The Chronicles of Harold the Healer Ch. 01

"That's comforting to know," said Tom dryly. "Is this when I take off my pants?" Harold nodded and Tom did so and lay down on the table. Leila got the stirrups into position and he rather reluctantly put his feet on them, leaving his genitals exposed. As with the rest of him, they were large and healthy-looking, with a large thatch of pubic hair, and the two Healers did not fail to notice Helen's hungry look.

"We're going to have to put you to sleep for a while," said Leila soothingly. "You have to be still for this, and we have no idea how uncomfortable it will be." He nodded.

"I don't think I want to feel whatever it is you'll be doing down there," he rumbled. Leila concentrated, passed her hands over his head while saying some words, and Tom fell asleep. "Helen, I'm handing over the sleeping spell for you to maintain so that we can fully concentrate on fixing up Tom."

"Uh, how do I do that?" she responded nervously. "I've never done anything magical." Leila smiled reassuringly, put one hand on each of his temples, then moved to Helen and touched her temples. She shifted a bit, feeling surprised.

"This feels strange," she said. "What do I do?"

"Just think about how much you love him, all the things that you've done together, that sort of thing. The spell will drain you of some energy, but you should be able to handle it."

"OK. I'll get a chair and sit next to him." She did so, sitting next to his head and stroking his hair. Harold and Leila immediately tuned her out to focus on the job at hand.

"I have no idea how we manage to pack 30 feet of tubing behind a testicle," Harold muttered. He moved the screen to be right in front of the testicles and made some gestures with his fingers to zoom in on them, and then through the scrotum. Leila moved her fingers and the testicle on their right rotated so that the epididymis was more readily visible. "Look at how mangled it is."

As the Healers talked to each other in quiet voices, making gestures with their hands and studying the screen that he had conjured, Helen's attention wandered. Much of what they were saying was technical and a lot of it seemed to be in a totally foreign language and, even though Tom's limp cock was lying on his belly, she could look at it for only so long. Despite sitting in a comfortable chair, absently stroking his hair, her body felt like it was walking around. She looked out the window, but her vantage point showed little save for the house across the street. Sounds of the community and the gentle breeze through the fully emerged and still newly green leaves on the trees came through the open window. The Healers didn't have to cut open their patients, so keeping things super-clean wasn't an issue with them. She could hear distant squeals and shouts of the pack of kids that ran around the town on the weekends, wild and free, getting into all sorts of mischief and occasionally getting dragooned into doing some useful work by an adult or two who needed some extra hands for something.

She and Tom had been part of that ever-evolving pack, so long ago now, it seemed. Leila had been the village's Healer for as long as she could remember, dealing with both personal and animal injuries and ailments, and everyone loved her. Every month or so, a different person, usually a man, from the Order of St. Thrimble (what an odd name, she mused) would show up to provide more specialized care or to give Leila a day off. They were always nice, respectful, and seemed to know much more than they let on. It was only about ten years ago, when she was ten, that this one had shown up. He had stood out almost immediately because he was much older than the usual St Thrimble Healers, and because he was the only person to capture Leila's heart.

His arrival had also been very well-timed, as that idiot Timmy Witherspoon had managed to fall out of one of the Cashmans' apple trees trying to steal one and broken his left thigh bone very badly. The farm is on the main country road from Provis that the traveling Healers came from, and the kids were about to send Tom, the fastest runner, into town to try to get Leila when he had showed up, clearly attracted by Timmy's screams and the noise from the kids and from Mr. Cashman and his hired hand who were yelling at them. With no fuss at all, he had dropped his heavy pack (and it was heavy, as she had tried to lift it and barely could), cleared everyone out of the way, and put Timmy to sleep. Only the sounds of the wind in the trees and the long grass and distant cattle lowing could be heard as he had stood there, seeming to summon power, and then bent over, positioned the broken leg with the aid of one of those screens, and then made the entire leg glow brightly enough to make them look away.

"Mister, who are you?" she had asked once Timmy had been wakened and pushed to a sitting position, looking confused. By then, the other hired hand had returned with Leila in the farm's buggy.

"My name is Harold Moser, Miss," he had replied, extending his hand, which she tentatively had taken and shaken. "I'm the new traveling Healer from the Order of St. Thrimble." By then, Leila had jumped off the buggy and hustled over to where Timmy was still looking around groggily. She had knelt and scrutinized his legs carefully, then had stood up and looked at him. He had repeated his introduction, save for Ma'am instead of Miss, and with a polite bow and doff of the hat.

"What happened here?" she had asked, getting a torrent of tearful stories and explanations from the pack of kids until she finally raised her hands for silence. "If you hadn't told me he'd broken his left leg, I never would have known. You're not one of those greenhorns they send around to learn the ropes, are you?" she had asked him.

"What are you kids still doing here?" Harold had responded, looking at them. "Anybody I see after I count to five gets turnips for dinner! One..." and they were all running down the road, including Timmy. Helen had briefly looked over her shoulder to see the five adults talking to each other before continuing with the stampede. In that brief moment, they had all gotten the impression that he could have put turnips on their plates if he'd wanted to, and nobody wanted that.

She was partially roused from her reverie by the rise in volume of the Mages' voices. By the tone, they were happy and excited about what they were doing, and she saw Tom's cock twitch in response to something. She loved that cock, and loved the strong, caring, wonderful man it was attached to. Shortly after her body had started the changes that would bring her to womanhood, her mother had taken her to Leila's for a checkup, and Leila had explained what was happening to her and what she could expect as she got older. Marcie had been three at that point and had escaped from her caregiver, run into the exam room and hugged her Mama's leg, wanting to be picked up.

"A child is the greatest gift a woman can give," she had said after picking Marcie up and giving her a spin, getting giggles in return as Mrs. Allen had come in to retrieve her. "Sometimes these gifts need naps," she had added with mock severity.

"No!" Marcie had asserted as she was transferred. "Want to play! Not tired!" But she was clearly fighting a losing battle against fatigue, as the two of them had watched Mrs. Allen do a slow dance and sing a soft song until the sparkling blue eyes had closed and she was sound asleep.

"You clean up after them, feed them, worry about them, be proud of them and love them," Mrs. Allen had said in her warm, gentle voice, "and you get to watch them grow and change and mature until they are grown and on their own, perhaps giving you grandchildren to love." She was a grandmother in her own right, with one of her grandchildren being Tom. She took Marcie out to put her to bed.

"Men are the ones who give you the gift. You've probably seen by now that they have penises between their legs?" Helen nodded. "As they grow and change, their voices get deeper, their bodies get hairier, and their penises and testicles get larger." She had then explained about how sex worked and how a baby got started.

"So that's what you and Mr. Moser did to make Marcie?" she had asked. To her surprise, Leila had blushed a bit and nodded. "It must feel a lot better than it sounds."

"It does, Helen. It really does." Helen remembered what Leila had said. Boys had become less annoying and more interesting, though no more mature, she'd noticed wryly. She'd also noticed how Tom always seemed to be sitting next to her in school and was there when she needed help with something, and she seemed to catch him looking at her with those warm, intelligent eyes that somehow got her feeling warm between her legs.

There wasn't a lot to do in the village when you weren't doing chores on the farm, but he'd finally gotten the courage to ask her to have dinner with him at the Village Inn one warm summer evening. He was a few months older than her, and she'd just celebrated her eighteenth birthday. Graduation from school was only a week away, and by then they had found being with each other more and more natural. They'd even caught some adults exchanging knowing glances when they saw them together. A very nice dinner of chicken, potatoes, carrots, and peas with a glass of white wine at a table outside as a good portion of the town was out strolling around and greeting them as they passed by continued with a quiet stroll in the deepening dusk to the mouth of the driveway to her farm. The air was warm and still, the sky was clear and filled with stars, and fireflies were everywhere, blinking like stars in the air. The almost full moon had risen in the east and was painting the landscape with its silvery light, and the air was filled with the sounds of cheeping crickets and trilling frogs from the nearby pond.

"I don't want this to end," Tom had said in his gentle, deep voice as they stood looking all around them. "It's so beautiful. The stars, the fireflies, you..."

"And you. You're as much a part of this perfect night as the stars, the fireflies, and me. I don't want this night to end! I don't want this time with you to end!" His face, partly shadowed by the moonlight, became full of hope. He stepped back a pace, pulled something out of the right pocket of his pants, and held it between his fingers.

"Would you accept this from me, as a promise that our time together, our magic, will never end?" he had asked as he knelt, making sure that the ring was clearly visible in the moonlight. She had clapped her hands to her mouth and made a little scream in surprise and joy.

"Tom, my dear heart, it feels like I already have, a long time ago." She had extended her left hand and he had slid the wooden ring on her ring finger, and it felt warm and comforting, like his hand when it was holding hers. "But how did you know my size? It fits perfectly!"

"When you were out, Brenda sneaked into your room and made a trace of one of your rings on a piece of paper and gave it to me. I used it when carving the wood." She had laughed.

"Turnabout is fair play, I suppose, since I did that to her for Fred to make his ring for her!" He had pulled another ring from his left pocket and had held it in his large hand. "Give me that!" She had taken it and shoved it firmly on his ring finger. "Tom, that is a promise from me that the magic that we have tonight will never end, for all the days of our lives." Their kiss was an explosion of pent-up emotion, of a love that had quietly grown and bloomed over the course of years. Neither had kissed another like this, and it was the most natural thing in the world to open their mouths and gently explore with their tongues. Eventually they had to stop for air, and held each other tightly, lost in the moment of feeling another person so close to them.

"Tom, why do I feel something hard pressing into my stomach?" she had murmured into his ear.

"Oh, it's nothing, Helen," he had replied, failing to extricate himself from her clutches. She could hear the embarrassment in his voice as he tried to squirm away from her groping hand.

"You got hard kissing me!" She had finally let him go and smiled up at him. Even in the moonlight, she could see that he was blushing.

"Sweetheart, I get hard just thinking about you, or looking at you!" he had complained, turning away so that she wouldn't see the bulge in his pants. "Healer Leila says that it's a perfectly normal, healthy response and is nothing to be ashamed of, but it's embarrassing!"

"Healer Leila is right. It is normal and healthy, and it's so cute watching the boys trying to hide them." She had giggled at his discomfort. "Women get similar responses to thinking about men, or looking at men, that they find attractive, it's just not as noticeable." She had grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. "Let me show you." She had led him into a secluded corner behind some bushes that was still illuminated by the moon and had hiked up her skirt and pulled down her underwear to expose her bush. She had laughed loudly, quickly stifling it so that she wouldn't be heard at the house, because of the expression of fear and fascination on his very red face. His eyes would have popped out of his head had they not been firmly attached. "She taught us to not be ashamed of our bodies, but to enjoy them, and she showed us how." She had taken his hand and placed it on her pussy.

"You're so hot!" he had exclaimed in wonder. "And wet," he added, experimentally moving his fingers around. He had jumped back, startled, when she was unable to suppress a moan of pleasure. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry!"

"No, you big idiot! That felt really, really good and I couldn't control my reaction! Get back here and do it some more!" She'd had to pull up her skirt again, and he had approached like a nervous horse. "Unbutton your pants, please. If you don't I think that they'll get ripped open!" With a combination of reluctance and relief, he had obeyed and, at her insistence, pulled down his shorts as well, revealing his thick manhood, at least eight inches of it, throbbing in the moonlight. "Wow, how am I going to fit that into me?" she had exclaimed. "Never mind, come here and let me feel you while you feel me." She had planted her feet a little wider to make room for his large hand and he was obligingly stroking and rubbing her. "Put your finger into me! Now!" she had whispered hoarsely as she had gently stroked that glorious cock along its length and lightly brushed its tip, generating incoherent noises from him. "Oh!" His thick middle finger had pushed its way inside and was moving back and forth, stimulating her clitoris in a way she had never been able to.

"This feels so much better than when I do it," she had whispered.

"Girls do it too?" he had replied in surprise, involuntarily thrusting into her hand as she stroked him. "We have to do it all the time, but never thought that girls did it."

"We do. And I would often think of you when I was ... doing ... it..." The orgasm was coming hard, and he could see it and feel it as she started to squeeze his finger. It had driven him over the edge.

"I'm coming!" he was barely able to speak as she had somehow been pumping harder. She had had barely enough presence of mind to turn his cock away from her as it began pulsing, then sending out three large squirts of cum, followed by several smaller ones as she had doubled over with the force of her orgasm, popping his finger out. It had taken several minutes for them to come to their senses and get their breathing back to something approaching normal. "I love you, Helen," he had said, holding her chin in his hand, mindless of his limp cock slowly dripping the last of his cum onto the ground. "I am yours, body and soul, and I think that I always have been."

"I love you, Tom! And I think I always have! I want to marry you as soon as we can so we can be together forever!" She had looked around the moonlit night with its stars and fireflies above and around them. "I feel like I'm dreaming and I never want to wake up!" she had said, gently wiping some tears from his face.

"But Helen, you have to wake up now," he said, gently kissing her lips and wiping away her tears. "You've fallen asleep and have to wake up so we can go home." Helen opened her eyes and looked around groggily. "The Healers say that the operation was a complete success. I will be fertile again in three or four days when the sperm finish making their way through the, uh, whats-its-name."

"Not only that," Harold added with an unusual degree of excitement, "we were able to work out a way to make the procedure go twice as fast. We'll have to write out a paper for the Journal of Medical Magic before I leave!" Leila shook her head, smiled ruefully, and tightened her grip around his waist.

"He does tend to get a bit enthusiastic when he's working on something new." Tom helped Helen to her feet as her head cleared and the news sunk in. Then she launched herself on him and kissed him with enough heat to set half the village on fire. "Whoa there, be gentle with him for at least the next hour or so," Leila added, as she and Harold laughed and exchanged a lingering look. "For the moment, he's full of infertile fluid that will have to be cleared out to make room for new fluid," Leila added. "Do you think that you will be able to do that?" she added innocently over an increasing volume of unusual noise coming from the open window.

"I don't think that will be a problem," Helen growled, squeezing a noticeable bulge in Tom's pants. "Let's go home. We have some work to do! Doctor's orders!" They all laughed and made their way to the front door. When it was opened, they beheld an astonishing sight: twelve utterly filthy children and an equal number of exasperated-looking parents standing on the front lawn.

"Mama! Papa!" piped a familiar voice from a figure that was recognizable as Marcie only by her being taller than the others. "We had an accident at the Wemmicks' pond and fell in the mud!"

"They fell in the mud, then the water to try to clean themselves, then the mud again when they got out, and only then did they start throwing it at each other," said John Wemmick with a sigh. "What is it with children and mud?" Unable to contain themselves at the sight of the sheepish children and their tired-looking parents, Leila and Harold started laughing. It was infectious, and soon they were all laughing fit to burst. Five minutes later, they were all spent.

"We brought them here," continued a weary Jane Sanderson, "because this level of filth is beyond the ability of us to clean off in any reasonable amount of time. We were hoping that you would give them a Cleaning spell for us."

"Of course!" Leila replied, grinning. "Everyone go to the back. If we're going to be blowing mud around, it might as well help the garden!" As the crowd started moving towards the backyard, Harold shook his head and asked Helen and Tom,

"Are you sure you want to do this?" They exchanged a look of almost palpable intensity.

"Yes, yes we do," Tom replied, and they went down the three steps and along the path to the buggy, where the horse had been resting quietly after eating the oats and drinking the water.

"Was I talking in my sleep?" the Healers herd her ask.

"You were dreaming of our engagement," he replied. "It's my favourite dream."

"Then let's get home and make some more." They backed out of the driveway, Tom at the reins, drove to the corner, turned, and were gone with another fart from the horse. Harold and Leila were already nearly at the backyard by this point and heard her exclaim "Gods-damned nag!" in the distance.

"You want to have some fun with this?" he asked her, with a look of pure mischief on his face.

"I never see that expression except when Marcie is up to something," she giggled, and was grinning as they made their way to the kitchen door. The parents were near the door and the kids were at various strategic locations in the large garden, looking a little apprehensive, from what they could see.