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

Chapter 21: Field Research

Fortunately for Linza and her research goals, there were plenty of experiences that welcomed voyeurs. She would have had to pay for the pleasure, in fact, had she not been on staff.

This particular experience involved six handsome men and a sitting room. At the center was the performance, and the voyeurs could each choose one of the many different kinds chairs that ringed the space, according to their tastes.

Linza had ended up curled in a wingback, partially for the sense of safety that the high back and sides around her provided. She was excited more than apprehensive, but the closeness of the chair comforted her all the same.

The guest in this encounter was a middle-aged woman with dark skin and short hair. Linza had noticed that guests at the pleasure house tended to be in middle or advanced age. She’d at first bought into the idea that they perhaps found it more difficult to find partners than younger folks. But then Linza had started to understand, especially with her guests in the illusion rooms, that the truth was that it took most folks some years to develop the boldness to pursue what they truly wanted. The older folks were more picky about their sexual encounters, not less.

And Linza was confident that sexuality and youth did not correlate one bit. Some of the most attractive, beautiful, vital people she’d ever seen were these people of so-called middle and advanced age.

This guest had a particular magic around her, a brilliant energy, and the six male hosts of the experience needed only do what came naturally. There were two half-orcs, a half-elf, and three humans, twelve eyes totally captivated by their guest.

They all wore robes to start and milled around the center of the room until it was time.

Then the guest dropped her robe.

The men started fawning over her immediately, sidling up to catch her attention, dropping their robes to reveal their own nakedness and throbbing erections.

“Please will you have me?”

“Don’t I please you most?”

“I’ll pleasure you the best.”

She put a finger to her lips and regarded the six of them. She lingered in that moment until they were each pawing at her, begging and pleading. She raised a hand. “Enough. I’ve made my decision. I’ll have all of you.”

And then she was swept into their arms, pulled into the middle of them, abruptly, insistently. As with every experience at the estate, this would have been discussed with the guest prior, to ensure that everything was to her liking.

Though, ‘liking’ was an understatement. The guest reveled in their attentions, delighted in their desperation.

The men ushered her gently over an ottoman and then there was a dick in her mouth and a dick in her sex. The other four ran their hands over her, taking turns kissing her hips, suckling her breasts, fondling her curves, stroking themselves all the while. 

Linza sat in the wing-backed chair, hands over her face and watching through parted fingers. She breathed quickly. Everything in her body, her mind, responded to the erotic scene before her. Her false modesty thus displaced, there was only a burning and throbbing desire. It surprised her. She’d been guiding people to masturbate for weeks now—but here, they were seeing her seeing them. There were more bodies, more sweat, more moaning. 

Linza kept her hand at her face as much so that she wouldn’t start masturbating as anything else. She needed to focus. Needed to etch these memories in her mind, to record them in her repertoire, to notice all the subtle little details. The ways the muscles of their abdomens clenched as waves of desire hit them. The coordinated but not-quite-simultaneous way their eyes and touch followed the guest as she moved. The way that one man’s gasping desire spurred the other five on. The way their eyes settled on her jiggling ass, her swinging breasts, her blissy face.

Linza even noticed how they subtly watched each other and paced themselves. These were not necessarily details that she’d represent in a fantasy, but she appreciated them. They were the real work of crafting a scenario like this, the control and coordination so subtle you almost didn’t notice, all to enable them to all climax at the same time.

Thinking of that eventuality, Linza couldn’t wait. Literally, she could no longer force her hand to stay on her cheek, and instead it fell to press at her mound through the thin layer of her skirt. Her underwear was already soaked. But she dared not miss a single detail.

Especially not when the guest’s breathing deepened and she grabbed the ass of the man with his dick in her mouth and pulled him deep. When his face melted into total abandon and Linza knew that there was no way he could stop the impending orgasm that was pulling all his muscles tight, like an arrow drawn on a bowstring. 

And with all the discipline of a military unit, the other five nocked their arrows and waited.

The guest’s orgasm began and she moaned around the shaft of the first man.

And then his arrow loosed and he pulsed his cum down her throat.

And the other five released their volley, the arcs of cum hanging in the air for a precious moment before falling across her body in a criss-cross of heat and relief.

The sound of six male orgasms in unison echoed in Linza’s ears and mind as she captured as much fidelity as she possibly could.

And then they slowed, and the woman lay happily upon the ottoman. She beckoned one of the men down and he kissed her as the others toweled her off and lavished gentle touches upon her.

Linza gulped. Her monetary goals and trained modesty were suddenly directly at-odds with how desperately she wanted to be the subject of this kind of experience. Yet, she would be embarrassed to have so much attention lavished upon her! Or… would she be embarrassed at the attention itself? Or simply her desire for it? She had no answer for that yet and did not expect to for some time. So, she watched the denouement of the experience with a quiet, desperate awe, her own arousal pounding through her veins. 

She glanced around. Most of the other voyeurs had already climaxed or left to do so elsewhere. She could hardly start now, could she? In the heat of the moment, nobody would have paid much attention to her. Here and now, though—they’d notice! Would they like it? Would they touch themselves again? She wanted very deeply such a scenario but she couldn’t quite bring herself to ask for it. This was why such conversations were best had before the heat of lust.

And so she stayed in the chair, one hand on her cheek and the other over her skirt on her mound, not quite committing to doing anything else.

Eventually, the men and the guest and the rest of the audience left, leaving her there alone and with the lights dimmed.

It was the kindest thing they possibly could have done.

Without anything to hold her back, Linza pulled up her skirt and pulled down her underwear. She buried her hand deep inside of herself. “Fuck! Nnnngh…”

She heaved up and out of the chair and over to the ottoman that the guest had laid across. Linza lay on her back and with a trembling hand she summoned a minor illusion. It was static and the backs of the men would be fuzzy, not quite within the range of the illusion, but the most important part was rendered in perfect clarity.

Their cum in frozen arcs, hanging in the air. Their faces contorted with need and bliss.

The vision was even more inspiring than Linza had anticipated. Almost before she realized it, she was cumming—that delicious blossoming of heat filling her body. Though this blossom did not bear the fruit of satisfaction, but rather of greater need. 

Unable to keep her eyes open, she set the sounds of the six men’s moans to play over and over again around her. She tried to savor the experience but could not escape the tendrils of urgent arousal that had wrapped around her and she gasped and panted and begged until she finally reached another climax.

This one released her out of need and into soft relaxation.

She heaved herself up and collapsed back into the wingback chair to take a moment to recover. She was confident that already she would have a little something extra for her guests. But her endeavor was far from over, she concluded. As with any kind of research—the more data, the better.

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

Chapter 19: Class Dismissed

Primmen continued, but Linza could no longer follow what she was saying. Linza was entirely captivated by the memory of Victor’s prodigious climax, replaying in her head. The expression of sheer relief on his face, how slowly he had tipped over that edge, the sweat that had beaded on his skin in his desperation, the predatory glint in Primmen’s eyes—Linza could have claimed that she was capturing the memories for later, but the truth was that she could not resist the stream of echoing memories that stoked her own arousal to a deafening thunder.

She knew that her face was bright red, knew that the way that she rocked on the edge of her seat was not particularly subtle, but there was nothing she could do about it until the lecture was over.

Tanyth nudged her with their elbow. “You look like you wanna bail,” they whispered.

Linza stiffened. She hissed back, “We can’t! We’re in the middle!”


“We’ll bother everyone on the way out.”


“It’s fine, I want to stay.” It was true only in that Linza would rather stay than bother everyone as they exited from the exact middle of the lecture hall.

Tanyth unfolded the little writing desk from where it tucked away at the side of the chair and pulled it over their lap. Apparently, they were ready to get studious. But then Linza caught movement in the corner of her eye and glanced over.

Tanyth was stroking themselves under the desk. With the angle of how they were sitting, Linza was pretty sure she was the only one who’d be able to see them.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

They shrugged and winked at her. “Listening to the lecture.”

Linza felt like a trapped animal, heart pounding and breathing quick. But it wasn’t fear that was rising in her, it was inescapable arousal.

She shuffled back into her seat, pulling up her own desk. She made a little fuss of rearranging her bag and her cardigan as she leaned forward into the desk and propped her chin up on one hand. Primmen was talking about how mutual consent was opening a whole new world for the Enchantment discipline and started into an anecdote on how she offered the Enthrall spell for students who were having trouble focusing in her classes and it had worked to great effect.

Linza hoped she looked interested enough to avoid Primmen’s scrutiny as she adjusted her waistband. She was deeply grateful she had opted for trousers that day—a skirt would have made this much harder unless it was as short as Tanyth’s. 

Before fussing with her buttons, she pressed her hand over her mound and vulva. Even through the fabric, the simple touch felt so good. Her eyes fluttered shut, but otherwise she remained still.

She managed to undo her buttons and slipped her fingers as subtly as she could down the front of her trousers and underneath her panties.

This had been a mistake.

It felt incredible.

She was so wet, so swollen, so sensitive. Immediately, her whole body was buzzing under her fingertips. How was she going to think of how to stay subtle when she could hardly think at all? 

Tanyth nudged her with their elbow again. “What are you doing?” they mocked.

She didn’t look at them. “Watching the lecture.”

Tanyth leaned closer and whispered, “Mhm, yes, it’s very engaging. Just… pulls me right in. Really… deep, just right deep inside all that tight… hot knowledge.” What started as Tanyth teasing her seemed to have become Tanyth spurring themselves on as their voice wavered with their own uncontainable arousal.

She dared not glance over, lest the sight of them stroking themselves render her totally incapable of decision making.

Now that she was finally experiencing some relief, Linza actually found it easier to listen to Primmen again. The professor was now describing how the spell Hold Person could be used as an accessory to bondage play, but that preemptive and thorough communication was key.

Linza wondered if some day she might be up there giving lectures about the creative applications of illusions. And maybe even alchemy. What other spells or recipes did she know that had erotic applications?

Linza’s breathing had quickened and one of the people in front of her turned to whisper something to the person next to her, putting Linza into their peripheral vision. Linza froze. But at the sudden stop in sensation, her whole body quivered. She quickly restarted, forcing her breath to stay even despite the wave of ecstasy.

She was in deep, and not just her fingers curling inside of her to press against her spot.

Like Victor had been, Linza was unable to stop. If she did, she’d give a far more obvious indication of what she was doing than if she continued.

And besides, it felt so good. She was so wet, so ready. Even just the gentle swirl of her fingertips over her clit filled her with electric warmth.

She could cum quietly—she’d at least had some practice with that during her first two years of university when she’d lived with a roommate. But that was in the dark, under her blanket, with the thrumming of the adjacent boiler room drowning out her quickened breathing. Here, someone could look directly at her at any moment.

It was enough to attenuate her arousal, at least partially. But not so much that she was going to be able to bring herself to stop. If anything, she was actually making her predicament worse, because she was building up all the more tension for that final release.

It was going to feel so good. She wanted it so badly.

But how?

She didn’t have much longer to decide. Her heat was building and she couldn’t resist it. She didn’t want to resist it. She was caring less and less about what happened around her, caring less and less about who might see or how they might notice, and she was more and more intent on grasping at the relief that felt so close.

And then suddenly everyone around her stirred. Nobody was looking at her—they were nodding and grabbing their bags.

She searched through her memory of the past three seconds. Primmen had said, “Class dismissed.”

Class dismissed! No! She needed—she couldn’t stop, there was no way—she was so close—though, this could work.

Linza leaned down as if to dig for something in her bag so that her face was towards the ground and not towards anyone. She worked her hand in circles over her clit, her labia, her fingers pressing her spot inside. Her breath quickened with her arousal and she panted as quietly as she could.

And then—she could feel it, so close, the heat igniting, the pleasure blooming, the first expanding wave of relief and ecstasy, her back arching and pressing her shoulder into the desk. She stilled her hand earlier than she normally would have so that she did not shake so violently, and so there was a needy ache intermingled with the relief, though that too was pleasurable. It promised her that she would finish this later.

And so she climaxed right there in the middle of the classroom, bent over her bag and with her fingers buried inside of herself, nobody paying her too much attention.

Arousal still tingled through her, begging for more. But for now, she was adequately sated and feeling much more clear-headed.

Her hand was also soaking wet, and as she carefully transitioned a handkerchief from her bag to her other hand, she noticed that Tanyth was eying her and most of the rest of the attendees were already at the door. 

“I’m impressed,” Tanyth said.

Linza swallowed, re-buttoning her trousers. “Whatever for?”

Primmen called up to them from the front of the classroom, where she was erasing the chalkboard. “Glad you could make it, Tanyth! And glad you enjoyed the lecture.” She grinned knowingly.

Tanyth smiled and nodded. “It was very inspiring. Wasn’t it, Linza?”

“Mmm, mhm. Yes. Very inspiring.” She did her best to wipe off her hand and to not panic. Then again, it had been totally worth it. Her whole body was still glowing. She’d racked up quite a bit of tension since the other lecture that morning.

“I’m always looking for enthusiastic volunteers,” Primmen said.

Another spark of arousal hit Linza in the core. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

She and Tanyth finished gathering themselves and then as they got out to the hallway, she whispered to them, “Ugh, I can’t believe she noticed!”

“Well, of course she did,” Tanyth said. “She’s pretty attuned to those things. And I bet she was flattered. She obviously has a thing for making people irresistibly aroused.”

Linza considered that. “Oh. That does make sense.”

“You made her day, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, I— Hey, is that an empty classroom?” The light was dim beyond the frosted glass door.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I just need to— do you want to— I mean it’s closer than the—”

Tanyth caught her drift, and then caught her hand in theirs and pushed into the room. It was smaller than the lecture hall, the chairs arranged in a grid but not on different levels.

“Are there any other classes tonight?” Linza whispered, even though the door was shut behind them and nobody was likely to hear.

“Nah, and the cleaners don’t come ‘till the morning, so we’re clear.”

“Fuck.” Linza dropped her bag in the middle of the floor and then her hand was down the front of her trousers again. She felt just as sensitive, wanted it just as badly, despite her incremental relief. She wasn’t even nervous in front of Tanyth.

Tanyth giggled. “Today really got to you, huh? Did you like seeing me up on stage?”

“Yeah,” Linza whimpered.

Tanyth laughed. “Oh wow, you really did, didn’t you. Well, then I think it’s only fair that I help you out with that.”

“H-help me out?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Yes! I mean uh, yeah. Please.” Linza remembered her first day in the break room, when she had soaked in arousal the whole day and Tanyth’s expert touch had brought her incredible pleasure.

“I was thinking you could use an oral history lesson.”

Linza’s mind attempted to connect the dots through her haze. Were they offering oral sex? “Yes, please!” She quickly unbuttoned her trousers and pushed them to her knees. Her emotions might make her pay for it later, but it would be like a hangover from a really good bottle of wine. It would be worth it. Also, she was thirty as fuck and not about to say ‘no’. 

“Pick a chair, any chair,” Tanyth said.

Linza plopped down in the one right behind her.

Tanyth came between her knees and ran their soft hands down her inner thighs.

Every touch was a jolt of pleasure. She gasped.

“Mmmm you smell good,” they said.

Before Linza could reply, they had pressed their tongue gently over the top of her vulva.

“O-oh, oh fuck, that feels so good…” Her whole body was trembling, welling with ecstasy.

Tanyth pressed in further, starting up a rhythm with their tongue—over her labia and then her clitoris in long licks.

Linza melted into the chair.

Tanyth was an expert, picking up on all her subtle affirmations and doing more of that, always responsive to her explicit corrections or requests. Faster than usual, she was nearing the edge.

“Tanyth, fuck, Tanyth, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna, I—” It took all her willpower not to scream as the pleasure bloomed from inside of her. As instructed, they didn’t stop, and her orgasm stretched out in long and wonderful waves.

As Linza stilled, they stood between her legs and started stroking themselves. She leaned up and gently took their hips in her hands. Their skin was so soft. “May I?”

They nodded.

She dipped her head under their hands and turned her own oral attentions to their balls. They too were soft and smooth, and Linza knew it was her imagination but she would have sworn that even their skin tasted sweet.

Her tongue traveled further back to their perineum, pressing with firm, wide licks.

“Linza if you do that you’re gonna make me, you’ll make me—”

Just as their breath caught and they hung at the edge, Linza sat up and took their tip in her mouth, catching the sweet heat of their pleasure. They cupped her cheek in their hand as they rode out the shuddering waves of delight.

When Linza finally stood, Tanyth giggled and pointed out that the cushion was soaking wet.

“Oh shit. Wait, this isn’t my fault, that has to be mostly your drool.”

“Nuh uh,” Tanyth said, shrugging dramatically.

Linza narrowed her eyes at them in mock indignation. “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook this time. This one time.” 

The other two cantrips that Linza knew, other than Minor Illusion, were Mending and Prestidigitation. The latter was capable of quite a few different effects, and one of those was cleaning a small area. She spoke the chant and performed the gesture and as she spread her hand over the cushion, it became instantly clean and dry.

“Hm, I should have made a much bigger mess, then,” Tanyth said.

“So you admit it was you!” Linza jabbed her finger at them in mock triumph.

“Nuh uh!”

They quickly redressed and then Linza chased Tanyth down the hallway, both laughing and giddy and filled with the light of the afterglow.

But that glow cast a shadow, the aching reminder that she loved them.

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

Chapter 18: Suggestion

Linza had been thinking about it all afternoon. She’d hardly been able to do anything else. Just like with illusions, the applications of a spell like Suggestion were limited only by the imagination. And, just like Phantasmal Force, she’d known of the spell’s usual applications but never considered its erotic potential.

And this was a rare opportunity. Suggestion was rarely taught except to academics and those who had shown remarkable integrity as a student and had already committed to a career in law enforcement. It was a subtle spell, and if the original casting were disguised and the suggestion reasonable, the subject may never realize that someone had manipulated them with magic.

Linza had never considered the power of bringing such a spell out into the open in this way, but since Primmen had suggested it, it was all that Linza could think about. She’d ended up sitting by a fountain in one of the side squares off of the main street, mind wandering through the implications.

The first and most obvious scenario was orgasm denial. The suggestion could be, ‘edge yourself until I tell you that you’re allowed to come’. With the spell duration of up to 8 hours, the final effect would be incredible.

Another option would be, ‘don’t masturbate today’. This, of course, could be planned for a time that was expected to be especially tempting, like right before a striptease.

Linza finally dug out a notebook to scrawl down the suggestions that came to mind, both as material for her writing and also in an effort to perhaps purge some of the frantic, lust-driven curiosity from her brain.

Edge yourself at work today, at least once every half hour, but don’t cum until you get home.

Go take a long bath and think about your favorite sexual memory, but don’t touch yourself yet.

Tell me about your most favorite sexual fantasies until you’re dripping.

Whenever you start to feel irritated today, feel aroused instead.

Bring yourself to orgasm without using your hands.

Every time someone asks how you’re doing today, moan ‘good’ like a slut.

Linza filled pages, but she was unsuccessful at purging anything from her brain—quite the opposite. She considered pausing by the break room on her way to the session to clear her head, if she had the time for it. She glanced at the clock—she was already a minute late!

Linza jumped to her feet and jogged over to the admin building. She weaved through the others milling in the halls and then finally found the entrance to the lecture hall. Breathless, she slipped into the back.

Tanyth had saved her a seat near the middle, which she both appreciated and resented. She’d have a much better view sitting with them, but she felt embarrassed as she squeezed past all the other folks on the edge of the row who’d been there on time.

After what felt like an eternity of apologizing and shuffling, she landed next to Tanyth.

“I miss much?” she whispered.

“No, you’re just in time!” They patted her knee.

Her stomach flipped. Lizna’s composure was already a total mess. As she shifted in her seat, shivering at the sensation through her vulva, she regretted not properly setting aside time to clear her head before the session.

Primmen was at the front of the classroom, and next to her was a man in a simple linen robe and nothing else. He had dark hair, olive complexion, and a medium build.

“…so it is of the utmost importance to remember that the most powerful organ in the body that relates to arousal is the brain. Therefore, suggestions that leverage the influence and expectations of the brain are extremely effective. These suggestions are also enjoyable when they are somewhat fantastic in nature. So, Victor and I are going to demonstrate one such scenario tonight.”

Primmen reached over to a bowl that sat on the table and plucked out a bunch of grapes. She plucked and ate one, and then offered them to others in the first row. “First, we must all agree that these are totally normal grapes.”

The front row ate their grapes and then nodded their confirmation.

Primmen thanked them and returned to the table. “Alright Victor, you try a few too, just to show that nothing’s happening yet.”

Victor obliged. He smiled. “Still feeling normal.”

“Excellent. Your robe, then?”

He shrugged off the robe and then stood before them, totally naked. He was flaccid, relaxed. “Reminds me of my days posing for drawing classes,” he chuckled.

“Alright, next I will cast the spell, and then you will all hear the Suggestion.” Primmen started chanting, moving her hands precisely through the air. She wore a bracelet of crystals set in gold, and those glowed and vibrated as she spoke. When the incantation was done, she looked Victor in the eye and said, “To you, these grapes will be as the most irresistible aphrodisiac. The slightest taste will leave you debilitatingly aroused. Each one will intensify the experience, and yet you will not be able to climax until you finish the bowl.”

There was one bunch left in the bowl, a reasonable snack.

Linza was impressed—of course her own imagination had been limited. She’d only considered suggesting somebody modify their behavior, not this type of perception modification! She would have to consider later how illusion and suggestion might synergize.

For the moment, nothing yet had happened.

“How do you feel?” Primmen said.

Victor smiled wryly. “A bit skeptical, to be honest. It seems too good to be true.”

“That’s quite alright.” Primmen smiled politely, but Linza saw an edge of smugness in her eye. She plucked a grape from the bowl and offered it to him. “Give it a try?”

He shrugged and popped the grape into his mouth.

He nearly fell over. 

Linza now appreciated why he was naked. Never had she seen a shaft swell to such an insistent throbbing so quickly.

He caught himself on the edge of the table “H-holy shit…”

Primmen turned to the classroom. “And thus is the power of a welcome Suggestion. It can speak directly to the unconscious and create effects that stun the conscious mind, even though it is the same body that creates both the effect and the feeling of surprise.”

“C-can I have another one?” he asked.

“Of course.” She didn’t move the bowl, which was now on the opposite side of the table as Victor. “Just come and get them.”

He pushed himself up and shuffled over to the side of the table with the bowl, legs shaking. With trembling hands, he plucked a handful of grapes and shoved them all in his mouth at once.

That time, he did collapse. He melted to the floor in a heaving moan, hand finding his shaft immediately as he started to masturbate.

Linza shifted to the edge of her seat, partly to see better and partly for how the seat’s edge pressed against her vulva, giving her some of the sensation that she herself now craved.

“Holy shit,” Victor gasped, “I’ve never felt so fucking turned on in— nnngh… in my whole life…”

Linza glanced around the room and was gratified to find that she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat—other audience members were gawking and flushed. Tanyth was still wearing their same outfit as before, including the lack of underwear. Linza surmised as much when the tip of Tanyth’s erection peeked out from under the edge of their skirt. They had a more placid demeanor than her, content to watch the show. Perhaps it was because they’d already orgasmed four times that day.

Victor’s moaning escalated.

“Remember,” Primmen said, “You won’t be able to orgasm until you finish your snack.”

Victor gasped and opened his eyes, looking up at the table above him and the bowl there. “C-can you…”

“You seem perfectly capable,” she said. “All you have to do is reach up and get them. Nothing’s stopping you.”

“B-but then I’d have to…”

“… you’d have to what?” The corners of Primmen’s lips twitched upward.

“To s-stop…” Victor’s face was a picture of desperation.

“To stop what?” Primmen’s lips pressed into a satisfied grin.

“T-to stop touching myself!”

Primmen’d voice was practically predatory as she purred, “Well, you can do that, can’t you?”

“No!” he moaned. “I c-can’t stop, I c-can’t fucking stop!” He stroked harder, but this only seemed to intensify his predicament as it brought him closer to the edge that he couldn’t reach.

Primmen’s smug control of the situation was nearly as arousing to Linza as Victor’s desperate arousal. The combination of the two had Linza’s blood boiling.

“You really can’t stop?” Primmen crooned.

“I swear, I’m t-trying, I’m really trying but…”

Why can’t you stop?”

“It feels too good… it feels… fuck, it feels amazing… ngh those grapes are, I can’t stop, they’re strong, I…”

Primmen leaned over and picked up the bunch from the bowl. “I suppose I can help you, then.”

She came around and stood behind him, so that he was between her and the audience. She plucked a grape from the bunch and fed it to him.

Victor moaned as if he’d just started masturbating after a long denial.

She fed him another, and clear pre-cum started to run over his tip.

Then she plucked a third, but regarded it. “Hmmm, this does look delicious. I might like one too. But then, if I eat it… could that mean you might never be able to come until the spell runs out?” Primmen’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a carefully crafted cruelty. Linza noted that exact expression, the mix of keen awareness and apparent indifference, to use in her illusions later. And in her own personal fantasies.

“No!” Victor gasped. “No, please, please, I need them, I need to come, I need to cum so bad…”

“Actually, nobody’s ever died from lack of orgasm.” Primmen pressed the grape against her closed lips, as if to ponder her decision.

Victor writhed, eyes going wide with desperation, but he couldn’t break his hands away from his cock. “I want to! I want tooo… please…”

She gave him the grape and he nearly swallowed it whole. That got him halfway through the bunch.

Linza was not sure that she herself would last through the rest of the bunch.

And so Primmen continued until Victor couldn’t even beg anymore, couldn’t even speak. All he could do was moan and gasp and whimper and stroke himself.

So, he didn’t notice as Primmen silently showed the audience that she was down to the last grape. She fed that to him, and Linza held her breath, waiting.

But nothing changed, yet. Had that part of the spell not worked?

Primmen winked at them, then said, “Victor, Victor look.”

Victor’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up and back at Primmen. He saw the empty stem.

It was like a jolt of electricity went through him. “Is that… did I… is that all of them?”

“It is all of them, Victor.” Primmen’s voice was a purr, her grin like a cat’s.

His breath was heaving, his body tense. “It’s… oh fuck… oh holy fuck… oh I can feel it coming… it’s coming, I’m, I’m—”

Linza had never seen a man cum so hard. He sprayed hard, multiple times, and then his cum flowed thick and white over his tip. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop as he moaned and moaned, more and more flowing out over his hand in waves. Finally, the ejaculate ran thinner and clearer. Victor mustered a groan and then collapsed back onto the floor.

Linza shook on the edge of her seat, desperately wishing it would be enough sensation to bring her to her own climax, but knowing that it would not be. She was dizzy, hot, over-aroused and under-stimulated.

Victor drew a deep breath and then heaved a sigh. “By the queen’s tits, Primmen, you really outdid yourself this time.”

Primmen smiled that predatory smile. “Thank you very much for your enthusiastic participation, Victor. Now, there are a few things I’d like to point out.” Primmen turned to the audience, immediately back in an academic tone. “Most importantly, notice how the last grape had no actual effect in and of itself. It was the idea of the last grape, and Victor needed to notice that it was the last grape, for the effect to be felt. It was purely psychological, though as I’m sure Victor will be happy to report, no less visceral than had it been physical.”

Victor nodded blearily. “It felt very… visceral…”

And with Victor still there on the floor, dazed and absolutely covered in cum, Primmen casually continued her lecture.

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—”


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.

Part 2: Training, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 13: Have Fun

It was the last day before the weekend, when Linza could have two uninterrupted days of training with her illusion magic. 

Her slow job was even slower on the last day of the week. A lot of the senior alchemists liked to take long lunches. They didn’t start experiments on the last day of the week, so there were no reagents to weigh. Usually, Linza just stayed available to clean whatever they used that day and then she was free to go.

So, she had given herself over completely to her fantasies.

She sat at a small desk in the basement of the laboratory, where the washing basins were, day dreaming so fervently that her heart was pounding.

Wait, was it her heart or was it footsteps on the stairs?

She bolted upright just as one of the senior alchemists, Nanar, came down the last of the stairs. He looked a bit startled that she was already making eye contact with him. But, fortunately for her, alchemists did not tend to be the most socially apt bunch and she was sure he wouldn’t say anything.

She swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth. “What’s up?”

“I hate to ask you this on the last day of the week, but Borin’s already gone for the day and I just need someone to double-check my math.”

“Oh! Of course! Happy to.”

Nanar stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs.

“If it’s alright, I’ll follow you up in a moment, I just need to finish this inventory real quick before I lose count.”

“Of course! Yeah, no hurry. Any time in the next hour is great.”

“Great! See you soon.”

Nanar clomped up the stairs.

Linza groaned and bumped her fist against her forehead. Stupid, stupid! There was no way she could do math like this. And there’s no way that she could cum at work, either! She was between a rock and a hard place. Well, a wet place.

Though, the staff washroom on this floor was relatively quiet… she was the only junior in the office and Nanar was unlikely to come back down…

Linza scurried through the shelves of cleaned cauldrons and sorted reagents, around the corner, and to the washroom. 

There was just the one toilet room, which she’d cursed on previous days when more juniors had been in and she’d been forced to wait. It worked to her advantage, now. As she slipped inside and slid the lock shut, she was quite sure she would be alone.

Linza leaned back against the wall and pulled up her skirt. Then, she hesitated. Was she really about to do this?

Her sex throbbed, demanding.

Yes, she was definitely doing this.

She slipped down her panties and left them on just one ankle as she turned her other leg aside and sunk her fingers into her vulva.

Linza nearly fell over, the pleasure was so intense.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan. Half of her was sure nobody would hear her anyway. The rest of her was sure that if she started moaning, she wouldn’t stop, and she didn’t want to risk it.

So she gasped and quivered.

Tempted as she was to sink back into her fantasies and enjoy herself, she did not have quite enough time for that. This needed to be like the break room at her night job. Quick and to-the-point.

Fortunately, Linza had been fantasizing with abandon all morning, and she had more than enough arousal built up. Already, her fingers were sparking pre-orgasmic waves of heat.

It seemed a bit of a shame to burn it all so quickly like this. But also hot

She just couldn’t help it. 

Here she was, masturbating feverishly in the basement of an alchemy lab.

Because she was such a thirsty slut.

That thought tipped Linza hurtling over the edge and she twisted, leaning heavily into the wall with her shoulder, not daring to breathe lest she scream. It felt so good.

Wave after wave of ecstasy trembled through her, all the anticipation of her fantasies pouring out. This was a kind of alchemy, a transformation of the pleasure of anticipation to the pleasure of release. From the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, her entire body tingled with electric pleasure. 

Finally, she was done.

As she washed her hands in the basin, she could think again. She splashed water over her face and neck, dabbing herself off with a towel, feeling refreshed. She also wiped up the dampness from between her legs and from her vulva. Washing the towels was also part of her job description, so no one would be any the wiser.

The only thing she wasn’t quite sure of was what to do with her panties, which she’d left on her ankle. They were now cold and wet and smelled of her arousal.

She’d opted for a wool skirt that day, which was nearly floor length. And hadn’t she read that women didn’t used to wear any underwear at all?

So, she wrapped the panties in the towel and tucked them underneath her desk. She then bounded up the stairs taking them two at a time, quite looking forward to the task that awaited her.

And the way that her skirt moved over her bare hips and ass excited her. It was an exhilerating secreet, along with what she’d just done. Well, they’d be secrets until she told Wyn, anyway.

She was starting to understand rule number three.

Have fun.

Part 2: Training, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 11: The Break Room

After a week, Linza felt like she and Tanyth were already old friends.

It was time to start the next part of her job training.

The sex part.

Linza had expected her shyness to come screaming back, but all it managed was a meek ‘peep’. She felt totally comfortable with Tanyth and totally comfortable in the little room.

They walked her through setting up the room in the default configuration. Then, they kneeled across from each other on the bamboo mat.

“Alright, so,” Tanyth started. “Part of this job is that a lot of people are going to masturbate in front of you. Like you said, variety is the spice of life. Some moments can feel strange, or unfamiliar, or even just silly. We want all of our guests to feel welcomed, and unjudged.”

Linza nodded. “Of course!”

“So, the next step is exposure training. Part of it is about desensitization to any of the things that might make you want to snort or giggle or hide. Part of it is also about learning different kinds of rhythms, observing different kinds of masturbation. There’s as many different kinds as there are people.”

“Makes sense.”

“The way this works is that we’ve marked this room as one of the break rooms for staff. They’ll know you’re in here. Some might introduce themselves, others might not. They all know the drill, so you’re welcome to giggle or gasp or laugh and not worry about your own noises.”

“My own noises?”

“When you masturbate.”

“Oh!” Of course. But also, oh my.

Tanyth quirked a grin. “I’d buy you a bottle of really nice wine if you managed to make it through a shift in the break room without touching yourself.”

A wave of heat rolled down Linza’s spine. She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You’re saying that because I told you I liked denial, aren’t you!”

They shrugged. “Do you want the wager or not?”

“I’ll take it,” she said firmly. She’d spent whole days at work fantasizing without cracking. She was pretty sure she could handle it. And if there was any day she could, it would be this first day, where so much was unfamiliar.

“All right! We’re almost ready, then. Let’s see… oh, feel free to step out back if you ever need to. Sometimes the experience can be surprisingly emotional. That’s normal too. My shift tonight is tending bar, so you’re free to come by later if you want to talk.”

Linza nodded. She was quite sure she’d be fine, but she truly did appreciate all of the considerations. This is what she’d signed up for, after all. People masturbating in front of her. Eventually, masturbating to her. She was excited!

“Alright, let’s get you situated then.” Tanyth got up and Linza followed, stepping around the half-folded room divider and into her half of the room.

Tanyth stayed on the other side. “You’ve got a little handle, just there… yup. Just pull that over and it’ll latch into place.”

“You’re leaving that way?”

“Well, I’m not leaving quite yet.”

Linza had never heard Tanyth sound directly flirtatious before. Her heart wobbled up into her throat. She fumbled with the latch, but did eventually get it clasped.

With the screen drawn tight, it looked like a solid part of the wall, except for the little grate in the middle that let her look into the larger side of the room.

Her side was dark, so that she was hidden.

Sound would pass easily between them.

She held her breath.

They turned back to the little grate, eyes in her direction, though she knew they could not see her. “Oh, I did mean to double check with you. Is this alright? I can always go—”

“Totally alright. Great. Good. I’ll be most comfortable if it’s you, first.” Linza had not once considered, through Tanyth’s entire explanation, that they might be one of the ones to masturbate in front of her. ‘Comfortable’ was perhaps a lie, but ‘eager’ would be accurate.

They grinned brightly at her. “Great! I’m glad to hear it. I’m feeling pent up something fierce, though I can’t quite place why…” Tanyth casually unbuttoned their shirt, revealing their flat chest.

They started to unbutton their wide-legged trousers.

Linza’s heart raced. She didn’t care at all what anatomy they had, except that whatever it was, she wanted her mouth on it or in it. 

She had thought she’d gotten a handle on her affections for Tanyth.

She had been very wrong.

Their pants slid down over their slender hips and pooled in the center of the floor.

They stood before her, totally naked.

Their skin was smooth and hairless, their waist nipped in with a feminine hint, and their erection pulsed and begged for touch.

Discussions of word choice returned to Linza’s mind. She could hardly call what Tanyth had a ‘cock’ or a ‘dick’. Those words were too rough for them. ‘Shaft’, perhaps. Or simply ‘penis’, as necessary.

Linza’s mind wandered over the meandering flow of Tanyth’s gender expression. As with any part of Tanyth’s body and manners, Linza knew that their shaft would be as masculine or as feminine as they wanted it to be.

Not even bothering to sit down, Tanyth started to stroke themselves.

Linza edged closer to the grate, still barely breathing.

Tanyth’s first happy moan was like a spark on dry kindling.

Linza’s whole body flared with desire and she became very uncertain whether she would earn her bottle of wine. 

There was a shallow shelf on the wall by the door, and Tanyth had left a jar open there. All the jars were lubricant, and there were a variety of flavors and scents. That one was jasmine. Linza had thought Tanyth had left it open for its fragrance, but the reason was now clear.

They paused their stroking and dipped their fingers into the clear liquid. It dripped in long strings as Tanyth returned their hand to themselves.

Then they moaned in earnest and Linza nearly fainted.

The one mercy of the whole thing was that it seemed like Tanyth wasn’t trying to take too long. They had their shift to get too, after all.

Linza pressed her fingertips against the screen and the tip of her nose against the grate, captivated. Capturing every detail. Remembering.

The way their face fluttered with pleasure. Their tongue between their lips. The swanlike curve of their back as they braced one hand against the wall and leaned heavily into it. Their rising urgency.

Every gasp. Every moan. Every stutter.

She wanted to pull every one of those noises from them, and then more.

The sound of their blooming climax was the high-pitched sigh of a luxuriant stretch.

Their cum spurted out onto the wall and then dribbled down over their hand. And then more. And then more.

It was more cum than Linza had ever seen at once. But it did not seem to be a supernatural amount. She just became even less impressed with her previous lovers who’d had similar hardware.

And all the more enamored with Tanyth.

They heaved a happy sigh and picked up a clean wash cloth from the stack. They wiped themselves down, then the wall, then dropped the cloth in a bin by the door.

Tanyth put their hand to the door, then turned back and waved. “Remember, come down any time!” They gave her a sunny smile as if they had not just worked themselves to powerful orgasm in front of her, and then left.

Linza sunk down to her knees. Her whole body was trembling.

Good gods she was so turned on.

She was hardly afforded any time to think, however, as the door swung open again.

She scrambled back up to peer through the grate. There was a stool behind her for such a purpose, and she pulled it up so that she could sit and still see who had arrived.

This was a woman, plump and curvaceous, with her hand already down the front of her trousers.

“H-hi! I’m s-sorry I usually properly introduce myself first, but… nnnnngh… fuck.”

The woman leaned back into the wall of the room and slid down to the floor with a plop. Her hand stayed buried in her trousers all the while. She was panting heavily, her breasts bouncing on her chest.

“It’s just my favorite patron visited today and he always gets me so… so… Ah, Aaaaah!” Barely thirty seconds after entering the room, the woman heaved her head back against the wall and climaxed.

Linza expected her to leave then, but it seemed that she was only getting started.

The woman bit her lip and squirmed and panted. She massaged her breasts and pinched her own nipples from the outside of her shirt.

Linza tried to take mental notes. But she was too aroused to think clearly and too curious to sink fully into her own arousal, so she just rocked her vulva against the stool and gasped quietly. The woman worked herself to a second, then a third orgasm. She sighed, stretched, toweled herself off, and left.

She’d never said her name.

Not that Linza would be remembering any names like this.

There was a man with tattoos, then a woman with white hair. Then a man and a woman together, and he fucked her into the ground as she sang with ecstasy.

She did see a few things that had surprised her.

There was a man who seemed to have orgasmed multiple times, if his face and voice were to be trusted, but he hadn’t ejaculated at all.

And then there was a woman who had ejaculated quite forcefully, sending a spray and then subsequent drip of clear fluid onto the floor below her.

Some masturbated slowly, some quickly. Some orgasmed powerfully, some hardly seemed to at all.

She had not realized just how right she had been. Variety truly was the spice of life.

And Tanyth had been right to call her ‘pansexual’. There was not one single body, one single face of pleasure, one gasp or moan of delight, that did not wrack her whole body with arousal.

Linza could hardly even remember anymore why she wasn’t touching herself, why she wasn’t cumming with them, except that Tanyth didn’t want her to.

For Tanyth, she waited.

For Tanyth, she trembled against the screen, sweating and gasping, rocking herself against the stool until she edged and edged and edged but never climaxed.

She hardly noticed that it had been an especially long time since the last person had come in, except that the door startled her when it swung open.

It was Tanyth!

“Just finished my shift,” they said. “You still in here?”

“Yes,” Linza gasped.

“Nicely done! If you want to pull open the screen, I’ll help clean up.”

All Linza could think was that she wanted them to clean her up. Trembling, she stood and unlatched the screen.

Tanyth swept it easily aside, revealing her quivering there.

Their face was suddenly uncertain. “Are you alright?”

“I, um… I didn’t…” Linza had never felt this dizzyingly aroused in her life.

Tanyth caught her by the elbow and found her eyes. “You didn’t cum, this whole time?”

Linza nodded, eagerly.

“Holy shit Linza, just for our bet?”

No, for Tanyth… oh, the bet! The wine! Right. It had just been a bet. “Y-yeah.”

“Well fuck me, I’d have just bought it for you if you wanted it so badly.”

She would have happily fucked them. “I’m… competitive.”

“Well, I can’t let you out of here like this. Do you want me to step outside, watch your, or touch you?”

While Linza’s conscious mind was still trying to make sense of Tanyth’s words, Linza’s unconscious responded confidently. “Touch me!”

Tanyth took Linza’s hands and pulled her gently onto the bamboo mat, then hovered over her with a soft smile.

First, they pressed their hand over her panties and her mound. “Fuck, you’re soaked!”

All Linza could do was nod.

Their hands were cool and soothing where they brushed over Linza’s skin and helped her wriggle out of the panties and kick them to her ankles.

Then, their fingers returned to her.

All the anticipation and wanting turned into pleasure in Tanyth’s hands. They were an alchemist of the highest degree.

“How’s that?” Their fingers ran circles over her vulva.


“Do you want…” the fingers of their other hand brushed deeper between Linza’s labia, at the entrance to her vagina.

“Yes, please, please inside!”

Two of Tanyth’s fingers pressed in and Linza screamed with ecstasy. They easily found her spot of especial pleasure and pressed in a regular rhythm.

“Fuck!” Linza gasped. “Yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Just stay… exactly like that…”

Tanyth obliged.

Linza’s heat built. She clenched her sex around Tanyth’s fingers and as she did, Tanyth pressed back against her. Linza moaned.

She let her mind sink back into fantasy. The memory of Tanyth’s cum, on the wall and dripping over their fingers, played slowly in Linza’s mind.

Her breath heaved in ragged gasps. “T-Tanyth, you’re gonna make me, you’re gonna make me— Aaaah!”

The climax overtook her in slow, heavy pulses. Tanyth continued their exact movements even as she writhed and shook and clenched. They did not slow or stop until Linza started to quiver with sensitivity and placed her hand over theirs.

They grinned down at her and withdrew their hands, then licked her wetness off of them.

Linza nearly came again just at the sight of it, but she was happy to be done shaking.

“I apologize that I let us make a bet with too low a wager,” Tanyth said. “Does that plus the wine seem adequate?”

Linza nodded dreamily. “Yes, very… adequate…”

Tanyth placed a calming hand on Linza’s chest. “You just stay there and recover. I’ll clean up, then I’ll walk you to the trolley. How’s that sound?”

Linza had meant to say ‘that’s perfect’ but instead she said, “You’re perfect…”

Tanyth giggled and winked. “You flatter me. You’re a quick learner, though. I’m sure you’ll surpass me in no time.”

Linza was a quick learner, but it took her three more nights to confirm the lesson that had glowed within her that night. As with her employment, she slept on it. Then she slept on it again. And one more time.

And then she was certain.

She was in love with Tanyth.

Part 2: Training, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 8: The Room

The room was just as Wyn had described. The screen that split the two parts was folded partially back.

There was another door on the parallel wall and opposite corner, which was much more ornate. That would be where the esteemed guest entered.

The guest’s side of the room was decorated with a little nondescript shrine. There were two cairns of stones and a magical trickle of water flowed down each one, filling the room with the soft sound.

The staff side of the room had a shelf of cubbies which were full of candles, incense, glass jars, and all manner of other accessories. There was a default setup, of course, but each esteemed guest could request customizations that were arranged for them before their arrival. There was no bed in this room, just a segmented bamboo mat rolled out across the floor.

The light was dim and orange. Cozy. A clearly labeled cluster of levers on the wall controlled the color and amount of light by sliding various filters over the source.

Linza took a moment to slide all of them back, curious about both the mechanisms and the source of light. The brightness of the light was nearly blinding. She confirmed that the source was a perfectly round gem, radiating a steady light from its core. The magic could only be wrought in a flawless gem, but once it was it would shine eternally.

Linza was so overwhelmed by taking in even the small room that it was a long few minutes before she noticed the piece of parchment in the middle of the bamboo mat on the floor. It was folded into a tent with her name in curling script on the front.

She picked it up and on the inside was a letter.


My name is Tanyth (they/them pronouns, please) and I will be helping you get acquainted with the house. I know it’s a bit odd to leave you just a note, but if you’re anything like me, you’re feeling totally overwhelmed at the moment.

Your first goal is to simply keep coming to this room — and, if you’d like, IN this room 😉 — every night until you no longer feel nervous to be here. It may take a long time, or no time at all. When you’re ready, you may deliver a letter addressed to me to the madame’s assistant. I’ll then be waiting to meet you the following night.

Best wishes,


Linza’s heart was beating in her throat. She was already eager to meet Tanyth! Such beautiful writing could only come from beautiful hands, she was sure.

But, she was sure it was the same as when the madame had insisted that she spend a night considering her terms of employment.

As eager as she was, she appreciated Tanyth’s thoughtfulness.

Yet, how in the world was she supposed to not feel nervous? 

Her eyes darted back to the winking face in the letter.

She could do as they’d suggested… though, was she really so bold? But, why not? That was the whole point of the place, wasn’t it?

Yet, she’d never been here before. That could be worrying… or exciting.

Linza checked the doors. Both locked with a bolt. Some small magics could open simple locks like this, but she expected that was by design. The locks were meant to prevent accidental entry, not all entry. That would be necessary for the safety of the staff.

That thought sparked a little flicker of anxiety. Just how dangerous could this line of work be? The terms of employment had talked at great length about security and safety measures. Should she be worried?

Then again, the professors who gave the longest lectures on safety always had the fewest accidents in their laboratories. She expected that the same principal applied here.

And, she understood Tanyth’s advice. She was feeling overwhelmed. She agreed that she’d learn little until her nerves abated.

So, Linza settled in. She took six candles and arranged them in a ring, then lay a stick of incense on a tray between them. She lit each of them with a brief arcane chant and a snap of her fingers. She stretched out on the bamboo mat and let her whole body relax for a few minutes. Then, she sat up and pressed her feet together and practiced the gestures for her favorite spells, which was as meditation for her.

As her hands traced the shape of the spell for a minor illusion, her memory wandered back to her activities of the previous night.

Arousal rushed over her like heat billowing out of a cracked oven.

She could do that again. Or, she could do something different.

She traced the shape and the crystal at her throat hummed.

A visceral moan unfolded in the air around her. Then, another.

A shiver ran down her spine and pooled between her legs, a quivering tingle in her sex.

She thought of the way that the madame’s assistant had smelled. The way that she might fold into his field of stars. It felt a little bit naughty, to indulge in that. Like Wyn had said, a little bit like lusting after a professor. Might she, like Wyn had imagined, be able to learn from him? From the madame herself?

Linza was sure she could not imagine what they would teach her.

The luxuriant moaning that she had summoned brought her back to awareness of her body. She flicked her fingers to renew the spell, and it continued.

Her sex ached, but she did not yet touch herself.

Her breathing quickened, her blood ran hot.

And Tanyth, what were they like? What would they teach her? Were there any staff here that would not make her into a blushing, stuttering mess?

She undressed all the way. Her flicker of shyness died in the wake of the next illusory moan.

If she could be naked here, masturbate here, that would go a long way towards making her feel more comfortable.

She lay back on the bamboo mat, the panels smooth against her skin. She stretched and felt the ridges all along her spine, her arms, her ass, her calves. The room was the perfect temperature to lay like this.

Soaking in the needy, visceral moans of her illusion.

She plunged her fingers into the depths of her arousal and nearly screamed with delight. She had stopped herself, because she thought she might be heard.

But, wasn’t the point to be heard? To make herself as comfortable as possible? To be as shamelessly vocal as the sounds of pleasure she so often summoned for herself?

Linza withdrew her fingers, letting the anticipation build. She waited until her legs were trembling and her sex was clenching and her breath was shaking.

As she touched herself again, she moaned. The sound started at the very depth of her arousal and vibrated inside of her before escaping from her throat. It was as if she were a lute and her fingers plucked the strings of her pleasure.

She played her favorite song all the way up to the crescendo.

Just before the crest, she stopped.

Linza gasped and growled. Why was she torturing herself like this?

It was because the next time her fingers touched her folds, they felt so good. Every time she edged herself, her pleasure redoubled.

After the fourth time, she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted, needed, craved the climax. She was quivering and begging for relief.

This time her fingers did not stop and this time the song swelled to its final crescendo, a scream of abject pleasure.

Linza moaned as the aftershocks coursed through her. The illusory moaning quieted. Her breathing slowed. The candles burned softly next to her.

Linza had not meant to fall asleep there in the little room. But, she had been so thoroughly relaxed, so totally comfortable, that she drifted right off into dreams of suns enveloping moons.

Linza awoke in the dim light of the little room, sure that it was a bit late in the night to be walking home by herself, but also optimistic that she might be able to find some other employee recently off shift that might walk with her.

She wiped herself with a towel from a cubby and cleaned the room as best she could. If she’d interpreted Tanyth’s letter correctly, this room was set aside for her training and so she didn’t need to worry too much about protocol just yet.

She dressed without hurry and opened the door.

The bright sun of late morning crackled in her eyes.

She was going to be so late for work!

She collected herself as best she could and listened for music. True to the assistant’s word, this brought her back to the main street and she hurried towards the exit of the estate and the trolley stop out front.

Linza swore as she waited for the trolley to arrive, then cursed at its slow progress, then muttered hexes towards herself as she jogged the last few blocks to the laboratory.

She took a deep breath and stepped inside, trying to look nonchalant. She’d prepared a fib about getting on the trolley going the wrong way that she hoped would be convincing.

Linza was soothed and yet perturbed to find that nobody had noticed. She spent the rest of the day kicking herself for kicking herself and also debating whether she was ready to meet Tanyth.

She finally decided that the curiosity was going to make her nervous in its own way. She’d write her letter that night, deliver it on her way to the room, spend just the evening there this time, and then meet them the following night.

Linza did as she had planned. That night, she bought dinner at the estate, tiny pastries of roasted vegetables and meats. The smell of it filled the little room and intensified the flavor.

Given her day’s rough start and her wariness to lose track of time again, she simply ate, burned a single stick of incense, and then left.

She hadn’t spotted the madame’s assistant on the way in, and so she wandered the estate for a bit with her letter addressed to Tanyth.

However, she became distracted and stopped to listen to a bard play a sonata on a massive harp.

“How are you finding everything?” The assistant was suddenly standing directly next to her.

Linza nearly jumped out of her skin. “Oh, I was looking for you!”

He looked down at her with his knowing, noticing eyes, as if to say I know

She gulped and handed him the letter. “I-It’s for Tanyth.”

He nodded. “They will receive it tonight.”

Unsure of what to do with the intensity of his gaze, her eyes flitted back to the bard. She searched for something to say. “Do you think they—”

But as she turned, she found that the assistant was already gone.

Part 1: The Premise, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 6: Damp

Linza had awoken to realize that the terms of her employment were in total disarray. More than a few pages had become wrinkled and smudged by sweat and other secretions. One was torn where it had been caught under an elbow and most were at least slightly crumpled.

Linza had carefully reassembled the sheaf. The most crucial piece, the piece that she was to sign, was nowhere to be found.

After much frantic searching, they had realized that it was plastered to Wyn’s ass and more than a little bit smudged.

Finally, the sheaf was whole again, but looked as blissily bedraggled as Linza and Wyn themselves felt. As Linza washed, Wyn offered that she borrow one of Wyn’s dresses so that she didn’t have to wear the same outfit twice.

Linza weighed the relative embarrassment of showing up in the same clothes as yesterday versus Wyn’s flamboyant fashion sense. The woman did not own a single article of clothing with anything less than four colors. Linza’s coworkers barely noticed her and she liked it that way, so she opted to re-dress in her clothes from the previous day and then she hurried to catch the trolley to work.

She was grateful, for the first time, that her day job was so monotonous.

As she weighed, she pondered. As she scrubbed, she fantasized.

She was glad that nobody came to ask her to proof an equation, because she would have struggled with even the most simple algebra. Her mind was as hazy as if she’d spent the whole day smoking herb.

By lunch, her sex was throbbing insistently.

By the time her work day ended, her panties were soaked through.

She hoped to finally sign her terms of employment and drop them off at the pleasure house on her way home. However, she found that the sheaf had not fared well in her bag all day. Several of the pages were stuck together with dampness and the crucial signature page was still too wet to take fresh ink.

Linza sighed, packing her bag back up. She’d have to head home after all, and drop them off the following night.

As she stepped aboard the trolley, she wondered if any of the other passengers caught the conspicuous scent of sweat from her bag.

The main way around the city was by trolley, and the cobblestone streets were criss-crossed with tracks. A decade prior there had been a massive project — largely sponsored by JSMI — to convert the trolleys from horse-drawn to electric. There was now a network of cables running over the trolley lines, the electricity supplied by massive steam engines and generators in the warehouse district.

In the richer parts of town there were still plenty of carriages. Here there were only a couple. Most of the horses out and about were community watch. One of Linza’s favorite games as she rode the trolley home was to try and spot all of them. They were old and steady folks who rode old and steady horses, gently touring the neighborhood streets from their vantage points. They were always happy to offer directions or advice to residents and visitors alike, and they helped keep mischief at a minimum by dutifully reporting back to children’s parents if they’d been misbehaving.

As the trolley rattled on, there were fewer and fewer carriages and the buildings cramped in tighter, pressing themselves into smaller and smaller spaces. Finally, the trolley trundled up to her stop.

Linza waved at a little grey woman on her little grey horse, Ezra and Carrots respectively, but she ducked inside before Ezra could come over to chat. Linza was fond of her, especially since Linza had no other family nearby, but she wasn’t quite in the mood for a chat.

Her apartment was small but cozy, up on the sixth floor of a building with no mechanical lift. As convenient as a lift would have been, it would have meant that she’d pay ten percent more in rent. So, as it were, she tried to appreciate the exercise.

There were really only two rooms in the apartment. There was her bedroom and then the everything else room. The washroom was as small as it could possibly be, but at least she had her own. She’d had to share a communal washroom with other students all four years as JSMI. Being able to go barefoot in the shower and not having to carry her soap back and forth every day were small luxuries that she did not take for granted.

In the main room, there was a tiny stove, sink, and counter in one corner. Next to that was her desk which doubled as her dining table, and in the opposite corner was a hand-me-down wing back chair from Wyn and a large bookcase that was full and overflowing. On the wall next to it was a row of tiny shelves which hosted a menagerie of little stone figurines. There were snakes and horses and dragons and boats and landscapes and more, in veined marble and mottled granite, all polished to a shine. 

Some of the little stone figures looked as if they’d been whittled from wood — because they had been. Alchemy was the domain of transmutations of all kinds. With just time and focus, Linza could transmute wood, stone, iron, copper, or silver temporarily to another of those materials. One of her favorite hobbies was to get chunks of scrap marble and granite from the stone cutters that prepared it for use in establishments like JSMI, turn them into wood, and then make little figurines.

The level of quality of the figurines on the shelf was quite broad. She’d kept some of her earlier ones which were quite sloppy, partly because they would make poor gifts and partly to remind her how far she’d come.

If she spent an evening at home, usually she’d curl up in the wingback chair and read a book or work on a figurine. 

This night, she started by drawing her laundry line across from its reel by the stove over to the wall with the window. She carefully peeled apart the pages and clipped them up to dry.

Then, she sat at her desk.

Linza dug a fresh notebook out of the bottom of her desk drawer, pressed it open in front of her, and touched her quill to the blank page.

She wrote and wrote and wrote of everything she had imagined that day. When she finally put the quill down, caving to the cramp in her hand and not any end to her flow of ideas, the chair underneath her was notably damp.

Linza checked the clock. It was several hours past midnight! She should have already been long asleep. She hadn’t eaten dinner!

But, there was only one desire in her mind.

She pulled her skirt up and pressed her hand up under the damp cloth of her panties and into the heat of her folds.

It felt so good. Her inner labia were so soft, so swollen. She had really outdone herself this time.

A full day’s worth of arousal quivered underneath her fingers.

She worked herself in circles, collapsing against the desk with a gasp and propping her head with her hand.

Even her mouth watered, though at nothing in particular.

She was tempted to summon a phantasm for herself, but she was unsure of how long it would last. She hadn’t quite gotten a full night’s sleep the day prior, so her capacity for the larger magics may have been exhausted anyway.

Had Linza been anything less than a panting, lust-drunk puddle, she could have easily determined her remaining magical capacity.

As it was, she figured it was best to stick with a cantrip. They were small magic, manipulations of latent energy. They required much more practice to learn than other incantations, but they did not require any of the caster’s own energies as catalyst.

Linza knew exactly what she wanted. Her trembling hand worked through the signs that were as second-nature as writing and the crystal at her throat vibrated again.

The sound of Wyn’s orgasmic scream, shaped from Linza’s memory, filled the little room. It repeated, over and over and over again, interspersed with panting moans. As long as Linza could raise a hand every minute or so to trace the gestures again, the sound would never end.

This was one of the reasons that Linza had paid such fierce attention to their climax together. This memory was fresh and sharp and real.

Linza’s body trembled like a string on a lute between her elbow pressed against the table and the seat in the chair.

And then, in ecstatic crescendo, she sang.

This climax was, somehow, even more incredible than her one the previous night. Slow. Languid. Lingering. Her muscles squeezed, like gentle hands rhythmically wringing out every last drop of pleasure. She had soaked herself in arousal the whole day and there was very, very much to release.

Finally, Linza’s head sank flat on the desk, the wood warm against her cheek.

Her hand had stilled, but was pressed against her mound to capture those last lingering whispers of pleasure. She loved the way her skin felt against her skin in the afterglow.

She fell asleep there, against the desk, for a few minutes. Then she stirred and heaved herself with a sigh into her bed, not even bothering to undress.

Gods, that was the best fuck she’d had in ages.

Nobody knew Linza quite like she knew herself. It was one of the reasons that she and Wyn were friends and not lovers. In one of Wyn’s most profound generosities, it was her cajoling that had finally prompted Linza to learn how to treat herself. And it was Linza learning how to treat herself, and finding that she generally preferred to be alone in her pleasure, that had ended the ‘relationship’ part of their relationship.

That she and Wyn could ‘see’ each other, as the madame had described, was why they were still dear friends.

And Linza was quite content with that.

That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t a romantic. Sure, she fantasized about rose petals and passionate sex, whispered conversations and sweet nothings.

But the great part about fantasizing was that it didn’t come with any of the messiness of real-life romance.

To Linza, it just didn’t seem worth all the fuss.


The Horny Sorority Ghost (Part II)

Continued from Part I

Eddie whizzed over the back wall of the house’s property to the basement of a neighboring building. She couldn’t remember ever moving so fast, or it ever being so easy for her to pass over the threshold. Usually, it cost a ghost a bit of energy to leave their haunt. Now, apparently she had energy to spare.

The ghost that haunted the basement was a cranky old poltergeist who Eddie called ‘Mister’ because he had forgotten his name. Mister had been haunting the area since long before the building had been constructed. As best as Eddie could tell from Mister’s fragmented rambling, Mister had fallen down a well nearly a thousand years ago and had moved as little as possible since then.

Eddie spiraled down through the cool stones and into the basement, startling Mister from his favorite hobby of staring at the walls and waiting for time to pass.

She said, “You will not believe what just happened to me!”

Mister grumbled. “Well, hello to you too, Edith.”

“I go by Eddie, now.”

“Like a little current that curls back on itself, causing a lot of fuss and never going anywhere? Fitting.”

“No! Like— well, whatever. I need you to tell me if you know of anything like this.” Eddie recounted her night’s experience.

Mister looked bored the entire time. As Eddie finished, Mister said nothing.

“Well?” she asked.

Mister scowled. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“No, I mean— what do you have to say?!”

“Hm. You’re done?”

“Yes!” Eddie was desperate for information. And getting any specific kind of information from Mister was always pulling teeth. 

“I thought you were going to tell me something I wouldn’t believe. Instead, you’ve just explained the basics of energy transfer.”

“The what of what now?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Obviously not! Mister, everything I know about being a ghost I learned from you. How could I know anything about it if you haven’t told me about it before?”

“Well, that’s a good point.”

Eddie groaned. Just because Mister was very old and knew a lot did not mean he was wise. “Can you please explain to me what this energy transfer is?”

Mister explained that when ghosts were first formed, they all started off basically the same. But then based off of what they did, how they interacted with the living world, they would accumulate certain energies. A ghost with no energy left at all would fade from existence. A ghost that collected enough of a certain type of energy would manifest. Succubi and incubi, vampires, poltergeists, many kinds of demons, sprites and spirits, all started off as ghosts.

As Mister finished his explanation, he remarked, “I’d wondered why you were taking so long deciding what kind of ghost you wanted to become.”

Eddie sputtered, her curiosity fighting with her annoyance. She calmed herself as best she could. “Mister, let me get one thing clear. You waited… one hundred and fifty years… to tell me not only that I could die again but also that there are different kinds of ghosts?

Mister shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. I thought you knew.”

Eddie sighed and put her head in her hands. If she pressed Mister further, he might not tell her anything else. Better to stick with curiosity and then go yell her frustration into the night later.

“Okay so… what just happened tonight… what kind of ghost energy is that?”

Mister quirked an eyebrow at her, as if impressed by how dumb the question was. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, for I am very dumb and require your great teaching,” Eddie said, deadpan.

Mister smirked. “Succubus.”

His smirk turned a bit lecherous and Eddie was eager to change the subject. “So how did you become a poltergeist?”

“Annoy enough people and you get better at throwing objects around. Which makes it easier to cause more annoyance, and so on. Everybody hates coming down to this basement, nothing’s ever where they remember putting it. It’s delightful.”

Eddie did not think that sounded delightful at all, but she could understand the mechanism. 

“And vampires?”

“Usually start when the ghost is exposed to human blood by some other mechanism, like a nearby murder. If they develop a taste for it, they might try and cause a knife accident for another taste. Blood ghosts love the avocado trend, let me tell you. Eventually, if they get enough blood, they grow fangs and then eventually develop a fully physical form.”

Mister continued his lecture, happy to hear the sound of his own voice. Overall, Eddie found the mechanics pretty intuitive. A ghost defending a certain tree for long enough might become a nymph. Saving drowning folks might make them a river spirit. Leading hikers into danger might make them a will’o’the wisp.

And, as Eddie had just learned herself, cum made a succubus.

As Mister tried to circle back around to that with his weird smirk again, Eddie thanked him for his help and whizzed back up from the basement. She returned to her attic, floating back and forth as she pondered.

Was becoming a succubus what she wanted? Did she even really have a choice? Eddie tried to remember her first life, as if that might have some clue, but it was little more to her now than a date she counted from to see how long she’d been a ghost.

She considered the other types of ghosts. Becoming a nymph or a sprite sounded nice, but she didn’t really want to leave her house and go searching for trees or streams. That seemed dangerous, too likely to result in her running out of energy and fading out of existence. 

Becoming a vampire seemed too violent, becoming a poltergeist too mean.

It was hard to think about what she wanted to become, but it was easier to think about what she wanted to do.

She didn’t want to take anybody’s blood, or make anybody frightened or annoyed, or live out in the wilderness. What she actually wanted, she realized as soon as she let herself ask the question, was to drink all the cum in the world.

The thought made her vibrate with eager energy.

And so Eddie decided. She would become a succubus.

Over the next week, as Eddie became bolder and participated in more and more of the house’s orgasms, she became more powerful. And as she became more powerful, it became harder and harder to hide herself.

One girl caught a glimpse over her shoulder. Another caught Eddie over her and decided she must be dreaming. A boyfriend was sure he heard another voice in the room. Chelsea heard moaning in the attic when she was sure nobody else was home.

Eddie tried to behave but she simply couldn’t help herself. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be hungry, but she was sure this was it. The need gnawed at her, hollowing her out from the inside until it drove her to whisk through the house, whispering and touching and trying to goad someone into masturbating.

She could smell arousal she could not help but move towards any sound of pleasure.

Chelsea and Amber, a brunette, discussed the situation over a breakfast of toaster pastries one morning.

“You really think it’s haunted?” Amber said.

“No, of course not,” Chelsea said. “But I do think we need to check out the attic. Somebody’s probably sneaking in, and we don’t have a lock on the attic door. If it’s one of the girls, I honestly don’t give a shit, go fuck in the attic if you think it’s hot, right? But like, if it’s randos? That’s not gonna fly.”

“And the reason you haven’t already checked it out is…” Amber grinned mischievously.

“Because it might not be safe—” Chelsea started.

“Because you think it’s haunted,” Amber spoke over her.

Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’ll come with you though,” Amber said. “I’d honestly much rather it be haunted than have somebody sneaking in, that’s creepy as fuck.”

“Right? If anything looks out of place, we’ll just call in to get a lock on it or something.”

What they found in the attic was quite a few things out-of-place, but not in the way they expected.

Chelsea edged forward carefully with her flashlight, cautiously poking some fresh ectoplasm with the tip of her sneaker. “What the fuck is this stuff?”

Amber wrinkled her nose, still standing on the ladder, only half of her body in the attic. “Some kind of slime mold? Gross.”

“I guess if anyone were breaking in, we’d see footprints in this stuff… but ew.”

Amber frowned. “So wouldn’t we also see if someone had been coming up here to fuck?”

Chelsea’s brow furrowed. “Yeah…” She stepped carefully around the ectoplasm, surveying the border of the attic. There were no windows, no ways in or out, no loose boards.

Eddie watched them from a shadow, quickly zipping out of the way of Chelsea’s flashlight beam. 

Previously, Eddie couldn’t have been visible at all without quite a bit of focus. Now, it was the opposite — she was only fully invisible when she was trying to be. And it was getting more and more difficult.

As Amber and Chelsea assured themselves that nobody could get in or out of the attic, they did not seem to become more comfortable.

Amber chuckled wryly. “Y’know, if I believed in ghosts… I’d say this stuff looks like ectoplasm…”

Chelsea snorted. “And if I believed in ghosts, I’d say one was creaming itself up here on the reg.”

They caught each others’ eyes and didn’t laugh.

“But I’m sure it’s just slime mold,” Amber said.

“And I’m sure it’s just a trick of the wind or the vents or something,” Chelsea said.

And then, despite the heat, both girls shivered and they left the attic as quickly as possible, slamming the trapdoor shut behind them.

Eddie flickered back into visibility in the corner. That had been close. Very close.

The mold guy came and said it wasn’t mold, but he didn’t know what it was, so he recommended they run a fan to air out the attic and to keep an eye on it.

Chelsea and Amber did so, hauling up one of the cheap oscillating fans that they’d bought for every room after being unable to figure out why it was so hot all the time.

Eddie had no idea what was going to happen, but she was very curious. She hadn’t made ectoplasm before the sorority had moved in, and she suspected it was somehow part of her gradual transformation into a succubus. She had no interest in asking Mister about this part, so all she could do was watch and find out.

The ectoplasm did dry fairly quickly, so where it wasn’t fresh, it just appeared as part of the dust that was otherwise expected in an old house like this one.

As Amber plugged in the fan, the cord just barely stretching from an outlet in the hallway to the edge of the attic floor, that dust billowed up in a massive cloud.

“Gross!” Chelsea spat, covering her face with her shirt and scurrying down the ladder.

Amber winced and dashed over to the window in the hallway, opening it. She pulled her shirt over her face too as the dust flowed down into the hallway.

The two girls grimaced and jogged down the stairs, only uncovering their faces once they were in the kitchen.

“Bleck,” Amber said. “Next time, we’re making maintenance do that part.”

“No kidding, I got a whole face full!” Chelsea frowned. “The grossest part is, it tasted sweet, like when you’re making a protein shake and you inhale some of that erythritol stuff? Ugh, it probably is some kind of weird mold.”

“If you get sick, my dad will help sue,” Amber said. 

“Appreciate it.”

“Let’s wait outside,” Amber said. “Later, we can get one of the freshmen to vacuum and put it all back together.”

“Seems fair enough to me,” Chelsea said.

But, as she and Amber reached the back door of the house, Chelsea hesitated.

Amber had no idea why, but Eddie did. Chelsea was, very abruptly, feeling incredibly aroused.

“I’ll meet you in a sec,” Chelsea said, “Gotta use the ladies room.”

“Sure.” Amber stepped outside. 

Chelsea ducked into the bathroom and before the door was even latched, her hand was down her pants. 

She propped her other hand against the door frame and leaned heavily against it, barely managing to stay standing.

Her arousal was building quickly. Eddie’s ectoplasm had this kind of effect? Even just the dust of it?

Eddie could not possibly stay invisible with this much energy vibrating through her, but Chelsea’s eyes were squeezed shut so it was as safe as it would ever be.

Chelsea fought to contain a scream of ecstasy as Eddie slipped her fingers inside. Chelsea squirted as she climaxed, once, twice, a third time.

Eddie soaked it all in, dizzy with power, certain that she was clearly visible but having a hard time forcing herself to care about it.

As Chelsea’s hand finally slowed and she sighed into the door frame, Eddie dropped into the basement with not a moment to spare before Chelsea’s eyes flicked open.

Even on the other side of the floor, Eddie was now in a similar predicament to the one she had caused Chelsea to be in.

The basement had been turned into a proper living space in the renovation, and the sorority had added a ring of couches, tables for pool and ping-pong, and a kegerator.

The room was fully open except for a row of closets on the back wall that were stuffed with holiday decorations and party supplies, and there was no bathroom.

Eddie was wary to float back upstairs, visible as she was, but she was also wary to release herself here, where the ectoplasm would be obvious.

And her capacity for problem solving was greatly limited by the intoxicating arousal.

The best that she could do was slither under one of the couches, just in the nick of time. She quivered in the shadows, unable to keep from moaning, a puddle of ectoplasm expanding underneath her.

Then there was the flick of the light switch and the basement was bathed in light.

Footsteps down the stairs. Amber’s feet, hesitating on the last step. “Jess, is that you?”

Amber leaned back and forth, trying to survey the whole room without stepping onto the floor. “I promise I won’t judge you for rubbing one out, we’ve all been there…”

Eddie remained silent.

Amber bounced on the balls of her feet. “Fuck, maybe this place is haunted…” She jumped up the stairs two at a time.

Continued in Part III


The Horny Sorority Ghost (Part I)

Content Warning: This story is playful and light. However, I wanted to provide a heads-up that our horny sorority ghost does not ask permission before instigating her sexual mischief or peeping on the house’s residents.

All characters are depicted as 18 and older and all human/human interactions are enthusiastically consensual.

Edith had been haunting the same Tudor-style mansion for the past 150 years. Though, she had been going by ‘Eddie’ lately, after the new ghost across the street had told her that ‘Edith’ was an old lady name.

Edith had asked, “How can it be an old lady name if I’m twenty?”

“How long have you been twenty?”

Edith had frowned. 

The other ghost just smirked. “I’ll call you Eddie instead. Chicks with guy nicknames are hot.”

Eddie didn’t like them, but she did like the new name. She even just liked that it was something different, something new. 

The house had been abandoned for the past fifty years, even as a lively urban center had sprung up around it. Prospective buyers complained on the front stoop. The owner was a hold-out, paying the property taxes with family money while they waited for the market to boom.

It seemed like it finally had, and before the real estate agent could even put the sign in the front, the house was sold.

Eddie had watched with immense curiosity as the contractors had come to renovate her house. It got new floors, replacement windows, shiny appliances and a fresh coat of paint.

Eddie worried a bit that she might be somehow exorcised by the changes. Only when the new residents came through the front door would she believe that it wasn’t too good to be true.

Or so she thought. Because when the gaggle of sorority girls rolled up to the house with their crop tops and leopard print suitcases, Eddie couldn’t believe it at all. It was WAY too good to be true.

It was a myth that ghosts were always cold. They could be warm, too. And Eddie was feeling very, very hot.

A blond girl stepped further in, Eddie just managing to dart out of her way. She was completely invisible, but humans still noticed when they passed through a ghost.

“It’s like a sauna in here!” the blond complained. “Come help me get the windows open!”

As the sorority girls unpacked, the heat got to them and they were soon sweating. And then that got to Eddie, and the house grew hotter. And then the girls stripped off their crop tops and their jean shorts and unpacked in bras and underwear. Eddie was loathe to leave, but she whisked back up to the attic lest she give any of them heat stroke. 

She must be dreaming. Except ghosts didn’t dream. So either she was finally becoming one of those crazy ghosts, or it was really happening.

It was really happening.

And then it all got so much better as the girls settled in. There were naked in the shower and then in sports bras and panties, they were giggling with each other and then heading to bed, they were watching porn and masturbating and complaining that the whole house was so very, very hot.

“Maybe it means the heating bill won’t be so bad in the winter,” the blond, whose name was Chelsea, had offered at breakfast.

Eddie felt a bit bad, but she couldn’t help but watch. And she meant that. She had tried to not to! But in 150 years she’d forgotten whatever manners she’d ever had, and it was all so new and delightful, and if they didn’t know, it couldn’t hurt them, right?

But she still wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She could not possibly stay this hot and bothered forever. Or even for one more day, really. 

The girls heard moaning from the attic as Eddie relearned how to masturbate. As a ghost, the trick seemed to be just fantasizing until she felt overwhelmingly aroused, and then her whole manifestation quivered with energy and pleasure, and then she finally felt a deep and profound release, and when she was finished she found not a small amount of ectoplasm around her.

The next morning, the girls rejoiced that the house had finally cooled off. They talked about the moaning in little clusters, and Eddie was relieved to find that they each blamed a girl in a different cluster, leaving nobody suspecting an otherworldly presence. 

A month later, the first boy entered the sorority house. He climbed up the outer trellis to Chelsea’s room, more to show off that he could than for any real fear of judgement from the rest of the sorority.

Eddie smelled him before he was even inside and drifted into the upper corner of Chelsea’s bedroom to watch.

He was broad and muscular and soon dripping with sweat.

He grunted as he stripped. “You should get a window AC.”

“But then you couldn’t climb in through my window.”

“Oh. Good point.”

Chelsea stripped off her clothes and stood before him, glimmering with sweat, and he had no more complaints.

He fondled her breasts and then sucked on her nipples. She stroked his shaft and then kissed him hard.

It was not long before he was fucking her doggy style, moaning softly with each thrust.

Chelsea gasped with pleasure, her fingers circling over her clit. “Y-yes, that’s my spot!”

His grunting deepened.

“Wait! You have a condom, right?”

Eddie saw the look of confusion on his face and the unopened condom on the nightstand.

“Y-yeah,” he grunted, “of course.”

If he’d been lying instead of dumb, Chelsea probably would have kicked him out. But as it were, she returned to her clit. It didn’t seem like he was going to last long enough for her to come, and Eddie didn’t appreciate that either.

Eddie had to do something. And much to her surprise, her body, incorporeal as it was, knew exactly what to do.

She drifted into the bed, her head passing through Chelsea’s body as she aligned her mouth over the boy’s shaft.

How it felt to have a ghost pass through you varied, and based on Chelsea’s gasp and shamelessly loud moan, the feeling was pleasant for her.

“I d-don’t know what you’re doing,” Chelsea said, “but whatever it is, don’t stop! I’m c-coming!”

Chelsea’s orgasm and the tingle of a ghostly presence around his shaft sent the boy over the edge. With a grunt, he thrust into Chelsea one more time and then came.

His cum puddled on Eddie’s tongue, contained in her ghostly mouth. 

As the boy withdrew, Eddie followed. Chelsea shivered with pleasure as Eddie made sure all of the cum stayed on her tongue.

Once she was floating in the air between them, Eddie swallowed.

A surge of arousal and power quivered through her and if it had not surprised her so much, she herself would have come right there, squirting ectoplasm everywhere.

And then Eddie saw that the boy saw her. Eddie looked down — the surge of energy had left her ever so slightly visible. She quickly vanished again.

He blinked and shook his head.

“That was incredible,” Chelsea said, rolling over. “What did you…” And then she saw his naked dick. His empty hands. “Where’s the condom?”

“Oh! Uhhh…” he looked dumbly at himself, but glanced back to where he’d seen Eddie.

Chelsea’s expression turned to anger as she saw the unopened condom on the night stand and shook it at him. “Rick, seriously? You asshole!”

“Shit, I really thought I’d put it on!”

Chelsea put her head in her hand and shook her head. “Oh my god, you are such an idiot. Lucky for you I’m on the pill or else you would not be leaving here with your dick intact.”

“C’mon, babe, it’s not that big of a deal…”

Chelsea frowned, stood, and crossed her arms. Even naked as she was, the posture was intimidating and her voice cold as ice. “Get the fuck out of my room, you prick.”

“So uh, Thursday…”

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude. We are never hooking up again.” 

Now he was starting to get angry. “W-well if you think I wanna hook up with you after you’ve been such a bitch…”

Eddie decided to have a little fun. She drifted around behind Chelsea, matched her posture, and then allowed herself to become visible again for just a moment.

His eyes went wide. 

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. 

“T-this place is fucking haunted!”

Chelsea snorted. “Are you high?”

“I’m gonna tell everyone this place is fucking haunted!”

“Go ahead, free advertising for our Halloween party.”

He scrambled down the trellis, fell the last five feet, then scurried off into the night. 

Chelsea rolled her eyes and flopped back into her bed. She pulled out her phone and Eddie drifted over her shoulder to peek. Eddie still marveled at the magical little tablets. She remembered her first life in only bits and pieces, but she had a feeling that the printing press had just barely been new when she was alive. 

Chelsea typed, Figures that when the guy’s a piece of shit, the sex is amazing…

The reply from Amber bubbled up, Sry babe, u deserve better. What happened?

He ‘forgot’ the condom



did u kick his ass?

haha yeah, he’s not coming back

rip ur sexy times

ikr, though telling him off kinda turned me on, ngl…

The reply was just the symbol, 😈

Chelsea smiled wryly and flopped back into her pillows, letting her phone fall to the side. 

Chelsea tentatively reached a hand down to her vulva. She sighed at the pleasure, relaxed, and started to rub circles around her clit.

Eddie was transfixed and feeling uncharacteristically bold. She reached her hand out and placed it over — or more accurately, within — Chelsea’s.

Chelsea moaned. “Ohhhh fuck…”

Something deeply instinctive overcame Eddie and she curled her fingers around and pressed them inside of Chelsea. 

It was not long before Chelsea was gasping with ecstasy and Eddie was buzzing with energy.

Sweat beaded and ran down between Chelsea’s breasts, down her waist, down her thighs. Eddie felt so very, very warm.

And then, somehow, it escalated even further. Chelsea gasped and a clearish, viscous fluid squirted out of her and landed on Eddie’s palm — landed, and did not fall through. Eddie had no idea what was happening except that she wanted more of that.

Two, three more times, Chelsea moaned and wriggled and squirted. And then her head tipped back with abject pleasure and she climaxed, filling Eddie’s hand with her fluids.

Eddie’s whole form was quivering with the most intense energy she’d ever felt. The fluid soaked into her skin and filled her with a surge of power.

Chelsea relaxed back, eyes closed.

Eddie realized that she was no longer invisible, and quickly floated up through the ceiling and into the attic.

It only took the shortest moment of remembering Chelsea’s intense climax to send the waves of intense pleasure and release quivering through Eddie’s form. And even after, she felt more alive than she ever had since she died. She could not just settle in for the night. She needed to understand exactly what had happened to her. 

Continued in Part II