Shorts

Cutie Cumpire Measures Up

Nora and Jasper were first introduced in Cutie Cumpire Goes to the Movies

You can find all of the Cutie Cumpire stories at Cutie Cumpire Story Index


Jasper carefully folded macaron batter by the oven in his—well, theirs now—little studio apartment while Nora sat on a bar stool by the island.

“You really do measure everything!” Nora said. She giggled as Jasper counted the number of strokes as he folded.

He quirked an eyebrow at her but didn’t dare lose his count—not until the batter was at the correct honey-like consistency and ready to be piped.

“I never would have thought the math degree would be relevant to baking, but here we are.” Jasper scooped the batter into the piping bag and double-checked the oven temperature. He’d gone so far as to calculate his oven’s heating curve and to tweak the bake temperature and time accordingly.

“So we are,” Nora said with a grin.

Jasper carefully piped the macaron shells, and once they were safely tucked to the back of the counter to rest, he started to clean up.

“If you like measuring things this much,” Nora said, “I’m surprised you haven’t measured your cum yet.”

Jasper’s cock twinged eagerly as if to say, did someone say cum? but he ignored it. “I’ve been tempted, but I know how you feel when I waste my cum.”

Nora blinked and tilted her head. “Wait, you’re being serious.”

Jasper’s cheeks heated. “Yeah.”

Nora laughed gently and looked at him like he was a puppy slowly rolling down the stairs. “Aw, babe. You should have said something! If you cum in a measuring cup, I’ll drink it.”

Jasper could not keep his cock from responding to that summons. He gulped. “Really?”

“Yeah, as long as it’s still hot, I don’t care.”

Jasper’s cock throbbed and pressed against his jeans. “I’m a Grade A idiot, aren’t I?”

“Yeah but you’re my idiot and you’re cute, so. You’ve already got the stuff out and you’re about to run the dishwasher, right? Let’s find out!”

And though it was true that Jasper’s brain became incredibly slow when it was blood deprived, Nora also moved unnaturally fast around the island. Perks of being a vampire, apparently. Within a moment, she was stroking his cock to full hardness.

His whole body quivered with pleasure. “Fuck, Nora, how does that feel so good every time…”

Nora giggled. “Isn’t it supposed to?”

“D-doesn’t seem like it should be allowed to feel this good…” Her hands were so soft and warm, and she knew all his most sensitive spots.

“Well, you have a point. I am demon-spawn. Satan knows what’s up.”

“Remind me to send them a thank-you note…”

“Filling this measuring cup with an obscene amount of cum seems like a good way to thank Satan. What do you think?” Somehow, Nora had also grabbed a clear glass measuring cup, which now sat on the counter next to them.

Jasper’s balls throbbed in agreement. “S-sounds good to me…”

He let himself sink into appreciating Nora—the strokes from her tongue, the gentle sucking at his tip, the warmth of her hands. And then, just as he was getting close to the edge, he had an idea. Because if there was one thing that Jasper was good at, it was torturing himself.

“If you want to get a really good sample, I should go get my butt plug.” Jasper blinked, and then Nora was no longer stroking him and was instead standing in front of him with said toy in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other, and a wicked smile across her lips.

Jasper nearly came just from the sight of it, even as his cock throbbed in the air.

Satan was definitely the right one to thank as Nora started on his ass with her tongue. Nothing turned his mind so utterly and completely to mush as that. He made no conscious decision to stroke himself, but his cock was in his hand and his moans filled the little kitchen. And then, after a generous application of lube, the thick plug filled his ass and the vibrations from the toy sent him trembling with pre-orgasmic sparks of heat.

Nora let him stroke himself but took charge, encouraging him with her own moans and gasps and then ordering him to stop as he reached the edge. Then she edged him a second time. And a third.

Pre-cum dripped into the measuring cup in time to his ass squeezing around the toy, and Nora cooed eagerly. “There’s already so much!”

Another thick surge answered. “Fuck, Nora, I’m gonna…”

“No,” Nora commanded.

Jasper gasped, groaned, and somehow stopped stroking long enough to recede from that point of no return. “H-how do you do that to me…”

Nora grinned. “You’re just naturally obedient.”

Jasper spurted pre-cum again.

“Stop,” Nora ordered.

He did. But the sparks of pleasure lingered, trailing around his ass and his base, through his aching prostate, riding on the vibrations from the toy. If he’d stopped even a half a second later, he would have cum even while he wasn’t stroking at all.

“Nora… this toy is…” He clenched around it, grimacing. “It’s gonna make me…” His hand started stroking again, despite his best efforts to stop. “Nora…”

Nora growled hungrily. “Make this fucking cup overflow.”

The heat ignited, gathering tight at his base. “Nora, I’m gonna…”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Cum for me!”

Jasper cried out as his two remaining brain cells struggled to direct the torrent of his orgasm into the measuring cup. Every spasm of his muscles around the toy was so intense, every spurt was so thick that he could feel it all the way down his length, his balls and ass and cock throbbing in time with each other and fulling the measuring cup with pump after pump, right to the brim.

It was only by Nora’s careful attention and balance that it didn’t spill all over the floor. She waited patiently for every last drop.

Finally, Jasper was finished. He turned off the toy, but left it in place for now. He didn’t dare look away from Nora, because she was staring up at him with those bright blue eyes and a wicked smile on her lips.

She unfolded her mouth, curled her tongue under the spout of the measuring cup, and then tipped it back and chugged his cum.

Jasper caught himself on the edge of the counter as he wobbled. His nerves had no idea what to do. He was so exhausted, so empty, so spent, but a sight like this deserved nothing less than bone-boiling arousal. Jasper memorized every detail. He would fantasize about this for many, many orgasms to come.

As Nora tipped back the glass and drank the last of it, Jasper’s body finally started to relax. But then her tongue arced out, and she licked the viscous remnants from the inside of the glass, like a cat licking out a bowl of cream. The glimpses of her tongue through the glass and the milky white of his cum sent his frayed nerves buzzing.

“I think I’m short-circuiting,” Jasper muttered.

Nora laughed, but she didn’t stop licking until the measuring cup was clean. She wiped off her mouth and then proudly deposited the cup in the dishwasher.

Jasper sunk another few inches. “I need to go lie down.”

Nora snickered, but wrapped an arm around him and helped him over to the couch. She returned to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and then snuggled in next to him.

Jasper drank almost the whole glass immediately. “I, uh… I knew I came a lot, but I didn’t realize it was that much.”

“How else did you think my ass was getting so round?”

“One, your ass has always been amazingly round. Two, you know I don’t understand vampire metaphysics.”

“I’m kinda surprised you didn’t cum again from watching me drink it.”

“Oh, my body tried to, believe you me. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem possible. If it were, I think I’d end up in some kind of infinite while loop—when Nora is drinking cum, cum more for Nora to drink. It would only end with you too full to drink any more or me dead, and my money’s on me dying first.”

Nora snorted a laugh. “We can’t have that. You should video me next time. I want to see what it does to you once you’ve recovered.”

“I will, and don’t worry, I took a very detailed mental recording too.”

Nora nestled her cheek against his shoulder. They rested there for a long few minutes, Jasper’s body doing its best to restore his internal fluid distribution to equilibrium.

Then Nora said quietly, “Just… for the record… If you’re ever sick or sore or just not feeling it… I can still go get cow’s blood. I don’t want you to get hurt. And if—well if you ever stopped cumming so much or even not at all—I’d still want to be with you. I mean it.”

Jasper looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his chest. She fit so perfectly there. They fit each other so perfectly in so many ways. “I believe you,” he breathed. “Thank you for saying so. I am, for the record, very happy with our arrangement. I promise I’ll tell you if I need a break.”

Nora wrapped her arms around him. “Good. Yes. I love you.”

Jasper kissed the top of her head. “I love you too. Now how about we finish these macarons and then head to bed and see how many ways we can thank Satan for making us so lucky.”


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Part 6: Denoument, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 48: Enveloped

The following weekend, Tanyth was busy training new staff. This offered Linza the chance to realize that as much as she was loving spending time as the three of them, she had missed her quiet moments with just Grun.

She’d invited him on another tour, but it hadn’t lasted long before they’d ended up back at Linza’s apartment, fucking in her bed.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling herself down over him.

His eyes fluttered.

She gasped. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know,” he said with a smug grin.

She squeezed him.

It was his turn to gasp, his composure faltering. 

She stole his smug grin until he twitched his hips up into her. 

She rocked against him, her arms over his shoulders, their chests pressed together.

He wrapped his arms around her and she was enveloped in him, in his warmth and his heartbeat, so much of her skin touching his skin.

She wished she could do the same for him, but there just wasn’t enough of her.

Unless… She leaned back for a moment and started a cant. The crystal at her neck hummed.

Grun quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He bucked his hips, trying mischievously to break her concentration. 

Fortunately, he caught her between words and so she didn’t ruin the incantation. 

As she finished, warm ghostly arms wrapped around him from behind. They caught his chin, gently tilted his head back. 

He sighed, leaning back into the embrace. “Ohh… this is nice…”

“It’s how I feel.”

“Really?”

Linza nodded and pressed herself into him again. As she did, the phantom warmth wrapped around him, pressing around both of them.

Grun shivered and his shaft throbbed inside of her. Soft hands brushed his hair back from his cheeks and ran fingertips down his spine.

“I remember,” she said, cheek pressed against his chest, ghostly fingertips trailing down to the base of his spine, “before, you liked… I thought we might…” The hands grabbed his ass.

He gasped. “Y-yes, please…”

Linza imagined doing to him what he was doing to her. The illusion instantly responded.

“Linza… oh fuck, fuck that feels so good… you feel so good!” His arms wrapped around her, holding her head against his chest.

Her phantom warmth did the same to him, running fingers through his hair.

“We’re not even very far yet,” Linza crooned.

“There’s m-more?”

“Oh yes. There’s so much more.”

Her ghostly shaft pressed in a little further. He’d only taken the head so far. 

She rocked her hips against him, making sure that there was plenty of sensation to help him along. Slowly, she pressed in further.

His eyes rolled back, his face became a portrait of bliss. He trembled and gasped. “Y-you’re so big!”

She wrapped her arms around his waist as the phantom arms cradled him. 

“Shhhh…” she stroked his hair. “Relax. Let me in.”

Those words triggered a chain reaction in his brain and all the tension, all the fight drained out of him and she pressed fully inside.

Her imagined shaft was dramatically thicker in the middle and thinner at the base, leaving him with a more comfortable stretch at the rim and yet a feeling of incredible fullness, much as he did for her.

He panted, squeezing her tight, his face scrunched with the overwhelm of the sensation. 

She rocked her hips against him, giving over her focus to her own pleasure. This heightened his as she squeezed down around him and her phantom shaft moved in time with her.

Slowly, at first. Only barely. 

“Oh fuck, Linza…”

Then a bit faster, still teasing. 

“H-holy shit…”

And then finally at her preferred pace, such that she fucked him both ways at once. 

“Fuck! Lin, I—”

She stopped all her movements, grinning smugly. 

He gasped and shook, but she’d stopped him right before the edge.

“I-I’m so close…”

“And that’s how you’re going to stay.”

A phantom hand cupped his chin, and he moaned. 

His shaft throbbed inside of her and hers in him. 

After a long, quiet moment, she started again. Slowly. Then faster. Right up to his edge— and then stillness. He gasped.

“Didn’t want your fun to be over too quickly,” she said. 

“So you’re tormenting me?”

“Exactly. You like it when I torment you.”

He tried to put on a withering glare. 

She wiped it off of him with a dramatic throb of her shaft. 

She started again. This time, she stayed slower, and dropped one of her hands to her vulva. Combined with the fullness, it felt so good

“I think I wanna come first,” she said. 

Grun nodded dutifully. “Can I help?”

“In a hurry?”

“… N-no.” He had definitely wanted to say ‘yes’. But he was being good. 

“You can help by sitting there and looking desperate, mkay?”

Her words had almost as dramatic an effect as her shaft, and his face softened again. “T-that’ll be easy…”

“Good.” She set the shaft to throbbing rhythmically, knowing that he was dripping pre-cum now. It was a pity she couldn’t see or taste it, but she couldn’t quite have her cake and eat it too.

Her imagination could give her the next best thing, though. Her mind danced with memories of him dripping as she rode him, her fingers working her clit and building quickly towards her climax. 

And she wanted it. She wanted it so badly, just like this. 

He sensed her breath deepening, her grip tightening. “Lin, are you—”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Every beat of pleasure for her was a wave of contractions around him. She captured his face in her memory, the shared bliss and yet growing urgency.

As the waves faded to aftershocks, Linza could think of no better way to enjoy her post-orgasmic sensitivity than to fuck him.

So, she did.

She started slowly again, teasing. 

He sensed the finality and trembled with anticipation. “Lin you’re… ngh… you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard…”

“Not for a bit.”

“Please! I can’t take it…”

She thrust in harder, and he moaned.

“I dunno, seems like you’re taking it juuuuust fine…”

“Please give it to me, please give me more…”

She thrust hard again, directing most of the pressure at his own spot of especial pleasure. “Like that?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, exactly like that.”

She obliged, escalating the pace until she was once again fucking him in earnest. Between her sensitivity and her view, Linza felt like she had never come down from her climax. 

He was in her, and she was in him. They moved against each other, skin against skin, not just where they touched but also where the phantom warmth ran over him, around his arms and down his back, through his hair and along his neck. They breathed the same close air, their hearts beat right next to each other, such a thin layer of flesh in between. They gasped and moaned and sighed into each other, content and yet wanting, wanting so very badly what was coming next. She tangled her fingers in his hair. He gripped her ass, pulling her over him. She fucked him, hard.

His grip tightened. His posture tensed. She kept up the pounding pressure on his spot, grinding over him, squeezing as hard as she could.

“Linz… Linz… oh fuck… oh gods… fuck… fuck… fuck!”

He pulled her down over him, holding her against his base as he burst. His face twisted with pleasure and then softened with release as he shook in time with the pulses of his climax, each filling her with more of his heat.

She held onto him as if he were her shore, she wrapped him in her phantom embrace as if he were her dearest treasure, and she was hard pressed to tell whether she herself had cum again or if the sympathetic pleasure was just that intense.

The illusion magic pulled away from her but she held it a bit longer, wrapping Grun in her warmth as he joined her in the afterglow, stroking his hair and giving him the sensation of his cheek against a chest.

And then the illusion faded, and it was just her in his arms.

He sighed and squeezed her tight. “Oh you clever little woman…”

She snuggled into him. Everything was so soft, so warm, so cozy

She could get very used to this.

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Part 5: Triangle, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 46: Proposition

Linza had requested to borrow the madame’s private area of the veranda, the same place that she had first met Grun, and the madame had obliged with a knowing smile.

Linza had arrived a bit early, wanting to be sure to be there first, and also too nervous to do much of anything else.

The sun-warmed breezes of the ocean rippled over the veranda and through her hair. That was much of why she’d wanted to do it here. The sun and the ocean lent her their expansive calm.

Had the day been stormy, she would have taken it as an omen and called off the whole thing. She still found herself ever so slightly wishing that a sudden squall might overtake the blueness of the sky and release her from what she was about to do. 

But just as the estate had no such rule against staff relationships, the sky did no such thing.

Tanyth arrived first. They wore a violet suit, their hair braided down and around one shoulder, strands loosed from the edges to frame their face. Linza suspected they had tapped into their masculine energies for assertiveness.

They looked more cheerful than Linza had expected, which either meant that they had not inferred her true purpose or that they had become much better at lying.

“Linza!” they said as they waved. They came to sit across from her, leaning back in their chair and looking unbothered. “I’ve missed you, this past week.”

“I had a lot of thinking to do,” she said.

“Did you reach any conclusions?” Their facade wavered. Despite their best efforts, they looked very interested in her response.

She hesitated, hoping that at least one element of the day’s timing would work in her favor. 

It did. Tanyth turned towards the sound of the door opening and to the sight of Grun ducking under the doorway, which did not admit his full height. He wore tailored trousers and no shirt, his hair caught up in a bun.

They looked at each other.

Then they looked at Linza.

Linza waved Grun over to sit down.

Tanyth’s facade slipped another inch, and they looked concerned. “I didn’t realize this was…”

Grun grinned smugly and folded his arms as he sat. He dwarfed the little chair, just like he dwarfed Tanyth. “I daresay that’s the point.”

“You know what’s happening?” Tanyth said.

“I reckon we are about to hear a verdict,” Grun said.

“A verdict? What about?”

“Well, she can’t very well tell us if you’re prattling, can she?” Grun met Linza’s eyes. It was a challenge. She held his gaze.

Tanyth glanced nervously between them.

Linza took a deep breath. She was regretting her decision to be sober for this. “What’s happening is… you’re on a date.”

“A date?!” Tanyth said. “Is someone— doesn’t that mean that someone—”

Grun still looked at her with his even eyes, his slight smile. He seemed to already understand.

“All three of us,” Linza said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Like a competition?” Tanyth squeaked.

Grun laughed. “If it were a competition, you wouldn’t be here at all, little bird.”

Linza was nearly offended on Tanyth’s behalf, but Tanyth just looked startled. They were all request and no command. In any contest, Grun would dominate, it was true.

And that was the exact thing that Linza had been struggling with. If she put forward an ultimatum to the two of them, she knew that no matter what she asked, no matter what she clarified, Grun by his nature would seize the prize. Tanyth, by their nature, would defer.

It would be an experiment that undermined its goal by its very design.

Her primary mistake had been looking to a competitive evaluation for answers.

Linza cleared her throat. 

They both looked at her.

“We, all three of us, are here to go on a date with each other. To see… if we all get along. Together. The three of us.”

Grun’s grin deepened.

Tanyth pressed their fingers to their lips. “I’m still not quite sure I…”

Grun reached over and cupped Tanyth’s cheek in his hand. Tanyth’s hand fell to the table and their eyes turned fully up into Grun’s.

“I believe,” Grun said, “that the lady is asking if we can get along. Do you think we can get along?”

Tanyth nodded emphatically.

Grun leaned down and kissed them tenderly. They melted into his embrace.

Linza’s heart raced. This was all going so very much faster than she had expected. Was Grun mocking her? Yet, would she really have invited him here if she thought he would?

He broke the kiss after a moment, and Tanyth hung upon him.

He looked to Linza. “Now, I am sure you are making some very scientific observations,” Grun said.

Linza nodded.

“How do you feel? Jealous? Excited?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Hm, that means the experiment must continue.”

“Does the experiment continuing mean you’re going to kiss me again?” Tanyth said.

“Only if you want me to,” Grun said.

Tanyth threw their arms around Grun’s neck and pulled themselves up into him.

Grun caught their waist and pulled them close.

Linza was feeling very good about her decision to ask to borrow the private veranda.

Grun had been right that she was too quick to defer to another’s happiness. But what had halted her every attempt to follow his advice was that, in the end, there was not so crisp a line between others’ happiness and her own. She was right to cut out abuse from her life, and she would do better at it.

But she was also right to take Grun’s words and find her own way.

Because holy shit was this turning her on.

Tanyth was floating, basking in the glow of attentions finally requited.

Grun was hungry yet tender, his erection already throbbing under his trousers. Whether he did it for her enjoyment or Tanyth’s or for theirs both, Linza did not quite know or care. All her cares evaporated in the growing heat between the three of them.

It was Tanyth who broke the kiss next. They cupped Grun’s cheeks in their small hands and smoothed the edges of his beard. “This is… just yes… but I have to…”

They had the demeanor of a drunk needing a stop in the wash room, especially as they extricated themselves from Grun’s arms and stumbled onto the veranda. But then they threw themselves into Linza’s arms and pressed their lips against hers. 

Linza’s butterflies exploded into flight. It was the sudden vent of wants left unsaid, the snapping of a leash and the rush of freedom.

To want, to crave, to hold, to heal.

Her selfish wish was that a selfless affection could flow between the three of them.

Grun came up around behind her, kissing her hair, her cheek. His lips on her neck, her shoulder.

Her wish came true.

Tanyth tucked their cheek against hers and she nestled into their neck, kissing them there.

“W-where there any s-stipulations on the use of the veranda?” Tanyth asked.

Grun’s hands found Linza’s breasts as his tongue traced the curve from the tip of her shoulder to her temple.

Linza moaned. “We have it for the hour.”

“Always so prepared,” Grun said, tipping her head back with his hand and kissing her again.

Tanyth stood and hastily kicked off their trousers, nearly tripping as they did.

Linza giggled through the kiss, and Grun pressed into her even more fiercely.

His hand pressed between her legs, and she moaned.

Tanyth’s hands found their shaft as they considered their options.

Linza wiggled and Grun leaned back, allowing her to strip her shirt off over her head and unbutton her skirt.

Grun’s trousers were struggling to contain his massive erection. He unbuttoned them and sighed with relief as he freed his member to Linza’s eager affections.

She could fit little more than the head of his shaft in her mouth, though Grun didn’t seem to mind her limits. He groaned happily and his knees shook.

Tanyth came to sit next to her, their hands finding Grun’s balls. “Do you want him inside of you as bad as I do?” Tanyth said.

“Most definitely,” Linza sighed. “But that’s going to take a lot longer than we have here.”

“When in doubt, cock worship?” Tanyth offered.

Linza leaned over and pecked them on the cheek. “You read my mind.”

Any of Grun’s previous machismo vanished as Linza and Tanyth lavished attentions upon him. He quivered and groaned—he gasped and his eyes pleaded.

He eventually ended up back in his chair, Linza and Tanyth kneeling between his legs.

They took turns between his shaft and balls, stroking and licking and moaning.

He shifted, rocking his hips towards them.

Linza broke from his tip for a moment. “Just so you know, he likes a rim job.”

Tanyth’s eyes lit up. They brought their attentions lower. “Ooooh, you took a bath right before this, didn’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” Grun said, “Never hurts to be… nnnngh… prepared…”

Tanyth brought their tongue enthusiastically to Grun’s perineum, licking eagerly.

Linza worked his shaft with both hands and stroked the underside of his head with the flat of her tongue. Already she was treated with another sweet drop of pre-cum.

Tanyth dropped a half an inch lower, and Grun’s voice caught.

Then Tanyth dropped a little lower, and Grun’s moans deepened, his whole body quivering with anticipation.

His shaft throbbed, his pleasure gifting Linza with more pre-cum.

Tanyth dropped a little bit lower.

“F-fuck! T-Tanyth I’m so close… if you get any closer than I’m really gonna… huh…”

Tanyth took that as an invitation to apply their enthusiastic oral attentions directly to Grun’s rim.

Grun’s back arched, he bellowed a moan, and his balls tensed at his base as he catapulted into climax.

Linza swallowed him greedily, the stroking of her tongue pulling even more out of him.

Both she and Tanyth knew how to read him, and they both eased just as pleasure turned to sensitivity.

Grun heaved a full-body sigh and looked up at them, but he seemed more enthused than sated. “Alright, who’s next?”

“Linza, of course!” Tanyth said.

Linza shook her head. “Nope. Tanyth.” She grinned a little wickedly. “I want to see how quickly you can make them pop.”

Grun sat up and dipped his head at Linza. “As you wish.”

Tanyth flushed red, and they trembled with anticipation, their own erection throbbing. “It’s only fair, I couldn’t impose, I—”

Grun dropped to his knees and stood Tanyth up in front of him, then took Tanyth’s entire length into his mouth.

Tanyth’s protests melted into a moan of abject pleasure.

With a practiced rhythm and genuine desire to please, Grun worked over Tanyth’s length.

“F-fuck… this feels like… like fucking it feels… nnngh so gooood…”

Grun tilted his head to wink at Linza.

Her own heart fluttered out of her chest. She dropped back to her chair and kicked off her soaked underwear. Her whole body was thrumming even before she pressed her fingers over her vulva. She gasped at the pleasure.

This spurred Grun on.

That sent Tanyth even deeper into their spiral of bliss, and both of those things together especially fanned Linza’s heat, which escaped in further gasps, and so on.

Round and around, they climbed.

Grun started stroking himself, the moans of his own pleasure mingling with the pressing heat of his mouth as he enveloped Tanyth.

Tanyth anchored their fingers in his hair lest they fall over, and they let Grun push and push them towards climax.

Linza watched them, capturing every curve and angle and note into memory. The arch of Tanyth’s back. Their braid unraveling. Grun’s hand around their hips, fingers reaching fully around one cheek of their ass. The droplets beading and then falling from Grun’s tip, as he slowly stroked himself.

Linza’s own moans deepened. She was getting close.

Within a moment, Tanyth was hanging from the edge, totally at Grun’s mercy.

And then Linza realized. Grun hadn’t really been trying to make Tanyth come as fast as he could, though he had certainly put on a show of it.

What he was really doing was holding Tanyth at the quivering edge as long as he could. Timing it all for Linza. An offer that the three of them might climax together. Simultaneous orgasm was hardly necessary for pleasure, and perhaps a bit overrated. But Linza had to admit, it was really really hot.

The realization of what Grun was doing for her pushed her over the edge as much as the sight of it did.

As she screamed her pleasure, totally forgetting that on the veranda they could not be seen but they certainly could be heard, Grun unfettered his efforts.

As Linza’s mind returned from the brink of sanity to the throbbing waves of pleasure, Tanyth groaned and collapsed over Grun’s head, wrapping their arms around his neck.

Grun swallowed, the ripple of his throat sending another trickle of pleasure down Linza’s spine.

And then Grun came, his moans making Tanyth gasp, his cum in thick white spurts across the wood and Tanyth’s feet.

Tanyth shook, leaning against the table and waiting for their senses and balance to return. They laughed as they saw their feet.

An idea sparked in Linza’s mind, a suggestion from the character of the orcish woman that she had summoned for Grun, and she voiced it.

“If it pleases,” she crooned at him, “Do clean up the mess you’ve made of poor Tanyth.”

The complete deference on Grun’s face astounded Linza as he eagerly bowed and licked his spend off of Tanyth’s feet.

Tanyth gasped, tensing at what might have been ticklish, their shaft throbbing to hardness again.

Linza had intended that Grun might use his shirt or something, but this was way better.

Finally, Grun looked up at her. “Have I pleased?”

“Yes. And we’ll get a rag for the rest. I don’t want you licking the floor, you kiss me with that mouth.”

He seemed to take that as an invitation, surging to his feet, scooping her up, and doing just that, plunging her into the heady musk of his sweat, the bitter taste of his seed on his tongue.

That nearly drove her into another frenzy, except for one thing—she couldn’t quite breathe. Reluctantly, she reluctantly put a hand to his chest. 

He leaned back.

“Okay, okay, I need to catch my breath.” 

He relented, and she folded into his chest.

Those next minutes trickled softly like sand through an hourglass. The ocean whispered. Their hearts slowed. They all silently reflected on what had fallen away, and what still was.

They stirred, then dressed again.

Linza carefully straightened Tanyth’s shirt, her fingers lingering at their waist.

Grun playfully untucked Linza’s shirt, and as she stopped to fix it, he flipped up her skirt and grabbed her ass.

They left the veranda and went for dinner, talking easily and laughing long into the night.

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 31: Pretty Little Thing

Wyn had offered to torch both Tanyth and Grun with fireballs, and Linza had the uneasy feeling that Wyn actually would if Linza asked her to. Linza, of course, declined. But the genuine promise of violence was a token of affection from Wyn, and Linza once again thanked the stars for her friend.

The rest of the week was manageable, and Linza was able to focus on both her day job and her night job without too much further trouble. Her conversations with Tanyth still made her a bit queasy, and she manufactured excuses to dodge a couple of their conversations, but overall, it was alright.

Tanyth was clearly enamored with Grun, though Grun did not seem to reciprocate their flirtations.

Wonder what that’s like, Linza had snipped to herself.

“How frustrating!” she had said. If only Tanyth had known the irony.

Linza had been looking forward to the weekend, not so much for the lack of work as for the distraction of it. She was off the second day, and she and Wyn had planned a proper girl’s day.

Her shift had been mostly regulars since new guests didn’t tend to book a weekend midday. She was coming up on a slot that had cancelled last minute. In those cases, other staff were welcome to come take the slot. Otherwise, it would be a free break for her.

It was two minutes past the start of the slot and Linza was just gathering her things to step out for her break when there was a firm knock at the ornate door.

“Come in!” Linza called.

Grun entered. His long hair was up in a bun and his beard trimmed short. He now wore fitted trousers and a blazer with no shirt underneath. Had Tanyth taken him shopping? Or was this his own preferred style? 

He looked around the little room, his eyes hovering over the grate for a moment.

Linza reeled, reminding herself that he couldn’t see her lest she totally give in to the panic sizzling in her limbs.

 “Hi! I’m, uh… Grun. I’m new here and I figured it’d best if I, y’know, knew what all there was here. Tanyth said I ought to, since lots of folks start in my department and then ask about other things. The vanilla department, that is. I— um, I’m totally rambling.” Grun sat down awkwardly on the bamboo mat.

She was reluctant to admit how much his awkwardness settled her. She could do without the arrogant swagger. Seeing him so nervous, she almost liked him. Almost.

Did he know that it was her? If he asked her name, she’d tell him. Otherwise, it was expected that the illusionist in this scenario spoke as little as was necessary, and usually only answered direct questions. Not all guests liked the idea of being watched. The screen made it easier for them to imagine that they were alone with their illusion.

“H-how does this work?” he asked.

For these experiences, Linza used her ‘reading voice’ which was smooth and controlled and different enough from her conversational tone that he might not notice. “You tell me what you’d like. Almost anything at all. You’ll feel it, like it’s real. At any time, if you reject the illusion, the effect and the feeling will stop, and it will look translucent. It will last up to fifteen minutes.”

He nodded and ran his fingers through his beard.

He didn’t seem to have noticed that it was Linza. Here, sitting at her stool in the cozy little room, cloaked in shadow, the grate between them, it was easy to treat him like she would any other guest. 

As he described what he wanted, the image formed in her mind.

And then as she chanted the words and traced the gestures, the image formed in front of him.

The image was a woman, as much taller than him as he was taller than Linza. She was half-orc, hair in a ponytail, golden hoops lining her ears and one in her lip. She was naked, her breasts laying against her chest with nipples darker green than the rest of her skin.

“Why, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Her voice was sweet and smoky.

He looked up at her, enraptured.

“C’mere!” She wrapped around him from behind and started pawing at his clothes. He unbuttoned them and soon was naked too.

Linza tried to maintain a merely professional appreciation of his body, ignoring the tingle of heat between her legs at the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles of his legs and ass, the slight softness of his stomach. She couldn’t help but remember the way all those muscles had strained on the veranda as he’d worked to control his release. His shaft throbbed quickly to its full length and girth, noticeably thicker in the middle.

Usually, Linza imagined the figures in the illusions as characters separate from herself, which made it easier to prompt them to say or do things that Linza herself wouldn’t do. But her professionalism wavered and though she couldn’t say why, she wanted very much to be that massive woman who towered over him.

The illusory orc woman gently pressed at Grun’s shoulders and he spun obediently, facing her and straddling her hips.

With one hand, she ran her fingers up his now hardened shaft.

He shivered and gasped.

Her other hand reached over his leg and easily cupped his whole ass cheek in her fingers. She squeezed, tugging at his rim.

He moaned.

“Why, you’re so ready to spread yourself for me, aren’t you?” she said.

He blushed and sputtered, just like he said he’d like to.

“Must be because you’re a greedy little slut,” she crooned.

“I am not, I—”

“Shhh.” She lifted her hand from his shaft to put a finger to his lips. She then ran that fingertip gently over his lower lip. As his jaw slacked, she pressed her finger to his tongue. He licked and sucked, eager to please.

With her hand on his ass, she pressed him closer into her soft stomach. 

Reflexively, he bucked his hips, grinding against her. He whimpered, desperate for more sensation, but too deferential to demand it.

Heat blurred the edges of Linza’s vision, her imagination all too eager to merge her with the illusion, to provide the phantom sensation of his throbbing cock against her stomach. It was risky and unprofessional to lose control like this—too likely to result in a bad experience for the client, an illusion that wasn’t to their liking. But what he’d asked for was exactly what she wanted to do to him, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop, not with his eyes rolling back and his breath shuddering with anticipation.

She withdrew her finger from his mouth and stroked his shaft in her hand, her palm nearly enveloping his entire length.

He gasped and moaned at the relief.

Her hand on his ass gripped tighter, stretched his rim more.

He whimpered with ecstasy.

A wicked, toothy grin parted her thick green lips. “You seem like you might like something like this…” She inched her fingers over and ran one fingertip lightly over the edge of his rim.

“Y-yes!” he said.

“Oh yeah? Do you like… this?” She brought the fingertip further over, running circles across his whole rim, still stroking him with the other hand.

“Yessss…” he moaned. He slumped forward, cheek against her breast.

Through the illusion, he would feel the softness of her skin, hear the thunder of her heartbeat, experience his weight melting into her, even as in reality he still held himself upright.

“F-fuck… you’re making me drip…” he said. His whole body shook with his trembling breath.

Linza slowed, not wanting to give it to him so easily, only halfway remembering that he had indeed asked to be edged. The pause allowed her good sense to catch up to her, and she forced herself back into her body, back to the awareness that the illusion of the orcish woman was outside of her.

Anyone other than her or Grun would just see the half-orc man kneeling on the bamboo mat with his legs spread wide, his cock throbbing into the air and his head steadily dripping pre-cum.

The thought had the opposite of its intended effect. With just her mind and her magic, Linza had reduced this swaggering man into a panting, pleading mess. He would explode onto the floor without a single touch to his cock, not from himself or anyone else, simply because of what she did to his brain.

She had been working this job for months. She didn’t know why it was now and with him that she finally understood exactly what she did, exactly what kind of power she wielded with her chants and hand signs and the rattle of a crystal.

It was even more intoxicating than the arousal.

“Good,” she said through the illusory orc, dipping her finger in the puddle of pre-cum forming on the bamboo mat. “I want more. Do you want more?”

He nodded.

“Say it.” She teased his rim harder.

He gasped and whimpered.

“Use your words.”

“P-please! I want you inside of me, please!”

Something long-dormant awoke within Linza, unable to resist the half-orc’s desperate call. It slithered through her mind, gorging itself on the knowledge of her power, writhing sensuously in the honey of the half-orc’s pleading. 

Gods, how she loved to see him squirm. 

Unlimited by the physical mechanics of lubrication and perfectly calibrated to the right level of sensation by the desires of his mind, she pressed her finger inside of him.

“Fuck! Oh gods, fuck, oh…” His whole body trembled, every muscle taught, just as when he’d wrestled to control himself for the madame. 

“You like that quite a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck, you feel so good… fuck, I’m dripping…” His cock throbbed into the empty air, a steady drip of pre-cum joining the puddle, even as he felt her slick palm slide under his tip.

“Oh? And I haven’t even found your spot yet.”

“My— Ah!” He cried out as the sensation overwhelmed him.

This was the special power of the illusion. She needed only suggest it and Grun’s mind would select his most intense, most perfect, most pleasurable memory and serve it up for him, like a waking dream. He would feel her fingers curling within him, pressing against the muscular wall, activating every single nerve of pleasure.

He moaned from his very core.

She gave him a moment to adjust, then withdrew her finger and pressed harder again.

His eyes rolled back, cheeks flushed, breath hitching. “F-fuck that’s gonna make me…”

Linza slowed the sensation, licking her lips as if she could taste his sweet desperation.

Through the orc’s husky voice, she crooned, “Gonna make you what?”

He groaned. “Gonna make me cum…”

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yes! Please!” He looked up at her with pleading eyes.

She would have teased him forever if not for the way that his begging stoked her own arousal, made her hunger for release, even vicariously.

Her own breath coming fast and shallow, she started up the sensation again, stroking him and pressing against his spot.

His whole body quivered, pleaded. Gradually, his breathing quickened again. His groans deepened.

“F-fuck I’m… I’m so close I… can I?” He quivered like a drawn arrow, so close and yet so obedient, earning his release by providing such a delicious display.

“Cum for me,” she purred.

His eyes rolled back and his whole body tensed.

Linza nearly lost concentration on the illusion, so eager she was to watch his cock as it throbbed in the empty air. 

The spasm started at the base of his cock, his balls pulling tight as his face twisted into a grimace and a growl curled in his chest. With a shudder, he burst, ropes of cum spurting in mesmerizing arcs and then puddling on the bamboo mat.

She kept up the sensation until his cum ran clear, signaling the end of his climax, and she gently slowed as he relaxed. Then she curled around him, humming gently and stroking his hair with her hand that was almost the size of his head.

The tenderness surprised Linza almost as much as the slithering wickedness had. What exactly had Grun awakened in her?

Whatever it was, it faded as exhaustion settled heavily over her, as much in sympathy to Grun’s afterglow as in indication that she was pushing the edge of her magical capacity.

She nudged him down gently onto the bamboo mat and smoothed his hair down, then released the magic.

Grun sighed, eyes closed and expression serene.

Linza sat on the little stool, her breathing slowing as she tried to account for what had just happened. There was now no denying that Grun affected her how no one else ever had. Surely it was wrong to enjoy making someone squirm so much, and yet… he liked it, didn’t he? Was this the ‘chemistry’ that Wyn talked about?

But why did it have to be with him?

And why did it have to turn her into this slithering, wicked thing?

She suddenly wasn’t sure if she liked it—if she liked any of it. Nausea tugged at her stomach—she’d lost track of time and pushed her limits. Maybe that’s all this was—just magical exhaustion making her woozy. Like lack of oxygen or sleep, magical depletion could have strange effects. Fortunately, her last two slots of the day were just for Minor Illusions.

Grun stirred and stretched, disturbing Linza from her thoughts. She was too tired and confused to do anything but watch him. He dressed again, but paused by the door as he went to leave.

“Thank you,” he said.

Linza didn’t reply.

He left.

Muscle memory took over as she slid open the screen and cleaned the room. Within minutes, nothing remained of what had just transpired.

The same could not be said for Linza’s mind.

All she could see when she closed her eyes was his climax, over and over again.

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 25: Come for Lunch

Linza had not spoken directly with the madame since the day of her job offer. She’d seen the madame often around the estate, but the madame was usually on her way somewhere or speaking with her assistant. When the madame and her assistant spoke quietly and walked together like that, even guests knew better than to disturb them. 

So Linza was eager for this opportunity to speak with the madame again. They sat on the private veranda just as they had for Linza’s interview. The madame wore a dress woven of golden metallic thread, loose except for where it tied snugly at her waist, effortless and yet extravagant. It made her greenish skin look like jade set in gold. 

Wyn had told Linza that she should harangue the madame into taking her on as a pupil. Linza would do no such thing. She just wanted to express her thanks. 

And so Linza’s jaw had nearly dropped to the table when the madame had said, “The reason I invited you to speak today was to discuss the matter of you coming into my direct tutelage.”

“I would learn directly under you?” Linza blushed at her own accidental innuendo. 

The madame nodded. “Yes.”

“May I ask… why me?” Things were going well with her clients, but it had only been a couple of months.

“You may. Would you like to?” The madame was ever so precise, but never pedantic. 

Linza swallowed and nodded. 

The madame’s full lips curled into a smile. “Your combination of empathy, sincerity, alacrity, and imagination are rare indeed. And, you’re good with numbers. I cannot run this estate forever, much as I’d like to. I seek to leave her with capable caretakers. Eventually.”

Linza took a deep breath. Her heart writhed, looking for some way to defer or deflect the compliments. But she didn’t want to come across as ungrateful. And maybe… maybe she could even believe it was true. Flattery and manipulation were antithetical to the madame’s stated values. And Linza trusted the madame’s opinion—this was only her second time speaking with the woman, but the estate spoke for itself.

So Linza let herself feel a little proud. Let herself smile. And then beam. “There will be documentation to review?”

“Of course.” The madame grinned. 

Linza nodded. “I look forward to it!”

A soft laugh like waves on the beach shook the madame’s ample chest under the golden cloth. “That you are sincerely excited by documentation is no small part of what will make you an excellent caretaker.”

Linza’s cheeks heated with a blush. “That, um, that does make sense.”

With the business out of the way, the madame turned the conversation to more casual topics. It was brilliant to speak freely with her. The madame was sharp and clever and sincere. She was just getting into the story of how she’d purchased the first property in the estate when a commotion arose from just outside the private veranda—shouting and then a struggle by the entrance. 

Then the wooden doors flung open and a broad half-orc man stalked out, shrugging off the madame’s guards, who looked apologetically at her. The guards wore blades at their hips and moved with fatal ease—they would have used deadly force to stop a genuine threat. But this half-orc seemed too strong to contain without such means and yet not dangerous enough to warrant them. He was the sort of man used to going wherever he wanted to. 

He was only a finger’s breadth taller than the Madame, with a mane of wavy black hair, and he was wearing nothing but black leather shorts that were hardly longer than small clothes. Irritation surged up in Linza’s chest like a hissing cat, and she was not sure which she found more annoying—the rude interruption, or that the mess of his hair and the taper from his broad shoulders down to those tight leather shorts was instantly alluring.

“Look.” He held up his hands to the guard. “I said it’ll only take a second. Just a quick chat. No need to be feisty.” His voice was warm and deep and Linza hated how nice it sounded.

The madame stood and crossed her arms, easily looking the intruder in the eye. “Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice was even—neither challenging nor indulging the interloper.

He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his shorts. “I heard a half-orc can get some decent work around here, is all. Just trying to put in a polite inquiry.”

The madame put a hand on her hip. “A half-orc can get decent work in plenty of places around the kingdom.”

“Yeah, but here I can get paid to have sex.” His lips twitched with a smile—not exactly lecherous, but certainly not innocent.

“Hm. I see you are not lacking for desire. Few orcish men are. But you may lack desperately for self-control.”

“Let me prove myself.” His bare chest puffed forward. 

“Alright.”

The madame leaned over to Linza and explained what she expected to happen, quietly so that the man couldn’t hear. 

Linza’s cheeks heated equally with embarrassment and arousal. Six months ago, she might have slapped someone for suggesting such a thing. Now… she wouldn’t miss what the madame had proposed for the world.

So Linza nodded. “I’ll stay.”

The madame turned back to the interloper. 

“If you would prove yourself, then show me your cock, that I might evaluate it.”

Said cock throbbed underneath the interloper’s small shorts. “With pleasure.”

He slipped his shorts down over his muscular thighs and kicked them off his feet, now fully naked. His cock swelled quickly to full erection, even without his touch. He seemed proud of that. 

Linza could understand why. It was larger than anything she’d ever seen. Not impossible to manage… but certainly a stretch. She shouldn’t have imagined what it would feel like to slide that length inside of her, but she did.

The madame nodded. “Fine. Your girth would please many here. Let us see your performance. You may masturbate.”

The interloper growled out a long sigh as he finally touched his hand to his shaft and stroked himself.

Linza’s pulse quickened, her arousal flaring. But her annoyance grew at the same pace. He was completely ignoring her. Not that a lecherous glance or cross comment would have elicited a positive response, but… well, Linza knew what the madame was about to do, and for the half-orc to cast some of his arrogance in her direction would have sweetened the experience for Linza.

Instead, the unbidden fantasy of grabbing this man by the cock and making him look her in the eye overwhelmed Linza. Her conscious mind reeled, unsure of what to do with that, but her body thrummed with deepening arousal.

“Now, stop,” said the madame. 

“What?” the interloper said.

Linza couldn’t help the wicked grin that pulled at her lips.

“I said stop.” The madame’s voice was pure command.

The interloper stopped stroking. 

“Put your hand down,” the madame said.

With a grunt, he did. His cock throbbed needily, his cheeks flushed and jaw tight with the effort required to stand still. He waited. 

“You may start again,” the madame said.

He was slower now, deliberate. He controlled his breath to curb the building urgency.

“Stop,” the madame said.

He dutifully put his hand to the top of his thigh. Took a deep breath. Swallowed. 

“You may resume,” the madame said.

As he did, he shuddered with a deeper and more visceral pleasure than before. It was not long before pre-cum dripped from his tip and onto the veranda.

“Stop,” the madame said.

He obeyed. 

After her usual length of pause, he twitched. Already, he had learned her timing. Still, he waited.

The madame let another long moment pass and then she said, “Resume.”

Linza was now deeply attuned with many expressions of rising arousal, and she guessed that by his rapid breathing and the steady drip of pre-cum from his tip that he was close to the edge.

The madame allowed him a longer time stroking than before, right up to the edge. 

“Stop.” The word was as powerful as the Command spell that Primmen had demonstrated, though there was no magic now—at least not in the formal sense.

He froze. Shuddered. Grunted. Dripped. Pried his hand away from his shaft.

The madame regarded him, arms still folded.

Linza knew he deserved every bead of sweat forming on his forehead and bare chest with the effort, but she was impressed—mostly because of how sorely tempted she was to slip her own hand down the front of her skirt. She had been eager to watch the interloper squirm, but she was surprised by how deeply she felt the suspense herself. She was irked by how excited she was to see what his face looked like when he came, to see just how much seed a half-orc male could dump uselessly at his feet.

The madame waited a long moment until his breathing had steadied. “Resume.”

And so it went, and the madame edged him again. And again. Five times. The clear puddle at his feet reached his toes. His resolve did not waver. 

Linza’s resolve, meanwhile, was melting like a candle in a furnace. She was going to need a long, long session in the break room after this. Her whole body tingled sympathetically with the interloper’s pleasure, her breath caught with every hitch in his, her own mind was hazy with lust, and she was sure that her eyes were just as dilated as his were.

The interloper reached the edge again. The madame did not tell him to stop. His breath sawed in ragged gasps. He moaned with every exhale. 

Linza felt like she teetered on the edge herself, although she wasn’t even touching herself.

But the interloper didn’t climax. He stopped himself, his eyes locked on the madame. He teetered at the edge. For a full minute. Just dripping and straining and waiting. 

The madame finally smiled. “Very good. You’ve proven yourself.”

He whined as his ass clenched and his spine straightened, a pulse of clear pre-cum coming with the movement. Nevertheless, he waited. 

Linza wanted to scream at him, ‘Just fucking cum already’, but she held her breath.

The madame’s smile deepened. “Please. Do cum.”

Never had Linza seen a face of such excruciating relief, such enraptured release, as when the man tipped his head back, lips parted, and with a low moan, utterly emptied himself onto the wooden deck. Spurt after spurt splattered at his feet. The volume was proportionate to his girth, and then some. Linza wouldn’t have been able to hold even half of it in her mouth, but she sure as hell would like to try.

He hadn’t glanced her way once, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Her whole body tingled with unreleased arousal, so intense and intoxicating that, despite her better judgement, she would have asked him to fuck her then and there if only he would look at her. And that, her better judgement reminded her, was exactly why the madame insisted on negotiating boundaries and preferences ahead of time before the heat of the moment melted inhibitions.

The interloper’s hand finally slid down to rest on his thigh, his eyes still focused on the madame. It was as if his climax had drained all the fire out of him, leaving just an expression of attentive sincerity. The bullish half-orc seemed now like a lost puppy.

“Good,” the madame said. “You will find decent employ here. Please defer to my staff from now on, and they will show you to your quarters and present you with your terms of employment.”

He bowed his head to the madame and said nothing else as he followed the madame’s assistant away from the veranda. 

The madame returned to her seat.

Linza had not yet returned to her senses. She wasn’t even sure if she could. Or if she ever would again. Who did that brute think he was, stomping in here, demanding a job, and being so fucking attractive? He had no right to affect her this much.

She could put him on his knees, have him begging and pleading to—

Linza needed to do or say something to get out of her head before her mind threw itself completely off the rails.

She cleared her throat and leaned further over the table towards the madame, trying to look casual. “Do things like that happen often?”

The madame looked as nonplussed as ever. “Not often. Half-orcs are usually already a bit more tamed by the time they get here. That one’s fresh from the borderlands. He’ll learn his place soon enough. Quickly, even—he seems like a fast learner.”

“So you’ll have to tame him?” Linza had heard of breaking wild horses. The battle of wills pitted rider against horse, the horse strapped and saddled and bucking wildly to throw the rider. She couldn’t help but imagine riding the half-orc like that, how he would buck and struggle until he was exhausted, how she would break him and he would look up at her with that attentive sincerity—

The madame chuckled. “No, no, and I didn’t mean it so literally. Orcish culture isn’t actually as brutish as that. It’s more about learning what tactics are effective in an interspecies society. He chose to defer and obey, so he’s off to a good start.”

The madame had treated him so unlike she treated Linza. To each their own, it seemed. Would the madame teach Linza more about how to deal with orcish men? And why was she so eager at the idea of putting this particular man in his place?

Linza did her best to focus as she and the madame discussed orcish culture for the rest of their lunch, but she could not quite shake the fantasy of that insufferable interloper moaning obediently between her legs.

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Part 3: On the Job, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 23: Sorcery (Part II)

Linza turned towards the empty third chair, partly as a place to set the illusions and partly so that she could focus. First came a low and building moan, filling the air all around them. Then a gasp and heaving breath.

This was a sample platter more than a curated experience, and Linza hoped it was what Nephis had in mind.

Next, Linza conjured an image of a woman draped across the chair, her hair a tangle, her hand in her sex, her face a picture of bliss. Then the image faded, replaced with the slapping of flesh and accompanying grunts. Then a man in the chair, head lolled back, arc of cum hovering midair.

Linza kept that pose and shifted through a few different characters—a werewolf, a succubus woman with a massive cock, a slender and feminine man with fox ears and tail.

Linza paused and looked over at Nephis—the tiefling’s eyes were transfixed on the fox. Nephis leaned forward, chin in her hands, one of her fingers pulling at her lip. Though the rest of her was still, her tail lashed violently like a cat with prey in its sights.

Without looking at Linza, she said, “Do sound and an image at once.”

Linza couldn’t, but before she answered as such, she hesitated. She hadn’t ever been able to do an image and sound at once. It was, however, a common ability for students who majored in the school of illusion. And over the past few weeks, Linza had practiced that cantrip more than she ever had while she was in school.

And Nephis hadn’t asked her if she could do it—she had told her to do it. And who would have better instincts for such a thing than a sorcerer?

Linza considered which illusion she might be familiar enough with that the image and sound would come viscerally together. She knew so immediately that she was tracing the movements even before the image was fully in her mind.

The octopus mermaid sprawled across the chair, her tentacles wrapping around the legs and the back and flailing in the air, cum spurting from the tips, her face twisted with bliss, and a guttural orgasmic scream echoing from the center of the image.

Linza nearly lost focus on the illusion. She’d done it!

“Nnnngh now you’ve gone and done it,” Nephis moaned, but this time her scolding tone enticed instead of admonished Linza—mostly because Nephis’s face was flushed red under the purple of her skin, and her eyes were glazed with arousal.

Nephis scooped her violet breasts out and over the edge of her bodice. As she took one of her breasts in her hands and massaged her dark bluish nipple, she pulled her tiered skirt up to reveal that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

With a pointed canine pressing into her full lip, she brought the tip of her muscular tail around and plunged it easily into her sex, gasping with relief. She thrust the tip in and out, working her fingertips over her nipple and vulva.

Nephis tilted her head over to Linza and smiled. “H-how’s this one for the memory banks? Nnnnngh…” She stuffed her tail greedily further inside, already visibly dripping around it. “I k-know I’m supposed to tell you first but… we’re empaths, aren’t we?”

Linza nodded vigorously. Staff were supposed to always ask ahead of time before initiating anything, both with guests and with each other. But sometimes, it was nice to indulge in the feeling of spontaneity—especially since Linza knew that she could simply take her leave and there would be no judgement, no consequence.

At JSMI, part of the strict restriction on romance with professors was that certain students might ‘gain favor’ or that professors might manipulate them with that idea. Ironically, that sex and sexual favors flowed so freely at the estate totally took away their ‘bargaining power’ in such a situation. With everything given and nothing taken, there was no power imbalance to exploit.

And Linza wanted absolutely nothing more than to watch Nephis pleasure herself.

“N-not all Tieflings are thirsty as fuck but— nnnngh,” Nephis shoved her tail in even further. “Fuck that’s good… —But I sure am.”

Linza was, as Nephis had just said, an empath and she took a guess at something that Nephis might like. An image glimmered to life in the third chair again, but this time it was a mirror of Nephis herself, fucking herself with her tail.

“I-is that what I look like?” Nephis said.

Linza traced the gesture again, and the image spoke with Nephis’s exact intonation, “Why would I lie to you?”

“Fuck!” There was an actual splash of moisture around Nephis’s tail. Linza’s rapt attention flowed into the illusion and it shifted to include this detail.

Nephis’s chest heaved, her breasts bouncing. The illusion blurred and then depicted those same breasts mid-air.

Nephis’s eyes widened as she glanced to Linza and trembled with a wave of intense pleasure. “Fuck, you’re good…”

Linza couldn’t help but smile, though she turned her attention back to the illusion, and so did Nephis.

It was like one of Linza’s art classes where they had been required to keep their eyes on the model at all times, and almost never glance at the paper. Linza focused entirely on watching Nephis, letting everything that she noticed flow into the illusion, her fingers constantly flowing through the air to refresh the image.

Nephis continued fucking herself with her tail. With the fingers of one hand she rubbed her clit vigorously, and with the other she pinched and pulled at her nipples—unwinding into deeper and deeper abandon as she watched the same unfold in the illusion.

Nephis reached a fever pitch, her moans and their illusory echoes filling the room, her whole body trembling, her mouth gaping with overwhelming arousal, her wetness dripping up her tail.

Then her breathing quickened and her eyes widened.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Nephis’s eyes rolled up, her back arched, her neck tilted back revealing the purple curves of her neck, and she came. Fluid gushed around her fingers and into the air, splashing over her tail. Then more. Then more. Nephis didn’t stop fucking herself and she didn’t stop cumming and she didn’t stop squirting.

Linza finally succumbed to the intoxicating heat of her own arousal and the illusion faltered as Linza’s awareness was filled with only her own aching need.

Finally, Nephis slowed, her moans deepening and softening and her breathing coming back down to normal. But she didn’t stop fucking herself. She turned her evening grey eyes to Linza and said, “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”

Linza nodded meekly.

Nephis withdrew her tail from herself with a sigh and waggled the tip at Linza. “Wanna try?”

“Yes!” Linza scrambled to her feet, though she nearly fell over. She kicked her underwear off from under her skirt, but didn’t bother to remove any of her other clothes. As she neared Nephis, the tiefling took Linza’s hands in hers and guided Linza’s hands to her breasts and pulled Linza down to straddle her in the chair.

With both of Nephis’s breasts covered by Linza, she curled the hand that had been on her vulva deeper around to her internal spot, and with the other she rubbed circles over Linza’s clit.

Linza nearly collapsed onto her. That is, until the tip of Nephis’s tail teased Linza’s entrance—then, Linza totally buckled.

Nephis didn’t take any issue with Linza’s face in her cleavage. The smell of incense and lavender surrounded Linza.

The first few minutes of sensation—Nephis’s fingertips at her vulva, the slender tip of Nephis’s tail twisting gently at her entrance—were totally overwhelming.

Slowly, the overwhelm gave way to urgency. Linza rearranged herself and grabbed Nephis’s breasts properly again, running her thumbs in circles over the tiefling’s nipples.

Nephis gasped, head tilting back, and she pulled deeper into herself with her own fingers.

Her tail pressed a little further in, and Linza moaned. Then further, with a delicious stretch. And when the length had reached the back of her sex and yet was still too slender, the tip curled back around to press against her spot as more of the girth slid in. The squirming undulations of the tail inside of her were unlike anything that Linza had ever experienced.

Linza moaned. “Fuck! Holy shit that feels good.”

“I know,” Nephis purred.

Nephis’s breasts bounced before her, the forbidden fruit now here for Linza’s delight, and she could not help but lean down again and close her lips around Nephis’s nipple.

“Gods, yes!” Nephis yelled, and the movements of her tail and hand on Linza’s vulva reached fever pitch as Nephis started to cum again.

It required no illusion for the sound of Nephis’s gasps and moans to fill Linza’s entire awareness. Nephis’s chest heaved, her hand slapped against the wetness of her climax, her tail writhed within Linza, and her body shook with wave after wave of release.

Pre-orgasmic waves of pleasure started coursing down Linza’s legs and up her core, just as Nephis’s climax was winding down.

Nephis sensed it and pressed her tail in even further, the tip pushing against Linza’s spot, the shaft providing stretch.

Linza let Nephis’s nipple fall from her lips and gasped once, twice, and then the climax overtook her. She squeezed down around Nephis’s tail and her fingertips grasped Nephis’s breasts as she lost conscious control of her body.

After the first several waves, Nephis stilled and just pressed her hand against Linza’s mound and the tip of her tail against Linza’s spot. That let the sensation of the pulsing contractions come to the forefront of Linza’s awareness.

Linza was a bell, peal after peal of pure ecstasy ringing through her, intensity slowly fading, but pleasure lingering.

Linza sunk down against Nephis, her cheek against Nephis’s breasts, her legs tucked by Nephis’s hips, the tiefling’s hand and tail still in place. They stayed like that for a long few minutes.

Finally, Nephis took a deep breath and smoothed Linza’s hair. “Lovely chat, dear.”

Linza stirred and stretched. She’d forgotten that Nephis’s tail was still inside of her until it withdrew and unwound, and the sensation of it undulating inside of her almost sent her spinning back into climax again.

Linza went and fetched her underwear from the floor. They’d been hot and wet when she’d kicked them off, and now they were cold and wet, so she stuffed them in her pocket rather than put them back on. Linza had started to bring quite a few extra pairs to work for this exact reason. Linza rearranged herself as best she could, though Nephis made no such efforts.

The tiefling remained sprawled across the chair with her skirts hiked up, her breasts resting over her corset and her tail draped over the side of the chair and hanging limp towards the floor.

“I’ll stop by the madame’s office for the paperwork?” Linza asked. Something told her that Nephis wouldn’t be facilitating the paperwork process, between Nephis’s earlier attitude and the lack of desk in the office.

“Clever girl,” Nephis crooned.

A shiver curled down Linza’s spine.

There also wasn’t a clock in Nephis’s office, probably because the woman preferred to work on instinct than clockwork. “Best not be late,” Linza said, curtseying with mock formality. She stepped towards the door.

“Now, Linza,” Nephis said, “With your new arrangement I’ll need to do regular… quality inspections, to ensure that nobody will mistake them for cut-rate work.” A half-smile curled across her face, equal parts mischievous and lecherous.

Linza matched it with her own. “But of course. And… does that imply that the rate for these other sessions remains the same as my current rate?”

Nephis grinned. “But of course.”

Linza’s excitement nearly jumped out of her chest, but she needed to focus and especially needed to not be late to her next session, lest she lose any of the patrons she had so far cultivated. She’d assumed, in error, that these new sessions wouldn’t fetch the same rate.

Linza dipped her head in farewell, and this time Nephis let her leave.

With a glance at the nearest tower clock, Linza confirmed that she only had a minute to spare before her next session, and she scurried around the corner and into her half of the little room.

Linza was lucky that her next guest particularly liked succubi. After the session, the guest praised her, saying that this latest work had been particularly inspired. It had been, of course—Linza had modeled the succubus directly after Nephis.

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Part 3: On the Job, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 22: Sorcery (Part I)

The next weekend, Linza was on her way to pick up her schedule for the evening from the little bulletin board in the alley with all the staff entrances to the illusion rooms.

As she did, Nephis waved her over. Nephis was a tiefling sorcerer and a confirmation to Linza that there were indeed more forces of nature working at the estate than just the madame and her assistant. Nephis had violet skin, elegant horns, a muscular tail, and hair like red wine spilling down her shoulders. If the madame was the sun and the assistant was the moon, then Nephis was the dusk. Libation, intoxication, anticipation.

Tieflings were rare, even in Harburich. One of the good Queen Lilly’s reforms had been to abolish the draconian laws censuring and limiting tieflings’ movements and even marriages in the kingdom, but culture changed more slowly than law. Most tieflings had left the kingdom altogether. One reason that tieflings had been subjected to such controls was that their infernal bloodlines also disproportionately produced sorcerers. While wizards like Linza courted magic through careful study, sorcerers’ magic surged forth unpredictably from within them. 

Though, once you understood that sorcerers were creatures of intuition where wizards were creatures of knowledge, it wasn’t so ‘unpredictable’ after all. Illusion wizards seemed to particularly empathize with sorcerers. Illusionists dealt with the subconscious and were apt to predict how an individual’s experiences and predilections might lead to their intuitions. 

And, in fact, sorcerers had a level of intuitive control over their both their spells’ effects and the energies that supplied their spells that any wizard would envy. It was perhaps this envy that lead many wizards to dismiss sorcerers as ‘unpredictable, unreliable, and dangerous’.

Nephis was one such sorcerer and she and the madame were old friends. Nephis’s intuitions had ever tended towards the sensual and the sexual, and apparently she had been the first to suggest illusion magic as part of the estate’s offerings.

Linza felt awed and overwhelmed at the opportunity to work directly under her—not least because she found the tiefling woman to be incredibly attractive. Linza had a crush on Tanyth, but her feelings for Nephis were pure lust. Linza had never experienced anything like it before Nephis, but at least Linza was confident that Nephis deserved every iota of admiration and arousal directed towards her.

And when Nephis waved her over and said, “Ah, I’m glad you’re early! I wanted to talk with you about something,” Linza nearly fainted with fright. Fright of what she couldn’t quite say, except that her own intuition was sure she was about to be scolded.

But she kept her chin up as Nephis withdrew and Linza followed her around the corner to a different little black door, which opened into Nephis’s office.

A statue of a little dragon perched near the door chimed, “Hello! Good evening!” as she stepped inside. It was a persistent illusion, one that could be configured with a trigger, such as someone stepping into the office. And then it would execute its message, a time-appropriate greeting, accordingly. Unlike Linza’s home, which was full of books, Nephis’s office was full of crystals, animal bones, charcoal drawings, fur rugs and other odd trinkets.

There was no desk, just three comfy chairs and a little table in the middle of them.

Nephis reclined, her tail falling to the side, her hands draping over the side of the chair.

Linza sat awkwardly across from her, feeling very much like a stodgy pigeon next to a bird of paradise.

The office smelled like Nephis always did—or perhaps Nephis smelled like her office—of incense and lavender.

Nephis’s eyes were grey like the dark side of a dusk sky, her lips full and smiling pleasantly. She wore dark reds and purples—a tiered skirt and corset bodice that propped her cleavage up in full view.

“Relax!” Nephis said. “Make yourself at home.” The tiefling’s smile was warm, and everything about her demeanor was—as usual—effortlessly seductive. 

The words warmed Linza as much as a cozy fire would have, and she settled into one of the chairs across from Nephis.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I thought we might expand your slots on the schedule.”

Linza blinked. “Expand my slots? I… I’d truly love to, but I think I’m already at capacity.” She furrowed her brow. She knew that sorcerers had some ability to manipulate their spell casting energies. Did Nephis expect something like that from Linza?

Nephis looked amused. “Actually, I’ve heard from one of your patrons that they’d be happy to book an auditory illusion only session if it meant they could get on the schedule earlier.”

“Really?” She often augmented her sessions with the smaller illusions, but she’d never thought that might justify a session without the enhanced effects of Phantasmal Force.

“Why would I lie to you, Linza?” Nephis’s eyes twinkled, like the first stars breaking through dusk.

Because you can do whatever you want to me, Linza thought, but she shook herself back to her senses. Partially. She wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Nephis tilted her head, and those dusk grey eyes held Linza’s. “I asked you a question. Why don’t you answer?”

Linza gulped. “I-I suppose I had just been lying to myself.”

“Good girl,” Nephis crooned.

Linza wondered if she might get away with offering oral sex to Nephis as a ‘thank you’ later—without Nephis noticing that Linza would have paid for the pleasure.

“S-so,” Linza said, wary of letting silence expand again. “How would that work?”

“You can let me know how long and what kind of slots you want to make available, and I’ll offer those to guests as they book. We can adjust that at any time as-needed, though I prefer not to move any sessions that are already booked.”

It all sounded very reasonable to Linza. “M-may I… ask a question?”

Nephis chuckled. “Of course.”

“Why not offer this from the get-go? Or recruit other illusionists that don’t know the higher level spells.” That was the other reason Linza hadn’t thought of this before.

Nephis smiled knowingly, her tail flicking like an amused cat. “That is an excellent question. It’s a matter of market perception, actually. We did initially offer such a service. But I found that there was a worrying trend of overly entitled guests. For whatever reason, guests tend to implicitly understand the effort inherent in giving or receiving physical acts and in casting larger spells. But Minor Illusion is such a little spell, it doesn’t cost anything at all to cast, right? So why should it cost much at all to have it cast upon you? I got tired of dealing with such complaints and so we only offer such things where there’s already an established relationship between a guest and a host. 

“And to be totally honest, it makes my job a bit easier with recruiting, too. Just because you learned a cute little cantrip doesn’t mean you’ve the mind for this kind of work. The understanding that we only deal with higher-level spells means that I don’t get nearly as many applications from illusionists that aren’t serious about their craft.”

Linza felt a twinge of uncertainty—illusion wasn’t her primary field of study. Was she serious about her craft? And yet, her patrons had requested her Minor Illusions. Nephis did not seem to be directing any criticism at her. Linza did do quite a bit of research and work outside of her shifts. All indications pointed towards her taking the craft fairly seriously after all.

Linza nodded to Nephis.

“So now that we’ve established your interest,” Nephis continued, “There’s just a couple of formalities.”

Linza grinned ruefully. “More paperwork?”

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. Well. The madame insists, so, yes. I was thinking something less… stuffy. Why don’t you show me what has your patrons begging for more?” Nephis grinned, a hungry look in her eyes.

Linza couldn’t be sure because she blinked, but it looked as if Nephis had licked her lips. 

Heat flared through Linza’s body—the sudden and overwhelming desire to give Nephis anything and everything that she wanted. There was no magic, no coercion—just the wild, sensual charisma of this sorcerer.

And then Linza remembered that Nephis had asked her a question.

She cleared her throat, her mouth watering with anticipation. “O-of course.” Linza mustered her focus and began to cast the spell. 

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Part 3: On the Job, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 17: Command

Linza had worked almost every day for the past several weeks, and as her routine became established, she started to branch out. She was curious about the other experiences and about the broader operations of the estate. And she was delighted to find that the house offered more formal educational opportunities as well.

That Linza had previously gotten a professorial sense from the madame and her assistant was no coincidence. In the administrative building of the house, there was even a small lecture hall with tiered seating down to a chalkboard—like a JSMI classroom in miniature.

Any staff were welcome to come to the lectures and demonstrations. A few were required as part of her terms of employment, and there were some that could be assigned as remediation if needed. 

There were classes on anatomy and sexual health, conversation and relationships, the application of magic, the history of sex, erotic techniques and so much more.

It was a weekend morning and the day’s lecturer was Primmen, a hawkish woman in her late fifties, her red hair going grey at the temples and pulled up in a tidy bun. She wore spectacles and a simple, slim-fitting dress in dark green. She had been one of the house’s first employees and was a widely respected expert in enchantment magic. She was, in fact, also a professor at JSMI.

This lecture was an overview of enchantment magic for erotic applications, and Primmen was just wrapping up the introduction. “Specialists in enchantment magic tend to, with very few exceptions, end up in one of four career fields: academia, litigation, law enforcement, and sex work.”

That certainly seemed to fit with Linza’s experience at JSMI. A lot of Primmen’s introduction was old news to her, but Linza reminded herself that she’d had the rare opportunity to study at one of the best universities in the world, even if she was deep in debt for it. Many of her colleagues at the estate had never so much as set foot on the campus. 

At JSMI, it was basically a given that anybody in the School of Enchantment was either going to end up being an officer or an inmate. Enchantment magic primarily dealt with manipulating the will and actions of others, so the consequences for its misuse were appropriately harsh. 

Using that manipulation for law enforcement, however, was deemed acceptable. For example, wizards learned magic like Charm Person, which was useful for temporarily winning the trust of informants and suspects. Linza was not sure she agreed with the ethics, but overall it seemed to be better than the alternative. 

Because Enchantment had not always been the go-to tool for law enforcement. Evocation had held that honor within the past century, but after a nasty accident with a rogue Fireball spell had burned down two boroughs, a reform towards Enchantment had begun. 

When you could simply cast Hold Person and instantly de-escalate a situation, there was not nearly as much need for overt violence. Though Enchantment magic was not necessarily harmless. In fact, since its threat was subtler, it had the potential to be even more dangerous.

Fortunately, the majority of law enforcement was composed of paladins, not JSMI alumni. The Stonewall Academy had its flaws, but it had a reputation for producing paladins of exceptional moral fiber. Paladins were also capable of their own enchantment magic, like Zone of Truth, which helped keep even the wizards in check. There were even a few higher-ups in the kingdom that had trained as both wizard and paladin.

“I must make it perfectly clear up front,” Primmen continued, “That when we speak of Enchantment in the context of sex work, it is important to understand that the will cannot be bent to cause itself direct harm. It is not possible—and rightly so—for compulsion magic to force any creature to accept direct harm. That being said, explicit consent remains absolutely vital because indirect harm, especially harm to trust or to a relationship, is very serious. Now, I do like to start with a demonstration. My lovely assistant, please?”

The main reason that Linza had come to this particular session is that Tanyth would be taking part. They had invited her and she now sat next to them towards the front of the lecture hall.

At Primmen’s call, Tanyth jumped to their feet and bounced to the front of the class. They were dressed thematically in a short pleated skirt, knee-high stockings, and a burgundy sweater, with their blue hair up in a high ponytail.

Tanyth had still not ever mentioned the illusion that had revealed Linza’s feelings, and that was both a blessing and a curse. Linza appreciated that over the past several weeks, she hadn’t had to suffer through too much awkwardness. But at the same time, moments like this seemed designed to torment her.

“Excellent. Thank you, Tanyth. Now, there are a few things to note. As with illusions and even non-magical hypnosis, the receptivity and willingness of the subject of the magic greatly enhances the effects. Here is one way that explicit, enthusiastic consent will heighten the experience. With this consent, some very enjoyable and unique scenarios are possible. Tanyth, if you will?”

Tanyth’s rising erection was already lifting the front of their skirt, revealing that they weren’t wearing any underwear underneath. They reached under the hem and started to stroke themselves.

Linza flushed both with arousal and a bit of nervousness. This was definitely designed to torment her. She glanced around the lecture hall. Everyone was watching with interest. A few others were taking notes, but the overall energy was more educational than erotic. She was still impressed by how nonchalant her colleagues at the estate were about sex and genitalia. 

Not that she was complaining—it would be hard to go back to being shy about it before long—but she still wasn’t fully accustomed. So, she was very aware of the blush in her cheeks.

After a moment, Primmen nodded.

Tanyth tucked the front of their skirt back over their waistband so that their erection remained in full view.

There was a table next to the lecturn and Tanyth leaned over the edge of it, bracing their hands flat against the table, giving a profile view to the class.

“Now, enchantments work at a deep and often unconscious level and they can operate on both the brain and the body. With a spell like Command, it’s important to remember how the subject’s will shapes the effects. And now, to demonstrate. Tanyth… come.”

There were no incantations or gestures, no humming crystal, simply the command in her voice and the magic responding to it.

And then Tanyth responding to the magic. They cried out, their back arching, and without moving or touching themselves in any way they orgasmed right there. There was a spurt of cum and then a slower dribble, less volume than usual—a bit like if you stopped stroking right as the climax started. Which, in effect, was what had happened.

Linza stared, awestruck and aroused. Her musings had proved prescient—Primmen must have studied at the Stonewall Academy to know Command, which was a paladin spell. Linza wished that she’d had a class with Primmen while at JSMI, though she suspected that JSMI wouldn’t have let Primmen lecture on this current topic. 

Tanyth sighed happily.

“Now, you will notice,” Primmen continued, “That this was not a particularly powerful orgasm. That’s because the rules of biology and physics still apply. An orgasm is the sudden release of sexual tension. If there’s not much tension, then there’s not much to release. So, Command is best applied when combined with other elements of the experience.” She slid a small vial over to Tanyth.

They picked it up, uncorked it, and applied a clear liquid to their shaft. Tanyth started stroking themselves again, this time with gusto, enabled by the lubricant. They made no effort to mute or even muffle their gasps, groans, and happy sighs.

Linza shifted in her seat, causing her own little spark of pleasure. She glanced around the room again. She was impressed to see that most of the others still had an academic air to them, though a young man a few rows up was as red-faced as she was.

The most torturous part of the whole thing is that, especially given the reaction of the rest of the staff in the class, she was certain that Tanyth wasn’t trying to torment her at all. They were just simply this matter-of-fact about these kinds of things, and they’d long been a teacher and coach here. Of course any of this would be casual to them. She may as well have been claiming somebody loved her because they’d told her where the washroom was when she’d asked. 

Primmen continued to lecture about some related details and recommendations, but Linza didn’t hear any of them. All she could hear was Tanyth’s gasps and the pounding of her blood in her ears. She was transfixed, watching them masturbate front and center in a lecture hall for the class’s educational enrichment.

Their face was so angelic. Pretty, handsome, androgynous, enraptured.

Tanyth interrupted Primmen mid-sentence, also not hearing her words. “I’m close, I’m gonna, I’m—”

Stop.” Another invocation of Command.

Tanyth froze, their whole body shuddering against the motion as if they’d suddenly been encased in a perfectly clear shell and could no longer move.

A large drop of clear pre-cum fell from their tip.

A quarter second later and they would have already been past the point of no return.

Primmen waited a long moment. “Alright, you may start again.”

Tanyth did, and it was not long before they were panting again. Primmen didn’t start lecturing this time.

“O-okay, I’m close again, I—”

Come.”

Tanyth’s body convulsed so hard that they fell against the table with one hand, stroking themselves vigorously with the other, adding much more cum to the floor below them.

Just as they started to relax, Primmen repeated, “Come.”

Tanyth cried out, the process starting again, still yet more flowing from their small body somehow.

And then just as it stopped, again she said, “Come.”

And a third time Tanyth came, hand gripping the table, back arched and body shaking.

This time, she let them finally relax. They wobbled and sat hard on a stool by the chalkboard.

Linza glanced around again. This last display had finally gotten to the rest of the audience. Everyone was now looking a bit hot and bothered, and she expected that there would be a mass exodus to break rooms following the end of the session. If, that is, the group didn’t just devolve into public sex or masturbation before leaving the room. Linza still wasn’t quite sure just how open the staff were when there weren’t pretenses to keep for the guests.

Tanyth obviously had no issue masturbating in front of all of them.

“There are a couple of things to note,” Primmen said, pulling the classroom’s attention back to her. “First, I find it pertinent to remind everyone that most feelings of ‘fullness’ or ‘capacity’ when it comes to ejaculation are just perception. The majority of seminal volume doesn’t come from the testicles at all, but rather from glands near the prostate. Second, a scenario like this is still limited by the refractory period, though this varies widely from individual to individual. So, this can be an extra fun scenario for those with very short refractory periods, like Tanyth here. Thirdly, as with many magics, when the subject is enthusiastically accepting of the effects, the spell takes less effort to manifest and so can be cast longer or, in this case, more frequently.”

A few of the other staff returned to their senses and started scribbling down notes. 

Primmen continued. “This is an example of what a single word can do. I must also point out the spell Suggestion, which is a higher level spell that allows the communication of an idea of up to several sentences. The effects of Suggestion can be maintained for up to eight hours. It is especially excellent for what I like to call, ‘enhancing the wants of the will’. An apt Suggestion may give you the power of will that you desire but lack. If you’re interested to see a demonstration of this, I will be hosting a session here again tonight and would be happy to see you there.”

Primmen continued on with a history of enchantment magic thus applied, but Linza couldn’t focus on her words. She was too busy watching Tanyth’s glazed-over expression and wondering what in the world Primmen’s next demonstration would be.

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Shorts

Faster Than Light


Mason Jones was over the moon. Literally! Over the moon! Further away from Earth than the moon!

He’d been on the waiting list for space travel for years. And being on that list owned your life whether you were selected or not. You had to eat perfectly, exercise perfectly, regular blood tests, twice yearly check-ups, it was a whole thing. Only those in tip-top shape were allowed to even stay on the list.

As Mason watched the earth become smaller and smaller behind them, he marveled that it had only turned around twice since he’d been notified that he’d been selected for the mission. And not just any mission. The mission of the century. The maiden voyage for faster than light travel.

It had all been a blur since then. Something about him meeting a certain physical qualification based on his most recent test results. Something else about his predecessor dropping out. Their loss!

And now, he was here, in space!

Soon the ship was millions of miles away from Earth, in empty space, and it was time to start preparing for faster than light travel. And to meet the rest of the crew. In all the rush, they’d hardly been introduced. There were six of them altogether; the pilot, the co-pilot, the navigator, the mechanic, the researcher, and then Mason.

“So, uh… I don’t think they quite told me in all the rush, but what’s my role here?” From what they’d listed, they seemed to have it covered.

The rest of the crew shifted uncomfortably, except for the researcher. She was a black woman, late twenties, round eyes, button nose, and like everyone else on the crew, in impeccable physical condition.

The pilot, a Scandinavian man with blond hair and nearly clear skin, blushed. “They didn’t tell you?!”

Mason tried not to let his growing concern show.

“Guess they didn’t want the same thing to happen as with Dutch,” said the mechanic, a thick woman with brown hair and blue eyes.

“You’d better tell him,” said the pilot, looking at the researcher.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” the researcher said. “FTL is theoretically possible with a careful warp of the space-time continuum. Recent research has indicated that human consciousness is more multi-dimensional than initially expected. Desire is inherent to the existence of life and thought to be species agnostic, so the theory goes that with sufficient desire, an FTL jump to another compatible concentration of desire is possible. This will cause the space-time fabrics to collapse, allowing instantaneous transport over light years.”

The pilot shook is head and put his hand to his forehead. “Tch, in English, Kendra?”

Kendra tilted her head. “That was an extremely simple explanation.”

The mechanic sighed. “What the good doctor here is trying to say is that FTL apparently runs on sexual torture.”

“Say what now?” Mason said.

“This is why your predecessor dropped out last minute,” the pilot explained.

Mason tented his fingertips in front of his chin. He caught eyes with the researcher. “I just have one question. Is it going to hurt?”

“Only if you want it to,” she replied.

A shiver tingled down Mason’s spine and his growing confusion was replaced with a growing boner. He was beginning to understand which ‘physical qualifications’ may have resulted in his invitation.

“Well, I will do whatever I must to make FTL possible. I didn’t measure my alcohol consumption down to the milliliter for the past five years to let a little bit of sexual torture stop me from making space history. Let’s get to it. For science.”

And for the predicament bondage and sexual torture fetish that he was now sure the government had scraped from his browsing history. 


The researcher had horrible bedside manner and that made the whole thing that much more thrilling.

Mason was taken to the center of the ship to a rig that comprised a body-shaped armature and a lot of bindings. He was sure that the space administration had spent millions of dollars engineering what was already available on the market as bondage furniture. 

The researcher had already explained to him everything that was going to happen, and he felt quite excited. He could also sense the eyes of the rest of the crew, grateful but curious, and perhaps slightly judgmental of his enthusiasm. And, shameless pervert that he was, that turned him on even more.

His flight suit could not hide his erection as the researcher finished preparing the machine. 

The researcher noticed. “It’s not that time, yet.”

“Yes, but a good service member is always prepared.”

“Hm.” She didn’t laugh, but she did seem amused. 

Finally, it was time to strip and strap in. Mason’s heart pumped hot blood throughout his whole body, but especially to his member. He shed his flight suit and underclothes and then the researcher secured him to the frame. 

She prepped a needle and an IV canister, and Mason looked away as she pierced his vein. This would be a mix of fluids, to ensure that he did not become too dehydrated, and a powerful aphrodisiac.

Even before the bag was empty, the drug started to hit Mason. It was an overwhelming surge of arousal and he strained reflexively against the bonds. He felt so hot, and so hard. And this wasn’t even the full effect.

Fuck, he needed to fuck something! His hips pressed against the bindings.

He focused on taking deep breaths to calm himself while the researcher finished her administration. He’d be able to go crazy with lust in just one more moment.

Once the IV canister was empty and the needle removed, she stepped around the front and swung another piece of the armature into place. It supported a cylinder aligned with Mason’s cock, and it looked quite similar to a masturbation sleeve he’d owned once.

As with the armature, he was sure that the space administration had spent millions — billions even — creating something that had been available to kinky consumers for decades.

But such thoughts vaporized from his mind the moment the cylinder slid over his over-sensitive cock. It was soft, textured and lubricated inside.

He moaned shamelessly at the sudden rush of pleasure.

The researcher moved back to the outside of the room. A series of concentric rings around Mason started spinning, though his part remained still. The researcher had explained something about the rings magnifying the effect and grasping the space time fabric, whatever that meant.

All he could think about was his body pounding his heat, quivering in an attempt to fuck the cylinder but held tight by his bindings.

Then the rings whirred to life and so did the cylinder. It squeezed around him, something near his frenulum vibrated, and he was totally overwhelmed with pleasure.

With the effects of the aphrodisiac, it was not long before he was moaning and panting on the edge.

But he knew, with profound and painful pleasure, that he was going to be on that edge for a very, very long time. This, the researcher had also explained. The space time fabric had to be given enough time to ripple.

He would orgasm when the ship made the FTL jump, and not a moment before. The armature was monitoring all his vitals, controlling the vibrations and the pressure in the cylinder, and it completely controlled his ability to climax.

The edge, the denial, the desperation aroused him even further and deepened his predicament.

After a few minutes at the torturous edge, Mason clawed his way back to thinking actual thoughts to give himself a bit of a respite. He found the researcher, watching him, and grinned wryly. “So, uh, who’d you test this out on before?”

“An adequate sample size.”

“Ohhh, so you’ve had quite a few blokes through your frame.”

“You’ll have a bullet through your head as soon as we’re back to earth if you make inappropriate remarks to me.”

“Right! S-sorry, just… not quite thinking… straight…”

“Please do surrender yourself to insatiable desire.”

Mason shivered violently. “T-minus… ngh… two or three edges and we’ll be there…”

“Would some visual stimulus assist your descent into sex-crazed madness?” Her tone was deadpan. But Mason would have sworn she was fucking with him on purpose… or maybe it was just him projecting.

“I, uh, daresay it might.” What kind of hilarious science porn might she have?

But then the researcher moved into the center of Mason’s field of view and unzipped her flight suit.

Mason gulped, arousal flaring hotter.

She grinned at him, letting him simmer in that anticipation. Okay, she was *definitely* also getting off on this.

Then, she reached down and grabbed the hem of her undershirt, starting to pull it up.

Mason quivered, every nerve alight with desire.

“For science,” she said, and pulled the shirt the rest of the way over her breasts.

Mason’s heart pounded, his breathing came in rapid gasps, the heat of the edge tickled at his base, the rings around him whirred with energy, but there was no release. No relief.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” she teased.

Mason’s dick screamed ‘yes!’ but a quiet and steady part of him said, “O-only if you want me to…”

“What if I want you to be here, trapped, quivering on the edge until your brain melts into insanity?”

Mason’s hips thrust involuntarily against the bindings, every hair on his body stood on end, the rings whirred louder. His balls tensed, but he didn’t come.

“What if I don’t want FTL to work,” she said, slipping a hand down into her panties, “And I haven’t turned off the safety, and so I will do this to you over and over again until you’re physically incapable of arousal, and we’ll have to turn around and head back to earth?”

“Fuck!” The rings were whirring so fast that they became a blur, a transparent curtain between Mason and the researcher.

And then something shifted. Mason moaned with a deep pleasure. He felt his sense of self expand, he was aware of something outside the ship, something very very far away, and yet also right in the center of him.

Something was coming together. Something very, very important was coming together.

“I f-feel something…” he said.

“Give into it,” the researcher said, eagerly. “Let it call to you.”

“It’s calling… oh fuck, it’s calling… oh god…”

The researcher grinned, eyes wild with anticipation. “God can’t help us where we’re going!”

The pleasure of the edge was expanding through his body, but slowly, very slowly. As if it was carrying something with it. Like a piece of the space time continuum and the ship of six space goers trying to bust through it.

“I’m so close… it’s so close… oh fuck it feels good… I need it…”

“Yes!”

“I want it…”

“Yes!”

And this his breathing became deeper, faster. His body quivered. His cock throbbed with pleasure, his whole being buzzing with heat and anticipation. “I’m… I’m coming… oh fuck… I’m coming… I’m coming!”

The researcher slammed her fist on the intercom button. “We’re going!”

“Fuck, yes!”

As the ship broke into the impossible space between space, Mason released his first thick spurt of cum into the cylinder. Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through him, squeezing more cum out of him, as the ship passed through fields of strange energy and hurtled through space.

Then, finally, Mason relaxed and the ship came to a stop.

In a completely different system, on the other side of the galaxy.

They’d done it!

But Mason was too exhausted to celebrate. 

The researcher came over and hooked up another IV canister for him, this time without aphrodisiac. “You did great,” she said. “Do you think you can do it again?”

As he let sleep overtake him, he murmured, “To infinity and beyond…”


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Shorts

Arachnia (Part II)

Continued from Part I


Three weeks later

Val had been doing exceptionally well in his therapy. He had only gotten six inches closer to a spider each day, and by this point, he could comfortably be within arm’s reach. Ara assured him that that was quite a reasonable distance. Spiders liked their own personal space as much as he liked his — the goal was just to get him to the point that he could keep his wits about him.

Ara could, of course, speak to spiders, and as Val had been doing better and better, she had asked a few to hide in places close to him while it was safe. They had slowly emerged when she’d asked them to and though Val had been startled and unsettled, he had been able to simply give the spider its space and then relax again.

He was ready. And it was a good thing too. Ara was starving.

She’d been preparing him in other ways, too. A week and a half prior, she’d caught him masturbating. She loved the way that she’d turned his fear, shame, embarrassment into pleasure by offering to finish the job.

And by all the stars in the sky, he’d tasted so good. It had taken the edge off, but she couldn’t feed properly in this form.

Val had been all too happy to indulge Ara’s enthusiastic advances, and they’d quite happily become lovers. Nothing made Val climax harder, give Ara more, than when she sat on his face and sucked his dick with two fingers up his ass. He loved to be trapped by her, helpless under her.

He was going to love her true form so much, she just had to convince him of it.

It was when they finally reached the sacred temple that Ara decided to tell him.

“Val, there’s… something I’ve been keeping from you.”

He grinned wryly. “You’re a rival adventurer and you’re going to stab me in the back and run off with the records now that we’ve reached the sacred temple?”

“What? No! No, not at all. Of course not.”

Val raised an eyebrow at her.

She sensed the tension in his muscles as he considered reaching for his machete. She needed to tell the truth before his imagination ran away with him.

“I’m not human.”

“You’re a spirit?” Val asked. He was an adventurer, he knew the legends.

Ara nodded. “I’m… well…” she shuffled her feet, blushing, not sure why she was finding it so difficult to say something so matter-of-fact. Actually, she knew why. If he ran from her in fear, it would break her heart. “I am… the one who… made that web. That you got caught in.”

Val was no longer considering reaching for his machete, but he did look troubled. “So you’re… a spider spirit?”

Ara bit her lip. “Yes. I am.”

He grimaced. “I wondered how you knew so much about spiders.”

She shrugged apologetically.

“Why didn’t you— well. I guess I know the answer to that. If you’d told me earlier I’d have high-tailed it in the other direction. So I guess it’s not so much why you didn’t tell me, but… why didn’t you want me to run away?”

“Because you tasted delicious!”

Val shrunk away from her.

“N-no, that didn’t come out right… Okay, so you know how spirits feed on energy?”

He nodded, cautiously.

“We can… ‘taste’ what somebody’s energy is like. What their essence, their character is like. Your essence is… really lovely. Generous. It’s the generosity that matters. The more generous the… um… giver of the energy, the less it takes from them to give it.”

“I’m… generous?”

Ara nodded. “You would have made getting me home your priority, you tried to protect me from the bandits, you offered me your clothes instead of theirs, the way you eat me out for hours… generous.”

Val’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a little bit of arousal. “So why tell me now?”

Ara was losing her ability to be tactful, eagerness overcoming her. “Because, Val, I’m so hungry. And you smell so good. And I think… if I… if you let me… it wouldn’t take anything from you at all. It might even energize you!”

Val considered this. His blush deepened. “What do you… what would you look like when…”

“Can I show you?”

Val nodded slowly.

Ara considered and backed up a few paces to give him some space. She then relaxed into the magic around her and her true form came back to her so easily. It felt so good, like stretching after a long time cooped up.

She was not fully spider, as she had been when she’d first seen him. Her upper half was more or less the same, with her curly brown hair and her small breasts. Her canines had become longer and more pointed.

Other than that she was like a centaur, her back half that of a spider’s legs and abdomen. Her sides were smooth and shiny, her legs long and elegant, her movements graceful like a troupe of dancers all moving together. She thought she looked quite pretty. But she knew Val might disagree.

She could sense that all his hairs were standing on end, but he didn’t look away. He didn’t run. He took a step closer, then a deep breath. Another, then a deep breath.

Ara kneeled, tucking her legs cozily up under her, which put her head at the height of his hip.

He took a step and then a deep breath until he was close enough to reach out and cup her cheek in his hand. She nuzzled into him.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kneeled in front of her. She kissed his forehead. He kept his eyes shut.

“C-can you… can you move so I can hear what it sounds like?” he asked.

“Yes.” She reshuffled her back legs, and there was the quiet clicking of chitin on stone.

He shivered violently, but did not run.

“O-okay… what is feeding like?”

She took his cheeks in her hands. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “You will be utterly trapped and bound by me. You will have no chance of escape, but you will have never felt safer in your whole life. I will own you, and I will protect you. You will give absolutely everything to me… and you will find that you have more than you started with.”

He shuddered and folded into her, his cheek against her breast, her arms around his head, pressing him into her.

“C-can you blindfold me?” he asked.

“Of course, my pet.”

He shivered. She was glad he liked that name. In her true form, she could no longer pretend to be helpless and uncertain. She could feel the power, the lifeblood of all the beating hearts around her, feeding into her, his brightest of all.

Her nimble back legs reached up to her spinnerets and prepared a length of firm, dry silk. She passed this to her hands and tied it securely over Val’s eyes. He gasped.

She turned him in her hands so that she was behind him and she pressed her lips against his neck. His blood flowed deliciously under her lips, the intermingled fear and arousal that she found so very, very intoxicating. She whispered in his ear, “This is your last chance to change your mind…”

Val gasped and shuddered. “Ara, take whatever you want from me.”

Ara growled with sheer pleasure and nipped at Val’s ear, then reared onto her eight powerful legs. Before he knew it he was in the air, lofted by her legs, rolling as she stripped off his clothes and wrapped him in her silk. The bindings were dry and strong with a comfortable bit of flex, and her legs where she held him were smooth and strong and gentle.

With him sufficiently bound, she quickly spun a web across the entrance of the temple so that she could string him up at her leisure. He would feel almost weightless, the firm hug of the silk replacing all sensation of gravity.

Now that he was wrapped in her bindings, they carried every quiver, every waver, every beat of his energy to her. She felt his pleasure, his fear, his excitement. This was why he was so very, very safe. She knew exactly how he felt, exactly what he wanted. Nothing would ever be too much. It would always be just right.

She turned him and hooked her fingers into the silk by his neck, her fingernails dragging along his skin as she pulled the silk aside. She put her lips to his ear. “You’re a very good boy, so I think you might not struggle, yes? But it feels so good to struggle…”

She traced a fingernail down the side of his neck and he shivered. The ticklish sensation sent him wriggling and writhing unconsciously. Where his growing erection throbbed against the tight hug of the silk, the sensation was incredible. She kept this up until his muscles were sore and he was panting.

“See? You’re very secure… No matter what, you won’t fall… nothing bad can happen to you here…”

He melted into her words, her touch.

“Now, I will tell you another thing about spiders,” she said, licking her lips. “We give something to our prey. And then we let them sit. And we let it do its work. And then when it’s ready, we drink up the results.”

Val whimpered.

“Would you like something like that?” Ara asked. “It will feel very, very good…”

“Yes! Please! Take anything from me…”

That is such a good boy. I’ve got quite the reward for you…” She tilted his head back to expose his neck. She pressed her lips against him again, and his heart beat wildly against her. First, she licked his neck. Like her canines, her tongue was not quite human. It was longer, rougher, and as it passed over his skin, the skin tingled and then went numb.

She lined up her fangs and bit his neck. Her fingertips turned to claws at his head, his chest, as she pulled him into herself and the venom surged forth. It felt so hot, so pleasant, rushing out of her and into him.

Her venom glands now empty, she licked the little trickle of blood from his neck, and her saliva not only stopped the bleeding but completely healed the wounds.

She did not have to ask him to know how he felt, because of the way the silk resonated with energy between them, but she so loved to hear it. “How does it feel, my pet?”

“I-I thought it would hurt but… it didn’t…”

“Nothing will ever hurt here, remember that.” She nibbled playfully at his ear. “Unless you want it to. But please, continue.”

He shivered. “I-it’s so warm and… and soft, like… like a couple of beers… but tinglier, like… oh… oh… OH!” His breathing became quick and heavy.

“Whatever is happening, pet? Don’t hold out on me…”

He wriggled against the silk and moaned as it gave him the sensation he so desperately craved. “Fuck! I’ve n-never felt… so horny in… nnngh… ever… It’s so tight! I’m g-getting so hard, please… please I need room…”

Val’s erection was straining hard against the silk over his member.

“What, room here?” Ara reached down and massaged his erection through the silk.

“Yes!” For a moment, he moaned at the pleasure of her touch. Then, his urgency heightened. “P-please, it’s so tight! It hurts!”

Ara grinned her toothy smile. “But you like it when it hurts this way, don’t you? I can feel it.”

Val whimpered and wiggled. He then moaned suddenly as the aphrodisiac venom soaked in even more, doubling the pressure on his member.

“I suppose I can give you some extra room. But don’t get any ideas. You’re not done soaking yet.”

Val did not have enough capacity for thought to ask what she meant by ‘soaking’, he could only gasp with relief as she trailed her fingertip down his member and the silk melted under it, letting his erection spring free.

She twisted him around with her legs so that his shaft hung towards the floor. With a soft hand, she cupped his pendulous balls. “Oooh, getting nice and plump. You’re going to have so much for me, aren’t you?”

Val just moaned.

Ara settled back to watch the show as her venom took full effect. The swelling of his balls was more metaphorical than literal, more fantasy than anatomy, but this was how she liked to weave her spirit magics. 

His balls became heavier and heavier as he readied himself for her. His arousal became more and more frantic, his mind slipping deeper and deeper into her spell. Bit by bit, he was surrendering to her. Bit by bit, he was readying himself to give her everything.

She touched herself to the sight of it, the moans of her pleasure enhancing the effects of her venom.

Finally, the venom was at peak effect. His shaft throbbed needily, his balls hung full, and drool flowed freely from his panting mouth.

“Did you know,” she said as she approached him again, “That most of your cum doesn’t actually come from your balls? There’s a few glands near your ass that provide most of the volume. Same ones that produce pre-cum.” She pulled the strands of her web to rearrange his posture, bending him at the hip slightly so she had better access to his ass. “They’re right… about…” She pressed at the rear of his perineum. “Here.”

Val moaned from the very depths of his being as Ara’s touch sent those glands spasming and a thick spurt of pre-cum flowed from his tip. Every single part of him was over-sensitive, over-full.

Ara’s eyes dilated at the sight, the smell of the pre-cum. She licked her lips. It was time to feed.

She cinched a strand of silk around the base of his shaft and his balls as a cock ring, then shifted him so that his cock rested comfortably at her mouth height. Without further ado, she took him deep into her throat.

He cried out, rewarding her with another thick spurt of pre-cum.

With his balls plumped towards her like this, she could easily loop her tongue around them, stimulating the sensitive area. But that was just foreplay. Her tongue lengthened, still sweeping over his balls but also reaching towards his perineum, his rim.

Val’s whole body quivered with incomprehensible ecstasy as the tip of her tongue touched his rim.

Had she been any less hungry, she would have made him wait longer, but she herself could not resist. She wanted him, all of him, right now.

She moaned and grabbed his ass, her fingertips digging into the flesh. She pulled him to the very back of her throat, her tongue reaching up, around, and into his entrance. He would have already burst except that the tingling, numbing effect of her saliva slowed him down.

“Ara…” he moaned. “Ara… I’m so full… Fuck, you feel so good in my ass… a-and everywhere…”

Ara moaned greedily and pulled him deeper, fucking him with her tongue and squeezing around him with her throat. She moaned and the vibrations heightened the sensation.

“Ara… I c-can’t take it… I n-need to give you… everything…”

She could feel his pleasure through the silk, feel the heat building slowly and inescapably. She would share in all the pleasure of his climax, all the quivering ecstasy of the edge.

“Ara…” His breathing quickened. He shuddered. Pre-orgasmic sparks of pleasure flickered at his base, his ass. Pre-cum flowed freely from his tip, somehow even hotter than her throat, and the feeling of it flowing through his whole shaft drove him even crazier.

His balls throbbed, desperate to unload. His whole body tingled with the effects of the venom, every place the silk touched his skin alight with sensual pleasure.

“Fuck… oh fuck… Ara… I’m so close… s-so full… Ara, I think I’m… oh, fuck… Ara… ARA!”

Every single muscle of his body tensed together, sending the first hot pulse of cum down her throat. Then another, and another, his ass tensing and pumping into her.

He slowed, but did not stop. For a moment, he could speak again. “A-Ara, am I… I think I’m still c-coming…”

Ara moaned affirmatively.

The sensation tipped him over a new edge. “Oh, fuck!” The intensity renewed, another set of hard spurts that tapered off but did not stop.

She loved everything about this part, but she especially loved these lulls, when he just kept pumping and pumping.

Each climax was more intense than the last, each sent more and more of his essence down her throat. But he had not yet given her everything.

The last lull was as intense as his first climax had been. “Ara… Ara s-something’s happening… I f-feel strange… I-I’m going to let it… I t-think I need to… I’m going to… fuck, take everything!”

Val erupted into the most intense climax yet, and every strand of silk hummed with a pure, radiant energy. He moaned in wave after wave of pleasure, energy flowing freely from him into Ara and back into him. The vibrating of the silk becoming a song of jubilant triumph, Ara’s own scream of pleasure joining the symphony.

Slowly, gently, the intensity of the pleasure melted into relaxation. The song quieted and the silk dissolved into nothingness. Ara pulled Val to her breast and fell asleep against the wall of the temple, her arms around him.

Some time later, Val stirred. He opened his eyes for the first time since he had come to kneel in front of Ara and he looked up at her in adoration. She brushed a strand of hair back from his cheek.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, his voice hoarse from all his screams of pleasure. “If I hadn’t lost my mind back when I stumbled into your web… this is what would have happened.”

Ara smiled down at him. “More or less. But you had a lot more to give me for all our time together.”

He snuggled into her chest. “It’s funny, I thought I’d feel much more tired for having been drained by a succubus.”

“It’s like I said. The more generous you are, the less it takes from you.”

“So we could do that… any time?”

She nodded and kissed his forehead. “However much you like.”

“I think I’d like to do that… quite often…” He pushed himself to sit up. “I feel like I just got the best night’s sleep I ever had.”

Ara tucked her legs more tightly under her. “I-I can turn back, but… you may have to give me a few hours, it’s hard for me to shift back when I’m this full.”

Val stepped around her and carefully reached out to place a hand on the smooth side of her abdomen. “No, it’s okay. It’ll take some getting used to, but… What you just did was so hot, I’m sure it won’t take me long to adjust to however you look when you do that.”

Ara caught his eyes. “I might look a bit frightening. I might look powerful and large and dangerous. I might look hungry. Deadly.”

Val’s cheeks flushed with arousal and his shaft started to harden again. He grinned and came to kneel before her, looking up at her with those hazel eyes. His voice warm with love, he said, “I think that will be quite alright with me.”


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