tossed in some wood and kindling and managed to get it all lit. "There, that will start warming the house. Let's get started with breakfast." Harold killed the Mage Light and returned to the kitchen with more wood and kindling for the large iron stove that is the focal point of all farm kitchens, which are the focal point of all farm houses. The contraption in the basement was a combination boiler and pump that heated water and pumped it through pipes under the floors that kept the house warm. Nearly all houses in the Westlands had one. He Cleaned the ash from the stove, loaded it up, and got it started just as Willa was closing the door.

"Where is everyone?" she asked. "Dan should be out milking the cow by now and Greta should be here helping get breakfast ready." These were her daughter and son-in-law.

"Speak of the devil," Harold replied, standing aside so that Willa could assemble the ingredients and cookware. They had just walked in, looking a little wild-eyed and disheveled, and Dan, a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and bright blue eyes that had more of a twinkle in them than was probably usual, moved to the door of the wood room to put on his boots and warm coat. Greta was tall like her mother and, like most of the farm folk in the area, solidly built, marched up to her mother, hands on hips, and scowling.

"You had sex with that man," she pointed at an amused Harold, "last night and again this morning, didn't you?" Willa blushed.

"I thought that we were being quiet," she replied guiltily.

"You were. We didn't hear a thing, but we felt it! As we were drifting off to sleep, there was this wave of warmth and comfort like we'd never felt before! Next thing I knew, I was feeling hot and Dan was as hard as a rock and we were going at it like rabbits! And it happened again this morning!"

"Next time you're in town, come stay the night with us," Dan drawled with a wink, then exited hastily as Greta raised a fist in his direction.

"If I hadn't already hit menopause, I'm pretty sure he'd have knocked me up!"

"A healthy sex life is a foundation of a successful relationship," Harold commented, deftly slicing a loaf of bread with a knife that Willa had supplied him. Somewhat to their surprise, the slices were uniform and the correct thickness for toasting on the oven's surface. "What, a man can't slice bread?"

"You're the guest, so you sit down and get out of the way!" Greta ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly, putting the knife on the cutting board on the counter as she propelled him to the table in the corner. "Hey!" he exclaimed as he felt a squeeze applied to his ass.

"I don't know what you did to Mom last night, but thank you," she whispered in his ear. "She's been a bit of a bear these last few days."

"She really needed a massage," he murmured, just barely audible. "Should I show Dan the technique?" he inquired with a wink as he was plunked into a chair, his eyes on the level of her not inconsiderable bosom. "In the long cold nights to come, he could get in some practice."

"You are a dirty old man," she scolded unconvincingly, getting a snicker from her mother.

"Who's a dirty old man?" Nell, her daughter, asked with interest as she entered the kitchen, dressed in her blouse and jeans, ready for the day. It was Saturday, so she didn't have to go to school. She turned and saw Harold sitting at the table. "Oh, of course. Good morning, Healer Harold. You made Grandma happy last night and again this morning, didn't you?"

"She really needed a massage," he replied, poker-faced. "Her back and neck muscles were all knotted up. I managed to loosen them up so she'll be more comfortable." Nell was a clear mixture of her mother and father, with hazel eyes halfway between blue and brown, thick brown hair down to her shoulders, an average-sized mouth with her grandmother's kissable lips, a thin, straight nose, and carefully sculpted eyebrows. Her tall, well-muscled farm girl frame also had curves in all the right places that probably attracted all sorts of attention from the males and females who leaned that way.

"Whatever it is that you did, we felt it, and it felt really good. Bill here," she indicated her older brother, who had just joined them, "had his cock out his window firing a huge load into the air this morning, and probably last night too." The outside door opened and Dan returned, carrying a pail of milk.

"She won't mention that her wooden friend got a couple of good workouts," he added in a smooth baritone voice, blocking a swipe from her. Everyone in the kitchen had red faces and didn't want to make eye contact with anyone else. Harold cleared his throat and coughed.

"Let's just say that sex with Mages can occasionally have unexpected side effects and let it go at that," he suggested, "before breakfast gets too disrupted." This managed to restore some order and soon the aromas of brewing coffee, frying bacon, bread toasting and oatmeal with raisins filled the air. Harold saved Dan a trip to the cellar where the milk sterilizer, an optional part of the heating mechanism, was located by hitting the pail with a milk-oriented Sterilize spell that had it bubbling and steaming briefly.

"It looks like things are well underway," Greta announced several minutes later. "Nell and Bill, you can help your Grandma Willa finish up and serve. I believe that our visiting Mage promised to show Dan his massage technique." Dan's quizzical stare got a conspiratorial wink from the Healer. The three of them trooped off to the living room, where she lay on the floor and Harold led her husband on a ten-minute hands-on demonstration of how to massage her back, arms, and legs. The Healer had looked up early on while the others were busy to see Bill watching quietly but intently from the doorway.